On her whimper he inserted a finger into her channel and started a slow ride. He levered her weight up and down with infinite care. Gasping, she ripped her mouth from his and bit his shoulder. She closed her eyes as her orgasm started to build. “Yes.”
With no choice but to hang on with all her strength, she clawed his back through his shirt. “Oh God, yes.”
All of it mingled, combined and then collided in a climax that made her scream. Deep, thrumming contractions etched down the walls of her channel, milking his finger, making her hungry for his cock. She might be sexually inhibited by Tallorian standards, but in that moment, she’d gladly rock her conservative human upbringing and do a few things she’d only heard of on Talloria.
Another chuckle rumbled through his chest.
She lifted her head to stare at him, the vestiges of her orgasm still hanging heavy in her womb. Her brain sifted through their brief but intimate encounter and came up with a space rattling conclusion. “Are you reading my mind?”
“Remember, the sand is empathetic. It tells me what you like and how far I may take our mating.”
“Sand? You mean the dust we walked through when we entered the bar?” He nodded. “Are you going to start explaining what’s going on here?” She would have kicked him in the shins if he wasn’t still holding her to him with his arm and his finger wasn’t planted in her pussy.
“We are not done yet. Once we have finished the mating, I will answer all your questions.”
“Like I’ve never heard that before,” she muttered.
“Navorains are not Tallorians,” he informed her. She watched a frown crease his brow and had the insane urge to caress it away. “We believe in treating our women as our equals, not as receptacles for our seed.” He settled her back on her feet. His fingers slid slowly over the swell of her buttocks until he rested his hand on her hip. “Now, we will continue.”
A fresh tremble of desire shot from her toes to the tips of her hair.
“Undress for me.”
“Can I ask you your name?” Mentally kicking herself for breaking rule number forty-two of the Royal Tallorian Code of Intercourse, she gritted her teeth as she undid her bra’s clasp. Her brain jumped from conclusion to conclusion as the passionate haze wore off and her body relaxed. I should leave now. She couldn’t determine if that was to save herself from the humiliation of her poor sex skills or because the orgasm he’d gifted her with was something she wanted to cherish and not taint with the fiasco which always resulted when she had full-blown intercourse.
“Coleverus Fis Tulden, Supreme Commander of the Navorain War Galley, Vor Tulden.”
“Oh,” she said because it was the only thing she could think of to say. She followed him with her gaze when he strode to the bar and poured himself a glass of water. Recalling the cup of coffee he’d given her, and using it as an excuse to turn her nearly naked breasts away from his view, she spun around. For a split tick she wondered if she should get dressed and get the hell off the space station. Rule number one of the Tallorian Code was, basically, never leave a partner hanging. If she walked out right now, that’s exactly what she would do.
Haltingly, she took a sip of her lukewarm coffee. The smell tantalized her olfactory nerve. The sexual thrum returned ten fold. The music grew stronger. She let her inhibitions go and let the straps of her bra slide down her arms. Slowly, she released the mug and set her undergarment aside.
“Undress for me.”
She felt his aura encroach on her personal space. “Okay. Okay.” No, she wasn’t, and she knew it. She was procrastinating.
“Never forget, Jen’Na, tonight is about you and your pleasure.” He laid a kiss to her shoulder blade. “I will not force you to do anything you do not wish.”
The question what about in the future? sprang to the tip of her tongue but she managed to swallow the inquiry that was unheard of on Talloria. To Tallorians, a man could ask a married woman for sex whenever and wherever he felt like it as long as the two hailed from the same caste. For a Tallorian female to reject such an offer on the desert planet, Talloria Seven, was scandalous—sacrilegious. It was one of the reasons she’d never gone to the matchmaker or even scribbled her name on the Office of Genetic Compatibilities long waiting list. She didn’t want to have to bow down to any man, let alone a philandering Tallorian male.
In her opinion, it was a whorish practice. An ideology her mother had embraced with legs wide open. She was glad her mother had found happiness again. It was the thought of being with a Tallorian who’d also fucked her mom which made Jen’Na sick to her stomach.
She felt Colverus’ arms go around her waist. Her back was plastered to the firm wall of his chest. “Just listen to the music,” he whispered against the sensitive shell of her ear. “Let it take us both into oblivion.”
In truth, she didn’t want to think about anything. She wanted a darkness of splendid nothingness to envelope her—forever. That’s how low her mood had sunk, how uncomfortable in her own skin she’d become. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can.” She shook her head as an image of her sitting at her work station popped into her mind’s eye. The single button she pushed to start the conveyor belt was so mundane it made her feel worthless.
This wasn’t a new problem for her. In fact it was a very common problem when it came to sex and her. Every time she felt as if she’d taken a step forward, her pathetic life reared its ugly head to reinforce her insecurities. “I know I can’t.”
“You can,” he said, his hands drifting up her abdomen to cup her breasts. “Let the music inside you. Only there can it work its magic.” He raked his teeth down the long column of her neck. “Feel it with me. Close your eyes and see the music.” Gentle kisses caressed her left shoulder blade. “Walk into oblivion with me, Jen’Na.”
