“You are Shareem. You say that because that is how they train you.”
“I didn’t learn that growing up at DNAmo. What I know I learned from surviving. I’ve learned to listen to my body, but not let it dictate my life.” At least, not until now, the voice mocked. “But if I’d tried to separate my thoughts from my body, I’d be dead.”
She looked puzzled. “You grew up there? But DNAmo went out of business twenty years ago.”
“Shareem age slowly,” Rees explained. Especially R294E8S. That had been one of the experiments, to expand his life, slow down the aging process, even more than on most Shareem.
Her eyes filled with curiosity. She opened her mouth to ask more, but suddenly the pressure in the house changed.
The morning sunshine vanished, blotted out by a thick yellow cloud that struck the house full force.
For a moment, Rees felt like someone was pressing an invisible weight on the top of his head. Then the fields protecting the house adjusted to the change in air pressure, and the feeling went away.
“Sandstorm,” Talan said worriedly. “It was not supposed to hit until this afternoon.”
Rees marveled at the calm way the household took the arrival of the deadly storm. Down in Pas City, where Rio lived and Judith had her bar, they would shut down all the doors, sit against the walls, and wrap cloths over their faces until the storm passed.
Everyone let anyone in off the streets when a sandstorm hit. It was an unwritten rule.
Here, the house went on as usual. The slight pressure change was the only acknowledgement that a deadly storm raged outside.
Talan, a worried look on her face, rose from the table and pressed a button to call Metri. He scuttled in after only a few moments.
“Lady Petronella is out,” she said. “Is she all right?”
Metri nodded, making a reassuring gesture. “She is at the house of Lady Mira. She called not five minutes ago to tell me. She is fine.”
Talan looked relieved and dismissed the majordomo.
She cared, Rees realized. Lady Pet was an odd sort of woman to be Talan’s guardian, and their thinking was at odds, but Talan cared for her. So much so, that her first thought upon beholding the sandstorm was concern for Lady Pet’s safety.
He wondered what it would feel like to have her concerned for him.
This was getting out of hand.
He snatched up the bowls of cream and golden fruit. “Time for lessons, Talan,” he said, then walked away from her and back to the garden.
Chapter Five
Talan followed him into the garden, her intellect losing the battle to her curiosity.
The sandstorm thrashed and grated against the field far above, but it could not penetrate the force screen. The screen was powered by a class five generator, the best made. So while the storm raged in the streets, this garden remained cool and peaceful.
Talan felt anything but peaceful. He’d angered her with his dismissal of her philosophy, but she should feel sorry for him, really.
It was not his fault that his genes had been manipulated, his DNA code changed so that he could never achieve the philosophical freedom that she could. He would be forever tied to his body. She should feel superior.
Instead, she wanted to run after him and apologize for arguing. She had the most absurd urge to please him.
Lady Pet would scoff that Talan had an absurd urge to please everyone, but this was different. Talan pleased others because it was her duty, because she wanted to show that she had manners.
She wanted to please Rees because she wanted to. She wanted him to look at her with that sparkle in his blue eyes and tell her he liked her pleasing him.
She knew he’d been made to make her want to please him. She had read all about DNAmo and the Shareem after she’d found Lady Ursula’s diary. She had learned disturbing things.
A Shareem could modulate his voice to the most pleasing pitch to a woman’s ears. Rees could taste her pheromones on the air, he could project his own to excite her, or project endorphins to make her feel relaxed and soothed.
He could not actually force her to feel anything she did not want to, but he could manipulate conditions so that she’d most likely feel what he wanted.
This was how Shareem had serviced their decadent women in the past. They’d been created to please, but the women had begun to want more than simple pleasure.
They’d grown bored and made their Shareem into more and more wicked creatures, willing and ready to do anything to extend the game of desire.
The things Talan had read about the level three Shareem had shocked her. Rees, she thought after what they’d done yesterday, must be level two.
Even level twos had been shocking, but level threes had gone into the realm of things she’d never known existed.
When DNAmo had closed and departed, people talked about what to do with the Shareem. Some had argued that they weren’t truly human. They did not have parents—they’d been grown in a jar filled with the best DNA available.
A contingent had wanted to kill them. Not in a brutal way, they’d said hastily. Give them injections that would kill them instantly and cremate the bodies. End of problem.
But many stockholders, already upset at their declining returns, had thought that too inhumane. The vote had been close, but the Shareem had been allowed to live—if they agreed to follow stringent rules and stay away from decent society, of course.
And Talan had brought one into her house.
Rees stared at the sandstorm high above them. “Does the field ever break?” he asked.
Talan shook her head. “Lady Pet keeps everything in good repair.”
He continued to stare upward, the muscles of his neck tight. “Oh well, danger always adds spice.”
A vicious sandstorm could strip a woman’s flesh from her bones. The bursts of wind sent rock and sand against buildings and humans like a grinding machine. It would kill a person not protected by thick clothing and a breath mask.
Talan had never been anything but safe from the storms. The storm watchers always gave fair warning, and it was a rare person who got caught in them. Today, however, it had blown in unexpectedly early.
“What are we going to do?” she asked Rees.
