25. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
W illa
I’m waiting at the gangway as Stryker and Dax rush Bayne up the ramp on a hover-stretcher. I’ve been standing here since Zar comm’d and told me Bayne had called for retrieval and only gotten out the word ‘come’ before the comm ended.
Aerie’s been at my side for the last hour, holding my hand because I’ve lost my mind waiting for them to bring him back to me.
Dr. Drayke is here, medpad in hand, ready to start diagnostics the moment he’s onboard.
“Zar!” It’s either Axxios or Braxxus’s voice over the overhead comm. I can’t tell the twin pilots’ voices apart. “A fleet of six harriers is coming in fast. As soon as the door closes, we’ll launch into hyperdrive.”
When the hatch closes, I grab the top bar of the hover-stretcher as we race to medbay. I’m glad I’m holding on when I feel the distinctive lurch as we shift into hyperdrive.
Bayne is pale. And covered in blood. The skin on his chest is charred; some of the pelt high on his shoulders is singed. Worse, though, is the gaping wound in his belly. It’s three inches wide with jagged edges and appears to have bled profusely although it’s not bleeding now.
I want to ask Dr. Drayke a thousand questions, but one glance at his serious face and his swift fingers flying over his pad tells me it’s more important for him to tend to my male than to answer me.
My male. Yes, there it is. Bayne is my male. I love him and he loves me. And bonus! WarDog is a two-hundred-pound lovebug who’s a great addition to the mix. The male I love, though, looks like if they don’t run faster he’ll die of blood loss on the stretcher before they reach medbay.
Dr. Drayke is an amazing male. He’s supremely competent and has the kindest bedside manner of any doctor I’ve ever met. The fact that he’s not calmly reassuring me makes my heart race. I’ve seen him with other males’ mates when they’ve come back on board with an injury from a match. He’s kind and unflappable and tells them not to worry.
No comforting platitudes are escaping his mouth now.
Aerie is following us, but Drayke won’t let her into medbay.
“I only need essential personnel. And of course you, Willa.”
Drayke’s mate, Nova is here. She’s been training as a nurse. They have a telepathic link and can move so swiftly as the perfect team that it’s a joy to watch them. There’s no joy today, though. My top teeth nibble my bottom lip as I press my back against the wall to get out of the way and watch Drayke give orders to the medbot while Nova cleans his chest wound.
“The belly’s the worst,” Drayke says out loud for my benefit. “The laser to the chest isn’t serious. Well . . .” he pauses as he checks readings on his medpad, “it is serious, but it's the abdominal wound that’s the real worry. Internal damage and bleeding could . . .”
Maybe I overrated his bedside manner skills. He did not reassure me.
I stand motionless for two hours while the medical team and the medbot do what they can. Bayne’s beautiful face is pale and immobile as they rush to patch him up.
About an hour into the procedure, I realized I could hover over his right shoulder and still be out of the way. My fingers lodge into the pelt there. When I used to pet him like this in his canine form I always told myself it comforted him. But that’s partially a lie. It gives me comfort. My fingers feel at home in his soft fur.
I’ve been watching Drayke and Nova’s expressions. They don’t need to talk out loud for me to know they’re concerned. Nova’s amber eyes are especially expressive. She’s not optimistic.
“There’s nothing more for us to do right now, Willa,” Drayke says. “The bleeding has stopped, the damage has been repaired, and the blood he lost is being replaced. Time will tell. I’ll sleep in the lab next door tonight. Why don’t you sleep in your own bed?”
“Would you sleep in your own bed if Nova was lying on this operating table, Doc?”
He flashes me a small smile. “That’s not a hypothetical, Willa. Nova was in my medbay when we first met. I did not sleep in my own bed.”
They look at each other with the most tender expression. They are so happily mated I used to envy them when I watched them together in the dining room. They can’t keep their hands off each other.
“I’ll roll a bed in here from one of the other rooms. You can sleep just inces from Bayne. I understand.”
The sympathetic look he flashes does not inspire optimism.
A few minutes later, they’ve washed off the blood, covered Bayne in a clean sheet and blanket, and left me here alone with my male. I shove the bed next to his, lie down, and stroke the bare arm nearest me.
