by Y. M. Roger
And, with her proximity, the growl seemed to transition to a very distant though very distinct purring sound – it was almost an intangible encounter, and she glanced questioningly once again to Kilgar’s face. There was no expression there except the light in those magnificent eyes that captivated her entire being this close to him – but this was about as close as she was willing to chance right now – in fact, she had to allow for the fact that she was completely making this up in her head and was actually touching him and getting near him when he really did not want such contact.
Where is my confident female that handles all of the hardened criminals and wayward adolescents? Your male is right here and you act like he would not want …
Jolted back to reality by her Miannmarr’s insane thoughts – of course, he may not … probably does not … nope, no way a man of Captain Marid’s caliber would want them. He was simply playing nice for now until he could get around again by himself. After all, she had made it clear in their first encounter that she was all he had to get food and such. Or, if the Captain freely and openly enjoyed women the way Balstir had oft times described, he was probably trying to get a good look down her shirt – kind of like the adolescents at the youth home where they volunteered on their days off.
Once again, Miannmarr sighed inside of Mysstree and let it go – she had to find a way to convince her strong-willed Beauty otherwise.
Mysstree almost embarrassingly removed her hand again and raised herself to full height to stand beside the bed – having a really difficult time pulling her gaze away from Kilgar’s charming grin – it was quite obvious why the females were such an easy prize for him. She finally managed to do so but felt herself blush again as a result of that inner struggle – praying internally that she did not look like one of those fumbling little adolescents to the much older Captain.
And that he could not scent her arousal which she had not felt before this moment in her life.
Her blush deepened as did the need to leave the room – to get away from him and not embarrass herself further.
“Would you like another drink before we go, Captain?” She smiled, trying to hide her nervousness as well as her sudden passion toward him, “I do not know how long we will be gone.”
Glancing at the screen to read her words but then focusing back onto her face with a true predatoral stare, he nodded to indicate a “Yes” response.
Mysstree swallowed hard as she concentrated on the length of her reach and the gentleness of it to find the water without knocking it off the side table – she would never be able to locate it on the floor in any reasonable amount of time – she would have to let Miannmarr do it which would only provoke the now-seemingly appeased demercriere.
She willed her trembling hands to halt their tremors as she cupped the small tumbler and held the straw to his perfect lips.
Nostrils flaring, she knew the Captain could smell something different about her, but she would not look him in the eyes. When he seemed to finish drinking, she withdrew and carefully placed it back onto the table.
“We will get your food, Captain,” and, placing her hands on the bed to get her starting position correct to navigate as gracefully as possible in finding the door, she turned to leave.
Until she heard the low, enticing growl again and turned back to look at Kilgar. His stare had, if such were possible, intensified, and he licked his lips at the same time he indicated “No” with their agreed upon eye combination.
Furrowing her brow and momentarily forgetting her physical state, Mysstree looked at him in puzzlement.
“What?”
“No” he indicated again.
“No, what? You said you were …”
Kilgar indicated for her to lean closer. Leaning in, her hand rose to touch him again as she angled her ear toward his mouth, but she intercepted her reach this time – she would not appear to be that needy little adolescent!
The Captain took a really deep breath through his nose and let it out before whispering this time.
“No alone after.” That followed by the mellow growl of the predator both she and Miannmarr knew to be inside the possibly unstable male – but they could both hear the docility underlying the sound this time.
You see, my Beauty, we are getting better at reading them.
Mysstree turned so that their eyes met again and, once again, she could not help her hand as it rose to stroke his hairline – the action immediately resulting in the ethereal purring again. She tried but could not resist the smile his handsome face brought to hers as she nodded.
“O-O-Okay,” she answered trepidatiously – her mind already racing as to where she would sleep in the extremely small room. Mysstree knew she would end up on the floor because that chair Balstir had shown them by the window seemed made for a more “padded” being. Mysstree snorted at her childlike thoughts of how tombul a being would need to be to actually find comfort in that particular chair, and, once again, her little hand shot to cover the noise, the action resulting in another smile from the Captain – a sight that still took her breath away.
Makers! She had to get away from him before she completely melted into a useless female with no brain cells!
Mysstree gently patted his restrained arm.
“Be back soon,” she tried to smile without looking like a gushing ahmak, positioned herself with respect to the side of the bed again, and stepped toward the door to leave.
She could not help herself – she turned back one last time and – finding that he was watching her intently and immediately grinned – let another blushing smile grace her face before stepping out.
I think, while you are eating, we should invite him to see his chambers, yes? He can be mobile in a few hurs and his actions tend to indicate that he is, at least, attracted to …
Mysstree pushed away from wall far enough that her hand still trailed along it with her steps.
