22. Chapter 22
Four khadahrs peeled away from the group, stealing the breath from my lungs. The way the light of the fire played over their powerful physiques, emphasizing the scars on their arms and chests, was nearly too much to take in. Each one appeared to have been sculpted, but only one of them stood out to me among the others: Ghan-Zahr; he was a god.
My throat was suddenly so dry I felt like I had swallowed sandpaper. The way his muscles rippled untamed underneath his skin brought back memories of our lovemaking by the pond. How good those arms had felt around me, him inside me. I wanted that. Again. And again.
He wasn't the only thing holding me under a spell, though. It was the entire atmosphere as if I had stepped through time, back to when nomads roamed the lands and barbarians were kings. The flickering light of the fire, the myriad of stars in the sky—it had been a long time since I had seen a night sky like this. I had always loved the sky at night back in North Carolina, where my family lived. Denver had too many bright lights to make out stars at night, and I had been too occupied with my career to realize how much I had missed this. This simpler way of life. Where I could lean back and enjoy nature instead of chasing the next headline.
Speaking of headlines… my blood had been boiling all night. The more I learned about Vandruk, what had been done and was planned to be done, the more my fingers itched to write this story. To make the public see what IC was doing. Every fiber in my being rallied to fight. Fight for these people. For Ghan-Zahr.
After that was done, I wanted this. It was silly thinking I had found Mr. Right after only a few days, but something inside me told me that I had. There were so many signs. I didn't want to compare Ghan-Zahr to Trevor, but it was the easiest way to explain how much I had changed in this little bit of time. With Ghan-Zahr, I felt safe. With Trevor, I had felt trapped.
With Ghan-Zahr, I felt like I could lean back and allow him the lead, whereas whenever Trevor took the lead on something, it irritated the hell out of me. Ghan-Zahr and I communicated differently. One time, Trevor had kidnapped me for a weekend. He had just closed a big case, and I was in the middle of a story. He took me to a resort in the Caribbean, and all I wanted was my laptop. Here? I hadn't even thought about it since… since I got here. Ghan-Zahr had truly kidnapped me. He had taken me against my will to the last place I had ever wanted to go, but all I could do was lust after him. The way I should have lusted after Trevor—who admittingly didn't look bad in swim shorts—during our weekend away. Sex with Trevor had been… good. Nothing earth-shattering, but good. Ghan-Zahr? He was in an entirely different stratosphere. I feared that our one encounter had already ruined me for any man back on Earth.
As if sensing my thoughts about him, Ghan-Zahr's eyes zeroed in on me, creating ripples up and down my spine. The way he moved should have been impossible for a man his size, too graceful, like a panther, even though he was the size of a lion.
Hypnotized, I rose, noticing only peripherally that the other women did the same, just as mesmerized by their men as I was with mine. Mine! I swallowed.
But it was the truth. He was mine. I wanted him with every fiber of my being. I couldn't deny any longer that we belonged together.
His arms spread invitingly as I moved forward, and when my cheek pressed flush against his rock-hard chest, I was lost, and yet I was right where I belonged.
"Ghan-Zahr"." I lifted my head to meet his gaze.
"Rachel."
The way he said my name set my soul on fire. It was as if each syllable was a caress, a whisper of promises, of things to come. Of what we would be if only I said yes.
With trembling breath, I gave him the words he wanted to hear. "Yes, Ghan-Zahr. I'm yours."
In that moment, the world fell away; it was only him and me on this alien planet. His eyes sparked with a mixture of relief and joy as I surrendered to our connection, sealing our bond with my simple words.
His grip on me tightened, and his touch sparked an electric fire inside me. Raw power came off, a strength that both frightened and exhilarated me.
"Mine," he said as if tasting the word.
"Yours," I agreed.
A shriek brought us both back to reality and made me realize we weren't alone. Amber hugged Dzur-Khan, appearing as happy as a child on Christmas morning.
"She got the go-ahead to question Weidenhof," Gwyn explained with a wry expression on her face that tottered between amusement and dreadfulness.
"We will meet again in the morning," Tzar-Than announced, "after Amber has had time to talk to Weidenhof."
My head snapped toward Carl, tied to a tree. I could already picture how that conversation would go. Amber was certain that Weidenhof was responsible for her sister's murder. I knew I should feel appalled, should say something about civility and human rights—but no words came. Not a flicker of empathy stirred within me.
The absence of emotion toward Weidenhof should have unsettled me, but it didn't. He embodied everything wrong with our world—every act of cruelty humans had inflicted on each other out of greed and a thirst for power. History had shown this pattern over and over. And when there were no more people left to oppress, no more to push to the brink of extinction, humanity had simply set its sights on the stars.
I felt that I was changing. Changing into the Rachel I had been supposed to be when I was born, before my head was filled with what was right and wrong and civility. This was a primal planet, and I was reverting to my primal self. And this time, part of me was scared because whoever I was becoming would most likely not resemble the Rachel who had been taken from the lab.
What was most frightening, though, was that this was happening within the span of such a short time. Days. Was that like this for all of us? Did the core person of who people really were slumber deep inside them? Only to be awoken when suddenly, civilization, as we called it, wasn't in play any longer?
