Damn it, he was treating her like an invalid. She’d like to wipe that self-satisfied smirk from his face. Did all felinus look like that when their mate was pregnant? She flushed, indignant, until she saw his teasing smile.
“Is that all you require of me, my lord?” Karev asked. “I enjoyed my visit to Earth, but I long for the skies of Chizan.” He paused, his eyes narrowed. “There will be a security contingent monitoring—”
“No, there won’t, Captain.” John held up his hands. “It’s not open to debate. I’m safe here. I have the screens and friends watching over me. Trust me.”
“But, san-Duran!”
“I know you have your orders. My father is being overly protective of me. I’ll protest direct to him. Thank you for what you’ve done.” John held out his hand and inclined his head. “Now, my fe’ha tu and I want to be alone.”
“Of course. My lord. My lady.” The Captain bowed to them both.
John slid the door closed and glanced down at the cases and crates littering the floor. “That’s the worst thing about being home, unpacking’s a bitch.”
“Then, how about we leave it until later?” She held out her hand and laced her fingers in his, tugging him closer.
John smiled. “Oh yes and what do you plan for me, now?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
He tilted his head to study her. “Nothing is obvious with you, kitten-mine. I’m a dumb old cat-boy. You have to be specific and direct.”
“Like this?” Sam reached forward and unzipped his jeans. “Oh my.”
“You’ve seen me before, wife-of-mine.”
“You’re not wearing underwear.”
“Ready for action, always, you know me.”
“Only too well.”
“Ah,” John said leaning into her. “But not well enough.” He walked her backwards until she felt the sun-warmed plasti wall behind her.
John turned her around and set her hands against the glass, parting her legs with his thigh. He rubbed his body up and down against her, while his fingers teased at her dress, unlacing the shoulder straps. The bodice dropped down to her waist, while he inched her skirt higher with his knee.
“Oh my,” John whispered. “No underwear, either.”
“We’re alike, cat-boy.”
“Mm.” He licked her nape and gently bit, scrolling his tongue upward to the base of her ear. He nibbled and then bit, sucking softly.
The pressure traveled down her spine, her every nerve ending flaring to life, pulsing with tension. She moaned and drawing in a sharp breath as he bit harder, closed her eyes, concentrating on the frisson tearing through her body. This was a new loving, bringing her to arousal with his teeth at her neck. A tongue tip swept over her flesh, between bites.
“Oooh…”
“Cat got your tongue, kitten-mine?” His breath whispered over her moist skin. She shivered and turned her head, capturing his mouth in a kiss. He hitched her up against him, halted then probed and entered a fraction. The fabric of his jeans rubbed against her inner thighs as he gently moved within her, against her.
For a moment she enjoyed the contradictions of smooth skin and abrasive fabric, then a thought chilled. This was the first time he had taken her still clothed. Was it because she was skinny, scarred…?
No! John’s mind-touch denial echoed through her bones. He slid into her in one powerful thrust, possessing utterly, a devastating intrusion, chasing away the doubts and the demons. You are beautiful kitten-mine. I worship you, every imperfection is precious to me.
She laughed gently. Imperfect, am I?
Delightfully so.
Sam wriggled her hips, grinding her ass against his body.
Wife-of-mine, do that again.
She wriggled harder and he entered her, deeper, aiming to the left.
He laced his fingers through her hair, tugging back her head. He kissed her, breathing into her, as he loved her, every long slow stroke aimed to devastate.
Their gazes locked. In his golden eyes she saw the first spark of starlight, burning blue. He breathed into her and the starfire ignited in her veins.
Just a little, kitten, not convergence.
Bracing against the window, with her spread fingers, she arched back into him, clamping her inner muscles around his length, holding him.
Play with fire, kitten-mine and you’ll get burned.
What…?
In response, his felinus ridges expanded and undulated, as his body undulated against her.
Sam curled her right leg around the back of his thighs and reached behind to hold his nape as he loved her. The starlight swept through her veins and she closed her eyes.
