“Candy’s got Anrel for the rest of the afternoon’s training. I have to go out to the docks to meet with the builders. Do you need anything while I’m out and about?”
My first reaction was disappointment that he was too busy to indulge in workplace shenanigans. Then I thought maybe someone else could.
“Could you drop me off at Seot’s office? I’m about to go nose-to-the-grindstone here for a while, so maybe I can head off his complaints if he enjoys some extra attention beforehand.”
Cifa grinned. “You are learning how to handle your Dramok quite well, my Matara.”
“I’ve always been a quick study. Anrel’s got plenty of watchers?”
“Two security guards are in the room with her and Candy.”
“Not content with them just peeking in every so often?”
“I didn’t order it; Candy did. No one is snatching our child without getting through her. Somehow, I feel better about Candy protecting Anrel than all the bodyguards here at headquarters.”
I had to agree. Candy has kept up on her training, and she’s hyper-vigilant about it after the first kidnapping. If Nang dared to try to take Anrel from her, Candy would kick his ass. I have no doubts about that.
Cifa dropped me off at Seot’s company, Tesen Eknat, which in English loosely translates into ‘Preparedness and Defense’. As soon as I stepped off my Imdiko’s shuttle, the security guards there commed for an escort to accompany me to my clanmate’s office. Normally, I’d protest such strong measures within the actual company—but these are not normal times. I apologized for being an inconvenience. Everyone is super friendly at Tesen Eknat, including the Nobeks. I’d swear a kind personality is a requirement for anyone to work at the headquarters. It’s a funny trait when you realize Seot’s company manufactures arms and defensive weaponry, along with helpful gadgets such as the tracking devices implanted on Anrel and me.
All that to say the Nobeks in security practically fell over themselves to reassure me that my visit wasn’t an inconvenience to them. It’s humbling when they behave as if guaranteeing my safety is a privilege. Seriously—wow. I need to do something special for those guys. I should bake them cookies and shit.
It was still embarrassing to walk down the company corridors with a security detail surrounding me. It grew worse as a few of Seot’s employees called out, “Keep her safe, men!” Ugh. I was in no danger in Tesen Eknat’s headquarters.
I was more than relieved to arrive at Imdiko Najo’s desk. He greeted me with his usual effusive delight at my presence. “Good afternoon, Matara Shalia! What a terrific surprise. We were afraid we wouldn’t see much of you given the circumstances. Go right in.”
My four bodyguards took up position, two flanking the entrance to Najo’s area, and rest flanking the door to Seot’s office. I swear, Empress Jessica probably doesn’t enjoy this level of protection.
Seot was already at his door, his arms held out to me. “My Matara! How did I get so lucky to have you here in the middle of the day?”
“Ha! I’m the lucky one. Am I interrupting anything?”
“Nothing that won’t wait a million years if that’s what you need.”
We are so sentimental and goofy. I hope it’s not because we’re in the honeymoon period of our clanship. I want to be as disgustingly sappy fifty years down the road.
The door closed behind us, leaving us alone. Seot held me close, smiling at me. “What has given me the joy of having you come here today?”
I snuggled in his arms, my cheek against his wide chest. “Making up for my schedule in the weeks ahead when I’ll be little more than a distant memory.”
“Extra hours again?” Aw, he sounded disappointed. I’m wanted. “I should have realized that was going to happen when Cifa started worrying about the new ships and gearing up for the winter season’s promotional drive. Are you sure you don’t want to be a kept woman? Pampered at home all day, ready to dote on me when I come home at night?”
I laughed. “Except for the doting part, which I’d do full time if possible, you’ve clanned the wrong woman, big man.”
“I thought so.” His adoring smile turned suspicious. “How did you get here? Shalia, if you flew alone to visit me—”
“Settle down,” I told him, my tone as warning as his. “Cifa had errands to run. He brought me here, and your security practically smothered me walking from the bay to your office. Didn’t you notice those wonderful goons crowding Najo’s space?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. I just wasn’t certain how you found your way from Cifiler to Tesen Eknat.” He relaxed, his Dramok-ness easing down a notch. “Sorry. You wouldn’t take unnecessary chances.”
“I’ll forgive you if you give me a kiss,” I promised.
“I’ll give you a lot more than that,” he leered, his hands reaching down to cup my ass.
“In that case, you’re forgiven in perpetuity for anything else you might do wrong.”
He picked me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. A few steps, and Seot laid me on his seating area’s floor cushions, kissing me so that I was liquid and gooey with all my clothes still on. I rubbed against him wantonly as his weight settled on me.
“Mmm, I do love a midday fuck,” Seot mumbled against my lips as he tilted my hips up. My skirt slid away from my thighs and hips, allowing him to settle the hard ridge of his erections against my panty-clad mound. He rubbed, delivering a dry humping that had me straining against him.
“I never would have known you’re a fan of afternoon delights,” I muttered, moving against him, applying the most glorious friction to my eager clit.
