Chapter Ten
Charity had entertained visions of making love on mounds of hay. She’d forgotten Clan Amgar’s lack of livestock meant they had little use for large amounts of the stuff. Fortunately, they had a supply of bags of chicken feed piled nearly knee-high and wide enough to accommodate her. Perhaps it wasn’t as soft as hay would have been, but it made for an okay surface to lie on. No stalks to jab her was a plus.
It was where Detodev had set her after he’d stripped her nightgown off. Now she was gasping and moaning as his hot mouth moved from breast to breast, sucking enthusiastically.
His weight on her was an enthralling reminder of how big he was. How strong, thanks to his muscled physique. She was brutally conscious of his power as he hungrily devoured her breasts and his hands roamed her far softer topography. Her entire body sang as cascades of pleasure ran through her from scalp to toes.
Her legs curled around his waist, seeking to trap him. He could be so distant. She feared he might abruptly think better of the situation and run. Much of her writhing was from pure ardent instinct, but some was calculated. She wanted him. Like Ilid, she’d wanted him almost from the moment she’d seen him.
“Detodev,” she groaned, running her hands on his brawny upper back and shoulders, then tangling her fingers in his wavy hair. It was dark in the barn. Robbed of her sight brought sensation to the fore, exciting her.
She was blatantly aware of the sting when he nipped the underside curve of her breast. She gasped as the shock rolled straight to her pussy. The crotch of her panties was already soaked through, but excitement gushed anew to wet her inner thighs too.
“Oh!” she cried, her legs tightening on him. She’d heard Kalquorians enjoyed rougher play. It was an enthralling surprise to find she enjoyed at least this small demonstration.
It was proven again when he bit her other breast. His weight pinning her, robbed of sight, unable to keep him from delivering hints of punishment…Charity was consumed by arousal to be in such a position.
It made her wonder what Ilid, possessing a Dramok’s command, might have done to her if they’d had better opportunities to explore during their trip to Haven.
Detodev kissed his way to her mouth, his passion stealing her breath. His hand squirmed between them despite her legs’ desperate grasp. She squalled when he stroked the sodden crotch of her panties, his touch firm on her clit. His kiss muffled her wild cry, and his return growl was likewise softened…but its vibrations thrummed through her.
Be as animal as your Nobek nature wants , a part of her silently pleaded.
She had hopes he would. His arousal scent, similar to Ilid’s, betrayed his growing lust. Perhaps it was because he was a Nobek that Charity thought he smelled wilder than her other crush. The sweetish-spicy aroma had an added musk she found incredibly erotic.
Or maybe it was simply the fact his fingers were seeking entrance through the leg of her panties. They discovered it, and his calloused touch was abruptly on her.
In her.
She flailed at the sudden invasion, her legs releasing him to kick the air as bliss tumbled through her sex. She clawed his back, and he snarled against her lips. He bit the lower one. Once again, slight pain translated to mind-blowing pleasure. Charity’s cry rang through the barn.
“I’ll make you come for me,” the deep, growly voice promised, sending a shockwave of exhilaration down her spine. “You have no choice, woman.”
His thumb sought her clit and rubbed. At the same instant, the two fingers in her applied demanding pressure to her inner wall, finding a place matching her clit for electricity. All at once, Charity was on the brink. Bright, shining rapture held her for an instant…then her senses exploded.
A heaving tide of pure ecstasy swept over her. It hadn’t begun to recede when the next wave hit. She was lost in euphoria, drowning in it as each surge drove through her.
It seemed a lifetime later when she became aware of darkness surrounding her, of a blissful weight on her, of someone else breathing heavily above. Of fingers filling her, though the invasion was now happening elsewhere, where she’d never been filled before. Filled and emptied, filled and emptied, stretching her so she experienced a thrilling ache, which kept the quieting surges of completion flowing.
“Gorgeous Starry Eyes,” came Detodev’s voice, weighted by feeling. “You’re so beautiful when you come.”
“Prophets,” she groaned. “You should license those fingers and your mouth as deadly weapons.”
His chuckle was breathless. “I damned near joined you. You’re amazing to watch. Are you all right? Am I hurting you?”