I haven’t prayed in a long time, but I do now.
Bayne
Awareness rises in my head like the slow dawn of the sun. My first conscious thought is to wonder where I am, then I hear WarDog’s persistent chuffing. He’s close, sitting stiffly, his worried eyes watching me intently. At the first sign of my waking, his tail thumps and he licks my face with unbridled enthusiasm. Even in my mind, it’s warm and welcoming, if somewhat sloppy.
You seem awfully happy to see me. I laugh and pull him close for a fierce hug.
I am. I thought you’d heal faster than you did. I could smell Willa’s fear and sorrow, and I could not reach her.
Heal? I release him and look down his body for signs of injury .
Not me, you. Remember Khour? He asks. The laser? The statue in your stomach?
It all rushes back to me. The most prevalent feeling isn’t pain, but satisfaction as I remember every moment of our battle with Khour. The revenge was a decade in the making. If people across the galaxy knew, there would be tens of thousands of them cheering what WarDog and I accomplished in that living room.
Willa? I ask.
WarDog’s tail thumps as he says, She hasn’t left our side since we were transported back on board. She’s our mate, right? We need to mate her.
Yes. We will.
I force my eyes open and see Willa at my right. There she is, sleeping in a bed that’s pulled next to mine. I pause, wondering if I should wake her. I know she’d want me to wake her the moment I wake up.
“Willa, my love. Wake up.”
Her eyes pop open, and a wide smile replaces her initial startle response. The way she scoots next to me reminds me of the way WarDog wiggles to get closer to her. It’s endearing. My heart warms at the happiness in her eyes.
“How are you feeling?” she asks as she feathers a hank of hair off my forehead.
“Fine.”
“I’m surprised you’re up so soon. Not that long ago, Dr. Drayke wasn’t sure you’d make it.”
I assumed as much. The look of concern on her face, her brown eyes filled with worry, tells me all I need to know about my condition.
“Skylosians heal fast. If my eyes are open, I’ll be fine.”
The doctor enters briskly from the adjoining lab, medpad in hand. He hides his initial surprise at seeing me awake, then conducts some readings. After setting the pad down, he grabs another as he says, “Looks like this one’s broken. You couldn’t have recovered that quickly.” He fiddles with the pad, his face looking increasingly amazed, then says, “Speedy recovery is an understatement. Is it a shifter trait? Looks like you’ve made a full recovery.”
He unwraps the bandages on my chest and stomach and shakes his head, his eyebrows lifted in astonishment. “I would love to run more tests to find out what is in your blood or genetics that accelerates the healing.” He has that excited look a youngling gets with a new toy.
I shrug. “My species heals quickly.”
Drayke performs a few more tests, then says, “I still don’t understand what I’m seeing, but at this point, you’re just taking up space in my medbay. I can study the results of these tests later. You’re fine. Zar asked to see you the moment you woke. Think you can talk if he comes to medbay?”
“Yes, as long as my Willa can stay.”
Mate , WarDog insists.
Soon , I reassure him as I gulp down two glasses of water while we wait for Zar.
Within minimas both Captain Zar and Captain Beast enter my room and squeeze against the wall across from my bed. The room is small and the two enormous males make it feel even smaller.
“We were relieved to hear you’ve recovered,” Zar says with a smile. I always have to look at his eyes when he wears this expression, not knowing whether he’s snarling or smiling. His eyes look genuinely happy to see me. “We want to know what happened on Fairea.”
“Willa, would you mind finding me some food? I’m starving,” I say when I realize the last thing I want is for her to hear the details of what WarDog and I did in that mansion.
“Sure. I’ll leave the room. That’s what you’re asking, right? Do you really want food?” Out of anyone else’s mouth, that would be sarcastic, but she’s serious. She called it compassionate forgiveness. I believe she’ll be granting it to me often—I’m a lucky male.
“I am hungry, Willa. And yes, I’m asking you to leave the room.”
“I’ll take my time,” she says and kisses me without embarrassment in front of not one but two captains. WarDog proudly shifts his weight from paw to paw as we both realize the kiss was a bold announcement of her feelings for me.
As soon as she leaves, I tell the males what happened. The further into the story I get, the more they both nod and smile.