The Vandruk were civilized. It wasn't them who were getting excited at the notion of someone being tortured in a few hours. No, that was Amber, and in part me, because I wanted the truth. And yes, I still wanted the story.
Who are you ? Shot through my head.
Rachel , I answered, the better version of her . The one that fights for what is right. What humanity had done to these people was wrong and I didn't want any part of it. I wanted to be part of the solution, and I would do whatever it took to do that. I hadn't been given a choice or opportunity to stop what Weidenhof did, but by God, I had a chance now to make it right at Ghan-Zahr's side.
I turned my gaze from Carl; he had dug his own grave, and I didn't think there would have been anything I could do for him. I hoped he would make it easier on himself and give Amber the answers she needed. I had no doubt that the former Navy Intelligence Officer would get them one way or another.
"Are you sure?" Ghan-Zahr's gaze was intensely focused on me and my promise.
I nodded. "I'm sure."
His eyes gleamed as he took my hand, raised it in the air, and shouted, "My khadahrshi, Rachel."
The other women grinned at me, and Gwyn inclined her head. "Welcome to the club, Rachel."
"I'm still… it's so fast…" I looked at the others for help.
"I think mine took the longest. What, two weeks?" Jenna laughed.
"A week at best for me," Gwyn agreed.
"Week?" Amber snorted, and we all laughed; she had alluded earlier that it hadn't even taken a day before she had jumped Dzur-Khan.
My stomach twisted at the thought of my family. I would find a way to let them know that I was okay. I would see them again because anything else was simply unthinkable.
"Are you hungry?" Ghan-Zahr asked in a husky voice.
I shook my head, too overwrought with emotions to even think about food. Wordlessly, he pulled me to the tent I had been sleeping in alone since I met him, since I rejected him that first night. As much as I tried, I couldn't remember how many nights ago that had been. Too many , my heart whispered.
He pushed the flap aside to allow me to enter first; reluctantly letting go of his hand, I waited for him in the center, next to a stone caldron filled with smoldering coals, to keep the chill of the night out.
"Khadahrshi Rachel," he said, eliminating the few paces between us with just one step. His hand reached forward to cup half of my face, his thumb caressed my neck, and I gulped at a vision of that hand wrapped around my throat while he pumped into me. The vision reminded me once again of his brute strength, in such a stark contrast to the sweet caress of his hand on my face.
"Khadahr Ghan-Zahr," I replied, nestling my cheek into his hand.
We stood there, locked into each other's gazes for the longest time. My lips parted for a quick lick of my tongue, a movement his eyes caught, and his stance changed. A low growl emanated from him, one that flooded my pussy in anticipation.
His hand retreated. The other rose and met the first button on my blouse. A shiver moved through me at the near-contact of his calloused fingers with the skin of my swollen breasts.
The first button opened, and his hot breath caressed my face as our eyes stayed locked. My chest heaved up and down, and my nipples puckered with desire for him. He moved to conquer the second button and then the third as he continued his sweet torture. Finally, he parted my blouse, and my breath hitched as his eyes moved away from mine, lower. I followed the track of his fingers as they, ever so gently, brushed over the hills of my breasts still contained in the bra.
His thumb moved over my left nipple, through the lacy fabric, making me gasp at the electric jolt that shot through me, finding its target in my clit and igniting a gentle pulse that sent more pulses through me. He lowered himself, brushing his lips over the flesh of my rapidly rising and lowering breasts. Goose bumps spread over the sensitive flesh. With trembling hands, I reached behind me, fumbling with the clasp to my bra. Gently, I pushed Ghan-Zahr back so I could take my blouse and bra off.
His heated gaze roamed my naked torso. "Carama!"
Again, his hands reached forward, undoing the button and zipper of my slacks. His fingers hooked around the band of my panties and pulled them down. Shifting his considerable bulk, he shimmied down my body, hesitating by my sex, sending another jolt of anticipation through me.
He undid my boots and gently lifted first one foot, then the other out of my clothes. When I stood naked, he stood, taking me in. He stepped back like a man admiring a painting or sculpture. "Carama," he repeated. This time, his voice was barely a whisper.
His gaze, his tone, and his body language gave away how much he desired me. He made me forget about my hips, which I had always thought were a bit too wide, the stretchmarks on my breasts when they'd grown too fast, and the jiggle of my inner thighs. None of that entered my mind. My shoulders fell back, my chest rose, and I stood straighter in the knowledge that this magnificent man found me desirable.
Slowly, I breached our distance with two steps and placed my hands on his chest, reveling in the hardness of his pecs. "Magnificent," I whispered, noticing how the beat of his heart increased.
His skin quivered slightly at the touch of hands exploring his hard body, moving over the roped muscles and the raised scars on the left side of his torso. He hadn't told me yet how he had received them, but having seen the other khadahrs wearing the same, I was sure they were a marking of his rank. I followed the honeycombed grooves that had been etched into his flesh with the tip of my finger, like moving through a maze. I kissed the sometimes parallelogram, sometimes rhombus, and sometimes rectangle-shaped rises of his flesh in between the grooves, taking my time to move around to his back, where more roped muscles awaited me.
