The Siren's Call (Fantasy, Science Fiction, Romance) (FORCED TO SERVE)

by McDonald, Donna

  He stroked inside her only a few times before the largest vibration of all hit. She screamed and arched her body under his. It took all his remaining strength to stay inside her as her climax shook his physical form and raised them both from the bed. Her strength thrilled him and had him running possessive hands over what he had just made his in a very basic way.

  Then when Gwen’s body relaxed to the bed once more, to his greater surprise she buried her face in his neck and wept as if he had hurt her badly. Which is what he would have thought was the problem had it not been for the throbbing relief he felt in her cord and his as he very carefully kept their bodies connected and their mating cords matched.

  “I love you,” she said, sniffling and trying not to cry. “I’ve always loved you. I know you don’t truly know me anymore, but at least you trust me. Now I’m more thankful than I ever imagined I would be that you sent me that damn mating cord. I take back all the names I called you over those four days.”

  “You called me names?” he asked, hoping to distract her enough that she would cease her uncontrolled weeping. It disturbed him greatly. Warriors were not supposed to weep. Not even mated ones.

  “Yes. I wept. I cried. I called you lots of vile names,” Gwen said, trying for a laugh as she sniffed.

  “Tell me one,” he ordered, bracing himself.

  “Controlling Siren bastard,” Gwen said without hesitating.

  Keeping them connected, he rolled them to their sides to look into her face more clearly. He actually liked the sound of that name on her tongue but was afraid to say so.

  “Indeed—that is a vile name,” he said instead, sensing Gwen would prefer he was offended.

  “I also frequently referred to you as a huge pile of Klageldon dung,” she said, smiling.

  “What is that? It sounds like some type of animal? Why do you suppose I can remember basic information but not specifics?” he asked.

  “Aren’t you offended to be called dung?” she asked, admiring the calm yet condescending gaze he returned to her. Zade was in there—definitely, unquestionably in there. “It’s really bad to be called that. Tomorrow I’ll show you how to look it up on your desk unit. You’ll be truly mad at me then.”

  “Doubtful. Nothing you could call me would compare to ‘fool.’ Any male refusing to share your bed for two years had a serious problem with good judgment,” he said softly.

  Gwen sighed and closed her eyes. “It wasn’t that simple. And no matter how nice it is to get a complete do-over with you, I’m still going to help you get your memories back. That doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy your humility and new open-mindedness about me in the meantime. Plus, we are definitely going to work on your endurance during bonding.”

  “Why? Did I displease you in some manner?” he asked, shocked at her lie—because that’s what it was. He was sure of it. Was brevity a problem for her species?

  The only answer he got from her to his serious questions was a rippling, loud laugh that he was compelled to cut off with his mouth.

  Chapter 14

  The next morning Gwen had to pry herself loose from the male who had used her for a pillow during the part of the sleep cycle where they actually slept. He had woken her every few hours for bonding. She was almost tempted to beg a stimulant from Medical.

  The last time he’d woken her, Zade had demanded she turn the lights off completely so they wouldn’t forget again. Then he’d silenced her laughing complaints by massaging both the inside and the outside of her at the same time, completely ending her concerns about his endurance problems. After he’d finally got tired again, she’d slept a drugged-like sleep until moments ago.

  Bonding with Zade had been both worse and better than she’d even imagined after all this time. Gwen decided it was a good thing she’d avoided intercourse with Sirens if they were all like him. Zade had basically wiped away her memories of how good other men had been the first time he’d slid slowly inside her and sent that initial series of subsequent climaxes rippling through her at light speed. Even without remembering his vow, he had more than fulfilled his promise to be her best experience. Her body still vibrated with pleasure this morning, and her mating cord throbbed with enough energy for her to be constantly aware of their energy connection.

