by Alana Khan
“This place is magic, Ar’Tok.”
He doesn’t tear his gaze from mine as he nods. “You’re all the magic I need, Star.”
He rocks me as he kisses the top of my head.
“You deserve so much, Star. You deserve to see everything you’ve only read about. You deserve to do everything on your bucket list. Would it be too presumptuous of me to want to be there with you when you do?”
I twist in his lap, my bad leg comfortably supported by the statue’s flowing kimono, and press my palms to his cheeks. “What fun would it be without you, my love? And who would rescue me when I fall through lava tubes or try to breathe without oxygen?”
“Do you want to stay on the Misfit? We could get it up and running again and—”
“Twenty-one years on that bucket of bolts is enough. I think it will be wonderful to start a new life together. I think we both stumbled into heaven. We have new friends, we’ll be able to travel the galaxy together, we both have jobs we like . . . you do like comms, right?”
“Yes. It’s fun, and besides, that’s how I found you.”
“Well, no more flirting with strange females, right?”
“I don’t find you that strange,” he jokes.
“I love this face,” I stroke his cheek with one knuckle. “I especially love it when you smile.”
His smile broadens and I tip my head back so he can kiss me. His lips are warm as he sighs into my mouth.
“Take a few more deep breaths, love, because I’m going to get you back to our room and see if there are other things you love about me besides my smile.”
Wiggling, I feel his hard cock pressing against my bottom. “Hurry!”
He sets me back in the hover-chair, tucks the lap blanket around me, and takes off at a run.
“Goodbye, scented garden,” he calls as he runs over the grassy path.
“Goodbye, turquoise trees,” I say as I wave.
“Goodbye, calling birds,” he says as he slows a bit when we emerge through the wooden arbor gate.
He keeps a good pace, though, as we scurry through the grand foyer with its high, domed ceiling, purple and gold decorations, and gawking patrons. They have to know we’re running to our room to make love. I smile as I realize I don’t care.
As bold as I felt on our wild run through the hotel, I feel shy now that we’re here and the door is closed.
“I’m going to give you pleasure until you order me to stop,” he says, his tone so low and gravelly I wouldn’t know it was him if I wasn’t looking.
“You’ll get no complaints from me.”
He kneels in front of me and gently pulls my shirt over my head. My bra joins it on the floor moments later. When he stands between my legs to shimmy my pants off, I wish he’d taken his clothes off first. If he had, his cock would be within my grasp. Flashes of the exciting things I’d like to do to it fly through my mind.
He’s careful not to hurt my leg, which is feeling no pain thanks to Dr. Drayke’s medical magic. Before I know it, I’m naked in the middle of the bed, waiting for him to join me.
He pulls off his blue t-shirt, then stops to look me up and down. My mouth dries as I inspect him. Every time I see him naked I notice something different. Today, I’m drawn by the perfectly sculpted steel muscles lying under his pale skin. Then I notice the red lines that mark his abuse.
I shake my head as if I can shake those thoughts out of my mind. Every one of those scars made him the male he is today—the male I love. I love every line that brands him.
This isn’t the shy Ar’Tok I met less than two weeks ago, the male who expected me to run from him at every turn. This Ar’Tok stands proudly, his hands on his waistband and a small smile playing at his lips.
His hips begin to sway as if he’s dancing to music only he can hear. My teeth gnaw on my bottom lip to keep from ordering him to remove his clothes and join me in this bed. His long, strong fingers play at his waistband as he sways to the nonexistent music.
“Stop teasing me,” I order. I can’t wait another second to feel those hands on me. He just shakes his head slowly, a silent scolding, and keeps dancing. His movements are more flagrant now. More sexual as his hips change direction.
Instead of beckoning me from side to side, he’s thrusting now, driving his cock toward me in rhythm with his mind’s imaginings.
“You’re a bad male,” I grumble, noticing the needy desperation between my legs. I feel my pulse pounding there.
He turns away from me and resumes the side-to-side motion. If my leg wasn’t broken, I would bound off the bed and yank his pants off to see what the muscles in his fine ass look like as he dances for me.
“Nice males don’t tease their females like this,” I scold.
“You might think I’m not nice now, Star,” he says to the far wall, “but by the time we’re done today you’ll change your mind.”
“Come change my mind.” I pat the bed, unable to hide my pout.
He turns in slow increments, allowing me to admire the perfection of his form from every angle, then pulls his pants off and steps out of them.
“You’re wicked sexy, Ar’Tok. I’m going to take up photography just to capture you like this.”
A sensuous smile slashes across his face as he dances to the foot of the bed, then kneels between my feet. He begins moving his way up my leg, first with nibbling lips, then nipping teeth, then swiping wide swathes with the flat of his tongue.