“High five!” Beast says as he steps next to me and puts up his palm. When I look confused, he explains, “Aerie taught me. It’s a way of saying ‘good job’ on Earth.”
I slap his palm, enjoying being accepted as an equal.
“We’re going to call an all-hands meeting for this afternoon. We’d like you to be there.”
“Absolutely.”
After they leave, Willa returns with a sandwich. I eat ravenously and finish in mimimas . Now I’ve coaxed her to lie down next to me and we face each other.
Before I can speak, she says, “I was worried, Bayne. First I was terrified when they left you on the planet to deal with Khour alone, then even more so when they brought you back on a stretcher. I promised myself many things while you’ve been in medbay.”
I breathe in her sweet scent and WarDog ince s closer. He’s so bonded to her. Her gentle fingers stroking his fur make his life worth living. Guilt slices through me when I recall how I banished him. I reinforce the promise I made to him and myself that I won’t do it again.
Thank you, WarDog says with a happy chuff and perks his ears forward to hear Willa while his tail is thumping in a frenzy of delight and anticipation.
“What things did you promise yourself, Love?”
“That making you and a certain furry someone happy is the most important thing in my life. That if I were lucky enough to have you come back to me I’d never let a day go by where I didn’t show you how much I love you both.” WarDog’s tail is wagging so hard his back end is doing a happy dance. I can’t help but smile at his exuberance and joy.
She sees my smile and presses her palm to my cheek. I turn my head to kiss her hand. Then her fingers lodge in the pelt at my shoulders. She loves to pet me there.
“It was selfish of me to stay on Fairea and fight Khour, Willa. I know it terrified you. I—”
“I understand, Bayne. I do. Even though I was terrified I was going to lose you, I’m also proud of you for holding fast to your convictions. You succeeded in ridding the universe of one of its most ruthless and dangerous males.
“He wouldn’t stop. He continued to threaten our lives and take away the freedom we’ve all fought so hard to achieve. When everyone else was ready to admit defeat, you and WarDog persisted and won. I couldn't be prouder of you both.”
My chest expands in pride as WarDog and I bask in our mate’s praise.
“All that’s behind us now. We can both just look ahead. You said you’d be my mate. Do you still mean it?”
“Yes.” She snuggles closer and kisses me. It’s a chaste kiss, but it promises so much more.
Willa
Even though Bayne was at death’s door yesterday, miraculously he’s fine now. He tells me it’s his shifter nature that allows him to heal quickly. Wow, it would be amazing to be able to do that.
He pulls me onto his lap as we wait for the meeting to begin. I have no complaints. Besides, it’s standing room only in here. Between the inhabitants of both ships, the women from the dorm, and seven of the eight males who had been locked in that horrible underground dungeon, we’ve got a full house. Even though most are still too weak to be up for more than a few hours, all of them wanted to be here.
“Thank you all for coming,” Zar says, a clutch of handwritten notes in his hand. “A few announcements first, some recreation I think you all will enjoy, then we have serious business to discuss.
“First I want to thank all the males of both ships who risked their lives on the mission yesterday. What a great success that all of Khour’s males at the compound were eliminated and we were able to rescue the males and females who are with us today.
“The evil Daneur Khour, the male responsible for the capture, pain, and torture of almost everyone here and thousands more across the universe, died a death he deserved.”
“Good wishes and profound thanks to Bayne, our very own WarDog, who killed the dracker with his own hands—and teeth—and escaped death.”
The noise of cheers, clapping, and stomping feet erupts in the room. Every male in the room stands, faces Bayne, nods, and thumps his chest with his fist in the gladiator show of respect. Bayne’s humble nod of acceptance has my eyes filling with tears of pride.
When everyone settles down, Zar continues, “Many of you have asked about Wrage who was injured in the attack on Fairea. In case anyone failed to notice, he’s recovering well and is with us today.”
He nods toward the Wryth’N male who looks to be in great health when he stands and, just to show how strong he is, lifts his mate Elyse, who squeals in surprise. Although the group bursts with laughter, by the look on Elyse’s face, he’s going to get reamed out for that little stunt when they return to the cabin they share.