He set the bowls of fruit and cream on a wooden table next to a garden bench. “Tell Metri and the rest of your staff to stay away.”
Talan pressed a keypad outside the door. All the windows and the glass wall of the dining room went dark. “They will only come if I call.”
“Well, you might be screaming pretty loud.” He winked. “At least, I hope so.”
A shiver went down her spine. How could he make what should be frightening seem so desirable?
Because he’s trained to, she reminded herself. That voice makes you want to do anything he says.
Rees stripped off his robe. Beneath it, he wore a sleeveless linen tunic. His hard body filled it out, and the black chain around his biceps gleamed.
He lifted a piece of bright orange fruit in his fingers. “What is this?”
“Mango.”
He dipped it into the bowl of cream. “It’s good. Come here.”
She went to him slowly, her heart beating hard. “Yes, teacher.”
He gave her a hot look. “That was yesterday’s game. Today, we will play something different.”
“What will we play?”
“Do not ask so many questions. Or I will paddle you.”
And why did her heart race every time he said that? She really needed to read more philosophy.
He held out the fruit to her. She reached for it.
He pulled it away. “Just eat it.”
She understood. She leaned down and closed her lips over it.
He pressed the fruit into her mouth. The sweet juices spurted as she bit down.
“Mmm,” she said. He slowly wiped his thumb across her lips, then he raised it to his own mouth and licked the leftover cream from it.
She silently chewed
and swallowed the fruit.
His eyes went dark. He took her face between his hands and kissed her.
His mouth was warm, his lips strong. His tongue delved into her, stroking her. She slid her arms around his neck. This was what Lady Ursula had done with her Shareem. Woven tongues together and embraced in warmth.
She’d envied them.
She traced her fingers over Rees’ back, loving every muscle, every strong sinew. His hands slid to her bottom, pulled her tight against him.
She moved her hips, wanting him to touch the hot ache of her clit. So far, only she had touched herself, he’d scarcely put his hands on her.
He kissed her cheekbone, traced her jaw with his tongue.
“Rees,” she whispered.
He went on licking her, wetting her face, his tongue hot and possessive.
“Rees, I want you.”
He licked his way down her throat. He began to bite then, sharp nips of her flesh. He shoved her hair out of his way, bit her neck, sucked, like a vampire. It hurt, and it was darkly erotic, and she loved it.
He kissed and bit across her shoulder. He hadn’t asked her to take off her clothes. Had told her to stop asking questions.
“What do you want me to do?” she whispered. “I want to please you.”
He bit her, hard. She gasped. He lifted his head. His eyes glittered, the blue filling the white. “I please you. That is why you brought me here.”
She shook her head, feeling half-drunk. “You pleased me, yesterday. I want to please you, today.”
Maybe he wanted her to play. He was a level two, maybe he wanted her to play a game. “What do you want me to do?” she whispered.
His eyes went hot. He put heavy hands on her shoulders. “Get on your knees.”
Her legs went weak, and she shivered with excitement.
She found it easy to kneel before him. She saw the outline of his cock behind his tunic, right at her eye level. She licked her lips. She liked this game.
He lifted his tunic. His cock sprang out, big and hard and long. She liked looking at it. She could kneel here all afternoon and stare at it and be perfectly happy.
“Kiss it,” he said.
She drew in a harsh breath. She fast approached realms she did not understand.
“Kiss it,” he repeated. “Do what I say.”
Talan leaned forward, pressed a kiss on the smooth, engorged head right in front of her.
His skin was smooth and so warm. It felt good to her lips and tasted salty. She kissed it twice more for good measure.
A bead of moisture welled up from the tiny slit in its center. She licked it off.
He tensed, the muscles of his thighs and abdomen tightening. “Gods, Talan.”
“Is that what you want?”
He reached over to the table, came up with a handful of cream. He plopped it right onto his cock. “Suck it clean.”
Talan smiled. She leaned forward again, licked a dab of cream from the tip.
His voice became harsh. “No, don’t lick it. Suck it.”
Talan screwed up her courage, opened her mouth, and wrapped her lips around the end of his cock.
It jumped in her mouth. She took the cream onto her tongue, swallowed. She sucked more. Another inch went inside. She kept sucking, tasting the tang of him and the mellowness of the cream. She nipped him, like he had done to her neck. He let out a groan.
Did I hurt you? she wanted to ask. But his hand went to her shoulder, gripped it fiercely. “That’s it, Talan. Suck me, baby. Suck me hard.”
She sucked. She wiped her tongue all over his head, tasting the difference between the smooth tip, the flange, the shaft.
She sucked some more, her lips hurting from stretching so far. But she did not want to stop.
He threaded his fingers through her hair, twisting it. “Gods, that’s good.”
She blindly touched the base of his shaft. Her hand met coarse, curled hair and scalding hot skin. He jumped.
“I’m going to come,” he said hoarsely, his Shareem voice broken. “And you are going to swallow me down, Talan.”
She was not certain what he meant. His hips moved, his hands in her hair tightened.
And then she felt her mouth fill with hot, salty liquid, burning her tongue and the back of her throat.
