Fenturi Fate (Spacestalker Saga Book 1) (26 page)

“It reminds me of Kre, where I grew up.” She fondly remembered the jungles from her youth.

Ren drew closer to her, his attention now firmly on her.
“It is beautiful. It reminds me of you.”
Then he bent his head and kissed her.

Just like the night before, feeling swelled and burst over them in a heartbeat.
And Dare knew she’d finally come home.

Like a starving man, Ren tugged at her clothing even as he resented the need for distance between them. He pressed against her, marveling at the differences in their bodies, which when put together, fit perfectly.

He didn’t want to talk about his past, could barely remember it as he stared into Dare’s blue eyes.

Then her eyes closed as she succumbed to the building passion between them.
Ren sighed when she kneaded his back, moving underneath his shirt to touch his bare skin.

Earlier in the shuttle, he’d sensed her need as she stared out the portal, her face reflected in the glass.
He knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her, and that had only fueled his desire while he’d waited through their meeting with Zebram.

Knowing the dangers they faced as well as their press for time, Ren knew they wouldn’t have such an opportunity soon again. If anything, his desire for her grew the more he tried to ignore it.
But it went beyond anything physical.
When he’d seen her pain at Myla’s words, he’d wanted to shelter her and punish the one causing such harm.
Her fear ate at him as if it were his own.

He deepened the kiss, drawing her breath into his lungs as he gave her his own.
Then he pulled back to
divest her of her blouse and undershirt, so he could fill his hands with her naked breasts.

“
Ren.
” She sucked his lower lip between her teeth and rubbed against him.

He shuddered, determined to make this last, though she was hammering at his self-control with every breath.
He was hard and aching to have her. The time had come.

He removed the rest of her clothing before he dealt with his own.

“No, let me.” Dare removed his shirt, her lips trailing after her fingers.
Seeing her naked and moving to her knees before him, Ren couldn’t help recalling his many fantasies and hurriedly dragged her to her feet.

“No, Dare. Let me take the lead.” He stifled her protest with another kiss.
“I have to slow it down before I forget myself.
You have me so ready, so hungry.”
He groaned when she caressed him and slid her hands to his lower back, tugging him closer.

He laid her down on the soft grass before stripping out of the rest of his clothing.
Her gaze ran over him with sheer pleasure, and she licked her lips when she found his pulsing erection.

“You’re so big. I don’t know if we’ll fit,” she said, expressing the first hint of uncertainty.

“Oh, we’ll fit.”
He chuckled and lowered himself to cover her body.
“And you’ll beg me for all of it.” At the warmth that filled them when they connected, body to body, he felt an almost religious experience. This. This was what he’d been waiting a lifetime to experience.
 

He teased her mouth, his tongue invading and probing, ferreting her most erogenous areas.
While he trailed kisses down her neck, he pressed himself between her legs, feeling the moisture of her heat surrounding his thick shaft.

He gritted his teeth at the tortuous pleasure and positioned himself to slide between the soft folds of her woman’s flesh, not penetrating but still feeling the heat of her around him.
Such bliss between her strong thighs. Dear Gods and Goddesses, he’d never heard anything so beautiful as the cries of need coming from Dare’s ripe mouth.

He kissed her neck then whispered hot words of passion and sex, driving them both to the brink as he continued to pump between her legs, but not inside her. Not yet.

“Ren,
please
,” she begged and kissed him with desperate passion.

He lowered to kiss her breasts, still not ready to take her until she was beyond thought. He suckled and caressed, tasting every delicate curve and valley of her breasts, firming her nipples into hard peaks.
The more he tasted, the more she writhed under him, moving rhythmically against his erection, seeking ease.
 

He teethed her nipple and felt her hands slide over his ass, urging him up to join her.

Her pull was strong, and she widened her thighs, taking him almost inside her. When he hesitated again, she growled low, lost to everything but him. He could
feel
her, deep inside, in a way beyond the physical.

Ren could no longer avoid the truth—that they belonged together. In
all
ways.

He nudged her thighs wider.
The light streaming through the cave bathed them in a golden glow.
He leaned up from her to see her, amazed anew at her loveliness.

“You are wild. Fenturi. So very beautiful.” Something he’d never thought to say. Ever. But it was true. He traced her lips with his own, penetrating with his tongue and delivered a soul-shattering kiss.
As he did, he positioned himself at her hot core and slowly entered her.

