Claimed: The Warriors of Nur (14 page)

His hands traveled caressingly up her exposed back, unconsciously feeling for the warm protrusions that signaled a female’s need to mate.  In Gwerriera Nies females, it was an obvious sign that a female was ripe, ready to be mounted, in need of a male, but Leo’Nya’s skin remained smooth and silky beneath his touch, all the more delicious for her differences.  One toned leg snaked up his thigh to wind around his waist, the small heel curving into his backside.  The position opened her even wider, her
libsa
hiking up so that the only barrier to their mutual satisfaction was the fur cloth draped at his hips.  What had begun as a demonstration in dominance, hurtled into a sensual dance of tasting, touching pleasure with neither asserting nor relinquishing control. 

Erol tore his mouth from hers.  Burying his head in her neck, he inhaled; her exotic scent, now mingled with the flavor of her desire, left him straining against the tented material.  She clung to him, her ragged breathing a whispered plea in his ears. 

“You test me,
Duša
.”  He dragged in slow, deep cleansing breaths. 

Never had he known a taste as good as hers.  Kissing her had been like feasting on the most succulent fruit, her lips plump and full, their sweetness unimaginable.  Her ripeness rose to fill his nostrils, bringing with it the thought of how delicious she would taste in her most sacrosanct places, and it took everything in him not to lift her to his mouth.

“You will not leave,
Duša
.”  Gripping her thighs, he kept them from sliding from his waist.  “You are mine.  I will give you all that I can…but your freedom is something I just cannot.” 

He continued to gently stroke the body that clung tensely to him, and he wrapped his arms more tightly to keep her there.  He reveled in the warmth of her body and was reluctant to let her go.

“I’ll never be content, Erol. I’ll always fight.”  She didn’t struggle. Instead, she pressed her face to the warmth of his neck.  “I’ll always try to leave.” 

Why did her stomach twist at the idea of escaping him?  There was no other option for her.  In the few days spent in his home, she’d become fond of his siblings, understanding the close bond shared between them.  She’d met three of his brothers and their younger sister, and the love and genuine affection that each held for the other was obvious.  Their middle brother, Donagh Zaieh, was away to foster with extended family in another region, but he too was spoken of with love tinged slightly with the sadness of his absence.  She understood all too well the longing that they had for their missing sibling.  It was echoed a thousand times in her own longing.  Her other half was missing.  There was just no other way to put it.  While, they’d spent months apart from each other due to their obligations to the IAESC, it was always with the understanding that it was temporary.  She’d promised her sister that she would always come back, and it was a vow that she was unwilling to break.  No matter how long it took her, she’d find her way back to Avi’Nyla.  Erol was an obstacle to overcome, plain and simple, and that’s what she needed to continue  reminding herself of. 

“This I know…and if you succeed, then I am not worthy of you.”

“I leave now, brother.”

Erol knew Neron stood behind them within the room’s entrance.  He’d scented him well before he’d arrived, which was the only reason he resisted taking Leo.  He could have easily mounted her, cementing his claim, and in her openly heated state, he would have slid deep into her already, nothing to resist his invasion.  His brother’s arrival would have meant a hurried penetration, leaving his claim cemented , but neither satisfied.  He wanted their first mating to be slow and deliberate, with no question of to whom she belonged to at its completion. 

Turning, he faced the younger male.  Gwerriera Nies clan structures were very close, and he couldn’t remember a time that any of the brothers had been separated for more than a few moon cycles at a time, aside from Donagh, and that was out of necessity.  Neron would be traveling to the region of the
Tobba
to repay his bargained debt.  He’d pleaded with the
Tobba
to heal Erol, and when they’d continued to refuse, he’d bargained.  The only thing of value that he possessed was his time and physical prowess.  The price extracted for their healing was three seasons of labor, a debt that he was now honor- bound to pay.

Erol pressed his forehead to his brother’s, careful not to crush the female in his arms. 

“Thank you, brother.” 

It was all that needed to be said.  Neron had sacrificed himself for the sake of his brother—something that was never taken lightly.  To petition the
Tobba
for help was one thing, but to voluntarily indenture oneself to them was almost unheard of.  He was again surprised that they’d demanded he pay his debt in such a way.  The
Tobba
, being a female clan, rarely tolerated males in their sanctuary, and Neron would be in intimate proximity to them for the entirety of his time there.