The ache had eased. Charity missed it, strangely enough, but the pressure was still exciting. As was the anticipation of what they had yet to experience together.
“I’m fine. Wasted, thanks to you being in-fucking-credible, but I’m perfect. You’ve been practicing on the local farmgirls, haven’t you?”
He snickered. “I’ve been lucky enough to have a couple of encounters. Not too often. Drinking on both sides is usually involved when they start dropping hints. More drinking when they finally ask me to satisfy their curiosity about Kalquorians.”
He didn’t approach them, then. It made Charity sad his perceived lack of merit as a Nobek extended to his love life. How much joy was Detodev missing out on because he let Kalquorian society’s parameters dictate how he saw himself?
She gripped his head in her hands and pulled him in for a kiss, pouring into it her need for him to see himself as worthy.
He broke from her long enough to strip off his shirt. She gloried in the warmth of his skin as the kiss resumed, as the barrier of his pants disappeared. She felt him hot and heavy and slick on her mound and spread her legs in welcome.
He entered her cautiously despite the tension she felt thrumming in his body. His second shaft was significantly larger than his fingers, and she was glad of his care. His primary was thicker. Though she was no blushing virgin, his girth made her ache. Despite the increasing ardor of his kiss, betraying his mounting eagerness, he took his time. Even so, Charity wondered if she could actually make love to this man.
He slid against the sensitive place inside. All discomfort disappeared as passion seized her. She cried out, and he froze.
“No. Don’t stop. For prophets’ sakes, don’t you dare stop,” she gasped.
His low growl answered, and he continued to fill her. Her head tossed as the brutal friction of the double impalement increased, soaring her ever closer to detonation. Her constant moans were punctuated by high-pitched sounds as surges of bliss shot through her. She was conscious of the ache of taking him. It added to rather than detracted from her excitement.
He didn’t pause when they were fully joined. He rumbled animal noises at every exhale, warning he was as aroused as she. His hips rocked, feeding the bounding elation driving her quickly to the precipice. The only question was who’d reach climax first.
Charity’s legs wound around his clenching ass, clutching in rhythm to his quickening thrusts. Her hips drove up to meet his descent. She grasped handfuls of his hair to hold him so she could kiss and bite his lips. Their movements were frenzied and wild as pleasure twisted in a knot inside her clamoring pussy.
Tight, tighter…she felt she’d go insane before she reached the breaking point. It came all at once, ripping apart and flinging her into ecstasy.
Somewhere in the maelstrom of orgasm, she was aware of Detodev shouting. Anything else was eclipsed in the raw violence of pounding, pulsing elation.
It was some time later when she returned to the darkened barn. Her pussy throbbed in concert with the gentling jolts from the cocks in her. Their gasps rang loud in the stillness. Detodev had rolled them so they lay on their sides facing each other.
“Hi,” she whispered. “Have you returned to reality yet?”
“Barely.” He chuckled. She wished she could see the rare smile she sensed he wore. “I hope I wasn’t too quick.”
“Did I sound like you were too quick?” She snuggled in closer, enjoying how big and warm he was. “I’ve had two. You have some catching up to do.”
“If that’s an invitation, I’ll gladly take you up on it. Give me a few minutes.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“However long you need.” She thought for a minute. “My first Kalquorian. Now I’m angry I’ve been missing out.”
“I’m surprised Ilid was denied the privilege of being your first.”
“He would have been, but the shuttle cabins weren’t soundproof. His parents had the uncanny ability to be in earshot when any opportunity presented itself. You heard how loud I am.” She scowled because it had been obvious Ilid’s parent clan would have been delighted if they’d become lovers. She’d had half a mind to tell them they needed to make themselves scarce more often during those three days of missed chances.
She snickered as another thought occurred to her.
“What?” Detodev sounded suspicious.
“I was thinking it’s funny you and I just had sex, and it’s you who brought up another man.”
“I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression being with you was less than incredible. It was.”
“Thanks and right back at you. I don’t mind you brought him up. Hey, since you did, can I ask about you and Mitag? You do consider him a buddy, right? Boon companion? I’m curious if he knows you’re a pacifist.”
