CALLEY (RIBUS 7 Book 3) (3 page)

Chelan was still having trouble dealing with his withdrawal from her life, his permanent departure leaving a huge hole in her heart. But he was resolute in his decision, and he was lost to her forever.

Suddenly, the main doors to the Command Center opened, and Chelan was startled out of her reflections.

“Good day, my Lady,” greeted Fremma.

“Hi there,” she returned warmly.

Fremma threw his shroud on a chair and moved to sit beside her. “Tomorrow is the day. After just over one full Iceanean year of work, the Imperial Palace is complete, or relatively so, and therefore you may be released from the confines of this ship.”

“Yes, I know, but I hardly find wandering the decks of RIBUS 7 confining.”

Fremma leaned back. “You have no choice, Chelan. The Telesians have finished outfitting her with the new drive system. She is now the fastest ship in the fleet, and I take her out of orbit within the week.”

Chelan’s mood instantly sank, her gaze shifting to the floor between them. “Don’t remind me,” she whispered.

Fremma leaned forward, his long blue-black hair cascading over his shoulders. “You have to talk to him, Chelan.”

Chelan lurched to her feet and turned away. “I am tired of talking, Fremma.”

Fremma stood and moved to her, surrounding her with his powerful arms. He buried his face in her silken hair and kissed the side of her neck gently.

Chelan melded to him, his soft breath breaking down her defenses. “I have just about given up, Fremma. I need time off, yet I need so much more.”

Fremma turned her to face him. “You have to talk to him again.”

Chelan shook her head. “And say what? And ask for what?” She sighed. “I do not handle my involvement in military decisions well. Even Zane says I need to rest. But to do what, Fremma? I cannot and will not be idle.”

Fremma’s fingers stroked her soft cheeks. “Is a child so important to you right now?”

Chelan smiled wryly. “He promised, Fremma.” She looked up into his azure eyes. “Years ago he said he would ask Ticees for time off—two years. And if time could not be made, it would be taken.”

“But now he is the Emperor. His role has changed.”

“That is the crux of the problem, Fremma. He did not give up the RIBUS for his place as Emperor. He now combines the two.”

“Fighting is in his blood, Chelan. I don’t think anyone really expected him to stay and reign on Iceanea as Ticees did.”

“But I had hoped. His final excuse back then was the Guild, but the Guild has been culled and restructured.”

Fremma shook his head. “He is still wary, my Lady. The Breeders caused Sabina’s death and they participated in the brutality Ticees inflicted upon you. It would be incautious of Korba not to be concerned even though all seems well. And right now, in his new capacity, he cannot be around for you continuously. That is what he promised.”

Chelan gnawed at her lip. “Then you tell me there is no chance? I forfeit bearing his child because of the position he has obtained?”

“No, not at all. The Empire requires a successor, and you are Korba’s mate. He will not allow that to go unfulfilled.”

“I suppose, but the question is when? Now is perfect. I have not taken on any Imperial duties as of yet. Toran is gone for who knows how long. You leave within the week for at least a year. And Dar has been gone—” Her words broke off. “I watched him leave through the Command doors the night the Empire fell, and I have not seen him since. He has back-to-back missions…”—Chelan felt her heart twist—“… and he won’t be coming back. And worst of all, Korba also leaves this week.”

She sagged into Fremma and he hugged her fiercely. “I have the Empire. I have the Palace, and yet I have nothing without Korba. I want his baby, Fremma, so badly.”

The Warlord stroked her slender back as his own thoughts raged.

“I will be so lonely without the two of you,” she whispered. Then she looked up at him. “I need some time off, and the Empire needs an heir. I want to spend my time caring for a child. And Fremma, I do not have your people’s longevity. I do not have an infinite period of time.”

Fremma held her face. “No, Chelan. You know things have changed since you have been here. Stose has been watching you and you have not aged a minute over your years with us. Between the near light speeds and Iceanea’s protective atmosphere, he sees no reason for you not to live as long as us.”

“He doesn’t know that for sure. Genetics could be a huge factor. What if he is wrong? I can’t wait the decades it may take Korba to come around.”

“Chelan, Stose has studied you now for years. The rate of cell degeneration has slowed over tenfold. That corresponds to our life expectancy.”

Chelan slumped into him once again. “In the end, that is irrelevant, Fremma. I want a baby now.”

