Starlight Complete

by Astrid Cooper

  He was felinus. He was much more. He had called John saer-tan. Brother-mine. Who was he? Was this Taren, John’s clan-brother?

  Beautiful as only a shifter could be, and dressed in black leather from neck to toe, his aura was of dark, restrained danger. His cinnamon-colored hair, streaked with black, and threaded with beads and feathers, hung to his waist. From the outer end of each of his eyebrows a black stripe extended upwards, connecting with the black-striped hair at his temples. He had a closely-cropped beard—the first shifter she had seen with one.

  His left arm was tattooed from wrist to shoulder. In the gloom, Sam couldn’t make out the design.

  She took all this in at a glance because it was his wings that captured her attention, when she realized through the delay of her shocked senses that he had wings…

  Fur wings, striped, ginger-gold with black.

  The felinus’s gaze slanted to her. He smiled and bowed his head, holding out his palm. Sam swallowed and placed her palm to his.

  He measured her in that touch.

  As she measured him. Assassin. This felinus was an assassin. How could she know it, but she did. She swallowed again, her throat tight and dry.

  “I’m honored by your presence, Taren.” John bowed.

  “To witness the Desire for the one who told me he would never mate? To meet the woman who showed you the error of your ways, clan-brother-mine, do you think I would not be here?” His smile was electric. He flicked back his hair, in a gesture similar to Harimal, but not teasing. This guy meant business.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” John said.

  Turning, the felinus bowed to Sam, his right hand over his left breast. “You are Samantha. Be welcome. I am Taren and I am at your service.”

  Sam inclined her head. When a felinus offered service, it was never done lightly and it lasted for life.

  “Taren is a cat-wing,” John said. “I won’t try to pronounce the word, it sounds like a screech of metal against metal.”

  Taren unfurled his wings and shook them. “Only for you will I allow the discourtesy. I am not a cat-wing, but a…”

  Yeouch. Yep, John was right, but ‘screech’ didn’t do the sound justice.

  Taren lowered his wings, carefully folding them back. He studied her again and Sam held her ground as his dark gaze probed her.

  “Assassin, kitten, is not a pretty word. I prefer to be called a policeman.”

  And that said it all, Sam thought. Layers of meanings—again.

  “Sammi knows about policemen,” John said coyly.

  She sniffed disdainfully, remembering their cop and robber sex-game recently played. She cleared her throat. “I’ve never heard of winged cats. You glamor yourselves, too?”

  “When we must leave Aves and interact with strangers, yes.”

  Sam turned to John. “And this is how you learned those killing points, from…from…?”

  Taren ruffled his wings. “Please call me by name. I will not bite. Even if you beg me.”

  “Yes.” Sam felt her flush extend from her head to her toes as the two men regarded her in shocked silence. “I mean no, I don’t want you to bite me.”

  “Kuno, you have told your mate about the sarensen-zaer?” Taren lifted his dark brow.

  “Yes.”

  Sarensen-zaer? Sam struggled to interpret. The killing points…

  Taren nodded. “Appropriate. Which ones? The kitten needs her claws against you.”

  “Sam is fully armed already.”

  “You treat him mercilessly?”

  Samantha nodded. “When he begs for it.”

  Taren laughed, his face transforming as his black eyes sparked with amber. Sam stared. In another time and place, such a creature could be worshipped as a god…a winged cat-god.

  “She says I’m a sexy, naughty little beast.”

  “Yes, brother-mine, at very least.”

  “I’ve shown her a few, and she likes the ankle point the best. She has a thing about ankles.”

  Mortified, Sam blushed as the two men regarded her. Taren, curiously; John intent on mischief.

  “You will show her the heart point? The brain seizure? The other sarensen-zaer?”

  “Yes, by your leave.”

  The cat-wing snorted. “By my leave? Since when do you ask anything of me?”

  Taren bowed and moved away and Sam watched, noticing that his suit at the back was cut away, so that his wings could rest comfortably against his body.

  She turned to John. “What exactly is the sarensen-zaer?”