  Leaving him sleeping while she found her way to the bridge was not going to be easy this morning. She wanted to stay, badly wanted to stay. In fact, leaving Zade at all from now on was going to require all her self-discipline if their intimacy was going to be like this all the time. She was extremely grateful this morning for her Thelorian side that pulled on her to remember her duty.

  Gwen scooted to the edge of the bed where she could better study the male who filled it totally with his massive body. His hair was starting to grow out again now that it wasn’t being routinely cut. The short style all the slaves wore had fortuitously been a style she favored naturally, which had helped her disguise, but short hair did not do Zade’s Siren appearance justice. Having hair to his shoulders suited Zade better. The longer hairstyle went with those damn flowing tunics and loose casual pants he preferred.

  After all she had learned about his body last night, now she understood why he always wore such loose clothing. Zade was packing around a lot more than was probably comfortable stowed away in the restraints of a standard officer’s uniform on a regular basis. His uniforms were probably custom-made.

  Pushing slowly to her feet, Gwen was surprised that intimate parts of her were no worse for last night’s activities. Instead, she winced at the abrasion of the fabric rug against the soles of her feet, which still hurt badly from running over dirt and stones without protection. Padding softly to her clothing chest, she rifled through it to find some clean socks, happy when she pulled two clean ones out, even though they didn’t match. She hadn’t had enough time to attend to sanitizing her soiled clothing. Tomorrow it might come down to taking advantage of the commander’s right to ask the bursar to do it for her.

  She winced her way from the clothes chest to the desk chair and sat, glad to take the pressure off her damaged feet.

  “Put some more healing salve on before you dress. The ointment is right there on the desk beside you. I meant to do it for you last night but kept getting distracted,” Dorian said, sighing as he looked at her.

  His female was delightfully responsive. Each time he saw her, he wanted more of her. After all the many privileges she granted him during the night, he would like nothing more this morning than to increase the look of contentment on her face.

  “Good morning,” Gwen said softly, picking up the ointment and applying it gently. “I was trying not to wake you. More rest would be good for you.”

  “Perhaps—but I would like to go with you to find food. I ate with Sarinnea yesterday, but my body is reminding me that was some time ago,” he said with a smile.

  Gwen nodded. “Sure—since you’re awake that makes sense. I have to go to work afterwards. Well actually, I don’t know what my duty is today, but I imagine Synar is going to want to talk about the next mission. He will have received the orders by now.”

  “This ship must return to the planet the Ambassador mentioned that disturbed you,” Dorian supplied.

  “Yes—that’s right,” Gwen agreed, slipping on one sock before moving her attention to the other side. “I think your memory is much better than you think.”

  “What do…” he stopped, then scooted up in the bed. “What did I used to do during the day while you went to the bridge?”

  Gwen was slipping on the other sock when she paused. He was going to either need a babysitter or something to keep him occupied while she worked.

  “You used to take turns running the bridge. You’re actually the next highest-ranking officer, but your memory loss will prevent you from performing your duties. You were also the spiritual counselor. Do you know what that is?”

  When he shook his head and looked distressed, she decided not to tell him any more. Maybe if Zade just looked around and got com
fortable, everything would be more likely to return on its own, without the painful headaches that her explanations prompted.

  “Don’t worry about it today. Chiang and I can handle the bridge while you focus on recovering. Let’s find someone to keep you company while I’m busy,” Gwen said gently as she hobbled to the wall com and pressed the green button. “Connect me to Sarinnea of Rylen.”

  Gwen leaned against the wall to take the pressure off one foot. Then shortly she shifted to the other. Looked like she was going to have to go to Medical if she intended to function at a level even close to normal.

  “This is Sarinnea. How may I assist you, Commander?” she asked, her voice raspy with sleep.

  “Oh damn it. Sorry if I woke you. Zade—I mean—Dorian and I are heading to our morning meal. Would you have time to accompany your son on a tour of the Liberator later? Jordon could join you. I can have one of the ensigns escort the group since I know you didn’t really get to learn it all yourself,” Gwen finished, the last words coming out as a squeak when she felt familiar male arms around her waist and clever hands exploring her still mostly naked body.

