Leaving Earth (15 page)

"Compromise," he responded, resigned and partly thrilled. They were finding a way to come together and he couldn't 136

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deny the appeal that the idea their daughters, if they were graced with them, would be able to fend for themselves. And it would be highly amusing to watch Warrior trained daughters deal with future sons-in-law. Yes, that would be high entertainment indeed.

Kendall laughed. "That's just wrong. And evil. I like it." He grinned and shrugged. "Surely you wouldn't deny an old man a little amusement?"

Shaking her head, she bit her lip a moment before going on. "Back to the subject. What happens to the girls?" He sobered. "If they are Artist or Healer, they are trained by their clans. At eighteen, all three castes are allowed to pursue other training."

She nodded understanding. "Like the boys."

"Yes. And at twenty-five, they have the same decision to make. They can change castes. But, for both sexes, once you switch castes it's permanent. For that reason, Warrior females rarely ask for that change. They might train where appropriate and ask to serve with a Warrior clan, usually their home clan, but they don't make the formal request." She was quiet a moment, digesting this new information.

"There is an exception, of course." She grinned. "There always is."

"A female can make the formal change, and later leave that caste, if she formally mates with someone in a different caste."

"Ahh, so we aren't formally mated?"

* * * *

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She almost snorted. Of course there was a catch. Why would he formally take a woman who wasn't even one of them? What did that make her? A mistress? A concubine? He turned to her, set his hands on her shoulders, and gave her a little shake.

"There is only one bond and it's forever." He sighed. He didn't want to explain this to her now. "Laney is formally bonded and you will be too. I just didn't want to spring this on you yet."

That sounded ominous. What the hell did this formal thing entail? He read her thoughts again.

"If it were anyone else, nothing more than meeting with the priests and claiming each other. But I'm an Overchief and it's a bit more ... complicated."

Definitely didn't sound good. Her heart constricted and her skin grew cold in the warm desert night. He watched her a moment before responding. His blue eyes were almost black with intensity and she found impossible to look away.

"We still must meet with the priests." She began to worry when he didn't go on. Could they deny the bonding? He shook his head.

"No they can't. But to formally recognize an Overchief's bond, they must witness the couple." She frowned. If the priests met them, wouldn't that be witnessing? Then she caught his meaning, gasped as she stepped away and paced the length of the balcony.

"I am not having sex in a roomful of strangers," she said between gritted teeth.

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"There won't be anyone else in the room. They'll watch remotely by vid-screen."

"This is just for Overchiefs? Why?" He sighed. "Tradition. Why else?"

"Not good enough, Daggar."

"Finding your
der'lan
is a life altering event, but it isn't guaranteed. We consider mated males stronger for it, whether it actually makes them stronger or not. And in the case of Overchiefs there are also heirs to consider." There was something important there. What was she missing? "I don't understand what children have to do with my letting three strangers watch you fuck me."

"Chemistry again. We rarely have children outside of matings."

So she couldn't have children with anyone else?

"Exactly." He read her mind again. "But medical interference can make a difference. The witnessing is because of that. There were some past instances of Overchiefs falsely claiming they were mated to further secure their leaderships. Then..." he shrugged, letting the sentence trail off, but she thought she got it.

"Then they met who was supposed to be their
der'lan
?"

"Or the woman in question met her true
der'lan
. That causes nothing but turmoil."

"I still don't get it."

He caught her wrist as she walked near and pulled her flush up against him. Her whole body sparked into lusty wakefulness.

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"Someone who is truly mated would never allow another male to witness his woman like that. Naked. Passionate. Vulnerable."

"I don't think I can," she murmured, rubbing her nose against the warmth of his chest. "If we're bonded anyway, why should we go through with it?"

But he'd already given her the answer to that question. A formal mating would make him appear stronger, and she was well aware of how important perception, real or false, was in politics.

He whispered in her ear, "You won't even be aware of them. I'll make sure of that, my heart." She fisted her hands so hard her fingernails sharply pinched her palms. She didn't want to crave him right now, didn't want to give into the need for him. She wanted to be angry, wanted to bitch and rant. But she couldn't deal with the information yet and she found herself leaning forward, resting her forehead against his chest for half a second before flicking his exposed nipple with her tongue. His taste exploded in her mouth, tangy and salty and masculine. Groaning, she tried to move closer, let the sheet slip from her grasp to fall around her feet. His hands were instantly on her hips, holding her still while she explored his chest with her lips and tongue. Tasting. Teasing. She moved lower, dropped to her knees when he released his grip on her hips, to kiss a trail from his navel to one hipbone then across his pelvis to the other. He moaned when she moved lower, when her tongue darted out to catch the drop of pre-cum on the tip of his cock.

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She wanted to take him into her mouth, suck him until he was wild and out of control and hers to do with as she wished. But first she had to touch him, had to learn every inch of him. She set her hands on his thighs, thrilled at the way his muscles contracted at her touch. Holding his gaze, she slid her palms to the back of his legs then up to his ass before moving them lower, stroking him all the way to his calves before sliding them around to his shins and then back up to his thighs.

She took the base of his cock in one hand and licked the shaft. It jerked in her hand and he made a noise somewhere between a growl and a moan.

"We still have to discuss it, baby," he mumbled. Discuss her giving him head? No wait. He meant the formal bonding. Her mind shied away from the decision she had to make.

"Later," she whispered, taking the head of his penis into her mouth. There would be time enough to contemplate the future later, but she knew she'd already made her choice. To stay on this strange world. To stay with this irresistible man. Even if it meant letting others watch them. Even if the only reason to do so was to position him into a more powerful position. It would also strengthen her and if it helped perhaps keep him safer ... well, she'd do anything to insure that. She took more of him into her mouth, widening her jaw to accommodate his girth. It would be impossible to take all of his length. As it was with her hand around part of him, his head was almost to the back of her throat. She adjusted her grip to expose more of him and he groaned as he slid farther 141

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into her mouth until he filled her, until his tip did touch her throat.

