Sagitta: Star Guardians, Book 3

by Ruby Lionsdrake

  “I’m glad,” he said, his voice husky as he gazed upon her. “Do you want to go to my cabin?”

  “Worried about sanitizing your table?”

  “You don’t look that comfortable.”

  “No?” Even if going to his cabin wouldn’t have meant walking past the officers on the bridge, she wouldn’t have wanted to leave, not when he was looking at her that way, his eyes hungry with need, and her own body primed and ready for more. Ready for him. She lifted her hand as she watched his face, cupping her own breast and fondling it. “It’s probably because you’re entirely too far away from me.”

  He watched her touching herself, as he’d watched her the other day in the office, and she imagined his hard cock straining to do some touching of its own.

  “I can remedy that,” he whispered.

  “Come to me, Captain.”

  • • • • •

  Sage peeled off his shirt and tossed it onto the table with the rest of their clothes. He was tempted to yank off his trousers and boots as quickly as possible to fling himself atop Tala—she’d ordered him to come to her, and he hated to make a woman wait—but he liked the way she was watching his every move and touching herself as she did.

  He made a show of undressing, flexing his muscles and turning just so in order to give her an appealing view. After removing his tank top, he lifted a boot to the table, undoing the fasteners slowly before moving on to the other boot. His cock strained against his trousers, the bulge obvious with one foot propped against the table.

  She licked her lips, rubbing her breast, her nipple growing hard again as she watched. Excited by her brazen interest, Sage once again had to stifle the urge to tear off everything and throw himself at her. Her interest was so compelling, as was she with her rich brown skin gleaming over her luscious curves. Oh, how she’d wiggled and writhed for him, gripping his hair as she’d panted and gasped.

  It amazed him anew that she didn’t care anything about his reputation, about how many medals he’d won, or that he commanded an elite Star Guardian ship. She wanted to be with him solely based on the man she’d come to know in the last few weeks, even if he was an asshole. Amazing.

  He unfastened his belt and pulled his trousers off his hips, finally freeing his aching cock. It sprang upright, standing at attention for her.

  He smirked, glad to see nothing had been affected by her womanizing potion.

  “And here I thought you were small compared to the rest of your men,” she said, matching his smirk.

  “I’m actually above average for a Dethocolean.” It wasn’t his fault humans from some planets were freakishly oversized.

  “So I see.”

  He’d thought himself far too old to care about his penis size, but it seemed to throb and expand under her approving perusal. Maybe some things never changed.

  Tala licked her full lips again, her pink tongue sliding along them as her gaze took in his cock. Her hand drifted from her breast to her pussy, and she rubbed herself, all of her on display for him, all of her ready for him. God, if he got any harder, he would break the table if he swung around too quickly.

  Fully naked, he leaned forward, planting his hands on either side of her. “Do you want me on the table instead of you?”

  He couldn’t imagine it would feel good, having him pound into her with hard wood at her back.

  “I just want you, Sage,” she said, her dark eyes intense with desire. “I don’t care how.”

  She scooted herself to the edge of the table, her knees coming up. He looked down at her lush pink flesh, and thoughts of gentlemanly behavior were trampled by his lust and forgotten. He gripped one of her legs, propping it over his shoulder as he leaned down to kiss her. And more.

  She gripped his head with both hands, and he didn’t think anyone had ever kissed him back so passionately, so demandingly. Sensing her desire and her readiness, he didn’t hold back. He kissed her hard and gripped the smooth skin of her leg, easing her open. She spread eagerly, arching off the table toward him.

  He pressed his cock against her, parting her lower lips, and finding her tight, hot opening. She groaned an approval into his mouth, and he couldn’t hold back. He thrust into her, and she came up enough to grip his shoulders, her kiss turning into a hard nip at his lip. Her nails dug into his skin, and it felt so good, so hot. He loved that his controlled, logical doctor had a wild side.

