Death by Ploot Ploot (8 page)

She fought against him
every time– the same way her inner muscular barrier resisted before inviting
him in. Lorgin did not understand it but it always excited him beyond belief.
Perhaps it was the warrior in him, but he loved the challenge she
issued, even as she was surrendering.

Reaching down he cupped
her, letting his fingers run through the drenched curls and along the engorged
lips; he rubbed his face against the side of her throat. "Adeeann,"
he groaned softly into her ear.

Deana sighed. There was
no denying the big lug loved her to distraction.

She
didn't know what she had done to deserve a
love like this, but she knew enough to fight for
it. Forever.

Lorgin smoothly brought
her leg around his waist. Without hesitation he took her mouth and entered her
body simultaneously. His throbbing, satin-skinned shaft parted her like a
hot knife sinking into butter. His fiery kiss tasted of sandal-wood and
passion. And herself.

Dipping inside her
mouth, he thoroughly sampled every spot. He
licked
the upper palette,
swirling his tongue against hers, tickling and tasting.

Deana felt as though she
were surrounded and invaded by velvet. The krozia beneath her body, Lorgin's
smooth golden skin pressing from above,
his
shaft, like velvet-encased steel itself.

His lips were a satin
storm.

She
gasped into his mouth.

He breathed hotly into
hers.

He pressed her down into
the fragrant krozia groundcover.

Pushing forward, he
ground slowly into her, rotating his hips before he began to steadily thrust.
Strong arcs of electricity were building within him. More potent than she had
ever felt from him in the past.

Deana
hesitated.

He did not use this kind
of power often. Lorgin’s normal levels were potent enough to say the least. The
last time he had done a similar thing, she had passed out at the culmination of
the act.
The Transference.

Was something happening
to him she was not aware of?

A powerful arc passed
from him to her.

"Lorgin?"
she croaked, shakily.

"Shh, Adeeann. It
is my gift to you."

Her brow furrowed.
"For St. Stooges Day, you mean?"

"Yes," he
whispered back. “Relax. Let me do this for you.” He stroked a little deeper, a little
faster. He soothed her apprehension by grazing his parted lips along her jaw
line to her mouth where he delivered a searing kiss.

Deana
shivered as a corresponding arc suddenly
jumped to him from
her
.

It
always amazed Deana whenever she was able
to do that.

She
knew it was because he had mated with her.
It was common for Aviarans but she was still an
Earth girl at heart and didn't think she would ever
become blasé at such a display of raw power.

With his return pulse
came incredible pleasure.

She
could feel Lorgin’s hot breath rasp along her
collarbone. He dipped his head, catching
the curve of her shoulder with the edge of his teeth.

Deana moaned as his
thick, hard shaft impaled her to his limit. The copious amounts of dewy
moisture that aided his entry never completely cushioned her for his invasion.
She could feel his length, full and throbbing, surging within her.
Tight.
He
was a big man.

His palms cupped each
side of her face and he stared into her eyes as he adjusted his hips and
pressed deeper still. The sight of him like this
always made her breathless. He was so damn
male
.
His
spellbinding amethyst eyes were burning with sexual desire.

"Lorgin," she
breathed, overcome by her love for him.
"Lorgin."

"My Adeeann,"
he groaned. A frisson of current surged through them both.

His next kiss was so
fierce that a low guttural sound issued from her throat. At her unrestrained
response, he opened up and sent wave upon wave of his power to her. Guiding her
hips, he plunged impossibly deeper into the slick canal.

Deana cried out at the
unbearable, glorious pressure!

He lifted her other leg
to his waist and with an upward thrust of his hips, suddenly changed his angle
of penetration. An arc of power trailed in his wake. The swift stroke scraped
against the inner walls, hitting a spot that drove her crazy. She screamed as
the intense waves of pleasure consumed her senses.
"Oh, my God!"
she
whimpered, convinced this would be the time she finally died of pleasure.

Lorgin's fingers
burrowed into her hair as he continued to thrust into her. Long, steady,
masterful strokes.

Deana's arms circled his
neck, drawing him into her as they embraced each other. Her lips traveled over
his beautiful features, tasting the damp, smooth skin, loving his taste, his
scent. The warmth, the feeling, spread from her heart and pooled low in her
stomach.

He flexed inside of her,
his thigh muscles tightening with his movements.

In
response, her inner muscles clasped onto him,
squeezing his shaft.

A low growl of
appreciation came from him, causing her liquid honey to soak over him. His
response was to plunge faster. Harder.

"Yes
. . .!”
she choked.

He quickened, sending
another wild, thrumming surge of power to her.

Deana
cried out, devastated–
and sent it back it
him
.

The reverberations were
staggering. He panted
against her throat,
his breathing ragged as he thrust
into her again and again. "Are
you willing to open this new door,
zira
?" His raw voice was broken
with passion. "Will you sing it to me?"

Deana's eyes flew open
in shock. What did he mean
sing
? Was he referring to the time Yaniff had
claimed she had sung to the Shimalee? She had never been sure he had actually
done that. In fact, she was sure she had not.

"Lorgin," she
groaned between gasps. "I never sung to the–"

He leveled his steely
gaze on her. "You think not?"

Her mouth gaped. What
could she say?