“Regarding So’Lan, the Ton’Arran we rescued from the dungeon, Dr. Drayke says the male is still in . . .” Zar shuffles through his notes, “critical condition. For those of you who have a relationship with your Gods, I’m sure the male would welcome your prayers.”
The room grows silent for a moment. Every one of us has heard of the deplorable conditions in which he and all those males were held. It’s brutally obvious looking at the emaciated, injured, and sickly males scattered throughout the room. The women we rescued look to be in better physical condition, but their hollow eyes suggest there’s more to the story.
I can hardly fathom what they all have been through. I know many in this room can relate to the abuse they’ve endured. I imagine I’m not the only one thinking, ‘there but for the grace of God go I’. We’re all so lucky to be free. And now liberated from the MarZan cartel that has been pursuing us and preventing us from feeling the true peace of freedom.
“I thought we’d all enjoy a bit of entertainment. I believe there isn’t a soul in the room who wasn’t abused or terrorized by Daneur Khour and the MarZan cartel. We pulled the vid feed from the mansion.
“Anya told me to warn you . . .” After consulting his notes, he says, “This is R-rated and those of you with . . .” he shuffles again, “weak stomachs may want to close your eyes or step out of the room. That’s because we’re going to watch what Bayne and WarDog did in that mansion on Fairea. It was all recorded.”
He peers over his sheaf of papers at the audience. None of us get up to leave.
“Willa, you won’t like this,” Bayne says. “Please leave.”
“Why? You won. I may see you injured, but I know the ending. You got your revenge.”
“I . . .”His mouth works, but no words come out; he’s distressed.“I was bloodthirsty. You won’t love me after you see this. Please step out.” His lids slam shut as if he’s remembering something he’d rather forget.
Frankly, I’d love to see that bastard Khour get what he deserved. Not only was he directly or indirectly responsible for enslaving me and everyone on board, but what he did to those males they carried up from under the ground? That alone should earn him the very-excruciating-death-penalty. But Bayne doesn’t want me to watch, so I won’t. I don’t want to cause him any more pain. I give him a swift kiss on the lips and say, “Nothing you could do to that bastard would be bloodthirsty enough, in my opinion, but I’ll step out.”
I make my way through the double doors and wait until the vid is over and the appreciative catcalls, wild applause, and stomping die out, then return to sit back on his lap.
“You have a good male,” one of the women calls to me as I make my way through the audience to Bayne. Several women vehemently agree.
I glance at Shadow. Word has it that Khour was indirectly responsible for the loss of his eye and arm as well as for his parents selling him into slavery. His nostrils are flared and he’s breathing heavily. Petra’s holding his hand as if her life depends on it, but in actuality, she is his lifeline.
“I’d like a copy of the vid,” he murmurs to Zar. “I’d like to watch it one or two hundred more times.”
Now that I’m seated, all I can see is his back. His shoulders are still heaving as he breathes heavily. “I hope this gives him the closure he needs,” I whisper to Bayne.
Zar must have amazing hearing, because he says, “Sextus also mentioned getting closure when we sent a copy of the vid to our pirate friends.”
The two captains now get to the heart of the matter. We have to decide what to do with the new souls aboard our ships. There are a thousand details involved in the logistics of absorbing so many new people.
After an hour of discussion, a plan begins to form. None of the new males or females are particularly keen on roaming the galaxy on either of our vessels. I think we’re all in agreement on that because most of us were wondering how we could assimilate so many people at once—none of whom appear to have any skills that would be helpful to us. Besides, none of the males have fully recuperated yet.
Only one male thinks he might be welcomed back onto his home planet. He’ll contact them soon and one of the ships will reunite him with his kin if that’s the plan. The others were either sold into slavery by their families or will be outcasts when they return after such long incarcerations. Of course, we all know none of the Earth women can return home.
There’s a perfectly good compound on Fairea. Shadow is confident he could forge a bill of sale giving us rightful ownership. It has a fully-equipped medical facility, a ludus , space vessels, gardens, and plenty of housing. These people could be self-sufficient in the compound if they want, but they’re also close to hospitals, markets, and merchants.