“Ah, Dare. You’re so hot, so
wet
.”
He groaned and continued to push, the pressure building inside him as her tight sheath enveloped the whole of him, inch by inch.

“More,” she urged and twisted, her eyes a gleaming blue, her pupils long and thin.

Loathe to hurt her, Ren forced himself to go gently.
But she wouldn’t let him. She bucked and drove him deep into her.

They both gasped, and Ren felt such ecstasy he could barely breathe.

He managed, “Are you okay?” without moving, keeping that final climax on hold until she could experience her own pleasure.

“Oh, yes.”
She moaned and wriggled her hips.
“I want you to—”

“Move, oh baby, yes.”
He pulled back, only to thrust back inside, to the heart of her womb. In and out, he ground his hips into hers while they kissed, his tongue mimicking his actions.

The pressure to release grew until he could bear no more.
Dare stiffened around him and cried out his name, tiny claws biting into his shoulders where she held on.

Feeling her pleasure catapulted him into his own release. With one final thrust Ren exploded into her, filling her with his seed.
And o
nce again a blue aura enveloped them,  together, a perfect nimbus of pleasure and peace. Of unity.

Ren couldn’t stop himself from filling her.
It felt as if his entire body had joined hers forever, his last drop of life pouring into her as she greedily absorbed him.

They lay entwined, spent and unable to move for a long while.
Fearing he was too heavy, he motioned to shift off of her but stopped when she gripped his shoulder tight.

“Are you okay, sweet?”

“Don’t move,” she whispered.
“You’re fine where you are.”

Ren bent his forehead to hers, his eyes closed, and sought her lips.
“By the Goddess, I think you killed me.” Still joined, he couldn’t believe that he remained hard inside her when he’d just been spent of his desire.

He rested on his elbows and leaned up to studying her satisfied face, feeling something within him melt at the sight of her slumberous blue eyes and swollen red lips.
 

“I don’t know how you do it, but I can’t stop wanting you.” To prove it, moved in her again. “I’m not hurting you, am I?” He wanted to stop, to give her more time to adjust, but he couldn’t seem to halt himself.

Her eyes widened and she stared at him with astonishment.
“You’re still hard in me.” After a moment, she ground up against him. “Again, Ren.”

He noted with satisfaction that she had to catch her breath.
“I shouldn’t want you again so soon, but I do,” he whispered and increased the pace of his thrusts.
“I have to have you.”

“Then have me. Again, and again. And again,” she said on a moan.

He received her acceptance in a kiss, and they stopped talking. For a good long while.

“You want me to do what?”
Castor stared at Myla with incredulity.

Thela couldn’t say why, but she liked him. He was a Stalker, an elite and deadly Legionnaire. But something about the burly man made her want to trust him.

“Just leave your weapons here and accompany Thela and Zebram into the woods.
Thela will show you where to go,” Myla explained.

“I’ll just bet she will,” Castor grumbled.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not leaving my weapons behind, especially knowing I’m walking right into the Fenturi rebellion camp.”

Zebram pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please, Castor, just do it.” He sounded tired.
 

Thela watched the men, mentally comparing the two.
Though brawnier and obviously physically stronger than the king, Castor lacked the sophisticated intelligence and self-possessed nature Zebram wore like a second skin.

Garen had that same intelligence, but not on Zebram’s scale.
She stared at Zebram, dark circles under his eyes.
He genuinely cared. A king who didn’t want war.
He was so very different from his father.

She’d seen Zebram train with his men and knew he could hold his own in a sword fight, but she had been so much more impressed watching him verbally fence with the many planetary leaders over the past month.

At first she’d been surprised he’d allowed her to oversee his every move, especially considering her Fenturi background.
But as she watched him, she gradually grew more aware of the tense battles he fought amidst the System, let alone the ones he fought on Bylar.

Having taken Cyka’s words into consideration, Thela admitted to herself that perhaps the counselor had the truth of it.
Thela found herself unwillingly attracted to Zebram’s maturity, to the flashes of humor so often found in his young, handsome face.

She also knew she couldn’t bear it if something were to happen to him.
She had to speak to her brother Mikhel, to get him to at least talk to Zebram and open his eyes to the greater threat looming over the System.

“Castor, do what your king commands,” she said with a firmness that surprised even herself.