“Go well, brother.”  He gently kissed his forehead.  It was a sign of good wishes and blessings shared between intimate acquaintances and family.  “My debt to you will never be amended.”

“Plant well, my brother...”  Neron answered with a returned kiss, “that our roots will remain strong.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Asa rubbed at the persistently aching throb behind her eyes.  The stress of the last few days had finally culminated in a migraine the likes of which she hadn’t experienced since she’d started injection-scripted medication at the age of fourteen.  She lay with her eyes closed, the rapid pounding of her heart, the only noise to break the sterile silence around her.  She still occupied one of the quarantine units, the ship not being big enough to accommodate any other quarters aside from those used for the crew.  She actually didn’t mind the generically sterile design; in fact, it was a balm to her tortured senses.  The ventilation system was programmed to constantly filter the air for any microbial or air borne pathogens, which left the room fresh and without any odor at all, which suited her just fine.  In her current state, lights, sounds, and even smells made her want to either crawl into the fetal position and whimper until she passed out, or hurl.  All she needed was a little rest and quiet, and hopefully it would pass.  She’d suffered through worse in her life, and she hoped that this one wouldn’t explode into something that kept her down for more than a few hours, a day at the most.  She didn’t have the meds she needed to get rid of it;, they’d all been left on the
Biological Warfare
,
and while she was sure that there was something on the
Lost and Found
that she could use, she didn’t want to have to explain to the med tech, why she needed a special dosage.  She’d been surprised when her labs came back all clear during her quarantine, and she didn’t want to do or say anything that would make anyone question her.

“Doctor Von.”

She jumped at the deep female voice that called to her over that internal intercom.  The room had audio that connected to a unit right outside her door.  It allowed for easier communication for those who were trapped in quarantine for extended periods of time. 

“Yes…just a moment.”  Rolling to her side, she gulped several deep breaths before crawling out of the bed.  The room was completely dark, which helped with the dizziness that came with getting into an upright position.  Smoothing the thick cotton of her sweatshirt, she walked slowly to the door, quick shallow breaths keeping her stomach from rolling too forcefully.  Tapping the panel, she shaded her eyes when the door slid open to the bright illumination in the hall.

“I’m sorry doc, were you sleeping?”  De’Lhila frowned down at the bent figure.  She didn’t think that she’d be sleeping this early in the afternoon, and felt slightly bad for waking her, but the captain had ordered monitoring checks every four hours.  So here she was.  Doctor didn’t look so good.  Maybe she really did need a nap.

“Yes…just resting for a bit.  What can I do for you Ms. Soeddsg?”  She didn’t look up, choosing instead to shield her eyes from the lights. 

“De’Lhila.”  She corrected, continuing to frown at the bent head.  “You okay doc?  You look…bad.”

“I’m fine.  What can I do for you?”  She didn’t have the energy or mental focus for this right now.

“Captain asked me to check on you.  You looked a little peaked at breakfast this morning.”  The doctor’s usual ravenous appetite had been absent that morning, and while she may have just not been hungry, her color was off too.  Instead of the normal yellow-brown, she’d been pale, almost grey, in comparison.  Her job as med-tech was to make sure that everyone on ship stayed healthy.  Even the annoyingly stuck up ones, so she was unable to ignore illness.  Especially when it sat right in her face.

“I’m just tired, Ms. Soeddsg, which is why I was taking a nap.”  She knew she was being less than gracious, bitchy even, but a few more minutes standing here, and she was going to lose all of the little breakfast she had all over the floor.  “Thank you for checking on me.  Now if you’ll excuse me…” turning, she tapped the panel again, expecting it to close behind her and glanced back shortly when the hall lights continue to blaze in, throwing shadows in the otherwise dark room. 

De’Lhila blocked the door censor, not allowing it to close.  She watched the painful shuffle, her brow creasing deeply.  There was definitely something wrong here.  Asa’s shoulders hunched protectively, her steps slow and deliberate, in an obvious effort not to jar herself.  She rolled carefully onto the small bunk, burying her head under the soft downy pillow.

“Lights up.”  She commanded, stepping into the room. 