Taking care not to hurt my right thigh, his huge hands open me wider as he awakens every nerve ending up the runway of my left leg. Every highway has a terminus, and I know right where I want that tongue to stop.
“I’m dripping wet for you,” I whisper.
“I see,” he replies, although he barely turns his attention from the task of lighting me on fire. His head is scarcely above my knee when I feel his fingers whispering against my outer lips. They’re so slim and gentle, I soon realize it’s his cirr.
Lifting my head off the pillow, I see the army of cirr are attacking me. They’re sliding along the inside of my upper thighs, some of the long, thick ones are gripping right at the crease where my leg meets my torso. They’re gently pressing me apart, opening me wider. They’re acting in unison: caressing, exploring, stoking my fire.
“Holy shit, Ar’Tok.” I want to say more. I want to tell him this is the sexiest feeling a woman could imagine. For a moment I wonder if I should tell him to stop—it’s too overwhelming to tolerate. But no, I’m not going to ask him to stop. I’ll never ask him to stop.
He nips his way up my inner thigh as his co-conspirators, especially the thin, facile cirr, stroke my most intimate spaces. They trace the edges of my lips, flick my clit with exquisite erotic movements, then invade me.
Ar’Tok is purring; his chest rumbling against my leg. I can feel the vibrations migrate up my flesh and lodge at the apex of my thighs.
I thought my reward would come when he laid his exquisite mouth on me, but his cirr are doing a fine job as they braid themselves into a thicker strand and press into me, mimicking the rhythm Ar’Tok’s hips were dancing to only minutes ago.
“Too good!” I tell him as two cirr pluck my clit and the thick braid thrusts into me in a delicious rhythm. Ar’Tok’s breath drifts across my skin. His face is inches away from my core as he watches, allowing his cirr to force me over the edge.
He grabs my hip bones, pressing me back into the bed as I buck against him in bliss, calling his name over and over.
Before I have a chance to catch my breath, his marauding cirr attack again, bringing me to the peak of pleasure almost immediately. My orgasm crashes over me in bigger swells than last time, and then the buildup begins again.
Wave after wave of pleasure surge over me as his cirr pluck and invade and thrust and tease and force me into ecstasy time after time.
My thigh and belly muscles are quivering, my throat is dry and raw from screaming in satisfaction. I’m contemplating begging for mercy when Ar’Tok rolls m
e onto my good leg. He jumps off the bed, gathers every pillow in the room, and gently bends my right leg and places it on top of the pile.
After sliding behind me and spooning, I feel his thick cock sliding through my drenched nether lips.
“How’s your leg?” his deep voice rumbles in my ear.
“It’s not my leg that’s killing me right now. Fuck me, Ar’Tok.”
His shaft is covered in my juices as he slides against me, ramping every cell in my body even higher. I wonder if I’ll die if he doesn’t penetrate me soon.
And then he slides into me in one swift movement, filling and completing me in a way his cirr could never do. No, this, this joining of flesh, is what I crave.
His hand reaches around me, brushes my aching clit as he pounds into me, and brings me to fulfillment twice before I hear his guttural groan of contentment.
“Leg okay?” he asks as he pulls the covers over us, then kisses everywhere his lips can reach. His cirr get in on the act, combing through my hair, patting my cheeks, and stroking my neck and shoulders.
The deep rumble in his chest has changed timbre. It’s lower, deeper. I’m getting to know his moods. His in-the-middle-of-sex purr is at a higher, faster rate than his happy-to-be-hugging-you purr.
“Give me a moment, love. I’ll be back at it in no time,” he says.
“More? Can we . . . take a break?”
“I told you I wouldn’t stop until you ordered me to, my love. Is that an order?”
I playfully poke him with my elbow, then snuggle closer, wiggling my tush until he’s flush against me.
“But . . .” I admit, “we could totally do this again later, right?”
He chuckles, kisses my neck with a loud smack, and falls asleep without further ado.
Ar’Tok
My cirr were just hair until I met Star, then they grew a mind of their own and started showing her affection well before I found the nerve to do so. I never dreamed they’d inject themselves into our lovemaking, but I didn’t hear Star protesting.
Star’s alone in the bathroom after I helped her with her shower. I’ve packed everything in the room. We’ll bring it with us to the warehouse, then the whole group will pick us up in a hover-bus and we’ll fly to the Fool’s Errand.
Even though I have faith in Star and am sure her programs have worked well, I still feel a bolt of fear slice up my spine as I wonder what Ergonn will do if her bots haven’t performed properly.
I’m wearing my black kilt; my sword swings at my hip. A week ago I felt inadequate, like I couldn’t protect my female. But I got her down Mount Kimanji and I know if there’s a battle tonight I will fight to the death to keep her safe.