“Oh, my goodness, no, professor! How embarrassing would asking him to our chambers be after the complete idiot I just made of myself? Can you just imagine …”
But all of our choices throughout the cycles, they now all make sense. Our chambers are perfect for …
“The fact that they may be perfect for him means nothing if he does not want the one who is to share it with him. No, I am pretty sure I can guess what he would think of a chamber invitation from some little inexperienced female like us,” Mysstree was quite obviously mortified by Miannmarr’s idea, “I might as well write the word ‘ignorant fahise’ across my forehead, yes?”
Miannmarr actually chuckled just a bit.
But, my Beauty, we are nestlinger and that …
“I know we are nestlinger, professor, but seriously! I am thinking the Makers might have goofed on this one,” Mysstree was actually without words for the moment – she had to get this unfamiliar desire inside of her under control before she walked back into that room.
It is only natural that you should desire him inside of you, Beauty, he is your destined mate and …
“Oh, Makers, that is it! Drop it!” Mysstree was used to this kind of talk and language from criminals and even many of the teenagers – both in trouble and not – but never with reference to herself.
She heaved a sigh of exasperation as well as relief as they reached the kitchen door. Miannmarr simply shook her own head in worry – she needed to get her cognate to see what she was sure Captain Marid was signaling.
Mysstree spied Hyndaus’ bright emotional signature and, feeling around to find the upper cabinets to either side of the doorway in which she stood, scratched loudly to get the jovial female’s attention.
Instantly, Hyndaus responded, although she did not approach them this time – the female was obviously in the middle of meal preparations.
“Hello young one!” her voice, as before, was pure laughter to Mysstree, “Has Captain Marid been behaving hi
mself?”
Mysstree nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but she did not have a moment to respond before Hyndaus continued.
“Well, I had hoped he would,” she chuckled to herself, “Such a good male – just needs to find the right female, you know?”
Once again Mysstree tried and failed to get a word into the conversation.
“And I already have his meal prepared. It is there to your left, baby, just reach out,” she paused as Mysstree followed her instructions, “There you go – I put it in a basket for you so that you could still follow the walls. There are some sandwiches in there for you, too, baby. Slither and I laughed at the thought of anyone actually enjoying what our Captain Marid has to eat right now.”
Hyndaus once again laughed out loud, the sound of the bierabon clearly mixed in with her chortles.
“Thank you for all of your help, hanfe –” Mysstree caught herself, “Hyndaus. Especially for the smiles!”
Hyndaus laughed as she busied herself once again.
“Oh, Slither and I always have those, young one! It makes life so much more enjoyable! You take care of yourself and that Captain of yours!”
Mysstree muttered to herself.
“Sweet Makers, I wish.”
She was still dealing with her body’s overt reactions to his smiles and his gaze before they left the room just moments before.
Oh, but they are ours, Beauty, do you not see it in the Captain’s fascination with you?
Mysstree scoffed and tried to steer her altre in a different direction.
“Got that one figured out, professor. He was hungry, and we are food.”
Miannmarr laughed as Mysstree made their way back to the room.
And the purring, Beauty?
“Was his beast. I am sure that being injured and then confined, he needed the scent of quarry on which to ponder. There is so much of me that wants to believe differently, Miannmarr, but the fact that his big ol’ demercriere finds us comfort food to ponder, really means nothing about the Captain’s feelings. Can we please just drop it?”
Miannmarr threw up her hands in frustration. But then, she pondered, what if her Mysstree was correct?
What was it about this female? This Mysstree?
Other than she is perfect?
Kilgar ignored his beast as he bathed in the comfort and growing desire her ministrations on his legs and feet seemed to stoke in him – and that was not all they stoked: a need to have the female on top of him, himself buried deep inside of her grew as the hurs drew onward. He tried desperately to concentrate on her words on the screen and not on his body’s desires – knowing that, even if she were not Balstir’s little sister, he could do nothing with her for a while yet.
But we could lick her – lick her all over. Everywhere. We are only confined for a few more hurs.
As if on cue, Mysstree opened her mouth in what must have been a yawn as she raised those intriguing, lightly-furred hands with the tiny black nails to cover her mouth.
Instantly, his visions turned to having her mouth on his rod – the one that was already aching to be inside of her – thank the Gods for bunched blankets and such – and his mouth went dry. He fought his own desire down and prevented a growl – not of his beast but of his own.
Mmmmmmmmm. It will be good soon, yes?
Oh, yeah. Kilgar stared at her until she got that little annoyed look on her face again – Gods! He was really gone on her! – and pointed to the screen. He glanced at her inquiry there and had to grin – he knew that his hunger probably showed in his grin, but he did not care.
He had accepted the fact that he clearly had brain damage.
He had never denied his body what it wanted in the past – and, now that he and his beast were on the same page, why not? She certainly had the most inviting curves he ever wanted to sink his hands and teeth and, yeah, his rod into … at least, he thought they were. It could simply be a result of the brain damage …
We do not have brain damage, you esholeshek! She is ours!
