15. Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Fifteen
One of Ursa’s eyebrows arched, but he quickly obeyed, making even faster work of his clothes than I had just a moment before.
Unsurprisingly, he was completely nude underneath his jumpsuit.
Later, I would have to remind him about the importance of thermal underwear in space, but for the moment I was too distracted by the sight of his firm, broad, naked body.
Slowly, I circled him, taking him in, marveling at the sight of him.
This was my Ursa. This strong, soft, imposing, vulnerable, powerful, loyal man.
He was so beautiful. I loved every scar, every freckle, every muscle.
I traced the map of him with my fingers, all of his ridges and valleys, until he was shivering under my touch.
When I faced him again, he was hard as stone, his eyes dark with want. I considered his erection. That was for me. Because of what I was doing, and how much he wanted me. It was a heady, powerful feeling, and it made me unexpectedly bold.
“There’s something I’ve always wanted to try,” I told him.
Ursa watched me with wild, uncomprehending eyes as I kneeled.
I’d never done this before, not even during the experiments of my youth; honestly, it had never seemed even remotely appealing.
But Ursa always looked at me like I was his goddess—me, silly, prim, proper Mina.
At least for the moment, I wanted to be as glorious as he seemed to think I was.
I wanted to make him feel even half a fraction as good as he made me feel just by existing in his presence.
When I wrapped my mouth over the tip of his cock, Ursa let out such a strangled cry of surprise and need that I knew if anyone was listening, there could be no doubt about what kind of activities were happening in this room.
Suddenly, though, I couldn’t find it in me to care.
“Mina,” he growled, his hand fisting tightly in my hair.
I was too absorbed with the newness of what was happening to be too mindful of the urgency in his voice. My tongue experimentally explored his hard ridge, my mouth instinctively working to take it in more fully.
“Mina!”
This time there could be no ignoring Ursa. My eyes flew open in surprise; the next moment, he’d wrenched free of me and all but thrown me onto the bed. He followed shortly after, maneuvering me so my stomach faced down, my bottom up in the air, my face pressed into the mattress.
My first startled thought was that perhaps he hadn’t liked what I’d been doing? Then I realized that more likely, he’d liked it far too much. That became evident when, with fierce urgency, Ursa pulled my backside up into the air so he could sink himself inside me.
We both groaned together at the sensation, the heat and want and longing pulsing between us. My inner walls closed instinctively around him. “Ursa,” I breathed.
He needed no more encouragement to snap his hips against mine.
Again. Again. Again. I realized now that, although I’d never taken our coupling to be particularly gentle, he’d been holding back, still finding his bearings, or perhaps easing us both into the experience.
There was none of that restraint now. His body moved recklessly and urgently against mine, each thrust burrowing my cheek deeper into the mattress as my hands scrambled for purchase on the sheets.
This rough and wild treatment ought to have felt terribly demeaning. That’s what the Havenian side of my brain was telling me, anyway. It was so uncivilized, so animalistic, so rough. I ought to be infuriated. I ought to be ashamed.
But it felt so very good, all of it. Each piece of the experience on its own might not have produced any pleasure, but combined—his unyielding grip and the slap of our bodies and the urgency every time he slid back into me—it was euphoric.
I was half out of my mind with pleasure, making the most undignified sounds.
I couldn’t stop myself, and Ursa was not offended or disgusted by it; rather, it seemed to spur him on in a way that gave me no incentive whatsoever to hold back.
He kept pounding into me, sheathing in and out of me through the crests of sensation, until suddenly he stilled, pressed into me one last time, then stilled again.
We remained that way for a long moment, catching our breaths. Then Ursa slid out of me. More lucid thoughts began to trickle back into my mind. We would have to wash. We would have to find a way to make it down the hallway without drawing attention to ourselves, and . . .
Those practicalities flitted away as Ursa lay down next to me and pulled me onto my side up against him. His lips were so lovely and warm against my shoulder, my neck, my cheek. He nuzzled into me.
