Vanquished (17 page)

“So my attraction
to you isn’t because of pheromones?”

“No. Not the
bonding pheromones but we definitely have other…chemistry.”

The pain in her
chest loosened a trifle. “Why did you go and see Victoria?
And
Leric?”

“To
test a theory with a limited sample.
I also inquired of Eltrast and
Jurlek.” Vayne hesitated and she could see him choose his words. “I’ve asked
Stenlor to consider other Shadalla-human pairings, but that kind of information
is best obtained face-to-face. Our traditions run deep, and because of the
dearth of females it stands to reason the males who were graced by a chosen
might not be forthcoming without absolute, credible reassurances. That there
would be no interference.”

“You’re talking
like a politician.” Her heart hitched up a beat, knowing there was something
life-changing on its way.

“I am a politician,
Neira.
Part of the burden of being sovereign.”

“Fine, but can you
just tell me?” She wanted to pace away from him or stick her fingers in her
ears nearly as much as she wanted to hear him out. Her throat was dry and she
felt a fine dew of sweat break out at her temples.

“It is entirely
possible that bonding between our species lack some of the nuances Shadalla
matings have. While the brain reaction is definitely there and our males
recognize their chosen, thus pursue and seduce them with considerable…verve,
the length of the process varies with each woman. To be expected, perhaps,
given that we are compatible but not of the same species, so no one remarked on
it. But that could infer the
terms of the completion is
different. So I inquired of Leric.”

The vision of a
besotted Vicky—a languid bundle of need caught up in the executive officer’s
arms—slipped across Neira’s mind.

Vayne passed one
big hand over his face, the palm rasping against the stubble on his chin.
“While he doesn’t have anything other than the words and stories of others who
found their Shadalla lifemates long ago, he confirmed that there is a definite
distinction
between him and Victoria.”
He laughed. “It took my position and our friendship to wrest that from him,
incidentally. Your fellow passenger might not have completely lost herself to
Leric, but he would do anything to keep her.
Including
defying me.
Lying by omission, a definite crime.”

“Victoria fell in
love with Leric?
Without the other implications and
influence?”
Neira couldn’t keep the doubt from her voice.

“It would appear
so. I suppose the sex had something to do with it, as well.”

Her gaze flew to
his. “You’re teasing me. You wouldn’t have sex with me without consent
to…more.”

Silence stretched
out as he continued to watch her, and she tried to hold on to her equilibrium
as the last of the barriers melted away. There was no need for him to answer.
The attraction she did her best to deny, to attribute to those pheromones,
flowered and consumed her once again and this time she made no effort to
control it.
Chemistry without those other implications.
Her breathing changed, louder in the space, at least to her ears, and she
catalogued the way her body responded without the iron control of her mind. It
was definitely lust and desire but upon learning it wasn’t purely the result of
advanced genetics she could admit to it being more.
Wanting
more.

Taking a deep
breath, she spoke. “You ask a great deal of me.”

“No more than I am
willing to give.”

She believed him,
and what was more, now trusted him. And she knew he saw it too.

“Come here, little
warrior.”

****

Rising with the
innate grace of the
leicat
, Neira
moved to stand before him. Vayne never took his eyes from hers as he reached
out to place a hand at her waist, just above the curve of her hip, splaying his
fingers across the swell of her buttock. His touch resonated through the both
of them, despite the layer of material, manifesting as a faint shiver in Neira
and as a subtle shock wave up his arm. He closed his eyes the better to savor
it, so secure in the belief she wouldn’t take action against him in his
vulnerability. Their connection had deepened and would flourish, and the
perfection of that belief soothed every part of his soul.

Blinking open, he
pulled his hand away and leaned back. “Remove your clothing.”

Without hesitation
his chosen swept the tunic over her head to bare her swelling breasts, the red
nipples already beading with anticipation and her passion. She shoved the pants
down, tiny briefs pulled along with the heavier fabric, and she stepped out,
kicking the bundle away. He could scent her renewed arousal, her cleft slick
and plump, and a growl escaped him.

Unbidden, she sank
to her knees and he spread his own to allow her access. Neira shuffled forward,
fitting her body close and Vayne granted her unspoken wish, those tawny eyes
telegraphing her intent. He was painfully ready and despite the disconcerting
amount of information he’d been showered with, he wasn’t stopping to consider
anything else. His female was in need of him and
he
,
of her.

One of her slender
hands passed over the hard bulge of him and he willed her to hurry, but she
almost lazily worked the panel of his uniform leggings open, intent on her
task, and an eternity passed before his cock was freed. Vayne moaned at her
touch, her fingers tracing the raised ridges in his flesh, drifting over the
sensitive cockhead, and he gritted his teeth to control the urge to thrust into
her hands.

“Beautiful,” she
murmured, rubbing her cheek against him.

“Suck me.” As a
command it fell short, and the sovereign wasn’t used to begging—ever.

He peered down at
her as she lowered her head over him, pursing her lips tightly against any
advance and his cock took up the challenge without any direction from him. It
pressed harder against the seam of Neira’s mouth and was granted access in
excruciatingly tiny increments, slipping inside on her saliva and the
enticement of her tongue. Little, come-hither strokes drew him ever deeper, and
as commanded she began to suck him down, surrounding him with sensation until
he was lodged deep in her throat.