When I made my way around him, my fingers moved to the bindings of his breeches. I unfastened them, then lowered myself like he had done for me, taking a sharp inhale as his erect cock jumped into my face.
It was as massive as the man himself. I paused, my fingers twitched, and I couldn't resist the urge to put them around his shaft. Like I had predicted, the tips of my fingers didn't touch when I fisted him. His sharp inhale and the slight jerk through his body more than showed how much he enjoyed my touch.
I leaned forward, reveling in his gasp as my mouth took him in.
"Rachel!" he moaned when my tongue swirled around the head of his cock. Something sweet entered my mouth. Fuck, he tasted like salted caramel. I sucked, wanting more, and his entire body jerked.
His hands moved around my head, pulling me back instead of pushing me deeper onto his cock like other men had done. "Nek, Rachel."
Gently, he pulled me up while stomping with his feet to get his pants all the way down. He shook his head. "You make me cum. I want to enjoy you first."
I licked my lips, still tasting some of the salted caramel, but relented.
He backed me up until the tentpole stopped me. There, with a wicked grin on his face, both of his hands grabbed my tits, and a deep moan escaped me as he kneaded them to his pleasure, brushing over my nipples before latching on to one. My hands moved to his head and dug into his hair. He stopped, taking my wrists in one hand. He pinned them behind me around the tentpole. I groaned as a shot of hot pleasure moved through me, filling my pussy at this raw, primitive display of strength.
He moved back to my tits, caressing one with one hand while sucking on the other's nipple, teasing it with his teeth until stars danced in front of my eyes. My naughty leg moved up and down his calf and his thigh. With a guttural laugh that sent more of my juices flowing, he lowered himself and grabbed first one leg, then the other, placing them over his shoulders. Effortlessly, he lifted me up with my back against the pole. With a quick move, he recaptured my wrists after letting go for a moment to hoist me up. And good girl that I was—and really enjoying this—I had kept them in place.
He raised us higher, dipping his head flush with my weeping pussy.
"Now I feast."
Fuck! My breath hiccupped. I dangled against the pole, basically sitting on his shoulders, while his lips parted my folds, and his tongue began to lick me.
"Ah, so good"." He smacked his lips.
My head fell back as my entire being focused on the things his tongue and lips did to my core. His other hand dug into my ass and kneaded the pliable flesh, turning it pink and turning me into a limbless, helpless mess that enjoyed every touch and stroke.
He pulled my clit between his lips, his tongue darted around it, making me mewl. My hands fought to get free, to touch him, to hold on to something, but mercilessly he kept them prisoner while he feasted on my pussy.
My thighs quivered around his ears while the swirling waves of pleasure grew from my core outward, tensing my body, priming it. I cried his name as he ruthlessly worked my clit with his tongue, driving me mad.
Just as I was about to come, he let go of my wrists. Supporting my back, he carried me to the nest of furs on the ground. I was half delirious, caught in so much pleasure and the denial of the orgasm I had been so close to. I writhed on the bed like a cat in heat, staring at him.
"Fuck me, Ghan-Zahr," I begged, losing any pride, caught up in this bubble of pleasure.
His eyes burned in the dim light of the dying embers and a flickering candle.
"Mine," he growled, grabbing my thighs.
"Make me yours," I pleaded, "now."
He moved between my legs, which I spread wide to ease his access, and my pussy throbbed with desire for him. The head of his cock teased my entrance as he moved it up and down my slick slit and pushed it against my clit. Another mewl escaped me, and I closed my eyes, longing and waiting for him to enter me.
"Mine," he demanded again.
"I'm yours." I conceded again.
He pushed in, and I nearly jumped off the furs. Fuck, that felt incredible.
With one hard thrust, he pushed himself all the way in, so hard, so deep my ovaries seemed to greet him. All the while, my walls allowed him passage before closing in on him. My sensitive nerve endings noticed his ridges, the vibration of his cock that nearly drove me insane.
"Fuck, Ghan-Zahr!" I yelled.
His hips fell back as he retreated, creating such a sweet friction inside me that I nearly cried before he pushed back in. Faster. Harder.
My hands grabbed a hold of his forearms; the power held in those muscles intensified the fire inside me. My hips rose, meeting his thrusts with the same intensity as he used to pound into me.
"MINE!" He growled.
My ass moved up high into the air as I absorbed his next thrust, which made me see stars. My orgasm was an explosion of heat, sending wave after wave of bliss through me. I rocked against him, crying his name, afraid of losing my sanity. Mercilessly, he kept pounding into me. I wasn't sure if he prolonged my climax or if one followed another. I was only aware of these incredible sensations that kept coming. Nothing in my life had prepared me for this moment of unadulterated ecstasy.
With his next thrust, he roared, "Rachel! MINE!"
I fell back, unable to keep myself up any longer. It seemed neither could he as he collapsed on top of me. Mindful to keep most of his weight off me and on his elbows on either side of my arms.
"Rachel"." His breath was hot. I smelled myself on it, and the realization that I had somehow marked him filled me with unparalleled satisfaction.
Fingers brushed sweaty strands of my hair from my face, caressed my skin.