“Mina,” he murmured.
It was not much, that one word. But when he said it, I heard so very many things in it.
Later, when Ursa had fallen into a well-earned slumber,1 I slipped out of the room.
I still had the tattered outfit from my attempt to play decoy and wanted to be rid of it as soon as possible.
The Achaeans might need it for another escapade—one that I would hopefully not be part of, or at least not in that capacity.
I’d had my fill of playing the damsel in distress, thank you very much.
I made my way to Tobago’s quarters. The galley was empty as I passed it, and the ship as a whole seemed to have quieted down considerably since Ursa and I disappeared back to the room.
Perhaps everyone needed a rest after the day’s events.
I’d only heard stories about what the rest of the crew had been up to in order to obtain the giggle gas, but it sounded like they’d had a few close calls themselves.
In the corridor outside Tobago’s rooms, I paused.
All seemed to be quiet inside. There was a faint light coming from underneath the door, but it was possible he and Indy might be asleep.
I debated a moment before raising my fist and lightly rapping with my knuckles—not loud enough to wake anyone up, but perhaps loud enough to rouse attention if they were already awake.
To my surprise, the door swung open almost immediately, like Tobago had been waiting on the other side for me to knock. His look of surprise, however, indicated I was not who he was expecting to see. “Oh. I thought Indy locked himself out by mistake.”
He was wearing pajamas with a patched-up robe over the top, a size or two too big. I suspected it hadn’t belonged to him originally and that he was making do with what was around. That seemed to be the way of things on a ship the size of the Trojan Horse, I was learning.
“No. It’s just me.” I held out the dress to him. “I’m returning this, but don’t worry, I won’t linger. I’ll let you get your rest.”
Tobago just shrugged. “Stay awhile. At least until Indy gets back from the washroom.”
I followed him into the sitting room, not entirely surprised to see a four-dimensional chessboard laid out with all the pieces. Tobago had been unbeatable as a young man, though I’d certainly done my best to give him a run for his money from time to time. “Do you play against Indy?”
“I play against myself,” he returned easily, dropping into the chair beside the set. “The only opponent who puts up a respectable fight.”
I rolled my eyes at him, though I had to bite back a laugh. The worst part of it was, he wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t a bad player myself, but he was in an entirely different league. “Good lord,” I teased him, “I’m amazed you manage to fit that head of yours in a space helmet.”
The twinkle in his eye told me he was enjoying getting my goat up. He’d always had a bit of a naughty streak to him; he liked to push buttons to see what kind of reaction he could get.
He raised an eyebrow at me now, gesturing to the chess set. “Think you can put me in my place?”
“We both know I can’t.” I obligingly took the seat across from him, though, studying the pieces in front of me, the layout of the elaborate multidimensional board.
I hadn’t played in ages, but it was rather like riding a hoverbike, wasn’t it?
He would most definitely beat me, but I could try my best to make it an honorable death.
“It does put one at a disadvantage when one follows the rules and your opponent doesn’t. ”
This was an old fight between us, and maybe I was taking my turn at pushing some buttons, too. Tobago rolled his eyes back at me. “I’d cling to that excuse if I lost every time, too.”
Ooh, those were fighting words. By mutual, silent agreement, we quieted, focusing our energy on the game. For the first few moves, neither of us said anything.
After a few moments, though, Tobago cleared his throat. “Everything settled with Ursa?”
I thought he was trying to distract me, so I didn’t pay much mind to the question. “Ursa’s sleeping.” My eyes roved over the pieces, trying to suss out his next move.
Tobago cleared his throat again. “I meant with Ursa, when he . . .” He raised his hand as if to make a grabbing motion, then seemed to think better of it and let it drop back to the table. “Was that—you were okay with that?”
Oh. A flush began to crawl up my neck, heating my cheeks.
It was sweet of Tobago to check in, but a part of me had hoped that not everyone noticed—or that if they had, they would never, ever mention it again.