There was a beat of silence before he answered. “I haven’t told him. I’ve tried putting him off…you know, expecting the worst when he finds out I refuse to be the typical Nobek…but my being difficult only seems to encourage him.”
“Or he’s so determined to have friends and clanmates, he can’t stop himself.”
“I think he enjoys a challenge.” Detodev sighed.
Charity found his nose and tweaked it. “Don’t sell yourself short. Since I’ve solved the mystery of strong, silent Detodev, I’m still attracted to you. Don’t sell Mitag short either where your pacifism is concerned. A guy who does event planning for human farmgirls must have an open mind.”
“I suppose it’s possible.” He sounded far from convinced. Charity imagined she heard regret in his tone again.
Detodev likes Mitag. He’d be lost without his insisting on hanging around. I wonder if he realizes it. He’s so determined to stay walled off from everyone, he might have lost touch where his feelings are concerned.
“Now I’m down to finding out what’s up with Ilid,” she said, discerning it would probably be a bad idea to press the subject. For the moment.
“Mitag will. Ilid agreed to have drinks at his home. One step in that Imdiko’s lair, and it’s pretty much finished. He’s as determined as you.”
“Imagine him and me as a team.”
“I shudder.”
She rubbed against him. “I don’t feel fear saying hello down low, do I? A couple of hungry boys are waking up. Come on. I want to guarantee you spend your workday too satisfied to be miserable from a lack of sleep.”
Detodev proved he was up to the challenge.
* * * *
Ilid opened his eyes and discovered he was frozen on a medi-bed. He couldn’t budge an inch. His breath caught as the spyship’s medical department swam into clarity. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out.
Dr. Umen moved in view. He cocked his head to one side, his hooded eyes narrowed in fascination. Ilid had little interest in the man’s broad features, however. An indistinct blob sat on Umen’s wide shoulders, its shadowy tentacles curled around his throat and chest.
“Awake, are we? Fine, fine. I’ve completed all the tests I can while you’re living, and it’s time to dissect you. Of all the ways to kill a Kalquorian, this is my favorite. Don’t die too quickly please. It takes all the fun out of it.”
He raised a laser cutter so Ilid could see it. He switched it on.
He pointed it at the trapped man’s abdomen.
The agony hadn’t begun, but Ilid screamed in anticipation of it. This time, his horror opened its voice, and it pealed loud, drowning Dr. Umen’s maniacal laughter.
“Ilid! Wake up! Ilid!”
Ilid’s eyes flew open. Hovering over him, an Imdiko orderly named Darir was shaking him, his gaze terrified.
Darir? But he was dead, killed by the Darks as the spyship had blown up.
The nightmare finally loosened its hold. It wasn’t Darir calling his name, but Mitag.
No Dr. Umen. No Dark. No fleet spyship medical department. Ilid was on Haven.
“Ilid!” Mitag shouted.
The Dramok’s shriek cut off. He lay gasping, staring up at the young man he’d come home with. He’d fallen asleep on Mitag’s lounger. He reached up, his hand shaking, to touch Mitag’s face. Mother of All be praised, he could move. Better still, Mitag’s cheek was warm. Solid. Real.
“Fuck,” he groaned. He closed his eyes as the sting of tears from mortal terror transformed to tears of relief.
“No kidding.” Mitag trembled too. “I ran down the hall from my sleeping room, convinced a murderer was in here killing you. It must have been a hell of a nightmare.”
“You have no idea.” Shame washed through Ilid. He wondered how Mitag would take it if he simply got up and left. Probably not well.
“Why don’t you tell me about it? Expose it to the light so it doesn’t seem so bad.”
Ilid barked a harsh laugh. “It wouldn’t work.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” Ilid opened his eyes.
Mitag still hovered, concern spelled clearly on his handsome features. His desire to somehow help was obvious. “I wish you would anyway. I hate seeing you so freaked out. I like you, Ilid.”
“Don’t.” Ilid immediately regretted how harsh he sounded when Mitag winced. He gripped the Imdiko’s shoulder in apology. “I’d be a waste of effort.”