She jerked away in surprise. His hands shoved her back onto his cock, forcing her to take it, to let him fill her mouth.
“Swallow it, baby. Swallow it for me.”
She drew back slowly, taking the liquid into her mouth, wrapping her tongue around the tip to get every drop. She swallowed it down, burning and hot all the way to her belly.
She looked up, licking her lips. “Was that right?”
He grabbed her shoulders and dragged her to her feet. He plunged his tongue inside her mouth, tasting himself on her tongue. He held her so tight, she could barely breathe. His cock, hardly less rigid than before, ground into her belly.
She twined her arms around him, reveling in how much he wanted her.
He seized her face between his palms. “I want to fuck you, baby. I want to fuck you and fuck you. I want to fill you full of me, then I want to put my come deep inside you. Do you understand me?”
“Yes.” She wanted it too, so bad. A dim part of her knew he’d cast his Shareem spell on her, that she should not want this, but she told the dim part of her mind to go out and play in the sandstorm.
“I want to turn you over and come in your ass. The ass that I’ve paddled until it’s red. Do you still understand me?”
“Yes.”
His grip tightened. “I want you to beg for it. I want you to beg me to fuck you.”
Her mouth was so dry, she couldn’t form words. His eyes went dark, dangerous. “Beg me, Talan. Or I’ll take your ass without preparing you, and that will hurt.”
She gulped. “Please, Rees.”
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me. Please fuck me, Rees.”
“Beg me to fuck your sweet ass.”
“Yes. Please, Rees, fuck my ass.”
He stared at her, eyes boring into hers, a madness there she’d never seen in him before. The game had gone away, and she began to feel, through whatever he projected over her, a twinge of fear.
“You’re a bad girl, Talan.”
“I know. Please punish me. Please fuck me.”
He drew a long, long breath. His hands on her face softened, the hard grip loosening.
“Gods, Talan,” he whispered. “You’re not ready. I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”
“I want you to. It would be a good hurt. I want you to hurt me good.”
He shook his head, his face against hers. “No, love. You’re just feeling what I want you to feel. What I’m trained to make you feel.”
“No,” she whimpered.
“I’m afraid so, baby.”
He gathered her close. She rested her head on his shoulder, his warmth soothing her. She shook all over, clutching at his tunic, which he hadn’t taken off. Tears leaked from her eyes.
He was shaking, too. He, the trained Shareem, breathed fast, his heart pounding.
She did not understand what she was thinking, could not separate what she really felt with what he’d made her feel. “I want you, Rees.”
“No, Talan. You’re not ready.”
She raised her head. His jaw was hard, sandpaper rough. “How do you know?”
“Because I am Shareem. I know when a woman’s body is ready for what she desires and when it is too soon.”
“When will I be ready? I want to be ready now.”
He laughed softly, his velvet voice returning. “Not long.”
She put her lips to his ear. “My cunt is all wet, Rees.”
His laugh turned wicked. “I just bet it is.”
“What do you want me to do? Do you want me to touch myself while you watch?”
“Hmm, that would be nice. But I have another idea.”
He lifted the bowl of cream fro
m the table. She smiled, her pulse still racing.
She was calming from the madness of a few minutes ago, when she’d wanted nothing more than for him to push her facedown onto the bench and shove his cock deep inside her. She’d wanted to take it and cram it in herself.
But the look on his face, the cream in his hands, started to be just as exciting.
“Sit on the bench,” he said. “And spread your legs.”
She started to comply. But just then, a tearing sound came from overhead, and in the next instant, the canopy faltered and the winds of the sandstorm came screaming in.
Talan gaped, and found her mouth and nose full of sand. The bowl of cream shattered to the floor.
She clutched at Rees. They needed to get into the house. She must lead him there, or he would die.
She could not find him in the yellow-brown mass. One moment he’d been standing next to her, the next, he was gone. She groped for him.
Suddenly a strong arm wrapped around her waist, lifted her from her feet. Rees took two steps, three, and then they were falling in through the open windows of the parlor.
Rees disentangled himself from her and slammed his hand against the window’s panel.
The window sealed. Sand that had swirled in with them rained to the white carpet, then all was still.
The sandstorm, furious, beat at the windows, but could not get in.
Rees leaned against the wall, panting. Talan crawled up onto the sofa and lay there, shaken.
Metri and two footmen came scuttling into the room, eyes wide. “Are you all right?” Metri exclaimed.
“Fine,” Talan croaked. “Rees got us out in time.”
“But the garden is ruined,” Rees said. He sounded morose. “That beautiful garden.”
Metri looked at Rees as though reassessing him. “Lady Pet will have the garden repaired. But the two of you look awful. I suggest a bath.”
Rees shot Talan a look. She knew she had sand all over her and must look a mess. Rees’ hair had gone a shade darker, and sand had collected in the hollows under his eyes.
“A bath,” he said, his voice still hoarse. “Good idea.” He held out his hand. “Talan?”
And she, under Metri’s stunned gaze, took Rees’ hand and let him lead her out of the room.
Tales of the Shareem: Tales of the Shareem: Rees Page 5