Kilgar lost all train of thought as she came closer and began rubbing his forehead contact spot for both he and his beast again.
“Hungry,” he whispered. Oh, so, kahrolasi hungry!
Then she smiled one of those whole body smiles – lickable dimples and all – and he barely controlled his body’s urge to rock into her.
Those luscious lips moved again so he reluctantly glanced up at the screen just in time to see the final phrase scroll across it.
And then leave you alone so that you can sleep.
As she pulled herself and her hand away from them. Kilgar felt himself join his beast in a low, pleading growl.
Both of them wanted her as close as they could get her.
All the time.
She stopped and briefly looked curiously at them – please, please, do not have scared her away again – but then she smiled again and leaned in again. Kilgar felt his beast purring – and just where in the realm of godsfall did an overgrown demercriere learn to kahrolasi purr? – and it felt really good inside of him mixed with her spiced peppers that had suddenly grown laced with … musk!
Holy Gods! She was aroused for him! Kilgar almost spilled in his pants – he wanted to touch her there – touch and taste what he was beginning to agree with his beast belonged to them.
To him.
About kahrolasi time, Captain!
But, just as the brain damage began to convince him of what this female could be for them, she stood and pulled away her unique yet beautiful hand. A slight tinge of red rose along her porcelain skin all the way through the fine hairs that lined her jaw and mottled itself into her delectable cheeks. How wonderful – she actually blushes! When was the last time a woman had blushed in his presence – when had the females he had bedded not been of enough experience to whet his carnal appetites and keep him from having to think about what to do – it was always a rutting.
A release.
With a cognate slut.
Kilgar ignored his beast for the enjoyment of his own personal revelation – brain damage induced or not – as he watched Mysstree’s lips– lips that Kilgar wanted to suck and to ravish until they were swollen and ready to surround his hardness – began to move again. He quickly glanced at the screen to get the jist of what she was saying without letting his eyes dart away for long.
Another drink before we go, Captain? I do –
Answering her in the positive, knowing that it would bring her closer to him again, Kilgar watched the extreme amount of handling this female did to accomplish things – the way she gently touched everything – almost as if paving a tactile pathway from her to whatever object she sought.
And then the brain damage again – agreeing with his beast that it was quite a thought as to what those hands could do to them. She had certainly been a melek the way she had worked on his lower legs and …
We do not have kahrolasi brain damage!
Whatever. Kilgar simply did not want her to go away right now – best to let her know that she would not be leaving after the meal. As she turned to go, he found himself growling low to get her attention – she turned immediately, and Kilgar tried to get the message across to her. She frowned again – he could not wait to nuzzle that face – but leaned in.
“No alone after.”
Kilgar watched as she acknowledged him with an extremely shy and bashful ‘okay’ – he did not even have to look at the screen for that one.
He felt his beast growl in contentment as he inhaled deeply again and let her peppers and musk become part of him as she turned to leave.
When she stopped at the door and turned to smile, Kilgar smiled back, all sorts of erotic images flooding his damaged brain.
The demercriere growled at him again, but settled down realizing that he would take Kilgar’s acceptance of brain damage over his
calling their mate names. His cognate always was one of the most ornery and stubborn beings he could have ever imagined – probably why the Gods had paired them as such.
But Kilgar watched with rapt interest the conversation that scrolled across the screen this time. He smiled with male smugness as she admitted to wanting to invite him to their chambers … but, just as his mind began to dive into the gutter again with that one, the conversation got interesting.
Very interesting indeed.
Both he and his beast were intrigued – his beast immediately focusing on what a ‘nestlinger’ actually was and his brain damage on why she seemed to think her chambers were so important …
And the rest of the conversation … well, Kilgar would think about it on a full stomach.
Brain damage or not, he really was hungry.
His beast only sighed in exasperation – they could both use the nourishment.
Hondo noted that only one pier-to-station (P-S) transport was docked at the transit pier that lay ahead – either the incoming was running late or the outgoing had already departed. He glanced silently yet knowingly at Rafal who contacted the controllers for the answer.
“Shuttle Transit Controller Phantargrid, here,” the female’s voice seemed rather rough yet steady, “Please identify yo …”
Rafal cut her off.
“Prime Magistrate Rafal Sadid requesting status on inbound and outbound transits to BCDS,” his voice was in no way patient or gentle as his fingers danced across the secpad, and number/letter combinations began to stream across the main dashboard datstrip.
The female cleared her throat nervously.
“Prime Magistrate, I would respectfully request your ident with …”
“Transmitted,” Rafal’s tone was indicative of his mood – no time for delay – as he pressed send, “Check first and fourth registers.”
Another throat clearing and a much more clearly-spoken intonation from the controller this time.
“Ident confirmed. Inbound is being conditioned and cycled for next run in two hurs. Outbound departed over half an hur ago with full shuttle complement on-board and no empties, Prime Magistrate.”