Fremma held her firmly, his mind working. “Zane was right, pretty woman. What you need now is time off and rest.”

Chelan went to protest, but Fremma took her lips aggressively. She pushed back, struggling for space. “I have to work…”

“No, you don’t.”

“But the information on Marri…”

“Zane will take care of that.”

Chelan stepped back, but the warrior followed. “Fremma, Ilan has been wounded, possibly fatally.”

“Chelan! Ilan is billions of light-years away. You can do nothing for him by worrying.”

“But I need to know—”

“What you need is to be distracted.” And Fremma grabbed her forcefully, once again seizing her supple lips and swallowing her protest.

But this time Chelan did not resist, and soon his bold kiss became a sensual caress. He looked down into her fawn-like eyes. “It has been too long, my Lady.”

“You are right, my gentle warrior. I have missed our love so much.”

Fremma smiled and scooped her off her feet, heading for his chambers.

“What if Zane returns?” she asked, suddenly shy.

Fremma grinned. “You really do worry too much.”

Chelan finally threw him a genuine smile. “You want him to participate too?”

Fremma stood her by the bed as he began to disrobe her. “No. But I command RIBUS 7. He would not dare to interrupt me here.”

Chelan reached for the top of his uniform, her fingers slipping down over his broad chest and rippled abdominals. The jacket split, revealing his bronze skin to her, and she stripped him of it. “What if he hears us?”

Fremma smiled as he stroked her arms. “Do you plan on screaming?”

Chelan kissed the flesh of his chest, her tongue tasting him as she moved down toward his navel. “I don’t,” she breathed, “but you might.” Her hands reached for the top of his pants and she released his splendid manhood. She knelt and took his soft penis in her mouth, savoring his velvet skin as she loved to do so much.

Fremma ran his hands over her shoulders and entangled them in her thick hair. He gritted his teeth, struggling to maintain his flaccid state for her pleasure. “Just what do you intend to do to me to make me cry out thus?”

Chelan smiled as she sucked all of him into her mouth, her fingers toying with his male fullness. Then she withdrew from him and straightened. She stood, looking up into his fiery eyes. She smiled deviously at him through her thick lashes. “Oh, we will see.”

Fremma kissed her lips, his hands slipping over her shoulders. “I think it shall be you who cries out, my Lady.”

Chelan took a step back, relieving herself of her boots and pants. “I think not, my Lord,” she said, teasing.

She turned to the bed but Fremma grabbed her from behind, reaching around her and grasping her full breasts. His lips took her neck aggressively. “I think so,” he growled.

He hunched over her, forcing her to reach for the bed for support as his hands slid down to her hips. Instantly, he hardened, and with one smooth motion, he sheathed himself within her slippery folds.

Chelan did cry out, surprised by his sudden possession. She arched back toward him as he withdrew and entered her again. “You win,” she cried. “Oh god, you win!”

Fremma licked his lips. He pushed her forward again, forcing her up onto the bed. And there she was, his porcelain beauty on her hands and knees, her pretty bottom before him. He withdrew from her milky depths, his tip just teasing her outer folds. He ran his hands up and down her silky back, over her thighs, and back up to her buttocks. Then he slipped his fingers between her soft folds, his thumbs parting her wide. He pressed the head of his penis to the entrance of her well, and paused.

Chelan quivered from head to toe, every fiber in her body electrified. She strained her neck around to look at him. “What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly.

“Tell me what you want,” Fremma ordered in a deep, husky voice.

Chelan’s head sagged, her hair cascading about her. “I want you, all of you…” She gasped for air. “I want you deep.”

Fremma’s hands left her moist lips and he clutched her tightly about her hips. He thrust into her, and she cried out again, pushing back against him, driving him deeper still.

Chelan was beside herself, his forceful entries causing every muscle in her body to clench with ecstasy. Then, suddenly, he stopped, his thickness buried totally within her. She felt his tongue on her back and she shivered, her skin tingling. One of his hands reached forward to her breast, the other around her hip to her moistness. Simultaneously, he kissed her flesh, his fingers on her breast kneading her, twisting and pulling her nipple masterfully while his other fingers tenderly teased her hardened nodule.

Chelan threw her head back, her whole body trembling. She could feel his hot breath on her back, so many sensations washing over her at once that she was nearly overwhelmed.