One of the males informed us he’s a trained medic and will be able to continue the care Dr. Drayke started for all the males and females who will settle there. There are many settlements on Fairea, including the one that has the Renaissance-like fair. So everyone has the freedom to stay in the compound or relocate somewhere else.
Most of the newcomers are so traumatized they can’t think much farther than having a safe place to sleep every night, but a few mentioned they might have skills that will come in handy on the planet. Dawn, a perky girl with the slightest southern accent asked if she could raise chickens. If circumstances were different, we could probably be friends.
There’s a great deal of discussion, especially about the fact that they all experienced abuse of some sort down there.
“The land didn’t harm us, nor did the buildings,” Abraxx says. He seems to be in the best shape of all the rescued gladiators. He has thick ropes of flesh on his head instead of hair. “And the people who did harm us are dead.” He’s not a big talker, but he seems particularly happy to have said that last sentence.
“We can put all that behind us,” Naomi says as she primly sits in her chair, acting as if it’s a throne. She’s the oldest on board, looking to be in her 40s. “There are numerous ways for us to earn money there, and the compound is easily defensible, that’s why Khour owned it.”
One of the other new women, Melodie, mentioned Naomi had regular private meetings with Khour. Although she looks innocent, something tells me there’s more to her than meets the eye.
Soon, all the newcomers are in agreement with the idea of claiming the compound on Fairea as their own. No one feels trapped or without choices, which was the deciding factor for everyone.
“All right,” Zar says seriously as he reorganizes his papers, “let’s put this to a vote.”
Although I wouldn’t have thought a room full of this many people could arrive at a unanimous decision, that’s exactly what happens.
“We’ve been through a lot,” Dawn, one of the new women says, her voice pregnant with unspoken meaning, “I've been researching Fairea since I’ve boarded the ship. Humans aren’t illegal there. Perhaps once we get our shit together we could be a beacon of hope for not just humans, but any who escape their cruel masters. I’d like to call our new home Sanctuary.”
A little thrill zings through me as I imagine what it would feel like if I hadn’t been rescued. If I had been a slave on some planet with an awful master and one day someone whispered the word ‘sanctuary’ to me. It would be like a secret hope I could nurture in my heart. It would have given me the will to survive, the desire to live.
“I love the name,” I say loudly. It’s my first comment of the day, but I repeat it, “I love it.”
While everyone is agreeing, Beast interrupts to say, “We’ve got our work cut out for us. We want the newcomers to have the best start possible. We’re not leaving this sector until the compound is clean and functional.”
“If I’d known this was going to happen,” Stryker announces loudly, “I wouldn’t have painted every wall in every room with my enemy’s arterial spray.”
Gross as that is, I find it hilarious. So does everyone else.
“ H ow come we’re the lucky ones assigned to this room?” I ask as I look around Daneur Khour’s bedroom—or what’s left of it.
“You saw yourself that they pulled names out of a kitchen pot.”
“I still wonder if they rigged it somehow,” I grouse.
“Consider yourself lucky that a few of the gladiators volunteered to remove all the bodies first.”
“Right. Glass half full.”
He cocks his head with a quizzical look.
“There’s always something to be thankful for,” I amend.
Although there are no dead bodies in this room, there's a lot of blood. From where the wooden wall was sprayed with laser fire, there are enough shards to build a life-sized model of the empire state building.
“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” I say, even though I know Bayne won’t understand a word of it. This is our fourth day on Fairea and all we’ve done is clean up the mess from the attack. My arms ache and I’m sick of the sight—and smell—of blood.
“We’re making progress,” Bayne says without complaint.
“I know, but when we hovered past the Fair area I thought it would be fun to attend. All we’ve been doing is working.”
He says nothing, just keeps shoveling wood chips into trash bags, but I suddenly listen to the words coming out of my mouth. I’m complaining about a little cleanup work when the males I care about almost lost their lives here? I clamp my whiney little lips together and redouble my efforts.
“I like everyone on the Fool’s Errand ,” Bayne says abruptly. He’s not a big talker, so I have a feeling something important is coming. “Same with the Devil’s Playground .”
“Me, too.”
“But I’m thinking we have an opportunity we should consider. All the new people will be staying on Fairea, and I’m wondering if we should stay, too.”