Castor and Zebram eyed her with surprise, which irritated her even more. Thela had a backbone of steel—when she chose to show it. She was no weak creature and could hold her own with Bylar’s Legionnaires, as well as Bylar’s king.
“I’m not planning on killing my future husband,” she snapped and stomped into the woods ahead of them.

She hadn’t meant to let that slip, but now that it had she wouldn’t take it back.
She had long thought on her role in Fenturi’s future and knew she could do more good for her people here than in hiding out in the Fen forest.

Besides, from what she’d seen of Zebram, she knew him to be an honest and reasonable man. If what Cyka and Myla claimed were true, he’d actually been considering planetary unification before she’d met him.

And, she finally admitted to herself, she didn’t think she’d have a problem with him in the royal bedroom.
She blushed and was glad to be ahead of the men in the forest, though she could hear them catching up to her quickly.

Just thinking of the way Zebram’s gaze tended to linger on her, with a sensual hunger, set her blood raging.

Constantly pressed into every fiber of her being was the phrase, “Fenturi mate with Fenturi.”
Though she knew a few of the male Fenturi survivors had asked Mikhel for his permission to court her, she had refused to go with any of them.
Zebram, on the other hand, made her feel things only a Fenturi should have. Perhaps Myla had the right of it.
Thela
should not judge a people as a whole, but rather as individuals on their own merits.

She could only pray Mikhel wouldn’t do anything stupid, like try to kill the king before peace could be reached.

Zebram and Castor soon joined her, and the three moved under her direction toward the deep glens of Fen.
She noticed the rebels before either of her companions and warned in a low voice, “They are here.”

The trio stopped and waited as the woods suddenly came alive.
A small but imposing group surrounded them but made no move to further approach.
They parted as a tall, fit Fenturi strode through the mass toward Thela.

Zebram quickly moved in front of her, protecting her before himself, and the large Fenturi slowed and frowned at the protective action.

Thela placed her hand on Zebram’s shoulder and, ignoring the heat at the contact, whispered in his ear, “It’s all right. That’s my brother. He won’t hurt us.”
I hope.

Zebram slowly moved aside, and she stared without flinching at the anger and confusion lining her brother’s face.
“Ho, Mikhel.
I’ve brought someone to meet you.”

Mikhel advanced, his hands curled into claws as he stared at the three of them.
He apparently didn’t recognize Castor, but he studied Zebram with an unwavering intensity.
Thela watched helplessly as her brother’s nose flared and his eyes blazed a brilliant blue.

She stepped in front of Zebram and blocked her brother with a hand to his chest to stop the charge she knew would most likely bring about a war they could ill afford.

“Mikhel, I’d like you to meet my future husband.
This is Zebram, King of Bylar.”

At her words a low murmur around them rose to a dull roar and filled the woods until Mikhel bellowed at them to cease.

  Castor seemed bored with the proceedings. “We don’t have time for a rebellion right now.
Can’t you guys wait until the Horde has been dealt with before you try to take out the king?”

Mikhel turned his eyes to study Castor, and Thela knew her brother had no idea what to make of all this.

“Please, Mikhel, we need to speak with you.
Can we gain some privacy in which to talk?” she asked softly.

“And if you still wish to kill me, you can do so after our conversation, hmm?” Zebram suggested.

Thela shot him a dark look but waited protectively in front of him until Mikhel made his decision. Castor subtly inched closer to Zebram as well. Though as large as Mikhel, Castor had a wider chest and larger muscles.
He wouldn’t be able to match her brother’s amazing speed, but his strength would do him justice.

Finally, in a low voice, Mikhel growled, “Fine. You three follow me.”

Thela sighed with relief and followed her brother through the woods and into a small dwelling. Neither Castor nor Zebram sat as they waited for Mikhel to say something.

Thela shook her head and looked around. “You really should do something about this mess.” She found herself the object of several stares.
“What?
War or not, one can always find room for organization and neatness.”

Zebram grinned at her, his eyes sparkling as he watched her with warmth.

Oh yes. I am definitely making you my future husband. And when a Fenturi is on the hunt for a mate, look out.
She smiled back.

Despite not liking the way Zebram watched his sister, Mikhel couldn’t help wanting to hear out the king.
He studied his visitors carefully and found his gaze drawn again to the dangerous looking man standing just to Zebram’s right.