  “Let me talk to Jordon. I kept him with me last sleep cycle. One moment, please,” Sarinnea requested.

  The moan of arousal was hard to hold in, but Gwen mostly managed, glaring over her shoulder as she let go of the button.

  “I’m talking to your freaking mother, Zade. Let go of me, you sex fiend,” she hissed. “Didn’t you get enough last night?”

  “Evidently not,” he answered, forcing himself to put a little distance between them, but that only offered him the same view that had prompted him to walk across the floor to her in the first place. “I find your hips very alluring. Perhaps you should make a habit of dressing before I wake up if you do not wish me to be stimulated by the sight of your unclothed body.”

  Gwen turned and fisted one sore hand on her hips, silently cursing him when it hurt. “I know you’re not blaming your lack of control on me because then I’d have to kick your disrespectful Siren ass.”

  His deep laugh sounded strange to his ears, but it felt very satisfying to do.

  “How contrary I feel in your presence, and how fortunate I can decipher your strange reprimand by seeing the images in your head. I think I might like you to try doing what you imagine just to see what might happen. Though you fight most fiercely, you are currently wounded. Plus, I have learned your other weaknesses, which I might be able to use,” he bragged.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them to laugh at her again.

  “Yes. In searching inside myself, I find I would use my intimate knowledge against you without guilt. Of course, you would be compensated by the pleasure of our joining. Perhaps we can do the ‘ass kicking’ when you are more healed.”

  The com link opened again and had the effect of snipping the fuse on her temper just before it exploded. Gwen glared and slapped the com to talk. “Yes?”

  “Commander? Jordon and are getting dressed now. We’ll meet you at your morning meal if that is acceptable,” Sarinnea said, her tension at hearing Gwen’s angry tone evident to them all.

  Gwen pressed and held the com button while her glare remained on Zade. “If I let your son live long enough to eat this morning, we’d be happy for you both to join us. And, Sarinnea—you don’t have to call me commander all the time. Given our family connection, you can just call me Gwen. See you at the meal.”

  There was a long silence and then a surprised thanks.

  When Gwen let go and turned back, Dorian stepped into her again, pressing evidence of his interest against the front of her this time. His hands were instantly busy in the back, soothing her muscles and massaging her hips, making her wish they could stay in the room. This time she had no choice but to let out the moan of arousal even though it sparked irritating male laughter in him again.

  “Turn me loose, Zade. Please. I have to go be a leader again. Leaders can’t be moaning and lovesick. It’s not allowed. Plus I want to go by Medical and see if Ania’s awake,” Gwen said, already stretching up on her toes to let him lift her hips higher. Damn him for being so good with his hands.

  “A kiss then to hold us until next time,” Dorian said bargaining, already dipping his head to Gwen’s mouth, catching the next moan she uttered, letting it vibrate along his tongue.

  He felt an answering vibration building for her within him and was just wondering if he could share it without bonding when it rocked both of them without him doing more than just wishing. Gwen fell lax with pleasure in his arms, which had him wickedly laughing into her mouth as his body greedily sucked up her response.

  When the wave had ebbed, Gwen finally forced her legs to support her weight and pushed off Zade’s now much more relaxed body. Seeing renewing lust in the gaze traveling over her again, she put out a hand and pushed him a few steps backwards and away from her.

  “I already begged and said please. That’s all the damn concessions you’re getting this morning. Now stop attacking me. Don’t make me shoot you again just so I can walk out the door.”

  Dorian frowned, and then it was his turn to glare. “You truly shot me with your weapon once? Are you telling me that vision wasn’t a dream the drugs caused?” he demanded.

  “No—it wasn’t a dream. It was a memory, and I had very good reasons at the time for stunning you. Don’t give me a reason to do it again today,” she warned, walking around him. “You’re going to have to learn to control your urges, even the ones I like.”