  He gripped her ass with both hands and rocked into her as she clung to him. He closed his eyes, sheer bliss coming over him as he pounded toward his release, as she so eagerly matched his every movement. He’d wanted this since he first saw her, even though he’d known he shouldn’t. But somehow, he’d sensed they were a match before they’d even spoken.

  Feeling her urgency as he neared his crest, he slid one hand down to her clit again, thumbing her as he dove in and out, rubbing her to bring her to the edge at the same time as he. And it worked. She cried his name, despite her earlier concerns about people on the bridge just outside, and he grinned with self-satisfaction. And he grinned because he knew she was his, at least for now. It was amazing. So was she.

  With one final thrust, he poured himself into her, throwing his head back at how damn good that felt. He roared like a svenkar. Let the bridge crew make of that what they would.

  Tala lowered her leg from his shoulder. He let her, but he found himself unwilling to let her go far. He scooted both of them onto the table, having a small lament that they hadn’t gone to find a bed.

  “Mm,” she murmured, and locked her legs around him.

  Sage pushed himself up to his elbows, not wanting to crush her with his weight, then kissed her. This was nice, for the moment, but he wanted to take her to his cabin for further rounds. And he vowed that there would be further rounds. Many of them.

  He just wished he’d had time to get her violin made and that it would be sitting in his cabin when they arrived. He didn’t know what the instrument sounded like, but he would love to see her play. And he would love to give her the ability to do so again, here in this alien place. Well, he supposed there would be time for all that. The ship wasn’t going anywhere.

  “I’d like to stay,” Tala said, reaching up to stroke his hair, not seeming to mind that it was sweaty after all the vigorous activity.

  “In my ready room? There’s not even a pillow. Or a blanket.”

  “On your ship.”

  He froze, looking down at her, trying to read her eyes. Had she meant…

  “As my doctor?” he whispered.

  “If we can make it work somehow. And if I have the power to relieve you of command whenever you’re being a dumbass.”

  “I’d never be on the bridge if we allowed that.”

  “You spend too much time on the bridge as it is. You should be down in sickbay more often, apologizing to me.”

  He gave her a wolfish grin. “I can do both. I don’t sleep that much.”

  “Your stamina is remarkable.”

  That, and the fact that she didn’t add “for a man your age,” prompted him to want to kiss her again, and he did. It was some time before he eased off her and off the table. Not wanting to truly be apart, he pulled her into his arms right away. They could dress soon, but he selfishly wanted to revel in her naked splendor for a few minutes more.

  “It’s quite a pretty planet,” Tala remarked as they stood, arms wrapped around each other, and looking out the porthole. “I was admiring it on my way in.”

  “It’s full of toxic gases and has a surface temperature that would freeze us in seconds.”

  “Pretty from a distance, you say?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Are there any planets that are habitable?”

  “I’ll have to check with Korta, but he didn’t mention it. This may not be the best place to plan a retirement home.”

  “Then I’m glad you and your clever Star Guardians will find a way out of here.”

  He kissed the side of her face instead of contradicting her.
It seemed far easier, and far more likely to lead to more rounds of sex in his cabin that night.

  “We’ll see what we can do,” he murmured.

  She shifted toward him, her breasts pressing against his chest, and kissed him. Maybe they wouldn’t make it to his cabin, after all.

  Epilogue

  Sage strolled hand in hand with Tala through the corridor toward his cabin. They had both dressed, checking each other to make sure nothing was on backward or showed signs of vigorous tabletop activities, and walked past the bridge officers without a word. Korta, who had been muttering to himself about the excitement of exploring a previously unexplored system, hadn’t noticed their passing. Ensign Byqvist, the night-shift helmsman who’d taken Zakota’s spot, had been very attentively studying his console, though Sage had little doubt rumors of his ready-room activities would make the ship’s gossip circuit.

  Normally, he wouldn’t openly hold hands with Tala—or anyone else—as he walked the public corridors, but the lights were dimmed, and the ship was quiet. He assumed most people had gone to bed or were contemplating their uncertain future—while blaming Sage for getting everyone into this mess. And could he truly object, if they were? They would be correct.