I shove the last of Daneur Khour’s clothes into a trash bag and turn to look at Bayne.
“I think I would like it here. We could make a home for ourselves. WarDog could run and play. I could hunt. We could create . . . a family here. It wouldn’t work as well on a ship; that would be hard for canines.” His gaze pierces mine. He’s serious.
“You’ve given this a lot of thought,” I hedge. Then I wonder why this hasn’t already occurred to me. I’m a farm girl—born and bred. I like to tend herds of animals and gardens. There was nothing—not one job—that was a fit for me on the Fool .
And WarDog. Of course, the big lug would do better gamboling in a forest than traipsing the metal corridors of a ship.
Bayne must think I hate the idea, because he presses on. “We don’t know any of these people, but we will. We didn’t know anyone on the Fool's Errand or the Devil’s Playground a few lunars ago either. This will give us both a fresh start.” He looks at me, his golden eyes alight with passion.
My mind bounces back to one word he used—family.
“Create a family, Bayne? We’ve never talked about it.”
His jaw slackens and his face falls. “You don’t want babes?” he asks, incredulous and sad. His gaze flicks back and forth across my face as if he’s trying to discover if perhaps he read me wrong.
“Yes, I want babes. I want happy babes and mischievous toddlers and sullen teens. I want it all. And I want pets, and herds of animals that would be right at home in all those barns and fields, and corrals out there.
“And I want you, Bayne.” I add softly, “You promised me a mating ceremony.” I want to press my palm to his beautiful cheek, but don’t want to sully him with a hand that just touched something belonging to Daneur Khour.
“Yes, Love. It just seemed you were so tired every night from cleaning up the compound.”
I pout, wondering if he’ll laugh at my hurt feelings, but he takes me seriously. “Tonight,” he promises. “No matter how tired we might be, we’ll mate tonight.”
He steps over a pile of pillows, gently lifts my chin with one finger, and leans to kiss me.
“Yes, Love, tonight.” Happiness bolts through me.
“ S o this big mating ceremony we’ve been putting off, it involves no other people?”
“No.”
“No officiant?”
“No.”
“But we’ll be taking off our clothes?” I lift one eyebrow and notice funny feelings swirling in my tummy, and below. We’re kind of joking, but it also feels like foreplay.
“No clothes will be worn during this ceremony,” he nods seriously.
“In your culture it’s the sex that binds you? But we’ve already had sex.”
He takes a deep breath. No, I’d call it heaving a sigh.
“You’re not inspiring confidence, Bayne.”
“On Skylose, mates in my tribe have sex, and during sex the male bites the female. It’s at that moment the two develop a mindlink they share for eternity. The few males of my tribe who mated with Skylosian non-shifters turned their mates into shifters this way.”
He pauses a moment for that thought to sink in. He’s still waiting for my response, but nothing is sinking in. Mindlink? Is that a psychic connection? Okay, that might be cool. Didn’t I envy Dr. Drayke and Nova? I saw them working on Bayne and thought it was amazing how they communicated wordlessly like a well-oiled machine.
But shifting? I’d be a . . . dog? A very big dog? I remember the pain he was in after he shifted on Aeon II.
“Will it hurt?”
“To be honest, I don’t know if you’ll shift. You’re not from Skylose. I don’t even know if we’ll develop the mindlink.”
I look at my sweet mate as we sit at the little corner table in the cabin we share. Could I love him any more than I already do? I can’t imagine it. Would I change even one thing about him if I could? Absolutely not. If he came to me as a mate without his inner canine, would that be better? No! Instead of making our relationship richer, it would be poorer, by far.
I love all of our differences—his pointed ears, those canine teeth, his pelt of fur. If this is the way of his people, then it will be my way, too. I secretly hope the shift doesn’t hurt, but if it does, I’ll embrace that too. The sacrifices I’m willing to make for him will be my way of declaring my deep and abiding love for him.
“I already said yes to being your mate, Bayne. But now that you’ve given me full disclosure I give full consent. I’d be honored.”
I never thought his eyes could look more golden, but they do. They shine brightly for me.
“Part of the mating is for you to tell this to WarDog,” he says seriously.