“How can you say that? Maybe I don’t know you well yet, but you’re clearly a wonderful man.”
“I’m an okay man. I’m a shitty Dramok. Probably the worst you’ve met.”
Mitag stared in confusion. “Because you had a nightmare?”
“Because I’m afraid every second of every day.” Admitting it gave him a sense of relief. Pretending he was someone he wasn’t, a strong Dramok in command of his life, was too much of a burden. Ilid considered wearing a sign bearing the words he’d spoken: I’m always afraid .
“What are you afraid of?”
No dismay. No disgust. Mitag kept gazing at him, his expression a study of gentle compassion and caring.
Ilid had to set this Imdiko straight. He thought Mitag was wonderful too. Wonderful enough to find a real Dramok to commit to, the Dramok he deserved to be the clanmate of.
Ilid sat up and rested his back against the lounger’s padded backrest. “I encountered the Darks during my service to the fleet. They took control of my ship. The officers, a lot of the crew, the medical staff…” He thought of Umen standing next to him, a laser cutter in his hand. “I can see the Darks. They wanted to know why, so they experimented on me.”
“Mother of All,” Mitag breathed, gaping in horror. “Why haven’t I heard of this?”
“I was on a spyship in a place a Kalquorian presence wasn’t supposed to be.”
He watched as the pieces clicked together for Mitag. “Bi’is? You were there when…when they were killed off?”
“Maybe. I’m uncertain what was happening on the planet while my ship was under the Darks’ domination.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone of your mission.”
“Honestly, I no longer care who knows.”
Mitag gazed at him, compassion pouring from his eyes. “You were among the first to witness the presence of the Darks, weren’t you?”
“Unfortunately. I watched men I knew and trusted become utter strangers. I was surrounded by the Darks’ shadows. If my rank hadn’t been so low, my job so unimportant, they would have grabbed me too. Instead, I was forced to see things that made no sense.”
“To have encountered the utterly unknown, to have watched commanding officers and shipmates turn into hostile people draped in shadows…” Mitag shook his head. “You must have thought you were going insane.”
He got it. Ilid relaxed at his reaction.
“Obviously, I managed to escape. Mostly. A part of me is still on my former vessel though. Maybe it always will be.”
“How did you get away?”
“An Imdiko orderly helped. They got him when we were caught trying to reveal the Darks to the empire, to warn Kalquor of the hostile presence.” He swallowed, remembering Darir disappearing under a tide of furious Darks. “My ship blew up as I raced off in a shuttle. I was the only survivor.”
Fresh horror dawned on Mitag’s features. “I’m so sorry, Ilid.”
“I have nightmares, some worse than tonight’s. When I’m awake, I can’t stop searching for the damned Darks no matter where I go.” Even as he spoke, Ilid’s gaze swept the well-furnished room displaying Mitag’s good taste. The initial hint of morning had begun to gray the sky beyond the Imdiko’s window. The room had a few shadows, but they were mundane. Nonthreatening. He stared at each in turn anyway.
Mitag moved so his face filled Ilid’s view. “Darks haven’t infiltrated Haven. The officials here have protocols to keep them out, people standing guard. We have women who can hear them and those like you who can see them. We’re always on alert. No one comes to the planet unless they’ve been thoroughly vetted.”
“I understand that. It’s why the fleet sent me here when my parents thought up the idea of opening a bakery for me to manage. This is their grand plan so I won’t try again to kill myself because I can’t handle what the Darks did to me.”
Mitag’s eyes brightened. He whispered Ilid’s name.
Ilid shook his head. “I’m no real Dramok. I’m weak, Mitag. So terribly weak. Certainly not a Dramok any Imdiko should be the clanmate of. If that’s what you’re hoping for from me, forget it. Find a real leader.”
Mitag’s heart ached. It physically hurt to learn the pain this haunted man lived with and the confidence he’d lost.
“I don’t see weakness.” He scooted closer to Ilid. “I see a survivor. An incredibly strong survivor who’s finding his way back after going through a horror I can’t imagine.”