  “I haven’t been in your quarters before,” Tala said as they turned down the stub of a corridor that held the cabins for senior officers.

  “I hope you’ll find them comfortable, so you’ll want to come often.”

  “Are there things in there that would be appealing to a woman?”

  “Uhm.” What would that be? Flowers? A makeup vanity? A bed with a ridiculous number of frilly pillows on the spread? “There are star maps on the walls. An ancient strategy board game on a table. As for the rest of the decor, the, uh, scalps were a gift, so I felt compelled to keep them.”

  “Scalps?”

  “Of Zi’i. Some of the elite forces soldiers on the ship I commanded the last year of the war thought it would be a good idea to scalp their enemies as they boarded the enemy ships, to prove how many they’d killed. Naturally, they dried some of them and gave them to me when I stepped down as captain. So I would remember them. They were a quirky lot.”

  “Is quirky another word for psychopathic?”

  “Not really. By the end of the war, we’d suffered a lot of atrocities from the Zi’i. I couldn’t blame the men if they found it cathartic to kill them.”

  “I’m glad we escaped them, even if it was to come to an unknown system. This is at least peaceful.”

  He kept himself from saying, “So far,” since he didn’t want to destroy her mood. There was probably something wrong with him for dwelling on gloomy thoughts when he was walking beside a smart, beautiful, and wonderful woman who thought he was wonderful too. Or at least appealingly humble.

  “Here it is.” The door at the end of the corridor slid open as they walked up to it. “I’ll go in first to tidy up.” He held up a hand and strode into the dim room.

  “I hope ‘tidy up’ is code for ‘hide the scalps.’” Tala waited in the corridor, demonstrating her complete willingness to stay there until he’d hidden them.

  “You are an intuitive as well as intelligent woman, Dr. Tala.”

  “Flattery will get you… an eager and willing bed partner.”

  “Excellent.” Sage, hurrying toward the furry Zi’i scalps, which hung from a thong in a corner, almost missed the unexpected object leaning against his desk. He stared at the simple wooden device, which had strings stretching across a long neck and over a hole on the bottom half, perplexed until Tala spoke from the doorway.

  “Is that a violin?” She sounded stunned and delighted all at once.

  Hierax. When had he found time to research the instrument and produce it? Granted, the printer in engineering could create almost anything, spare parts included, but how had he found out what one should look like? Information off one of the women’s Gaian comm devices?

  Promptly deciding he was no longer irked at his engineer for locking him out of engineering, Sage picked up the violin to take to Tala. But she rushed in to meet him before he’d gone a step. Her eyes were wide as she took it gently in her hands.

  “How did you… I mean, they weren’t invented yet when your people were taken from Earth. You couldn’t have them out here. Could you?”

  “I asked Hierax to find out what violins were and then figure out a way to make you one,” Sage said.

  “That’s… when did you have time? I can’t believe you—thank you!” Tala didn’t let go of the instrument as she threw her arms around him for a hug, and it clunked him in the back.

  He decided he didn’t mind. He hugged her back, pleased that she was so delighted.

  “I like this appreciation,” he said, “but I really didn’t do anything. Hierax did all the work.”

  “But you thought to ask him to. That counts.” She lowered her arms and smiled into his eyes. “For a lot.”

  “Oh? Will that still be true if it doesn’t produce music and ends up being an elegant doorstop? On my world, musical instruments are usually made by artisans, not fabricated in a workshop, so I can’t make any promises on the quality of it. Though Hierax does usually over deliver rather than under deliver.”

  “It still counts, yes. But let’s find out about the rest.”

  Tala peered behind him and plucked up a second object that Sage had assumed was some kind of remnant from the creation process. She brought the instrument to her chin, laid the long, narrow object across the strings, and ran it experimentally over them. A variety of notes came off the strings.

  Sage watched her face. The notes sounded promising to him, but his musical talents ended at singing off-key marching cadences to troops on the move.