“Come for me, pretty woman,” he rumbled. And Chelan exploded, every muscle in her body contracting almost painfully.

Her arms collapsed and she hugged into a pillow, Fremma’s hands moving back up to her hips, where he supported her. He let the last of her orgasm pass over her before he resumed his slow pelvic motions. He loved the feel of her as her spasms clamped down on his organ, her internal contractions caressing him. He looked down, watching his full thickness moving in and out of her, marveling as always at how someone so small could accept a man so large. He adored how her moistness coated him, his hardness consumed by her softness. The sheer visual stimulation alone put him over the edge, and he began his final few thrusts, driving into her as deep as he could, her soft moans severing the last threads of his control. He gave in to his body’s demands, his orgasm rocking him to his soul. Every powerful muscle in his body detonated with release, and he grabbed her to him, never wanting to let her go.

Chelan sagged down to the bed, taking him with her. He rolled to his side, keeping her clasped tightly to him, his engorged maleness still deep within her. He kissed her neck, his tongue tasting her saltiness. His hand surrounded her waist, then travelled up her moist body to her breast. He squeezed her once, and let his head fall back to the bed.

Time passed and finally she spoke. “I love you, Fremma. A part of me will die when you leave at this week’s end.”

He remained silent while he struggled with his own emotions. Carefully, he eased himself out of her warm depths and rolled her onto her back. He grasped her arms and drew them above her head, pinning them. Reaching down with his other hand, he smoothed his palm over her trim abdomen. “Let
me
give you the child you desire, my Lady.”

Chelan’s eyes went wide. She tried to twist away, but Fremma held her arms firmly. Then he shifted himself on top of her, rendering her completely immobile. “No, Fremma,” she uttered urgently.

Fremma shook his head. “I once told you I would give you anything.”

“No, Fremma. In theory you challenge the Let.”

“There is no true Let, Chelan. And this child would be for you, not the Empire. You may bear Korba’s later.”

Chelan shook her head frantically. “No. He would not understand.”

“Korba be damned!” he shouted, startling her to stillness. “He serves the Empire and all its needs, but not you. He rules the galaxy, Chelan, but he fails you.” Fremma’s eyes were like ice, but his voice softened. “I too am now a Warlord. I too command the respect and greatness of your mate. I command RIBUS 7, but through it all, Chelan, I love you first and foremost. Please, if it is a child you wish for, I will give it.”

Chelan swallowed hard, her chest heaving. Suddenly, the possibility hit her. She had been delivered from loneliness by Shan, why not by Fremma? She licked her dry lips, her eyes scrutinizing his handsome face. “I… I don’t know. I…”

Fremma released her hands and immediately wedged his body between her legs. Chelan gasped, her fingers ensnared in his beautiful mane, her mind entangled in itself. Then she closed her eyes and clenched her teeth as she felt him penetrate her creamy tightness once again. She arched and groaned. He knew her so well, he pleased her beyond all expectations, and he was so gentle. It would be so easy to let him fill her with his maleness, his essence spilling into her and satiating the void within her heart. But finally, she pushed gently against him. “No,” she whispered unconvincingly.

Fremma looked down at her. “Please, Chelan. You are in estrous. I can sense your receptiveness. Do not deny me, or yourself.”

Chelan looked over his flawless skin, his bronze flesh coated with the sweat of passion. And her mind raced. Then his hand joined his manhood, stroking her expertly while chipping at her defenses.

“Let me come inside you, pretty woman. Our baby will be beautiful.”

Chelan finally cried out, “No!” And he stopped. Her fists clenched as her thoughts pinwheeled. “I am so confused,” she uttered.

Fremma slipped out of her and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked down at her, her soft powdery skin, her small body trembling with so much sorrow. Suddenly, he grabbed her up and pressed her to him. “Tomorrow we occupy the Palace.” He raised her chin, forcing her to look at him, his voice low and commanding. “When you are with him in his domain, remember our love first and what I have offered. Then talk to him. Force him to choose. You are receptive now, Chelan. If he does not capitulate, remember that his damnable mission is nearly a year in length, an Iceanean year.” He watched as she recoiled from the pain and the loneliness that threatened, but he remained firm. “And if you do not talk to him, I will.”