I’m surprised. I’ve never been sure how much Bayne understands in his canine form—how sentient he is.
“I’m all-in,” I tell him with a smile and a nod.
Bayne steps out of his chair, removes his clothes, crouches, then turns into my favorite hound. I recall the first shift I witnessed, when he morphed from canine to humanoid in the dark catacombs on Aeon II. It was painful and left him panting on the filthy floor.
This shift is easy, and a happy two-hundred-pound animal greets me with a huge canine smile. He wanders over, sits between my feet, and puts his front paws in my lap. His mouth is slightly open, and he’s looking at me expectantly. As momma used to say, ‘somebody’s home and the lights are on’. There’s a smart being inside that shaggy head.
“I love you, WarDog.” I don’t feel silly saying this. In fact, it feels right.
He licks the back of my hand where I’m holding his paw, then nuzzles me with the depth of affection he’s shown me since the first moment we met on that abominable slaver ship. I might not have received all the love he gave me from the start, but I realize he’s always bombarded me with it.
“I’m going to be so happy to be your mate, too.”
He chuffs, then as quickly as he appeared, Bayne reappears.
I’m not even sure how I wind up on his lap. But I’m here in the heavenly warmth of his embrace. His cock kicks hard at my hip, and his mouth devours me, his tongue excavating the warm depths of my mouth.
We’ve been honeymooners for days—or as he would say, sweetmooners—exploring each other, learning each other's secret places, how to prolong our ecstasy, and the words that elevate the mundane to the incendiary.
Somehow I think we’re about to take our physical relationship to a whole new level, although I wonder how that’s even possible.
I straddle him in the small chair, not caring for either of our comfort, needing only some means of getting closer. His jutting cock presses the seam of my sex as I ride him, my fingers biting into the pelt on his shoulders.
Sex is different with Bayne. I love the delight he bestows, but he’s the first sex partner I’ve had where his pleasure is infinitely more important to me than my own.
“Tell me what you want, Love,” I demand as I arch my back, thrusting my breasts in his face. He has to be able to see my hardened nipples through my bra and t-shirt. “Want it hard? Soft? Fast? Slow? Quiet? Or do you want words?”
He gives me that lambent look that hints WarDog is as close to the surface as his inner being can get. I’m mating them both. I understand it now. I embrace it.
Instead of a verbal answer, he shows me as his calloused palm caresses my nape, his head bends to my level, and he kisses me as long and sweet and slow as two people can kiss.
Slow and silent—I get it. That’s what he wants, that’s what he shall have. My tongue greets his with lingering, heartfelt strokes. What’s going on above the waist is achingly sweet and intimate. What’s going on below the waist, however, is carnal as I feel every pull and drag of his hardened cock on my clit.
One minute more of this, two at the most, and I’ll be announcing my first orgasm of the evening with a moan—and I’m still fully clothed.
He knows the minutiae of my response cycle better than lovers I’ve had for years. Maybe he’s more attentive than anyone I've ever shared a bed with, or maybe it’s that canine nose. It doesn’t matter, I want him more right this minute than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
He scoops me into his muscular arms and carries me to the bed, but sets me on the floor when we’re inches away. He pulls off my plain black t-shirt and bra with the utmost care, as if it’s part of a religious rite. Perhaps it is.
Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of my pants and panties, he sweeps them down and pulls them off me, letting them lie on the floor near my top.
He takes my hand and leads us to the bed, making certain that we're both even, not wanting to take the lead tonight. We’re coming together consciously. Both of us are making the choice to mate for life. It doesn’t scare me like the idea of ‘until death do you part’ did on Earth. I welcome it.
I lie on the bed and he straddles my waist. While kissing and nibbling my throat, he arouses the hardened nubs of my breasts until I’m incapable of thought. Then he places himself at my entrance. I’m so slick, so ready, he could slide in to the hilt in one swift move.
But it isn’t like that tonight. He thrusts so slowly I can feel each of his bulges as they breach my entrance.
“That’s right, Bayne. Welcome home.” I glance at him and catch the smile that flickers on his lips. This male loves me, and my acceptance of him and everything he is is magic. For both of us.
He develops a rhythm so slow it’s maddening, but like everything else tonight, I embrace it.