Goosebumps rose on her arms and her nipples tightened into hard buds when he pinched them between his thumbs and forefingers. The uncommon throb took hold of her crotch again.
“Take another drink,” he prompted her.
Her hand shook so hard the mug rattled against her teeth when she sipped her coffee. Managing to swallow a small sip, she didn’t just hear the drums pulsing in her subconscious. Oh no, she felt the beat drive down her.
“Take your clothes off while I dispense with our drinks,” he said.
The haze flooded her once more. It was a fog where she knew she was alive, the tingles attacking her crotch told her that much, but she wondered if this was what death was like. Unthinking, she dispensed with her skirt and her panties.
“Leave your shoes on. They make me hard for you,” he said a tick before she was about to kick them off.
Okay, so he likes stilettos. Who can blame him? She did too. They made her feel tall and sexy. Slowly spinning around on the toe of her silver-accented high heel, she lifted her gaze to meet and lock with his. “Where were we?”
“You were about to get…how do you say it?” He strode toward her. “Thoroughly fucked?”
Holy God and by the Goddess Avor. “Okay, here I am.” She shivered when his hot gaze practically devoured her. Her passions rose. Her pussy screamed for a good pounding.
“If I could, I would keep you naked all our days together,” he told her plainly. “You stir my blood, Tesra. All you need do is look and see how my body is on fire for you.”
She opened her mouth to demand a meaning to the endearment but found the music stole her logical mind. “Tell me what to do?” she asked instead.
“Touch yourself. I would view your glory from here.”
Noting the thick bulge pressing against his pants, she pulled up every last bit of bravado she could muster and let her hand flow over her skin. “Here?” she asked when her hand rested on her tit.
“I prefer to see you service yourself.” No sooner had the words left his mouth then he commanded something in his native language. The table lowered to the height of a bench and she sat on the cloth-covered surface. “I wish to know the expression of bliss you wear whe
n you reach mareaux.”
She shook her head, sending her long, blonde hair swirling around her shoulders. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Allow me to assist you.”
Please, please, please and yes, yes, yes shouted in her head. The tune went to work on her body once more. She should have been unabashedly ashamed for even considering this. It’s the music’s fault.
Hell, yes, it is. “What do you want me to do now?”
“Relax,” he replied simply. He strode to the table and knelt on one knee. His hands caressed a hot path up her skin but didn’t touch her core. A slow exhalation stroked her feminine folds turning up the desire. “You are beautiful, Tesra.”
Lying back, she shook her head. A soft sprinkling of dust patted down on her from the ceiling. She went to brush it away, but he caught her wrists in one of his hands. The coil of heat in her belly became an inferno and he released her. He guided her hands down her body until they came to a stilted halt in the thatch of moist curls at the juncture of her thighs. “Touch myself?”
“Please,” he whispered. He helped her find her hotspot then dip lower until her fingers were moving in and out of her channel. It wasn’t good enough. She wanted him to fill her with his cock.
She peeked at him through narrowed eyes to watch him remove his clothes. Damn, he was something else. His skin glistened like gold in the low light. There wasn’t a slovenly part on him. He was all man. “Hell, yes.”
He chuckled at her but his grin was wolfish. “You aren’t touching yourself.”
“Oops.” The feel of her fingers moving in and out of her was intense. Her libido went into hyperdrive when he knelt in front of her and licked her clit. If it hadn’t been for his hand on her lower belly, she would have flown off the table.
Don’t think, she commanded herself. Just feel it.
“Tell me what you want, Tesra.”
“You.”
“Tell me you are certain. Once we start there will be no turning back.”
“I’m…sure.” She sensed him shift positions. Beneath her the table rose to a height which accommodated his tall stature. All she knew was want, and all she desired was him. From the first tentative stroke of his cockhead over her slick folds, she was lost to the sensations rioting within her. “Fuck me.”
“That is my intent.”
I will not disappoint him. I won’t.
“I highly doubt you will.” He slid into her slowly.
She inhaled a deep lungful of air and exhaled in a long, drawn-out moan. “Oh God.” He felt so huge inside her. Her walls stretched to accommodate him.
“This is what you wanted, was it not?”
“Yeah.” She gripped the edge of the table, pulling herself back on his first tentative thrust and every measured plunge after that. The tune playing in her subconscious turned dramatic, delving. Her next climax was right there and within reach. She closed her eyes, her instincts reaching for it. “Fuck me hard.”
“Look at me!”
Opening her eyes, she panted for release. “Give it to me.”
His thrusts were deep and hard. “You like this.”
“Yes.” She gasped when she reached the precipice of something attractive yet frightening. A cold, vaporous swatch of space where nothing existed except the emotions curling her toes.
“With me,” he ordered her tightly, his thrusts turning rampant. “I want you in oblivion.”
He got his wish. She shouted out his name as driving contractions racked her body and the nothingness consumed her.
Right behind her, he whispered her name on his climax and joined her in the starless, matterless place she recognized had a fitting name.
Oblivion.
Chapter Two
Beware a warrior on a mission.