  “The assassin’s deadliest tool—the killing points. There are pressure places along the meridians, above certain organs which, if pressed, will kill, not immediately, but slowly, sometimes very painfully. During the wars, assassins used them, and made good their escape before any knew they had killed. Secret and deadly. Like the wielder.”

  Sam shivered, deciding that all this cloak and dagger stuff was too much for her. Time to lighten up. She took a sip of shovan.

  “Oh, man!”

  “No, oh cat!” John said leaning against the bar, his eyes glowing with delight.

  “You’ve any more surprises, Kuno-John?”

  “Was Taren a surprise?”

  “That’s an understatement.” Her senses were still reeling from the encounter. And the night had only just begun. Something niggled at the back of her mind. It took her a few moments of concentration to dredge it forth. “You told me how your mother was killed. Was she assassinated by an Aves, using the heart killing point?”

  John’s face turned ashen. “If Taren heard you say that, he’d challenge you to the death for insulting Avenor honor. And I would have to stand by and allow it, or kill him.”

  “I just thought…”

  “My mother was murdered by someone who knew the sarensen-zaer point. Taren and his clan scoured the galaxy seeking the killer. And believe me, when an assassin wants answers, he gets them, or people die. Badly.”

  “But an Avenor might have—”

  John put a finger to her lips. “No they wouldn’t, kitten. Those who know the points take blood oaths to protect the knowledge from outsiders. They’d fight to the last claw to preserve their integrity. You are one of only a few humans who have knowledge of the sarensen. The heart touch is known to only a handful and we asked them all.”

  “I don’t want you to show me any more.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m frightened by them.”

  “Good, kitten. Those who fear them are the best assassins.”

  “Assassin is not in my job description.”

  “What is?”

  Sam laughed, then her attention diverted. “Oh, God! No!”

  “What’s wrong, kitten-mine?” John’s hand gripped her arm, drawing her closer.

  “Look.”

  John followed her horrified glance and smiled, holding out his palm. In response, a purple tentacle slid over it.

  Sam flinched inwardly as the lobster-man turned a red, beady eye to her. Swallowing her fear, she lifted her palm and the tentacle caressed her flesh.

  She smelled the sea, fresh air, spices as the tentacle touched her in a warm, gentle stroke.

  “Welcome, kitten-sister. Kuno, it’s a happy day for me.”

  “Thank you, Cewertyl.” John inclined his head. “It’s a happier day for me, I assure you.”

  “I can see that. Your aura is glowing.”

  Sam snapped her gaze back to John. She saw what the crayfish was saying. Oops. She blushed at her own words.

  “I know you meant no disrespect, kitten. I am a crayfish, of sorts. Please to understand that tentacles can be so expressive, given the right circumstances and the right partner. Speaking of whom, I see that Charis wants me, so forgive me, I must take my leave.” Seven purple tentacles waved in the air around him as he scurried across the room to reach the side of the crystal winged woman—the couple Sam had seen the first night at Rendezvous. She blushed to remember.

  “Not so scared of
tentacles now, Sammi?”

  “No, he was very kind.”

  “Kind?” John laughed. “He’s a reprobate. He’d insert those tentacles anywhere, given half the chance.”

  Sam did not doubt it, knowing the proclivities of shifters. “But I want to know about Taren and the cat-wings. Does he have a mate?”

  “Yes. Why do you ask? You want to bed him?”

  Sam slapped his thigh. “No, I don’t. I just don’t see her here.”

  “You won’t. Female wings rarely leave home.”

  “Why of all the chauvinistic...macho...”

  “Kitten, you misunderstand. They remain through choice and duty. They rule their world and guard it. You think the male is the deadliest of the species? The female Avenor is more ruthless.” He grinned. “I think I should keep you from talking to Taren’s mate. She’d give you too many pointers. You know how to disarm me already.”

  “Do I?” She stroked her nail over his wrist. “I can’t imagine that I do. I’ll have to practice on you and see.”

  John groaned. “I was afraid of that. You want to practice now?” He leaned into her.