She steps out of the bathroom wearing a pretty purple dress she borrowed from Willa. She grabbed the golden bow from the present I gave her and attached it over her right shoulder. It’s a sweet nod to both me and Blessed Peace Day.
“I’ve never seen you in a dress, Star.” She takes my breath away. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my hands off you tonight.”
She rewards me with a broad smile. It seems she loves my compliments. Good. I could sing her praises all day long.
“And look at you, my handsome guard.”
She hobbles to me, the aircast helping her keep her weight off her right leg. Pulling me to her, she admires us both in the mirror.
At first, I see only my flaws—jagged red stripes covering white flesh. I look all wrong for a Simkin. But I focus on my beautiful Star’s face. She’s not seeing any of that. She couldn’t be, because she’s beaming.
“Look at us, Ar’Tok. Light and dark.”
Her skin is tawny, mine is pale. Her hair is black and brushed to a shine, mine is thick white cirr. We’re different as night and day—and together we’re beautiful.
“Somehow we belong together,” I tell her, and I believe it.
Star, me, and her three other guards hover to the warehouse, Shadow glides us in before the door is open all the way. I lift Star into the stark room and deposit her on the chair in front of the Hardimon computer. Ergonn is here, concealed behind his guard.
Star’s competent fingers pull up the correct program, and her face is tight as her eyes scan the screen. She nods, still serious.
“It’s done. It’s perfect,” she announces, her eyes still scrutinizing her work.
Ergonn, his deeply-lined face skeptical, shuffles over on his squat legs.
“Show me,” he demands.
Star points at the dots, now all green, blinking like little round sentinels. “These indicate every possible way into your computer network system. The dots are like palace guards at the gate, they won’t admit anything with a Federation identifier.
“I have a feeling you have a few contacts inside the Federation,” she says half as a question, half as a statement.
“Perhaps.”
“Why don’t you see if one of them can hack into your system?” She cocks an eyebrow.
Ten minimas later, he nods at her and says, “It just went live.”
She points to the screen, and all the dots keep blinking green.
“All systems go,” she says as she cocks her head. “That’s our cue to leave. I wish I could say it was a pleasure doing business with you.”
Myself and every gladiator in the room stiffen. Why would she insult the head of the cartel at this point in the endeavor?
“You didn’t find this process pleasant?” he asks, his head cocked in confusion.
“Worrying that you were going to kill us all because I was five minutes late after almost dying? Not pleasant.” She spears his gaze with hers.
“Rules are rules,” he says, as if that explains everything.
“Sometimes you have to take emergencies into account,” she replies levelly.
I glance at all my male comrades. Zar’s mouth full of sharp teeth is hanging open. Dax’s green eyes are wide and his back is stiff as a tree trunk. Little Star doesn’t seem fearful in the least.
“My apologies then,” he says sincerely. “I thought this went splendidly and I look forward to doing business in the future. Since I’ve offended you in some way, I’ll even throw in payment for the alcohol drunk on Fornication Island. My accountant informs me the cost is prodigious.”
“I think my days of working planetside are over. I’d be happy to help you remotely, just as my father did for several decades.”
“I knew you weren’t the original ‘O’,” he says. “Perhaps you’re even better.” His face approximates a smile—it looks like it took great effort.
“Comm me anytime,” Star says as she rises, then hobbles over to him, pulls the golden bow off her shoulder, and fastens it to his. “Happy Blessed Peace Day.” She smiles.
We take that as our cue to leave. One of Ergonn’s males will return our shuttle rental. I carry Star onboard the hover-bus as we join all of our friends. The new gladiators we recently picked up from planet Trent, the ones who were staying on Fornication Island, are shoulder to shoulder in the rear. Usually they’re a rowdy lot, but today they’re silent.
“I think they’re hungover,” Dax whispers loudly.
“Shhh,” Erro says as he holds his head with both hands.
I look back a second time to make sure my eyes didn’t deceive me.
“Are we one short?” I ask, trying to picture all the gladiators to figure out who’s missing.
“I was going to make an announcement,” Zar says, his face worried. “Wrage has been missing for days. Callista has been searching the Intergalactic Database to find him. So have the Paragonian authorities. There’s nothing more we can do here. We’ll continue to search. We may have to travel as a result of any clues we get. Right now we have nothing.”
His news is met with quiet discussion as we all wonder what happened to one of our crew. I didn’t know him well, we were usually on different ships, but I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose the companionship I’ve found here.
The quiet doesn�
�t last long because Grace stands in the front of the hover and leads us in a round of ridiculous Earth songs. “This Old Man,” I understand, but ‘knick-knack patty-whack’ doesn’t translate no matter how I try to make sense of it.
I like “When You Wish Upon a Star,” especially the part that says no request is beyond your reach. Although I never dared wish for anything as amazing as my North Star, she’s here with me now. And even more amazing, she wants us to stay together.