  “Your explanation is illogical. Why would you harm me merely for wanting to give you pleasure?” Dorian demanded, his frown following her around the room as she dressed.

  “I warned you I wasn’t all that nice. Some would tell you I’m barely female. And I shot you because I asked you to stop what you were doing to me and you didn’t,” Gwen said sharply, disappearing into the bathroom. “I always mean what I say.”

  Moments later, she came out wrapped in hygiene straps. He looked her up and down with disgust. Gwen didn’t know whether to be angrier or just laugh.

  “Must you cover yourself with hideous clothing?” Dorian demanded, the memory of her beautiful assets still clear in his mind.

  “No, of course not,” Gwen said snidely, stopping with her pants unzipped.

  Tossing her shirt aside on the bed, she walked to the door and opened it. “I’ll just go to the bridge like this and see if the ensigns who haven’t bonded with a female in months and months share your opinion about the appearance of my hygiene straps. After the slave outfit yesterday, I’m sure their commander in a real uniform would be a disappointment to them anyway.”

  Remembering the ensigns’ interested gazes on Gwen yesterday, Dorian looked around and saw the shirt she’d chosen on the bed. He held it up to her to show his compliance with her choices, relieved when Gwen shut the door before anyone in the hallway saw her.

  He was more relieved when she finally stalked back to him and let him help her into the shirt that hid everything from everyone’s view. Maybe it was necessary, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

  “I apologize for my possessiveness and my lack of understanding,” he said huskily. “What do I know of your typical clothing? I was reacting only because of my own interest in seeing you without any.”

  Gwen snorted. “Apology and groveling both noted,” she teased, moving her hands to the fasteners only to feel him pulling them gently away.

  “No—do not try. Your hands are still damaged. Please consider asking Medical for some additional treatment when you visit,” he requested, completing the task of fastening her shirt before he was tempted further. After he finished, Dorian framed her face with hands that he couldn’t seem to ever make gentle enough around her. “I seem to have no control over myself, nor do I know how to develop more. I fear it is grievous to us both.”

  Gwen nodded and sighed in resignation. The controlling bastard was still in there, but evidently the nice humble version of Zade was too.
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  “It is not grievous,” Gwen said, mocking his tone when she repeated the formal word. “Your intense desire for me is welcome, but I—I have a job, damn it. You do too. We were going to have to figure our work situation out anyway. I outrank you. A ship’s commander is as bad a choice for a mate as a captain. No matter how much you wish it, you can’t just lock me in our room. That’s little better than being someone’s bonding slave. I won’t be yours, not even for outstanding, better-than-anything-I’ve-ever-known-before-you sex.”

  “I see you read my thoughts as well. Indeed, this responsibility you have to the Liberator is challenging to accept,” he said, watching the disappointment flash through her gaze. He lifted a hand to cup her cheek, telling himself sternly that their time alone, no matter how wonderful, wasn’t all of his mate’s life on the ship, no matter how much he wanted it to be. “I don’t remember myself or us. I don’t remember the version of me you shot but wanted fiercely anyway. I certainly don’t know if you were his best choice for a mate, but everything in me says you are the only choice for me now. I am grateful you did not reject me last night.”

  “Reject you?” Gwen said surprised, laughing at the impossibility of turning down what she had craved for so long. “That was never going to happen, Zade. I promise later I’ll let you indulge all those urges you have even if I have to take boosters to make up for the lack of sleep.”

  Dorian laughed at her sincere words and the image of them together flitting through her mind.

  “Since I’m getting urges again right now, I had better dress as well,” he said, leaning his forehead to hers. “Thank you for your compassion and understanding.”

  “Thank you for making last night as wonderful as any first time could ever be,” Gwen whispered.

  Dorian straightened and sighed heavily. He felt he could make every time as good as the first. It was the waiting for the next chance that was more difficult for him.