I feel the tingle of impending orgasm whirling in my belly. He feels it too, or maybe it’s his sixth sense. Instead of forging ahead, though, he slows, then stops and drops a kiss on my lips.
“This way,” he says as he pulls out long enough to flip me over onto my stomach, then lifts me by my hip bones.
Of course, I should have known this would be doggy style. How fitting.
He slides back into me in one quick thrust as if we were never apart. The moment changes. Instead of feeling like we should be in a cathedral, we’re solidly in lust territory now. The long, slow thrusts are a memory as he slams into me. Only one hand holds me up from under my stomach, he’s using the other to circle my clit.
My orgasm is building, and I can tell it’s going to be a lightning storm of need and pleasure. Then his jaw clamps onto my shoulder. At first, his teeth are covered by his warm lips, but when I begin rocking back against him, trying to bury him into the depths of me, he exposes them and the sharp tips of his fangs make themselves known.
It pricks. I wouldn’t even call it pain. I’m not sure this is the bite he warned me about, or if there’s more to come.
My orgasm is swirling and building, ready to explode, and I hear my own grunts as I press back against him as hard as I can, trying to push myself over the edge.
When the first spasm starts, his teeth press more deeply into my flesh. He warned me, and he was right. It hurts. The pain is so sharp my orgasm decides to retreat for a second. Then an explosion of bliss blasts through me.
It’s so powerful that if one of his arms wasn’t still holding me up I would collapse on the bed. White lightning flashes inside my head. I feel it in my brain, which detonates pleasure bombs exploding in chain reactions from the top of my head to the soles of my feet.
I was so busy rocketing to the clouds that I missed his ejaculation, but I realize now that he came a moment ago. I feel his warmth inside me—liquid proof that what just happened was real.
It’s his saliva, or maybe his come or maybe the combination that set off an atomic bomb of bliss inside me. It doesn’t matter. It’s rapture. It’s heaven. It’s more pleasure than the human mind could imagine. He releases his teeth from my shoulder and licks the spot with soothing strokes even though the pain has long since vanished.
That good, Love?
“Wh-What?”
Just feel, my beautiful Willa. Just feel.
My internal muscles are still spasming as I’m dancing in the clouds when I realize my mate just spoke to me inside my head.
I love you, Bayne. Give me just a moment to enjoy every second of this.
And he does, still pumping into me in little pulses, drawing out the aftershocks of my pleasure. We’re tied. I love this part. The enforced strokes and cuddles and the biologically imposed intimacy.
Biology doesn’t have to force me to love you and stroke you, mate. I would do that whether we were tied or not.
Although I’m still panting, I’m breathing slower, deeper, returning to the here and now.
Precious, he says.
Beloved is my response. When do I turn into a canine? I was scared to death of it, but now I can’t wait.
When he doesn’t respond, I glance over my shoulder to look at him.
With Skylosians you would have turned by now, Love.
A wave of sadness unexpectedly gusts over me. We’re so connected—mentally and physically—that I can’t differentiate whether this is his sorrow or my own.
I’m so blessed to have you as a mate, Willa. I’m not sad.
We have a lot to learn, Bayne. The first thing I’m learning is that it’s going to be hard to lie to each other. You’re sad, so am I. It’s okay to admit it.
“Let’s give it time, Love. You’re not Skylosian.”
The swelling of his penis reduces, and he pulls out so he can turn me in his arms. He kisses my forehead as if I’m the most precious thing in the universe.
We have this, he says, this mental link. And we have each other.
He’s so right. A few months ago we were bound for a slave auction without a friend in the world and nothing in our future but misery. I’ve found a way to contribute doing something I love. I have two males who love me and whose only desire is to protect me. We have friends and love and more blessings than we can count.
I lean to kiss Bayne’s nose. Before I knew there was a Bayne, this is how I kissed WarDog. I got over the fact that it wasn’t hygienic the first day I met him. It’s our special thing. “I love you too, WarDog.”
Love.
Is that you, Wardog? Really? We can communicate?
Yes. You’re mine, Willa. My forever mate. I’ve loved you since the first moment we met.
And I you, big guy. And I you.