The large warrior that had yet to take his eyes off Mikhel might be a problem.
Obviously Bylaran, the man had muscles on top of muscles and a keen intelligence that flared in his dark brown eyes.
He kept his face expressionless though, and Mikhel gave him credit for at least looking the part of a seasoned warrior.

Thela looked no worse for wear, thank the Goddess.
Myla had not lied when she’d reported that his sister remained secure and well cared for in the palace.
The gold in her light brown hair glowed in the sunlight, her sparkling blue eyes soft as she stared at the king.

Then he turned his attention to the dark-haired man standing with regal bearing, waiting for Mikhel to speak.
King Zebram, the newly appointed Vinopol heir to the Bylaran throne, puzzled him.
Mikhel had seen Zedrax in action, and though a resemblance existed between the two kings, Zebram did not appear to have the same cruelty and malice that Zedrax had worn.

In fact, the new king looked actually interested in the Fenturi surrounding him.
Zebram looked from Thela to himself as if comparing them as siblings, but not one ounce of disdain or rage appeared on his face.

“Speak, Bylaran,” Mikhel ordered, trying to make some sense of this new adversary.
He had initially thought to kill the king as a testament to his people’s willingness to fight, to wipe out the royal Bylaran line as they had killed the Fenturi chieftains so long ago.
The Bylaran were too many in number to ever win against in a war, but using stealth and cunning, the Fenturi could do irreparable damage.

Yet, seeing the way his sister looked at their enemy, made him stop and think.

“So gracious,” Castor muttered before sitting at Mikhel’s table.

Zebram rolled his eyes, a very non king-like thing to do.
“I’m here for an important reason,” he said in a soothing voice, his eyes sincere.
“There is far more at stake right now than who rules Bylar.”

“Oh?”

“The Ragil Horde has destroyed Deni, one of Ocaia’s moons.
It is only a matter of time before they move in to systematically destroy the entire System.”

Mikhel frowned in disbelief.
“You really believe this nonsense that the Horde will return?
If they ever existed in the first place.”
He snorted.

Thela stared at her brother.
“You remember our teachings, surely?
The Horde almost wiped out the System a thousand years ago, and they are back again.
A coalition from the System ordered a large crew to determine the truth about the rumors surrounding the Horde.
They have returned.”

“Back then,” Zebram said, “a Fenturi powered a special weapon that helped to destroyed them.”

“Ah, yes, now I remember.
The Mari.”
Mikhel recalled Myla’s tales.
“So you need one of us to work your weapon, eh?”

“Yes, but we have the Mari.
What we need from you, Mikhel, is your strength.
E
ven if the Mari succeeds in stopping the Horde, they may still send soldiers to our planet.
And then every available warrior will be needed to fight this threat.
Bylarans will be the least of your worries.”

Mikhel had heard Myla speak of the Horde’s return but hadn’t given it much thought, so focused on the Bylaran threat ever-present.
Now the Bylaran king sat before him with no more guard than a warrior and Mikhel’s own sister. It would be so easy to kill him, yet the king did not look like a stupid man.
Perhaps this Horde rumor posed some threat in truth.

“How do I know this is not just a trick to gain our cooperation before you attempt to slaughter us?”

The king’s warrior sighed. Thela stared at Mikhel, as if urging him to agree to anything the king said. Zebram earnestly faced Mikhel’s distrust.

“How do you know? Because I am not Zedrax. That, and I wish to marry your sister.
Once this threat of invasion has passed, together Thela and I can work to overcome the many years of hatred between our people.”

“Your hatred, you mean,” Mikhel snarled.
“
My
people have been butchered and driven to ground while yours have taken over our world.”

“No, Mikhel.
If you remember what Myla told us, we have as much to blame in all of this as the Bylaran.”
Thela shook her head.
“Too much pride, too much arrogance was our downfall.
Instead of meeting them halfway, we laughed at their weaknesses as we stole and seduced their women and made sport of their men.”

“That is just Myla’s foolish talk.”
Mikhel waved her words away.

“It is not,” Zebram said as he withdrew a slim volume from under his tunic.

Mikhel stared down at the ancient diary, recognizing the seal of Shantuk immediately.
Shantuk, a great leader who led the first battle against the Bylaran, remained a respected figure in Fenturi history.