  “It’s very nice,” Tala said, smiling at him without lowering the violin. “What shall I play for you? I confess, I’m rusty, but I’m sure I can still play a lot of songs from memory.”

  “I—” Sage’s logostec beeped.

  He frowned down, tempted to ignore the comm, but it was Orion. Tala had promised him his brother was doing well, but it was always possible there had been complications. He held up a finger for her and answered.

  “Yes?” he asked. “Are your intestines still on the right side of your skin?”

  Tala’s eyebrow quirked at this greeting.

  “They are,” Orion said. “But I have a problem. There’s this great shindig going on in the mess hall, and Juanita isn’t allowing me to eat or drink. Can you have the doc tell her that everything is working fine, and that a couple of week-old donuts aren’t going to hurt anything? The moist gooey ones are still looking quite nice.”

  Sage wrinkled his nose at the idea of donuts, week-old or otherwise. “What makes you think I know where she is?”

  “Well, she’s not in sickbay and she’s not in here, and your Ensign Byqvist reported seeing her not that long ago. With you. Coming out of a very long and extremely private meeting.” Orion cleared his throat. “With sound effects.”

  “That gossip didn’t take long to circulate,” Sage murmured to Tala, who looked faintly horrified, but also lifted a dismissive shoulder.

  Sage decided Byqvist was going to be assigned some extra duties, perhaps involving listening to Korta as he waxed scientific about exploring this new system.

  Tala leaned close to Sage and spoke toward his logostec. “I would have to examine you before okaying you to eat. I believe we agreed you would fast for three days while only consuming water. To give everything time to finish healing.”

  “I agreed to that? Was I drugged at the time?”

  “Yes.”

  “That makes the contract null and void, right, Sage? Tell her.”

  “A stale donut doesn’t sound worth risking your health for.”

  “It totally is,” another voice sounded on the comm. Angela? “And they’re not stale. They got better with age. Extra moist. Like carrot cake!”

  “I should have known better than to ask you,” Orion grumbled, and Sage
had no doubt that you was directed at him. “Despite the fact that you’re likely to do nothing but frown disapprovingly, you are officially invited to the shindig. Both of you.”

  “Shindig?” Sage rubbed the back of his head. He’d assumed most of the crew was asleep. Or contemplating their uncomfortable new situation. Had any of them considered yet that the ship had less than a month’s supply of food and water aboard? Donuts aside?

  “We escaped the Zi’i and survived the nebula. And my intestines are where they belong again. Of course there’s a shindig.”

  Sage had been more interested in having a private shindig with Tala—even if that hadn’t been the case, he generally avoided fraternizing with the crew—but it would be good to see Orion on his feet. Watching him on that operating table had reminded him that the future was always uncertain, especially in this line of work, and he should take any opportunities he found to mend fences with family. Besides, someone had to keep the boy from inflicting donuts on his newly repaired gut.

  “Perhaps we could come down for a while,” Sage said. “If Dr. Tala doesn’t object.”

  He arched his eyebrows to see if she did.

  “Why would she object?” Orion asked. “Zakota dug out some weird black alcohol from his home world. I think it’s made from bantok bones. It’s disgusting and extremely potent. Naturally, everyone is having a good time right now.”

  “Yes,” Sage murmured. “Who wouldn’t want bone alcohol?”

  “Exactly. Oh, another dance just started up. Zakota is trying to get Ku involved. This should be interesting. We’ll see you soon, Sage.”

  The channel closed, and Sage eyed his logostec. “He seemed perky.”

  “Surviving certain death will do that to a person,” Tala said.

  “Do you want to go?” Sage nodded toward the door. “If not, we can lounge around here while you play me beautiful music.”

  “Hm.” She eyed his quarters, which he thought were comfortable enough, but her gaze lingered on the scalps. Oops, he’d been distracted and hadn’t found a place to stick those. “I’d consider playing for you, but perhaps your engineer would also enjoy hearing his instrument in use?”