by Erin Tate
She tilted her head back and rested her chin on his chest. “Yes. To both.” The slim box, device resting snugly in its confines, still occupied a place on the nearby table. “Kede?”
“Yes, my harae?”
“I want to take your mark and then I want to give you yours if you wish to accept it. Then I want you to take me to bed.” She pressed to her tiptoes and brushed her lips across his. “Make me yours in all ways, my warrior.”
* * *
Kede did not believe his legs would hold him. Him, Holder of House Tria, Commander of the Vehly, stood upon weak knees due to a few whispered words from Joyce. From his harae.
His.
She bared his young, a sweet female or a worthy male, growing within her body. And she wanted him as her harau.
His.
“Come, my harae.” He withdrew his arms from her and reached for the slim device Resane had provided, one his friend had cobbled together using machinery from medical. Never before had any on a battleship required joining. “Let us go to our bedroom.” He used the Terran word, the syllables tripping on his tongue, but his Joyce liked them so he allowed himself to feel foolish as he used her native words. “We will program your symbol and then we shall claim one another.”
Her smile was blinding, brighter than the bright light itself, and joy filled him. He, gruff warrior, seduced a beautiful female and was joining with her now.
Kede led her to the room they’d been sharing for days and she was quick to strip, to exposure her curves to his gaze. He knew every inch of her body, every dip and fall of skin and flesh. He knew she liked to be licked on her hip, but she liked her cleet nibbled. And her pussy. Her pussy enjoyed being filled by him. If it wasn’t for his physical limitations and duties. He would always be inside her.
She had lost all inhibition during her Needing, no longer timid before him and he loved seeing all of her. He followed her, eyes trained on the sway of her hips and her ass. He had become a fan of her ass. And her tits.
“Are you coming?” Her husky voice had him focusing on her face. It was flushed pink and he read that as excitement—sexual excitement—and joy. His harae seemed to be filled with anticipation. And not him. But he would remedy that soon.
“Not yet.” The joke—he had read of these extensively—caused his harae to giggle and smile widely.
She rolled her eyes and crawled atop the rumpled bed. None had been allowed access to their private space and it showed. The sheets were twisted and half gone, and after the hours of mating, he was glad their mattress was made of biopad. All fluids and evidence of their furious and tender joinings were taken away by the material.
“Come on, you.”
Yes, he would like to come on her. In her. Instead of voicing the words for he was not sure how she would take them, he followed her example. He tore his clothing from his body, not missing the way her pupils dilated and the hitch in her breath. Just as she stole his control, he did the same to her.
As it should be.
He moved until he sat beside her, reclaiming the device as he settled. Accessing the necessary data was easy.
“This is my symbol,” he murmured as he brought up the emblem of the House Tria. “And I have added my own name here,” he pointed to the characters that represented his name. “It is not very feminine…”
He thought over the markings of other females he’d seen in the past. Theirs had been swirling and delicate whereas Kede’s was blocky and rough and much like a warrior who had seen many battles.
“Perhaps this is not right.” He frowned and a new worry assaulted him. What if she disliked it so much she denied him?
No. She carried his young. She said the words in front of a witness. She could not reject him now.
It is always at the female’s wish.
Perhaps she could. He frowned harder.
“What’s wrong with it?” Her voice refocused his attention on her, and saw a frown that matched his own.
“It is very…”
“Beautiful? Yours?”
Kede shook his head. “You are delicate and soft and this is… not. Other females—”
Joyce rolled her eyes. “Other females aren’t in bed with you. Give it to me.”
“My harae—” She snatched it from his hands and he clenched his hands into fists to restrain himself. He would not battle with his harae over the tablet. She might still change her mind.
She poked and prodded the small device, rapidly opening and closing files, manipulating the image. He watched as she brought up her name, twisted and turned things until they were left with a perfect balance of them both.
“There. What do you think of that?”
It was strong yet soft. It would not embarrass him on the field—not that he would ever be embarrassed of his harae’s choice of marking, he had a mate and they did not—while it also wouldn’t overwhelm her femininity.
“It is…” More emotion overwhelmed him, desperation to carry her marking overriding all else. “You are mine. This will say that you are mine,” he could not hide the harshness in his voice. “Mine.”
His cawk was hard and aching, ready to fill her and claim her both inside and out. He craved her with every breath and he could not suppress the desire to stake his claim.
“No,” she shook her head and he froze.
His heart no longer beat, blood no longer rushing through his veins. “You…” shock had him whispering. “You are denying me? You carry my young! You cannot do so!” That same shock had him shouting. “I will not let you!”
Joyce glared at him, her brilliant eyes darkening and he realized perhaps he spoke in haste. She growled at him, his sweet harae, and then he found himself with his lap filled with her. As fast as a Terran snake she struck and shoved him back as she climbed over him, placing knees on either side of his hips. Her wetness kissed his cawk and he fought the need to grasp her hips and fill her in one stroke.
He managed to keep his hands to himself. He did, however, rock his hips and slide his length along the soft wetness of her pussy. She enjoyed this. He knew she did.