  “Oh,” Sam whispered. His hot hard length burned through her clothes. “Maybe. Just for a short time.”

  “A quickie, do you mean?” He snorted. “I never do it quickly.”

  “No, you’re slow and thorough and…”

  Devastating? Ah, I caught the word before you had time to stop yourself! His laughter rippled through her mind. Why, thank you, I try to devastate.

  Stop reading my mind!

  Well, stop broadcasting such naughty thoughts.

  Laughing, again, John took her hand and led her away.

  “But won’t you be missed? I mean you’re the reason for the party, Kuno.”

  He turned to her and brushed his cheek against hers. “We are the reason for the party, honey-cat. It takes two to tangle.”

  “Uh, yes…”

  “You’re doubtful?”

  “And what about your…the Desire thing. I mean if we give in to this, won’t it bring on that sickness again?”

  “If I deny myself, it’ll be worse.”

  “What about your legendary control?”

  He frowned. “Legendary? Who’s been talking to you?”

  Sam toyed with the fire-opal in his left lobe. “You always tell me I need more control. So, here’s a test.”

  “Like bloody hell. Sam, there’s only so much control… I can hold the Desire and channel it—maybe. Once we reach Chizan, then I’ll be able to give myself completely to the Desire and gift the mutatis to you.”

  Her mouth went dry. “You haven’t given yourself completely to me?”

  “No. I must enter the mutatis…another rite of passage. Once that’s done, then you’ll have me truly.”

  “I…I’m overwhelmed.”

  John grinned. “Not yet. But you will be, one day very soon.” He leaned into her and laughed-growled and purred as Harimal had done. Except Hari hadn’t aimed for annihilation. Sam felt her body ignite in a nano-second.

  He led her onto the holo dance floor.

  Immediately the swirling colors and the rose perfume relaxed her. Sam closed her eyes and imagined a place, a secret magical garden with rose trees trailing flower-laden canes over a tranquil lake. Hundreds of blossoms floated over the azure water, sending scents spiraling into the warm air.

  A marble temple, a blending of Egyptian and Greek architecture, stood in the distance, its surface decorated with a painting of dancing cats, one gold, the other honey-colored.

  “Ah kitten-mine, you image very well. It’s your artistic talent. Beautiful!”

  She opened her eyes and smiled, reached up and rubbed her cheek against his in the felinus touch. He purred in the back of his throat and that vibration melted her bones, melted her female core, making it flood with desire.

  John swept her up in his arms and in a blink of an eye he was within the temple, depositing her on a low couch. He tugged off her boots, her clothes peeled off in quick succession. He unlaced the bustier, swearing in exasperation.

  “Laces are well and good, kitten, but bloody impossible when your hands are shaking. You’ve turned me to mush.”

  She laughed. “Not yet, I haven’t.”

  He tipped her back onto the couch, kneeling between her splayed knees.

  “Kuno…”

  Bending forward, he lapped.

  “Kuno…”

  “That’s my name.” He nuzzled her with his tongue, probing to the left, to the right, and delved inside her, his finger finding the center point while his tongue found the right. She lifted off the couch.

  Sam laced her fingers in his hair, twisting her hips, letting him plunder her. The silence hung about them, intense, punctuated by the erotic sounds of the slap and suck of his mouth upon her. He purred against her heated flesh, then growled, then nipped. Her fingers tightened in his hair.

  “You like that, kitten-mine?”

  She rolled her head from side to side, delirious, unable to speak.

  “Cat got your tongue?” John teased and bent to his lathing with the gentlest intensity.

  “John…stop! Please.” He lifted his head and she met his gaze, saw his almost out of control look. “I want to do this to you, while you’re doing it to me. Please.”

  “You’d gift this to me?”

  “I want to love you in a thousand and one ways, Kuno. I want to taste you, cat-boy. Now.”

  He smiled and stood up, peeling off his clothes, stepped out of them to reveal his engorged, ridged sex. John lifted her to her feet and lay down on the couch, brought her over him.