"Harder."

She tightened her grip on his shaft, letting her teeth graze his sensitive skin as she sucked harder while drawing back so he slid mostly free of her lips. He moved his hands to her head, twisting them in her hair as he took over and thrust back into her mouth. He pulled out, pushed back in. Experimental at first. Slow. Building to a faster rhythm with each push until he was driving into her in sure strokes, until she had to grab onto his hips for balance. He groaned when she moved her hands. No longer restrained in any way, his cock hit the back of her throat over and over again. Instead of having to fight her gag reflex, she was amazed at how much the sensation turned her on, at how wet her pussy grew with each stroke. She tasted more pre-cum with each passing second, knew he was close to coming and wished she could go with him.

Touch yourself, baby.

She was struck by shyness. She'd never masturbated in front of anyone before.

Do it. I want to watch you. I want to feel you come. Want
to feel your submission.

His strokes slowed. He was waiting for her.
Now, Kendall
. She closed her eyes, let the mental order flow through her, excite her. She moved one hand to her collarbone, lingered over her nipple as she slid it down. Tugged at the chain and shivered when she moved again, trying to drag out the pleasure. Her hand reached her pussy 142

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and she spread the folds, dipped two fingers inside and gasped. Daggar began to thrust faster, harder.
Your clit,
baby. Touch your clit.

She did, a light caress, a gentle touch that sparked her blood but didn't ignite the flames between them.
Harder.

She pressed down, rubbed small tight circles. It was impossible to gasp her pleasure, to demand more while her mouth was full of his cock.

Harder. You know how you like it. Pinch your clit, baby.
Come with me.

She wanted to protest that she wouldn't last longer than him and then she felt him, felt her mind connecting with his and knew he was only waiting for her. Taking the swollen nub between her thumb and finger, she squeezed and exploded at the same time he did, his cum erupting into her mouth, his cry loud above her.

He held her still to accept him, hands still twisted in her hair as she swallowed the salty seed then cleaned his softened cock with swirls of her tongue. With each suckle he grew stiffer until he was once again hard in her mouth. Withdrawing, he reached down and lifted her, fused his lips over hers with a heated out of control kiss. He broke it too soon and she moaned her protest as he stepped away. Spinning her around, he walked forward, moving her with him until he set her hands on the balcony rail, bending her forward at the waist.

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She whimpered as he entered her from behind, her pussy immediately contracting around the welcomed invasion. He was exquisite. Perfect.
Hers.

"Now you're getting it, baby."

He started to thrust. Long slow strokes grew a little harder, a little rougher. She moved with him, trying to encourage him with her body to give her more. She wanted him faster, more forceful.

"Greedy, aren't you, my
der'lan
?" he queried as his hand landed on her ass in a hard slap.

She groaned, her pussy growing slicker around him at the sting of pain. He repeated the action, the slaps harder, hitting her skin furiously one after the other. His cock slammed into her harder, faster, pushing her higher to a precipice of unimagined pleasure/pain. Then he was in her mind, sharing his deepest thoughts, his darkest needs. For her to surrender to his care completely. For her to accept any pain or pleasure he chose to give her. For her to trust him to catch her, to cherish her, to
love
her, through it all. He loved her. This incredible, dominant, infuriating man loved her. The realization broke the last bit of control she'd been holding onto, released that last bit of her soul she'd been hiding from him. She shattered, her mind and body both reaching for him, accepting the pain and pleasure he gave her as she came. She clung to the railing as his hips pistoned against her, as the shudders wracked her body. Until finally he was leaning over her, his chest pressed against her back. He sucked the sensitive skin between her neck and collar between his teeth hard enough to leave a mark, and then he 144

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straightened, thrust one more time while crying out into the silent night.

She was vaguely aware of him moving several minutes later. Carrying her inside and lying down beside her, holding her close as she drifted off to sleep.

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She woke to a steady, incessant beeping, and sat up groggily as she reached for the communicator Barak had dropped off for her the previous evening. The screen flashed an incoming message from an unknown source. She clicked to open it, feeling the last remnants of rest fall away as she read the request from Britt to meet her at the Ambassador's office. Her friend wouldn't have asked if she didn't believe she'd discovered something important and needed backup. Her belly rolled as she stood and rummaged through drawers for clean clothes. She hurried through a shower, dressed, slid the comm unit into her pocket and went to find Laney. She had no problem assisting Britt, but the tenseness of their current situation unnerved her. She wanted to be armed when she met her friend.

She entered the common room and found everyone already there. Laney and Alrik argued quietly on the couch and Barak and Daggar watched from the counter separating the kitchen area from the living area. She took a deep breath, the scent of coffee filling her nose and giving her a kick of anticipatory energy. After pouring a cup she joined Daggar and Barak, nodding at the two on the couch.

"What's up with them?"

"Hakon was taken into custody this morning. Laney wants to sit in on the questioning."

"That's a problem?"

"Alrik wants her to rest."

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"Good luck with that," she huffed, sweeping her critical physician's gaze over Daggar.

He looked pale and worn, and glared back at her. She must have let the thought slip through her feeble attempt at a mental barrier. She shouldn't have bothered trying; he easily slipped through her guard and she felt his irritation. It wasn't directed at her though. He was frustrated with being less than one hundred percent, with the power plays between the Overchiefs and the rebels in his caste. Sighing, she reached up to finger the short locks of hair falling over his forehead. Sometime between last night and the new morning, he'd found someone to sheer off his long hair. It was now short, not so bedraggled looking against the spots she'd had to shave to stitch up the lacerations caused by the bomb a couple of days ago.