Joyce shuddered and moaned and he knew he had her. He would keep her drugged on pleasure while he marked her and then—
“I wasn’t saying no, I was saying…” He flexed and she gasped. Yes, he enjoyed this game. “I was saying that you would be mine.” She circled her hips and it was his turn to moan. His harae’s body was so… She did it again and he lost speech. “Do you hear me? Mine.”
“Anything, my harae.” Anything.
“You’ll wear my mark, my warrior?” She traced her fingers over his collarbones and across his chest. “Here?”
She repeated the move and his bahls drew up tight against him. “Anything.”
“It could say ‘My name is Kede and I’m an asshole.’”
Kede grinned. “If it says I am your asshole, then I shall wear it with pride.”
Her smile slipped and he cursed himself. What had he said wrong? He would apologize and hope she explained later.
“Joyce—”
“That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” she whispered and then lifted the tablet to show him her design.
It held the power of his family name while cradling the gentleness—when she was not shouting at him—of his harae.
A blend of them both.
“It is beautiful, my harae. The most beautiful symbol I have ever seen.” He did not acknowledge that his eyes ached or throat hurt. These emotions were reserved for his harae. Warriors did not embrace tears.
“You’ve see many?”
He tore his attention from the mark he would soon wear. “Every male and female in my House sends announcements of their joinings to me. So that I may know who else falls under my protection. There are many Trias in the galaxy, my harae, and truly this is the most beautiful.”
Pink stained her cheeks and he knew that—this time—it was not in anger. He had said something right. He did not know what. Perhaps she would explain that la
ter as well.
“You’ll wear it?”
“With pride,” he immediately answered. With pride, he would find every reason to expose himself to others to boast of his claim.
Her eyes softened and she sighed. “How do we do this?”
Joyce still seemed willing so he would hurry before he said something else to annoy her and join them before she changed her mind. He reached for the other half of the pieced together joining plate. “This piece is placed on your skin while the command is given to the device. It will imprint the symbol.” He clutched it in his hand. “It will never be removed, my harae. Even at my death, it would remain.”
“I don’t want it to ever come off and if you mention dying I will beat you.”
Kede tilted his head to the side. “I may enjoy this. What else would drive you to—” His harae growled at him and he smiled. “You are glorious when you are angry with me.”
She shook her head and reached for the fabric joining plate. “Here, let’s position it on me and—”
He snatched it away before she could make contact. “No,” he shook his head. “I will go first. I will make sure this pain is as Resane described. If I feel it is too much for you to take, I will at least be tied to you. We can complete the ceremony when I am assured it would not harm you.”
Joyce’s eyes softened once more and he believed he saw love there. He prayed to the bright light he was correct. He would savor her love and would give her his own in return. He would tell her so once they were bound. A male could only be so vulnerable.
“Okay,” she nodded and he allowed her to take the fabric plate, to drape it across his chest and then press it in place. “There.”
“It is where you desire it?” He glanced down to see that it rode high on his chest. It was possible some would be visible above the collar of his uniform. That pleased him greatly.
“Yes. What next?”
“You shall press this button on the pad.” He reached over and sought the datapad so she could “do the honors” as Terrans said.
Her expression changed, transformed as it often did during her Needing and desire replaced all other emotions inside her. “Do you know what helps offset pain, my harau?”
She purred the word.
He did not believe she spoke of a hypo. “No, my harae.”
Her smile turned knowing and enigmatic. “Let me show you.”
Joyce’s showing included a gradual slide along his body, her moist pussy leaving his cawk and she traveled down him until she lay beneath his spread thighs. His length twitched in anticipation. He had learned to enjoy this position. She would lay before him and taste him as he had tasted her the first time they came together. He truly loved being tasted. She explained she was giving him a “blow job” though he did not understand why it was referred to as “blowing” when she sucked.
It felt good. He did not argue.
“My Joyce?” He would not admit to a soul that his voice squeaked as he said her name for that was the moment she licked the head of his cawk and pressed a kiss to his flesh. “What about…” She did it again and he gasped. “The mark…”
She did not answer him with words, but merely swallowed his length in one gentle lower of her mouth. His bahls immediately tightened and his cawk throbbed and he fought to contain himself lest he explode. He was not prepared to come before his harae. Before he became her harau.
“Joyce.”
She scraped her teeth along his cawk and he groaned deeply. He would never admit he enjoyed pain to his cawk as part of their lovemaking. No, he would never admit to lovemaking. Saying the words aloud might bring other males’ minds to such an act and then they would imagine… She cupped his bahls, gently rubbing them with her fingertips and then tugged on that part of him. “Fek, Joyce!”
She sucked harder and he thought she would pull his genetic material from him through will alone. The pleasure of her mouth and hands drove him mad, making him burn for her. Her pace increased as she drew him in and then released him, baring his slick skin to the air. She was beautiful, her dark locks rippling over his hips and those teal and coral eyes locked on his. She was a trusting soul. Now. Though there were many times when—
She moaned around him and trembled, and he knew she found pleasure in the act as well. She would not find her woman’s pleasure, but she would be prepared for his possession.