The door closed behind her, blocking the illumination from the hall.  Crossing her arms, she stared pensively at the huddled form, noting the anguished moans that escaped from beneath the pillow as the room brightened to a normal level. 

“Slight dimming.”  She watched as the body relaxed slightly. 

“Decrease.”  Asa relaxed more. 

“Decrease to candlelight effect.”  The hunched form relaxed to lie flat on the bed, stomach down.  “What’s up doctor?  You can kiss my ass with that ‘I’m just tired’ shit.”  Her tone tightened.  “You can either tell me what it is, or I can toss your ass back into quarantine and rerun the tests.”  There was no way she was letting this go.  If there was something seriously wrong with the good doctor, she was so not willing to wait until everyone else got sick to figure out what it was.  A muffled moan, was the only response.

FUCK!  Why couldn’t she just GO!  All she needed was a little peace and quiet, and she’d be fine.  Nosy ass crew!  Since she’d hopped on board, there’d been someone with their nose in every move she made; she couldn’t pee without someone trying to test the results.  Avi’Nyla was openly hostile after she dropped her little ‘Your sister’s probably dead’ thing on her, but really…don’t ask if you’re not ready for the answer.  TK was indifferent; he didn’t seem to acknowledge her presence either way, but he made her feel watched.  De’Lhila was either mocking or just rude, and Aramis, ‘New Guy’ as they called him, was just creepy.  Like stalker creepy.  Every time she turned around, he was there.  It was like he was constantly undressing her in his head.  She could kinda understand the others’ hesitancy to trust her, could even appreciate the fact that she was a stranger to them and posed a threat simply as an unknown, but that guy... he was just downright skeevy. 

“Migraine…” she moaned shortly. 

She wasn’t sure if she could be heard beneath the muffling effect of the pillow, but there was no way she was exposing her over-sensitized nerves to the light of the room, even if she could tell that it was considerably dim from the light that filtered in around the edges of the pillow.

“Sorry doc.  You’re gonna have to do better than that.”

“Migraine…” she responded again, only slightly louder.

“Listen, doc.  I don’t speak muffled pillow.  I’m gonna need you to--”

“I have a damned migraine, De’Lhila!” she yelled, pulling the pillow away to stare accusingly at her tormentor.  “A migraine!  Nothing for you, the captain, or anyone else on this damned ship to be concerned about.  Now PLEASE…” she pleaded, replacing the pillow, her voice again muffled.

“You know…I can fix that for you doc.”  She grinned. “We have injection-scripted meds on board.  I can cert a dose for you if you like.”

“No thanks.”  Frustration laced the muffled voice.  “I’ll be fine.  Just please leave.”

“Suit yourself, doc.”  Her brows rose at the tiny tattoo displayed at the small of the doctor’s back.  The sweatshirt had risen slightly above the waistband to reveal a deep curve where her behind started, a stylized zodiac there.  Leo, if she wasn’t mistaken
.
“Dinner’s in about six.”

Leaving quarantine, De’Lhila headed towards the crew quarters.  She was tired and needed a little down time herself.  She’d spent the morning in strategic planning with Avi and TK trying to figure out what their next move was going to be.  They had to take into consideration what Asa said about the incidents leading to the explosion of her ship, but no one wanted to acknowledge the very real possibility that this rescue mission may be in vain.  That Leo’Nya might be dead.  The fact that the
Twin Encounter
hadn’t exploded gave them hope that there might have been some other reason for her ship’s malfunction, but their continued inability to locate her had begun to douse the sparks of optimism.  No one wanted to just come out and say it, and the emotional juggling was draining for someone who was not used to being considerate of others’ feelings. 

It wasn’t that De’Lhila was uncaring or unsympathetic, or anything of the sort, she’d just never been good at sugar coating shit.  She’d been raised in a military home by a military father, who ironically was as homosexual as they came.  He was one of the top-ranking officers in IAESC, and one of the most masculine, ”manly” military men you’d ever meet, but he wasn’t into females, so that had left De’Lhila to grow up in a home that was extremely disciplined.  Her father loved her deeply, that was something that she never questioned, but he didn’t really have a softer side when it came to the day to day.  He said what was on his mind and had always demanded plain speaking from her.  His style of child rearing hadn’t won her many friends in her adolescence.  When a teenaged girl asked: ‘Do I look fat in this?’ the answer should always be “No”, but De’Lhila always answered truthfully; she’d never seen the point in…well, not.  So the morning’s meetings had left her tense and frustrated.  She hated seeing one of her best friends so tormented, and not finding her sister was about as close to torture for Avi’Nyla as you could get without involving a spiked whip.