“My name is Samantha, John-Kuno. My beloved faeth-tul-san. I exist for you, only for you. Now. Forever.”
Sam? His gentle mind-probe begged.
“I can’t converge. Not yet. Please not.”
His disappointment washed through her, swiftly quenched as he probed to the right, to the center, reaching that special place. Stars erupted behind her clenched lids as she shivered her release against him, around him…
John’s fingers stole over her body, one hand cupping her breasts, the other stroking between her thighs.
More, Kuno. More.
As you wish. He purred, then growled and aimed for annihilation.
Sam edged along the transparent gangplank, clutching at the steel rail, her confidence still lacking when it came to venturing out onto the floating walkways.
With John, she had investigated every path, kneeling over the edge to peer down into the clear water. The north gangway led to the pearl farm and she watched the fish swimming among the beds of the kilometer long reef that John had constructed for his precious molluscs.
In the far distance she could just make out the fifty or so solar-carb invertors which produced enough power for the thriving Broome community and surrounding areas. Sometimes at night she could hear the gentle whoosh-whoosh of the propellers as the breeze touched the rotars.
Their home was powered by an array of solar panels encased in the plasti-shielding and carb converters recycled all waste. It was always a shock to her to think that only two hundred years ago, humans burned fossil fuels and polluted the air, land and sea with the emissions, with the desperate need to find more fuel to feed a power-hungry world. Destroying to survive.
All that had changed with the arrival of the Voyagers and their gift of clean technology, among other gifts they bestowed that Christmas Night before the aliens departed, as swiftly as they had arrived.
But why Broome? Why Cable Beach? Of all the places on earth, why the north west of Western Australia? She had asked John that the first day of her arrival. The answer, she soon discovered, was by just looking, by just feeling, by just being one with the land. She had her answer: Broome—what better place in all the world?
Laughing at her thoughts, she retraced her steps to the house and descended into the lower level—the gold fish bowl, she called it, much to John’s amusement.
The room-sized bubble attached beneath the home gave a 360 degree panorama of the sea. In the center of the room were Chizan crystals, one hanging from the ceiling, the other attached to the floor. At first it reminded Sam of the cave on Chizan, then almost immediately that fond memory was overshadowed by the dreamscape cave, where she and warrior-Hari had sought refuge. From the moment that comparison took hold, she had avoided the bubble-room.
On the third day, when Sam heard the familiar sound of crystals chiming and the gem hanging between her breasts vibrated against her, she put aside her fear. Venturing to the top of the stairs leading to the bubble room, Sam’s crystal necklet had pulsed in time with the bigger crystals and it would not be quiet unless she descended into the room. The crystal pearl at her navel was warm against her skin, but it remained inert, unlike the pendant.
Over the course of two days, she had overcome the disorientation of the room, to sit in it daily, meditating. There she found comfort and peace and would wa
tch the fish streaking past her, or meandering, intent on their fishy business. The occasional manta ray glided past, and several dolphins would visit each day to put their snouts to the glass, as she put her palm against it.
She listened to the clicks and creaking sounds of the dolphins, lulled by the chime of the crystals, and she often slept, waking only when John came down to call her to dinner. John, she discovered, was a skilful cook whose obsession in the kitchen was surpassed only by his ardor in the bedroom.
Today, in the goldfish bowl, as she clutched her pendant in her right hand and sat cross-legged on the pile of cushions beneath the overhead crystal, she found her descent into the meditative state was quick and deep.
Images flowed smoothly in her mind. Not the haphazard, sharp pictures that brought pain and fear, but others: Harimal singing, the moments of quiet interlude with warrior-Hari. She re-lived the past, enjoying them.
Her mind cleared. Sighing, she began to return her awareness to time and space; to herself.
Without warning, her attention diverted.
The Fata Morgana tarot card swept before her mind’s eye. The card was Harimal’s favorite.