  She turned, shimmied down to his erection, grasping the thick base in her right hand. She gently teased the slit with her nail and a bead of essence erupted. Slowly she curled her tongue over the head and took the pearl into her mouth.

  John’s body shivered as her tongue lathered his length.

  His hands spread her thighs and he moved, finding her honey. They loved one another in tandem. His fingers sought the nether lips, her nub, while his mouth loved her, his fingers stroked and pressed, finding those pleasure points.

  Sam took him into her mouth, as deep as she could go, then retreated, nipped up the skin that tasted of musk and felt like velvet.

  “Honey-cat?” His raw whisper vibrated into her flesh.

  “Mmmmm.”

  “Just a little to the right, closer to the base.”

  “Here?”

  “No. Lower.”

  “Here?”

  “Aiyeee.”

  Sam smiled against his turgid flesh. Hit the spot. She lapped him ruthlessly.

  Slowly, the passion built and they each struggled to contain it. Control. The word echoed between them. Nectar flowed between them—essence, the ultimate lover’s gift.

  John slid away, to lie over her, nipping her skin along the spine from neck to buttocks. Then his erection teased into her, expanding as he settled deeply. He laced his fingers with hers, holding his weight from her with his knees. He flexed inside her. Sam cramped her inner muscles, sheathing him. As he drew back, she clenched her muscles even tighter, the friction, the pressure delicious and extreme.

  John inhaled, holding his breath, then releasing it slowly. “Hold me tight and never let me go, kitten. Ah. You’re killing me.”

  She squeezed. “Be brave, pussy-cat-mine.”

  He pulled back to study her, a smile in his eyes, on his lips. Then he lowered into her and she held and flexed, their joining a seductive dance of thrust and parry.

  Sam saw stars. Her skin tingled with the ecstasy. John increased his rhythm, biting the base of her neck. Sam felt rapture, saw the lights weaving around her. Their souls merged in convergence.

  Still John moved steadily into her, flexing, expanding, heating her from inside out. She climaxed, but he did not pause, burying himself into her again and again. She caught his scent, the feral cat, male musk, starlight and danger and deepest love…


  She sang for him, My name is Samantha and I exist for you. Only for you. Now. Forever.

  He sang for her, My name is Kuno and I exist for you. Only for you. Now. Forever.

  His climax was scalding, but still he was relentless. On and on he moved upon her, in her…inexorable, inexhaustible.

  Sam clenched her lids closed. Desire. It beckoned, the next pinnacle.

  Yes.

  Her nerves were stripped raw. The pleasure became a pain.

  John waited, his mind soothing, while his body scalded.

  But only for a moment.

  There followed a languid warmth…light, oozing through her body like molasses.

  He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing a pleasure point. Sam gasped, opened her eyes and saw her skin glowing with gold, then a spiral of blue and purple and silver spread out, tattooing her skin with cobalt flames.

  John’s arms, his hands were also covered with swirling designs of pulsing starlight. He moved in time with the throbbing. She matched the rhythm and the lights converged, elevating passion.

  “It is for you My Desire I gift,” John whispered against her ear.

  “It is Your Gift I accept. Desire Me. I Desire You.”

  “Kitten-mine…” John’s voice broke as he wept. “You are my everything.”

  “You’re my world, Kuno-John. I exist only for you.”

  “I exist only for you, Samantha-Sharille.”

  She didn’t have time to think, to ask, as he moved into her again this time with short strokes, before pausing for one long thrust. He bore into her and she lifted her hips back to meet him. She danced, allowed him to enter her fully, or retreated to give him the merest fraction of her body. She turned her head to the side and his cheek rubbed against hers. Their tongues met and parried as their bodies met and parried… And the light-tattoos intensified, became webs linking them mind, body and spirit.

  When Sam opened her eyes she was lying with her cheek pressed against John’s chest. Beneath her ear she heard the steady thrum of his heart. His arms and legs were wrapped around her.

  “The kitten is finally awake.”

  “Did I fall asleep on you, Kuno?”

  He laughed. “No. You took Desire and then Convergence and almost Passion. It was too much, too soon. You overloaded.”