"Tell me, do I sing
to you?" He rotated his hips, grinding into her with a sweet friction. She
threw her head back and cried out.

Yes
. . . " she gasped. "Yes, yes, yes . . . "

The corners of his lips
curved.

"Then feel what you
have wrought . . . what you have always sung to me . . ." He clutched her
in his arms and buried himself in her with one last final slam. "
Feel
it,
my Adeeann."

Opening himself up completely,
he let his new power flow unchecked between them.

Deana
clutched at the krozia beneath her fingers,
ripping up the stalks, as the full impact
assailed her. The culmination of their lovemaking and the flow of raw,
uninhibited power were too much.

She screamed and then
went over the edge in a staggering final release.

"I vow you are the
song of my heart." Lorgin
groaned
brokenly, right before his own release came
upon him.

He threw back his head
and yelled it out to the stars.

He dropped his head to
the curve of her shoulder as he fought to recapture his breath. When he could
breathe almost normally, he softly whispered of his love.

"Did you like my
gift,
zira
?" Lorgin's lazy voice purred against her throat.

The night was getting
cooler; a brisk breeze flowed through the leaves, winding its way through the
Tree.

Deana shivered slightly,
although she was still comfortable under the warm body of her husband. How long
had they been out here anyway? They both had drifted off to sleep after their
intense lovemaking.

Her fogged brain zeroed
in on what he had just asked her.
Gift?
She gave him a puzzled look.
"You do mean for St. Stooges Day?”

He gave a veiled look.
"Mmmm."

She didn’t quite trust
that look, nor that answer, but decide to let it go for now as she was
deliciously cozy. "It was a perfect gift," she sighed happily,
stretching out fully under him, pointing her toes.

"Perhaps in time
you will return this gift to me, Adeeann."

She paused mid stretch
and stared at him horrified. No, he didn't!
Not again!

"You-you didn't
just do what I think you did; did you?"

He didn't answer. The
smug look was answer enough.

"You rat!" She
struggled to get out of his embrace. He held her fast, chuckling.

"Calm down. You are
jumping to conclusions. I simply helped you celebrate your custom. Did you not
want what you call a romantic time set aside? A special time?"

She gave him a guarded
look. She knew Lorgin did not really 'get' the concept of romance. After all he
was
a fearsome warrior.

But that didn't stop him
from
being
romantic.

Nevertheless, he was
trying to respect her customs and she thought he had done quite well. More than
well.

Stellar.

What she had just
experienced probably topped
most women's
fantasies of a perfect Valentine's Day.
By far.

"Then-then you are
willing to make this a regular custom that you will practice?"

"Yes." He
viewed her through veiled eyes. "Provided you return the favor."

Oh
geesh.
Here it comes.

The switchback Lorgin
style.

She held her breath as she
waited for what she knew was coming. He did not disappoint.

"During my many
travels, I once visited a planet that practiced a wondrous custom."

"Uhuh. And what is
that?"

He kissed the tip of her
nose. "Once a cycle, the
females
agreed to gift the males with a night of . . . "
He paused
dramatically.

Her heart pounded in her
throat. "Of what?"

“Znog Znog."

She gave him a double
take. “Uhuh. And what exactly is Znog Znog?”

"You will find out.
Tomorrow night."

"Lorgin!" She
punched his stomach.

He had the nerve to look
affronted. "Do you not think it fair that I, too, should have a custom of
my
choice celebrated by us?" He gave
her a clever look.
"Are you not always talking about equality
between us?"

"Hmf!"

He chuckled.

She gave him a sideways
peek. "Znog Znog, huh?"

He nodded slowly.

She supposed she would
have to honor his proposal. Her shoulders scrunched in defeat.
"Alright! But just for one night." She poked
his firm chest, never making a dent. "And it better be something I
like."

"Is that not for me
to decide? It is, after all, my gift."

"Hmf!"

He
arched a brow at her.

She looked off to the
side in a huff.

"Adeeann," he
whispered.

She
glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes.
“What?”

"Wub."

Pause.

"Wub."

Pause.

"Wub."

She gasped. “You knew! You
remembered the Three Stooges?!”

He cocked his head to
the side and snorted. “As if one could forget.”

Damn!

Melody let out a LOUD
indignant,
bloodcurdling,
scream.

Sookah, Rejar's pet,
scampered up to the toddler, took one delicate whiff, scrunched her tiny nose,
and fled to territories unknown.

"Fix her,
Rejar." Traed issued the bland decree from the benefit of the opposite
side of the room.

"
You
fix her."

Traed's scoffing snort
was meant to relate that his younger brother's last words illustrated the onset
on acute insanity.

Melody went on
screaming. And for a relatively small being, had quite a vociferous howl. The
pitch was obviously designed to maximally grate on male Aviaran ears.

Traed exhaled noisily
and threw the Familiar an irritated glance the likes of which indicated that he
had not ruled out the younger man’s execution.

"What?"
Rejar had the gall to
ask, yelling above the ruckus.

"Do not test my
patience." Traed put down the book he had been trying to read and fixed
Rejar in his sights.

"Are you deaf or
simply selective in what you hear? If you wish her to stop, you fix her!"
Rejar's outburst was brought on by the unrelenting
screeching that was above any decibel Familiar ears
could
tolerate. It was an unwise response.