“That’s all . . . it’s sorted now. He knows not to do that sort of thing in public anymore. ”
Although . . . did he? Our conversation had admittedly gotten a bit derailed. I would have to make certain Ursa and I were on the same page moving forward.
Tobago nodded, keeping his eyes fastened down on the pieces. “But . . . in private, that’s what’s happening with you two?”
The question oughtn’t to have mortified me as it did.
Tobago was no prude. He’d never subscribed to the idea of using a Pleasure Machine or visiting a pleasure house, had always insisted that physical contact was the best way to have sex.
His insistence on talking about such things so openly was one of the reasons why he’d sworn off living on Haven 3, as a matter of fact.
Yet for some reason, he seemed embarrassed to be asking me the question, and I felt embarrassed to have to answer it. “Yes.” I sincerely hoped that would be the end of things and we could move on.
After another moment’s pause, Tobago sat back in his chair. “Huh.”
Oh, now, really, he couldn’t just say that and then not elaborate any further. I raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I had no idea whose turn it was now. If Tobago’s intent had been to distract me, it was certainly working. But if this really was a decoy, it seemed to be working equally well on him. He shifted, looking discomfited. “He’s just not . . . what I pictured for you. That’s all.”
A different sort of shame wound its way through me. I tried to smile, though I’m sure it came out as more of a wince. “I know he’s terribly handsome and I’m, well, me—”
“That’s not what I meant,” Tobago cut me off firmly, catching my gaze and holding it meaningfully. Better than almost anyone else, he knew just what a struggle it had been for me to be a non-mod in a settlement like Haven 3. “You’re smart.”
“Ursa’s smart,” I returned defensively. “He’s out of his element now, but you should see him on Earth. He knows it better than anyone! He survived almost entirely on his own from the time he was a young child—”
“You’re book smart,” Tobago corrected. “Happiest in a lab, talking about ideas. Reading books. Playing chess. What do you talk about with him?”
I shifted uncomfortably, keeping my tone light so he couldn’t guess that he’d struck a nerve.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Ursa doesn’t talk much.
But he likes to listen. And goodness knows, I can have a running monologue all by myself without any help at all.
So maybe it’s for the best that he’s so taciturn. ”
Tobago took his time processing this. After a moment, he lifted his shoulders and let them drop again. “I guess I just pictured you with someone more your equal. That’s all.”
What had once been shame flooding through me now boiled into anger.
Without meaning to, I found myself on my feet, glaring down at him.
“What an awful thing to say. Ursa is my equal, in every way that counts. He’s kind.
He’s brave. He’s good. He listens to me.
He makes me laugh. He looks at me like I’m the only woman in the universe.
And he fucks me like an absolute gold-medal champion.
2 I don’t want anyone else. I love him. He’s mine, and I’m his, and that’s that, and I don’t want to hear anything else about it. ”
For a long moment, a tense silence stretched out between us. Then Tobago burst out laughing. I’d been furious, genuinely furious, just seconds before, but hearing Tobago, I couldn’t help but laugh, too.
“God, Mina,” he groaned. “There are things a brother shouldn’t have to hear.”
I looked at him incredulously. “Is that what you are now? My brother?”
In every way except for our genetic material and birth parents, I suppose he had been. He’d helped me learn how to ride a bike, had beaten up the bullies who’d torn apart my favorite dolly, had made an illegal journey to Earth to try to smuggle me off it because I was in danger.
Tobago just gave me a look. “Come on, Mina. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”
Biting back my smile, I looked down at the chess pieces. “That was a valiant attempt to distract me from the game, but I think you’ll find you have to try harder than—”
I was interrupted by the sound of a moan, followed by a loud thump out in the corridor. My eyes widened. “What was that?”
1. Perhaps I ought to clarify that I am referencing his physical exertion in climbing the tower, not that other physical exertion that followed. Although I must say, he did expend quite a bit of energy with that activity as well.
2. There isn’t a category in the Intergalactic Olympics for that, of course, but if there were, I’m fairly confident Ursa could hold his own with any of the best.