“You wouldn’t say so after a few weeks of being woken by my screams.” Ilid’s gaze shifted for a moment to a point beyond Mitag’s shoulder. Checking for Darks.
Those who can see them do so in their peripheral vision. It cleared up the mystery of why Ilid struggled to meet Mitag’s gaze for more than a few seconds at a time.
“Ilid, listen. I have nightmares too. Hell, I sleepwalk on occasion. You have no idea how often I wake in my closet, thanks to my silly brain sending me into hiding from night terrors.” He debated saying more, but it was wrong to talk about himself when his friend suffered. “Waking me up screaming isn’t as big a deal as you worrying yourself sick.”
“I upset you. Admit it; I scared the hell out of you.”
“I’ve had worse scares. Believe me.”
Again, it wasn’t right to discuss his own issues at the moment. Ilid had revealed his secret to Mitag. He’d trusted him with the raw wounds in need of healing.
Mitag willed his suffering friend to realize he was all the Dramok he needed to be. A Dramok deserving of respect and clanmates. Of a life of joy, absent of fear.
Mitag wasn’t sure he’d get to be this man’s clanmate. He wasn’t sure he’d was someone Ilid would want once he emerged from the fog of trauma blinding him to his worth. It didn’t matter. Mitag was an Imdiko, a man built to care and assist. He’d do so for the despairing Ilid as long as he was allowed.
His therapist on Kalquor had told Mitag damaged hearts called to damaged hearts, especially where Imdikos were concerned. “Our breed tends to put others before ourselves. When an Imdiko feels someone hurts as he does, it isn’t merely an opportunity to help him. It can serve as a mirror image of our own pain and loss. Therefore, if an Imdiko can aid another sufferer, his subconscious might tell him it’ll bring him comfort too.”
Mitag had been looking for such a connection for a long time. He felt he’d found it in Detodev, and now, Ilid.
He experienced a twinge of conscience as he offered the full thrust of compassion to calm Ilid from his nightmare, because some of it was for his own selfish need. Their circumstances were different, but he saw his own hurt in the Dramok just the same. Mitag wanted to heal him. He wanted to be healed.
Let me help you. Let me have this important step toward the only thing I want in this whole universe, the one thing I haven’t been given since I was small. Give me a someone to care for and care for me in return.
The seconds spun past, and Ilid remained silent. Mitag continued to simply sit there gripping his shoulder, pouring understanding and empathy.
The Dramok drew a breath. “For the most part, Haven feels good. I like the people I’ve met.” His gaze found Mitag and held it. “Why can’t everywhere be like this? Why does horror have to exist?”
Mitag offered the first option that came to mind. “If bad situations don’t show their ugly faces, we don’t recognize and appreciate the wonderful moments.”
A slow smile tinged by sadness stretched Ilid’s lips. “You could be right. Before I fell asleep, I enjoyed hearing you gossip about the locals. You made me laugh. For a couple of hours, I forgot how awful things can be. It was wonderful.”
“For me too. Hey, do you want another round of bohut and spicy rumors? I haven’t told you about the former Earther nun whom I was told left Sunrise to establish a sex club in another district. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s where part of the plot for Cow Patties in Paradise came from.”
Ilid chuckled. “Your arsenal of scandalous tales is unending as well as amusing. You aren’t too tired?”
“I’m up for awhile,” the Imdiko reassured him, eager to keep him smiling.
“To be honest, I don’t think I can go back to sleep tonight. I sure as hell don’t want to face my parents if they heard me come in at such an hour. My mother especially.” He reddened. “She’s desperate for me to find a clan.”
Mitag teased…carefully. “Oh, a matchmaker mom. I like her already.”
“I adore her, but she’s a bit much. Especially at this time of night.” There was a warning in his tone, telling Mitag not to push him on the subject. When he kept silent, Ilid relaxed. “If you’re really up for it, drinking and stories would be welcome.”
Mitag jumped up and headed for the bar. He did his best to ignore the flame of hope burning in his chest as he launched into his story. “Okay, so a former nun came to Haven a couple of years ago. Older woman, looked at everyone like they were going straight to Earther hell...”