She smiled to herself, triumphant. The starlord had tried to make her forget the cards, but she had not. Another victory for her, against the monster.
The meditative veil parted and she plunged deeper. She saw the starlord. Re-lived her pain and horror, then confronted Andy—the prison Andy and husband-Andy.
She studied each, as a dispassionate observer before turning her mind’s eye to John. Memories, months old, resurfaced. Their first meeting at the Saturn Hilton. She lived each moment and as she did so, layers of anxiety fell away, as if she were shedding a skin. The memories of the past were hurtful, useless—would she cling to them and poison her present and thereby destroy the future?
Nope, the pain had to go.
When she re-emerged from her meditation, she felt lighter, more whole than she had done for weeks. The crystal necklace hanging between her breasts was warm and as she fastened her fingers around it, it pulsed. Light seared the backs of her eyes.
Kuno…
Yes, kitten-mine? Came his mind-touch response.
I love you.
His answer, a mind-smile lit up her entire being, filling the place within that he had created during mutatis. His touch was soothing, igniting, comforting.
Do you want me to come to you?
Will you come with me?
On my way.
Their loving this time was intense, but without the desperation. In its place was the quiet familiarity they had known before, the teasing. Sam found a new meridian point to torment John and she did so unmercifully. He laughed and shivered and begged for more. While her finger probed, her tongue laved. They writhed against each other, on the bed; John above, then below, the kitten dominating, the cat dominated.
Exhaustion took them and they slept.
Sam awoke, startled. For a moment disoriented, she lay on the bed, listening to the sound. Thunder rumbled in the distance and lightning flashes lit up the room.
Carefully extracting herself from John’s arms, she went to the open door and walked out onto the balcony. The lightning display was fierce, its violence utterly compelling.
From the bedroom, she heard John’s moan. Turning, she retraced her steps and stood beside the bed. Locked in sleep, he writhed against the mattress, fingers tearing at the sheet. He growled.
Then a whirl of color, a Chizan rainbow, streaked over his body and he morphed. There was a moment when man and felinus were superimposed, before the cat lay on the bed, claws rending the silk.
“Kuno…”
The cat’s ears twitched. The eyes flickered open, then closed.
Sam crawled on the bed and lay behind the cat, putting her hand over the creature’s belly. “Kuno, kitty-cat-mine.” She stroked the thick velvet fur.
Instantly the cat’s body went rigid. He growled and morphed back to man. He turned to her.
“Sammi?”
“Hush, it’s okay. Are you okay?”
“It’s the storm. It’s unsettling. I tend to get…”
“Feral?”
John smiled. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“What other way would you put it?” She lifted her brow, teasing.
“I’d put it this way.” In answer, he drew her against him and between her thighs she felt his hardness. She moved and he slid into her. Remaining still, he just possessed her, an intense joining.
“Aaah, Kuno.”
That’s my name, kitten-mine. I’m glad you haven’t forgotten.
She stroked his thigh, her nail scrolling back and forth. Beneath her, against her, inside her, he trembled.
“You feel so good, Kuno.” She closed her eyes and he nipped her lobe, kissed her cheek. “Soooo gooood. But I’m tired.”
Then go to sleep, sweetheart.
“You burn.”
I have pleasure in simply holding you, being joined with you. Sleep, my beloved wife.
She drifted off to sleep, to the sound of the thunder in the sky and the thunder in John’s heart.
* * * *
“I want to show you the reef, Sam.”
“I can’t swim.”
“I can teach you, but it’s not really necessary because I’ve got enviro-suits. You’re not gonna drown. Trust me.”
“I don’t have any bathers.”
“You don’t need them here, honey-cat.” He smirked.
“If you think I’m swimming butt naked, you’ve got another think coming.”
“Are you shy? How delightful.” His grin was pure predatory cat.
Snorting her contempt, Sam stripped to her underwear and glared at John, at his smile.