“Let me show you. I don’t want there to be a moment of doubt.” His fingers, sliding inside the leg of my panties, searched out my slit. “Such a good girl. Always wet for her Dramok.”
My breath caught as he shoved two digits inside me. Seot has this amazing capacity to be demanding without making a big deal out of it. He takes what he wants, as if it’s his to have. Which it is, when it comes to my body. He’s welcome to every inch of me anytime he wishes.
With his fingers working in and out of me, fucking what belonged to him, my core lit with a heavy brightness. We’ve not been clanned three months, and Seot knows how to play me so that I’m ready to beg for his cocks within seconds. Even if his fingerings are sublime.
I’d worn a new top with a loose neckline today, and I’d planned to never wear it again. It was a gorgeous blouse, but I’d spent the morning fussing with it, trying not to flashing my male staff with cleavage. I’d thought I’d be returning it later this week.
Seot showed me how I appreciated the shirt. He pulled it—and one strap of my bra—down to expose a breast. Discovering the leeway the neckline had, he bared all of my chest, bunching the fabric beneath two of his favorite playthings. Talk about easy access. With my skirt hiked up and my blouse pulled down, I looked ravished, a fact that made my situation all the more exciting.
I’m keeping the blouse.
That decision was affirmed as Seot mouthed my tits, licking and nipping and sucking like a famished animal gorging at a feast. Stinging warmth suffused the mounds as he enjoyed his rough use of them. I whimpered and writhed beneath his attentions, tossed between little jabs of pain and waves of pleasure. Especially when he captured a nipple between his teeth and lashed the pebbled flesh with his tongue. Each touch shot straight to my clit, a zinging blast that left me squirming with growing violence.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Seot growled when my wriggling got too enthusiastic for his approval.
“Nowhere, my Dramok,” I gasped. “It’s just that it feels so wonderful.”
“Does it? Does my girl want it rough?”
“I’ll take it however you want me to take it.”
Seot’s grin was more like a snarl, raising the hairs on my body. He pulled his talented fingers from my pussy and licked them clean before grabbing my wrists and pinning them over my head. Holding me down, he gave my breast a smack. It
stung, but I knew how careful he was being. Just enough hurt to excite me.
“I like that. Do you like it?” he demanded.
“Yes, my Dramok.” Hell yes.
He slapped my pussy. I cried out, kicking at the air—but I was careful to not try and shield myself from any further swats he might determine I needed.
“I like that too. And I like shoving my cocks in your pussy,” Seot told me. “Both of them. At the same time.”
Oh, sweet prophets. The surge of excitement that hit me stole my breath. I suddenly remembered how to lie still.
My Dramok gripped both shafts, moving them to my womanhood. His purple gaze held me as securely pinned as the hand on my wrists. “That’s right. Keep that gorgeous cunt open for me. Here I come for you, ready or not.”
Mentally, I’m always ready for what Seot chooses to do. Physically—well, that was a lot of man to accept all at once. Despite the whole ‘lord and master and Dramok’ vibe my clanmate had going, he was careful. I never doubted for a second that even with the rougher play, he’d take care of me.
God, I love him.
He pressed into me, claiming me a little at a time. I ached, but in the manner I enjoy. He watched carefully, intuiting when to stop and let me adjust. For my part, I relaxed as much as I could to accept his doubled girth. When his cocks jerked with each whimper, I did so more often.
“Take it,” he whispered, his breath coming faster, his pupils enlarging. “That pussy needs all of me inside it.”
When he was far enough in so that there was no worry of him slipping out, he released himself. He had me lick the slickness from his palm, feeding me the spicy musk of his lubrication. I sucked each finger as if it were a cock, claiming every drop I could. I adore the taste of my clan leader.
When I’d cleaned his hand, he circled my throat with it. Again, it was all about the enjoyment of the power play, no actual threat. The illusion of being ravished, perhaps against my will, made my pussy spasm around his encroaching cocks.
Seot grinned at my excitement. “That’s it. I’m fucking you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
He got another convulsion for that. Evil, wonderful man.
He was more wonderful when all that astounding girth rubbed up against my hotspot. I came up off those cushions. All that Kalquorian weight wasn’t enough to stop me from arching away from the ground. The blast that shot through me tried to rocket me straight up into the cosmos. Vivid, dazzling rapture, exploding in my guts. And it didn’t stop. No, not with Seot pressing deeper, claiming me inch by marvelous inch. Sweet and holy prophets, I worried I might faint from the radiant bliss beaming through my very being. It might have been an orgasm. I don’t know—it was so intense, so blinding, it must have been one. Yet it went on without pause and felt so much more. Maybe how the ecstatic oneness with the Almighty must have been to the saints.
Ha! As if I’d ever be mistaken for a saint.
It was maybe the most incredible joining I’ve had with anyone. My consciousness felt as if it was expanding, encompassing all of creation. It did not stop…not while Seot fucked me.