Coleverus eyed her suspiciously. Was it possible? Have I finally found my Tesra after all these years? He helped her up and steadied her with his hands on her hips. She’d ridden the wave into Oblivion better than Lassistra, his first wife, his Tesra, ever had. There was no working her into the terrifying darkness with sweet words or using several doses of the aphrodisiac most Navorain men gave their partners to ease the transition from this plane into the next one where they found their release.
Debate all he wanted; he couldn’t miss the signs. The mystic sand of the Navorain home world, Lazarus, had spoken. She’d heard the music as well. A good omen she was truly meant for him.
Now, the hard part was upon him. He had to convince her they were meant to be together. There were also protocols to be followed. “Did I hurt you, Tesra?”
“That was incredible,” she said and sighed against his chest. He reveled in the feel of her arms wrapped around his waist. “I should get cleaned up and out of your hair. Can you direct me to the personal care room?”
Getting out of his hair was out of the question. Drawing on his previous experience with Lassistra, he’d bet his Navorain soul she’d prefer a PCR of her own design. “You can create your own wherever you wish within my private suite. Just ask the computer and it will appear.”
“That’s insane.” She giggled. “Talk about technologically advanced. I could use some of your intelligent doodads in my home on Talloria. It’s rather rustic.”
He watched her delicate fingers reach down. For what, he didn’t know. Her breasts caressed his penis on the way, her mouth decadently close to his thigh. The sand would not let off its insistent call. His cock stirred as the passion was ignited once more. He also detected a note of sadness in her tone.
“Can I borrow this?” She lifted his shirt from the floor.
“Yes,” he bit out between his gritted teeth. Torn between lifting her in his arms and taking her again and wanting to lay her out on his bed which would provide them more comfort than the hard table, he reluctantly let his arms fall to his sides. “Would you prefer I create your PCR?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to try the technology.”
Nodding, he swallowed the groan rising in his throat when she tossed on his shirt. A smile lifted his lips. She appeared the veritable vagabond in his tunic, which hid nothing. The globes of her breasts peeked from the arm holes and the low ‘V’ of his collar dipped to show him a healthy expanse of her cleavage. The fine Andanorian silk caressed her curves and the slits at the sides provided him a spectacular view of her creamy-skinned thighs. “You can think of your dream PCR. The sand has nanocytes in it which are linked to the station’s central computer.”
“I love alien technology.”
He could understand that. His few experiences with Earthlings had shown him they were an inquisitive race with much to learn about the universe as a whole. Their galaxy was still a mystery to them. They were, in essence, infants by comparison to the Navorains. The Tallorians weren’t any more advanced. Both species had millennia to go before they were on the level of the Navorains or another Parent Strain. “How does a human land on a planet like Talloria?” he asked as the computer buzzed away in the far corner.
“My mom moved there after the Last Great War,” she somberly informed him.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I should not have pried.” The sand came to his rescue. Through the nanocytes he watched her days on the dust bowl of a planet. His heart thudded hard for her. No wonder the sand bound her to him. They were of a like circumstance.
“It’s okay. I’m still trying to get used to the Tallorians.”
“I imagine.” Tilting his head to the room she’d created, he silently complimented her for her quick mind and ability to adapt to their unfamiliar technology. He hoped she’d be just as eager to become his mate. “It is finished.”
She strode for the doorway but stopped a few feet from the PCR. “Will you be here when I’m done?”
“Most definitely.” He waited for the door to swish shut before he walked to the com panel and contacted the bridge. “Initiate protocol Fis Tulden 7877, code Lazarus-Alpha.”
“At once.” A tick of time
passed before the voice came across. “The Vor Tulden is enroute from Prometheus station and will rendezvous in five stellar hours, Supreme Commander,” the communications officer responded.
Depressing the button again to break the com-link, he telepathically ordered the computer to prepare his section for its journey to where it would finally dock with the massive Vor Tulden. From there, they would head for the desert planet of Lazarus where he’d introduce Jen’Na to the spirits of the Great Fathers and perform the ceremony which would bind her to him until Oblivion took them from each other. “Computer, show me Lazarus.”
Like a cat stalking its prey, he moved toward the screen blasting to life on the far wall. His heart pounded as he watched the cleaning bots whir over the dust in their endless quest to remove the fine specs from the billions of grave markers. One for each of his people killed in the destruction of Navora. Empty graves. An eternal statement that all species were delicate.
Above him, a panel slid open and bathed him in golden light. He bowed his head as the solar shower shrouded him. The symbolic cleansing not only reminded all Navorains of the final days of Lazarus, when its primary sun burned brighter than it had in millions of years before but also of the blood drenching their warring forefathers’ hands.
Once the shower finished its job, he returned his gaze to the hallowed ground of Lazarus. The markers were a stark reminder of what could happen should the League of Sentient Beings not learn the lesson Andromeda had taught them all. “Show me the memorial.”
The computer screen blinked to the obelisk planted deep in the ground. Unlike the grave markers, there were no cleaning bots to care for the memorial. The stone spire wasn’t just a marker paying due homage to the original survivors from the planet who had escaped when Lazarus’ sun burned out but an ode to those who had died on Navora.
Intimate Space Page 2