Walking to the end of the northern gangway, John picked up one of two thick black and silver belts hanging over the railing. He slipped the belt around Sam’s waist and fastened the buckle. “This is an enviro-suit, kitten. No cumbersome tanks or wet suits. It’ll enclose you in a force field with enough air for a two hour dive.”
“It’s itching, like ants crawling all over me.”
“Lucky ants.” John grinned. “That feeling’s just the suit merging with your energy field.” He pulled off his sarong, buckled the other belt around his waist and slipped into the water, holding out his hand. “C’mon, kitten.”
Bracing herself, Sam edged in a fraction at a time. The surface was warm, but her toes registered cold. Deep ocean cold. She panicked and grasped the side of the step.
John swam to her and fastened his arms around her. “Any time you get scared you send me the signal. The assassin signal of raised clasped hands—help. And we’ll go straight to the surface. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Sam gripped the step harder as fear raced through her. But in comparison to what she had faced just a few weeks gone, what could the sea do to her? Slowly, she kicked away.
John took her hand and they submerged. The enviro-suits propelled them forward, a gentle decline toward the multi-colored reef with its schools of darting, striped fish, bright coral and waving anemonae. The sight reminded Sam of a rainbow.
This reef is your handi-work, husband-mine?
Yep. Took me two years to construct and I used a Chizan crystal as the base. The steel structure was quickly adopted by the locals.
The crystals sing to them, too, huh?
John smiled at her. To any who have the spirit to hear. Most fish and even the coral respond to the crystal songs, but many humans can’t, or won’t. They avoid the area which is fine with me.
Sam studied the reef. But it’s not attached to anything…I thought it was on the sea bed.
He laughed. No, the ocean floor is hundreds of meters below us. The reef is buoyed by anti grav units.
Ingenious.
Thanks, kitten.
Hand in hand, they swam the length of the reef. Nestled among the rocks, Sam saw large oyster shells. John passed by, trailing his hand over them, singing
. In response, several molluscs opened up.
I suppose all the molluscs have names?
Of course. They’re my friends.
Sam stared at them, then at John as he carefully harvested the pearls. He smiled at her.
I don’t kill my friends for their pearls. I sing to them and they open up.
Like me.
John’s laugh rippled her mind. Yeah, kinda. He deposited more pearls in his belt pouch.
Out of the corner of her eye, Sam saw a torpedo shape bearing down on them. She turned, in a swirl of bubbles, heart hammering, fearing at very least a shark attack.
Instead, she saw a sleek, grey dolphin. The creature swam around them, nudging John with its nose. He stroked the dolphin.
This is … John made a chirping sound. The dolphin spun on its tail, mouth open, laughing.
What’s that noise?
Her name.
I couldn’t pronounce that.
In time you will. Dolphin-speak isn’t that hard.
For a felinus maybe, whose lingo is unpronounceable.
You manage felinus well enough now, kitten.
The dolphin swam past, rubbing her fluke against Sam’s leg. She touched the animal’s tail and it turned and blew bubbles at her.
She doesn’t like most humans. Says they’re too damn ugly. But you, she finds tolerable.
Sam gaped until she saw John’s grin.
With the dolphin, they swam the length of the reef, investigating every nook and cranny. At the far end, an eel shot out from a hole, its meter long body splotched brown and yellow, like geometric tattoos.
Sam reared back as the creature’s jaws opened revealing a row of very sharp-looking pointed teeth.
The eel wrapped itself around John’s waist, rubbing its formidable head against his cheek.
This is Monty, a moray eel.
The eel’s black eyes studied Sam and she waited as it swam around her.
They have poor eyesight, so let Monty taste you. No, he will sense you, not bite to taste. Let him, so he knows you.
Sam hovered in the water uncertainly as the creature swam around her, nudging her with its nose. Then it edged away, twisting around itself, performing an elaborate dance, opening its mouth wider, as if laughing.
Then, satisfied, nudging John once more, Monty disappeared into his crevice did an about turn and poked his head out.
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