The rest of our lovemaking was this crazy exaltation, this out-of-control rapture that seems detailed and misty all at once. I could tell you how Seot’s nostrils flared with each breath, how his eyelids fluttered as he took me, how his lips trembled as he closed in on climax. I swear I remember the exact nuance of pressure of his hand pinning my wrists to the cushions over my head—I bet I could count the threads in that cushion simply by the sharpness of my memory of those moments. Though his other hand on my throat did not press, I could trace the whorls of his fingerprints through the nuance of touch. His weight on my hips, sliding back and forth. And the bursting pressure of his cocks, his wonderful and astounding cocks, crowded tight in my pussy, holding me in that astonishing thrall.
None of it compared to watching Seot’s face soften as his head fell back and he cried out the joy of release. In my state of heightened awareness, I swear I experienced his orgasm with him. I realized the tightness of his secondary cock as it filled with blazing heat. I knew the lightning strike of the instant of climax, Seot’s seed firing into his primary with almost painful elation as my passage clutched him in wet softness. I knew the violently sweet jolts of his passion jetting from him in stomach-clenching fury, gushing into me, his adoring Matara. We called out each other’s names with one voice.
I know it was only my imagination, but I love the idea that maybe, just maybe, I shared a wondrous moment of telepathy. If I could share a smidgeon of Seot’s experience, I’d be thrilled. He is a part of my soul.
March 25
It happened. I saw Nang. He is on Kalquor. He is stalking me.
Because I’m being so careful, I was thankfully not alone. I was surrounded by people who could keep me safe though I was not at home, at the office, or with any of my clanmates. I was at the Cifiler docks with my vid production crew and a couple of the Nobeks from the company’s security department.
We’d decided we deserved some air and inspiration for the upcoming winter marketing schedule, so we loaded ourselves up in a company shuttle and flew out to the pier. Soaking in the holiday atmosphere would give us a boost of motivation.
I was reminded of when I’d gone on the inaugural cruise of the smallest ship of the fleet. The cruise hadn’t ended quite the way any of my clan had envisioned, but it had started off magnificently. I felt wonderful as I wandered with my staff along the lineup of ships in port, either disgorging happy and relaxed passengers, taking excited vacationers on, or being cleaned and readied between trips. Music and laughter filled the air, against a background of humming hovercarts, which zoomed about with luggage, provisions, and mechanical parts. The air of celebration was so effusive that I wanted to convince my clan to cruise again. There is no greater energy than that of anticipation and satisfaction, and it was there in plenty this morning.
It was exactly what my team needed. Ideas came fast and furious as we watched the fun. We were all on the same page, which never ceases to launch new creativity. No sooner did I have an idea, then one of my team would say it out loud.
“Open with dreary, mundane work scene, cast in muted colors. Ask the viewers if life is tedious, monotonous. Then, boom! Colors, music, brightness!”
“A clan dragging themselves off to work in a shuttle. They fly over this scene, look at each other, and agree without a word. They’re out of here!”
“Matara Shalia, your people celebrate some festive holiday in the winter, don’t they? What about a spot featuring a clan with an Earther Matara boarding a ship to commemorate that occasion?”
I greeted Dramok Iknu’s suggestion with wide-eyed delight. “Iknu, not just a commemoration! An actual Christmas cruise! Is it too late to pull something like that together? Tarl, make a note for me to talk to Cifa, asap.”
My Imdiko aide grinned and lifted his handheld. “Already have it, along with everything else. Keep talking, team.”
They did, the suggestions coming faster and faster. I was laughing with the others, giddy with our inventiveness, when I saw him over Iknu’s shoulder. A fleeting glimpse of Nang, as the constant eddies of voyagers and ship’s crews between us parted for an instant.
For a moment, it was as if I’d materialized back on Earth. It was me boarding the transport all over again, leaving my home planet for the last time. And in the distance, a man almost as tall but not as broad as Dr. Flencik. Standing as he had on that long-ago day, watching me flee my ravaged, dying world and him, as well.
Except not quite. Where Nang had watched me with a sense of loss as I departed Earth, appearing forgotten and alone, he now stared at me with determination. A smile curled his lips, as if he’d won a victory.
I stood frozen, unable to move. I couldn’t scream as Nang and I stared at each other. He was the same and yet not the same as I’d left him. The determined gaze that could denote security or threat had not changed. The set jaw, square and matching the rest
of his rugged face. The scar on his chin—had I ever asked him where it came from? If I had, I couldn’t remember the answer.
His jet-black hair had a sheen to it that had been missing before. A silvery shine in the sun, the first hint of gray. His eyes were hollowed, the shadows deep pools beneath them. More creases on his forehead and bracketing the corners of his lips. Thinner, honed to muscle and sinew by deprivation. Yet with the changes, there was no doubt it was Nang. I knew him though I had no more than two seconds to identify him.
A group of people passed, blocking my view. At the same instant, Tarl noted something was up. “Matara Shalia? Is something wrong?”
Shalia's Diary Omnibus Page 237