His beast surged
and Vayne set his hands on Neira’s head, a benediction, before taking charge of
the delightful task. She didn’t resist, her own hands resting on his thighs,
fingers clenching as he directed her mouth. He could make out the fan of her
lashes across her flushed cheeks and was granted with the sight of those ripe
lips as he pulled her away, only to wrench her back to take him again and
again. She used her tongue with abandon and soon his strokes faltered as his
orgasm boiled forth, his seed stored up for days as he waited for her to
consent. He erupted into her throat, massaging that slender column as she
swallowed him down, and he regretted only the loss of an opportunity to give her
a child. When he carefully withdrew, his member wet and only slightly softer,
Neira stared up at him, her mouth swollen once again. She looked well used—and
satisfied.

“You please me,
Neira.” He sounded as gratified as he felt and she smiled mysteriously in
response. Females—all females—appeared to appreciate their power, and Neira was
most definitely female.

Standing, he
stripped away his uniform, watching her watch him as she scanned his body, her
golden eyes shimmering with lust. She accepted his hand and he lifted her to
her feet, his arousal building impossibly again but now well within his
control. He swept her up and swiveled to place her on the bunk, reveling in the
way she relaxed into him. Straddling her, he traced the same line he had
dropped kisses on earlier, wanting to believe he could see his mark.
“My chosen.”

Neira shifted
restlessly beneath him, and Vayne accepted there was still much to discuss, but
for now he would enjoy this time with her. Palming her breasts, he lifted the
tender weight, his thumbs rubbing her nipples into tighter points. His breath
caught in his chest when she raised her hands above her head toward the cuffs.

Wordlessly, he
accepted her offer and buckled her in, pressing a kiss on each wrist. “You’ve
already ensured my control with your clever mouth, little warrior. But this way
I can bring you the greatest pleasure while you are powerless to gainsay me.”

Neira’s eyes
dilated and her lips parted. Vayne observed her carefully for signs of distress
but detected only arousal.

Dropping a kiss on
her mouth, he smiled wickedly when she tried to capture him with those sweet
lips.

“As you had your
way with me, so shall I with you.”

“Certainly,
Sovereign.”
The obviously faked acquiescence in her voice was supported by
the demureness of her gaze and Vayne ground his teeth. The gods of Isord hadn’t
lied when they forecast the lure of a submissive woman with a fiery spirit.
What they’d failed to point out was that earning such a one’s trust might
dictate the strongest connection.
And the most enduring one.

Returning to her
breasts, he again lifted them and lowered his head, teasing each tender bud
with his teeth and tongue, relishing Neira’s tiny gasps and the way she tried
to lift into his caresses. “Patience,” he murmured, and laved the undersides,
swirling his tongue over the silken flesh.

When he finally
suckled her, Neira arched into his body, her long legs stretching and flexing
restlessly behind him as he switched from breast to breast, assessing her
breathy whimpers and near-silent pleas. She would scream his name before he was
done with her and his cock filled again at the thought.

Taking his time, he
followed along the delicate cage of her ribs with his lips, traversing the
plane of her belly as fingers replaced his mouth, tweaking her nipples with
devilish intent.
So responsive.
Had anyone taken their
time with her? Had she ever enjoyed a lengthy sexual congress?
Intimacy.
His
leicat
feared it and he would teach her to never fear anything with him. She would
never have that kind of privacy if he was to give her the pleasure she so
deserved.

Licking past the
cup of her navel, he traced her hip bones, marveling at the narrow breadth of
her pelvis, hoping his child would soon be sheltered there, and on impulse he
turned his head and rested his cheek against her satin skin.

Neira’s breathing
slowed and grew steady and they shared the long moment before he took up his
quest. “Open your legs to me, little warrior.”

Her long thighs
parted and he inhaled deeply of her feminine musk, his beast stirring
restlessly. He coaxed her legs further apart, bending them and setting her feet
flat to allow him total freedom. Kneeling between them, Vayne stroked the soft
skin with reverence before continuing upward to where her arousal glistened. Such
a small, tight pussy with pouting lips the color of the fruit Neira liked at
their morning meal. He dipped his head for a taste—tart yet sweet. She audibly
sucked in air and he raised his face to ensure she saw what was written there,
embodying what he felt. She blinked and everything in her eyes told his future.
Their future.

It took effort to
break their stare. The muscles in her belly rippled as he looked down at her
center again. Crimson petals edged with pink, shining with her juices, the knot
of her pleasure beckoning. Vayne had often refused such a summons but
understood he could never resist his chosen.

Settling at her
apex, his wide shoulders preventing any effort to hide her from him, he slipped
his hands beneath her buttocks to tilt her for his best sensual attack and
lowered an openmouthed kiss, his tongue lapping along Neira’s slit in its
entirety. Those long legs slid over his shoulders in an effortless motion and
she whimpered and entreated him. But he worked at his pace, learning her, tasting
her and rejoicing in his chosen. He sipped at her fount and she gave him more,
fighting his hold as she chased an orgasm.

“Please, Vayne.
Please.” The cuffs rattled as she strained against them.

Ah, not yet
screaming, although such impassioned sobbing was close. He sucked the tiny
cluster of nerves between his teeth, flicking it with his tongue, and his
little warrior came on a cry that echoed in the small space. Relentlessly, he
drove her up again, worrying her clitoris and stroking into her clenching
opening. He pressed his thumb against her tight rosebud, slick with the cream
of her efforts, and gained entry as she went over again. Neira actually lifted
his bulk from the mattress with a shudder and arch of her strong body, her
heels hammering wildly against his back. He’d forever cherish the sound she
made, a combination of his name and a prayer, and relented, petting her as she
came back to herself.

Easing her legs to
the mattress, he worked his body upward to
lay
on his
side, close to her damp form, and kissed away the tears of extremis. His cock
jumped at the touch of her skin and he shifted to lessen the torture. When at
last her eyes fluttered open he fell into her yet again.
His
chosen.