“Dim to moonlight effect.”  She commanded, sliding the panel to her room closed. 

Her quarters were located on the end of the crew deck, which made it the largest aside from the captain’s.  It was decorated in soft purplish-blue tones.  The walls were the unchangeable white of the metal used in the ship’s construction, but the carpets and pillows that littered the floor, beds and chairs were varying shades of blue, purple or a combination of both.  Sinking into the thick rugs and pillows on the floor, she let her body relax.  She so needed to do some yoga.  She could feel the tension in her knotted body and wished, not for the first time, that these ships were large enough to be equipped with actual bathtubs.  It’d been so long since she’d had the luxury that just the thought of it made her moan in pleasure.

“Increase temperature to 80 degrees.”  If nothing else, she could at least make herself a sauna, or as close to one as possible. 

She lay still, letting her consciousness sink into the warmth of the room.  She flexed her toes and fingers, enjoying the softness beneath her.  Her normal boy shorts and tank left her comfortable in the increasing warmth, and she began to drift.  She hadn’t been sleeping well lately, her dreams leaving her sexually frustrated and bow strung.  It was always the same, caressing hands, seeking lips, whisper-soft hair skimming lightly over her body.  She always woke right before she finished, unable to get back to sleep.  The female in her dream was fantasy, pure and simple.  She knew it wasn’t anyone she’d met or seen before, because she would have remembered the touch, the taste of her.  The dreams were dark, literally.  She was never able to see who was there with her, her vision being the only sense not stimulated. 

Softly she skimmed her fingertips down her neck, lightly tracing the outline of her collarbone and shoulders.  In the dream, there was not one part of her body left untouched. 

She caressed herself, gently scratching her nails up her arm and down the valley between her breasts to massage her stomach in small circles.  The dream woman always left her breasts and sex for last, the female choosing instead to find her other erogenous zones. 

Eyes closed, she lifted her leg to point towards the ceiling, leaning slightly forward to run her hands from ankle to thigh.  A light sheen covered her, and her fingers slid sensuously over her heated skin.  She remembered the feel of silky hair as  light kisses trailed down her back, and she arched her body to remove the tank and shorts.  She felt the lush fabrics slide erotically over her nakedness, imaging her dream lover’s caress.  She moaned softly, spreading her bent knees wide to allow the vented air to rush lovingly over her heated core.  She wanted to touch herself, to allow her fingers to slide into the slick honey that gathered and dripped from her opening and into the crack of her ass.  Every shifting move sent tingles along raw nerves, bringing unexpected gasps and soft moans from her.  With her fingertips, she circled the areola around her puckered nipples, her back arching in silent offering to her imaginary lover.  She plucked them, gently pulling at the silver loops that pierced their dusky ripeness.  A throat deep moan rumbled from her, her clit throbbing with every pinch and pull of the small rings.  Blood rushed to her sex, the lips pulsing with the erratic beat of her heart.  She slid her palms down across her belly, into the hollow of her hips, stopping at the ridge of her pelvis.  She didn’t stroke herself, but instead lightly pinched the inside of her thighs, a lover’s nip.  She would take this slow, not rushing to the orgasm she so badly needed.  Rolling to her stomach, she slid up onto her knees, her chest and shoulders pressed to the pillows beneath her.  She spread her legs wide, an open invitation, and shuddered at the thought of the aggressive licks, the dominant suckling that pulled her every night to the edge of her unfulfilled desire.  Resting her head on one bent arm, she snaked the other down her belly to cup her swollen pussy, lightly combing through the damp curls there.  One finger slid between the lips to stroke her sensitized nub, her body trembling at the contact.  A second finger followed, her clit slipping into the ‘V’ formed when they parted to spread her lips open.  She ran a finger around the rim of her opening before dipping inside, her walls wrapping forcefully around it.