“Please, my harae. I wish to fill—”
Joyce released him, drawing a whimper from him. If asked, he would deny it unto death. “Come for me, my warrior.” She drew the datapad close. “Come and I will initiate the mark.” She licked him once more, sending a bolt of pleasure down his spine. “I will make you my harau.”
Kede recognized her resolve and jerked his head in a stiff nod. He was a warrior and he knew when a battle had been lost. He was not sad to admit he’d lost this one. It was a sweet, sweet failure that he embraced with open arms.
His harae returned to her task, swallowing him, tasting and teasing him with her teeth and tongue. He kept his gaze trained on her and allowed himself to become lost in the sensations, in the feel of her hot mouth on him. He managed to keep his hips still as she pleasured him, licking and sucking in equal measure.
Once again his bahls were hard and tight against him, ready to fill his beautiful harae’s mouth. Rising to the edge was quick, the pleasure close and nearly within grasp. He panted with the need, the desire for her, and he prayed to the bright light that he would recover quickly to fill her once he accepted her marking.
“My harae,” he gasped and groaned, eyes drifting closed as the ecstasy overtook him. He was so close. “My harae…”
His spine tingled, the feeling settling on his lower back and then wrapping around him as if invisible hands stroked his cawk. Stroked him and then he arched without thought, mouth hanging open as a shout escaped his lips. “Joyce!”
At that same instant, heat and stinging pain assaulted his chest, the burn adding to his pleasure and not stealing an ounce of joy he experienced. The warmth intensified, the pain growing, and that sent his release even higher. His cawk pulsed within her mouth, bahls releasing down her throat and she rippled around his length as she swallowed his genetic material.
“My Joyce, my harae,” he gasped and fought for breath. “My heart.”
Kede collapsed against the bed, exhausted by the most powerful or-gah-sm he’d ever experienced and he forced his eyelids to part. The heat on his chest told him of her mark’s presence, but he tugged the fabric plate anyway and looked at the black design now marring his skin. With a trembling hand, he traced what he could see of the symbol they’d designed.
The joining of two houses. Enner and Tria forever linked.
“My harae,” he murmured, meeting her intent stare. “Mine.”
Joyce gave him one last lick and propped herself on her elbows, a smirk in place. The position allowed him to see her breasts and his mouth watered, his lips aching to wrap around those plump nubs. He loved suckling her, loved—
“Am I?”
Kede shook his head. “What?”
She pushed to her knees and brushed her midnight hair over her shoulder, giving him a better view of her body. “Am I yours?”
“Yes,” he growled and realized that while his skin was now covered in their symbol, hers was not. That would change. Immediately.
* * *
Joyce wasn’t sure why she teased. Hell, yes she did. Because it was fun. It was fun to tease her serious warrior.
Which was why she found herself flat on her back with Kede kneeling between her spread thighs. He held the fabric and narrowed his eyes as he stared at her.
“I will place this on you. Make you my harae for all to know.”
“Yes,” she hissed, anxious and ready.
“It does not hurt much, but pleasure will make you forget.”
She grinned. “You make me forget my name when you’re inside me. I doubt I’ll notice.”
He gave a stiff nod. “As long
as you do not forget my name, I am unconcerned.”
Of course.
He didn’t seem to need her to say anything because then he placed the fabric on her skin, draping it exactly as he desired and then pressing it into place to ensure it didn’t move or shift. God love alien adhesives. When he was done, she realized he was already ready for her, his once soft cock now firm again.
Ah, alien stamina and recovery.
“It is my turn to make you mine.” He sat on his heels and palmed his cock, stroking himself from base to tip. It was something else she’d taught him during her Needing. Teasing each other heightened their pleasure and he knew how much she enjoyed watching him.
Hopefully he wouldn’t tease her for too long because she ached, ached for him.
“Are you prepared, my Joyce?” She nodded, but it wasn’t enough. She knew it wouldn’t be. “Show me.” He was gruff and demanding and that intensified her cravings.
Without a thought to denying him, she spread her knees wider, exposing herself to his gaze fully. She was soaking wet and ready for him. But that wasn’t just what he craved. No, it went further. She slid one hand between her thighs, slipping them through the evidence of her need, and then lifted the glistening digits toward him.
“I’m ready for you. Taste me. See that I want you.” She murmured the words and was gratified by the new light that filled his eyes.
He leaned toward her, mouth open, and sucked the two fingers past his lips. He lapped at her skin, licking each finger with a deep moan before retreating.
“You crave me, my harae, and now you shall have me.”
He gave her what she craved above all. He gave her himself. In one smooth thrust, he filled her, stretching and stroking as no other had before. He touched her in places she’d never known existed and then each time he helped her discover more. He was strong, her warrior, driving deeper and harder with each thrust. He jarred them, sending her breasts bouncing with each entrance and forcing a gasping moan or groan from her lips.
He fucked her roughly but with emotion that surprised her. He was hers in a way she’d never imagined. She wasn’t someone who warranted a second look, a deeper inspection. She didn’t attract notice.