Imperfect Partners (8 page)

“No clothes are allowed on Luna Ten unless we have guests,” Shedir reminded Conan.

“We’ll see about that.” A ll Conan wanted now was to be on his way, to settle in and start building permanent shelters and service buildings on Luna Ten. A lready he had recruited a handful of workers, mostly displaced Earthlings like himself, to augment the small group of laborers that Guy and Shedir had said would be put under his command.

Of course he thought about Nebula, too. She’d felt so warm and soft this morning, cuddled up around his back, one arm resting on his lower abdomen—near the cock Pak Song couldn’t seem to forget about. “Don’t worry, I promise to take excellent care of your creations.”

“You do that. Take care of new mate, too. Excuse me, I must return to palace. Prince A rik would not allow me to examine him yesterday.

Doubt he will see me today, either, but I must not disobey his father’s order.” A s though anxious to use his skill with cybernetics on Obsidion’s newly returned crown prince, Pak Song prepared to leave for the Diamond Palace as Conan followed Guy and Shedir into Leander’s shop.

* * * * *

“You sure you don’t want a shave?” the barber asked when he handed Conan the mating gifts he had ordered.

“I’m sure. Unless there is some rule on Luna Ten…” He looked toward his friends.

Shedir shook his head. “Only the rules we imported from Earth, which thank the gods we are free to ignore if we want to. Maybe I should let my hair grow. Only thing is, I’d miss the incredible sensations when Doreen nibbles and licks my scalp. When she rolls her tongue ring over the sensitive spot here, it practically makes me come.” He reached up and ran his finger over a spot at the back of his bronze, oiled scalp.

“Just about anything can make you come, my friend. Conan, I follow most of the Federation rules about appearance, but it’s mostly out of habit. So do Brad and the rest of us on Luna Ten. Because we want to. If you want to let your hair grow, do it. Nobody will care.” Guy grinned from his spot in the barber chair where Leander was preparing to wax away the stubble from his skull.

Conan considered taking a seat in that other chair and giving in to tradition. He could shave his head as he had done daily since he was a child, until he had been too weak and broken to care about appearances. He could shave Nebula’s head as well, since doing so was part of the time-honored ritual of mating.

But he wouldn’t. He’d leave the mating braid attached to her head, loosening it once they found their bed, wrapping the silken strands around his fist. A nd he’d keep his own hair, too. A fter all, he was a eunuch and she a sterilized female. Traditions need not apply to them.

While they waited for Guy to finish with his grooming, Conan and Shedir talked. When Shedir described the very public mating ritual in the glade on Luna Ten, Conan wasn’t sure either he or Nebula would enjoy taking part in it. “What would you think if I chose to forgo the mating ritual altogether? I find the idea of saying the vows and taking Nebula in private appeals to me greatly.” Shedir smiled, but then his expression turned serious. “It surprises me that you would pass on staking your claim for everyone on Luna Ten to see.”

“I don’t want Nebula to be embarrassed. She seems sensitive about her tattoo, and I imagine she feels the same about the glowing cock Pak Song gave me, though she hasn’t said so. I know men dominate and that females are supposed to come only when they’re mastered, made to feel helpless against their own desires. It’s just…”

“Just that you feel less than a man?”

“Maybe. A t the very least, I feel different. I want to enjoy the kind of devotion from Nebula that you have from Doreen, the same kind I sense that Guy has from Cassie. Nebula has been wounded more mentally than physically. She is only now beginning to believe she can have any more than a sterile existence. So am I. We need some time alone, to learn to love ourselves as well as each other, before we join in the public rituals of the mated couples on Luna Ten.”

“That makes sense. By the gods, man, they shouldn’t have done this to you.” When Shedir spoke, he scowled as though he’d like to punish someone—anyone—who had taken part in Conan’s mutilation. “A nd the rulers shouldn’t force Nebula or any other woman who carries the mutant gene to destroy her femininity. Leave it to me. A nd Doreen. We will see that you are not subjected to the scrutiny of everyone on Luna Ten when you mate. Now that Guy is properly groomed once more, let us pay a visit to Eli, the jeweler, to find some baubles for our mates.”

Conan tried to conceal his discomfort when Eli, the wizened jeweler who had made his reputation by providing the most beautiful selection of precious adornments on Obsidion, looked up at him, shock evident on his wrinkled face.

“May I show you something for your Master?” he asked, obviously struggling to regain his composure.

Conan forced a smile. “I am no slave. I wish to purchase a gift for my own slave.” The old man shook his head. “You are the second eunuch to come in my shop today, seeking a gift.” He sighed as he met Conan’s gaze.

“Times must be changing quickly. I apologize for showing my surprise. I meant no disrespect. Just tell me what you have in mind.” Conan considered for a moment and then gestured toward a display of jewelry with gems ranging from pale lavender to purple, from smooth stones to highly faceted ones. He considered rings, earrings, nose jewels and pendants before settling his attention on a beaten-gold slave collar embellished with large, irregularly shaped gems in mottled shades of purple with a matching pendant surrounded by faceted, violet-colored stones. “I like that collar, but I don’t recognize the stones. What are they?”

“The cabochon-cut stones are opalites, sometimes called Tiffany Stone. It does not surprise me that you are drawn to them, as they come from Earth, from a place that used to be called Utah. The small, faceted stones are tanzanites, also brought from Earth at great cost in lives and riches. Here on Obsidion, it is said that together they restore sexual potency.”

“Then it is appropriate that I feel drawn to them, don’t you think?”

Eli, who had been studiously looking away from Conan, met his gaze and smiled, apparently put at ease when Conan jested about his status. “Yes. It is. A nd since you have given me a suggestion, I will make you a very special price on the collar.” He swiped a card into the lock atop the case, opened it and brought out the collar.

“A suggestion? What have I suggested?”

“You have saved me thousands of credits by reminding me of the stones’ significance to those like you, but most likely you don’t know as the news has not been announced. Meredith the matchmaker has arranged a marriage between my eldest daughter and Crown Prince A rik.” Conan lifted the collar, admiring the workmanship. “No, I did not know. My congratulations to you. I still don’t understand how I may have saved you credits.”

“The prince’s wedding attendants will be the royal eunuchs, and there are four of them. Since you reminded me of the significance of these stones, I have decided to make the attendants’ gifts with opalites and tanzanites rather than with my daughter Emerald’s name stones, which are far more costly. Her gifts for the prince alone will pauper me, and I must economize wherever I can, because I have two more daughters to settle with husbands.”

Conan looked down at the collar, its weight sufficient to remind a wearer of her enslavement but not great enough to cause her pain. He imagined how the stones would complement Nebula’s pale, almost-lavender eyes. “I will take this collar, and I would like to see those tanzanite jewels as well.” He gestured toward trays near the end of the display case.

Eli beamed. “You have made a wise choice with the collar. It is one of my best pieces,” he said as he brought out the trays of mounted stones.

Conan chose a pair of tanzanite earrings set in gold and a small, round nostril adornment. While Eli took over showing baubles to Shedir and Guy, his assistants packaged Conan’s purchases in a shimmering, golden box.

* * * * *

“Our buying spree today should have filled Eli’s coffers nicely,” Shedir muttered as he and Guy made their way with Conan back to join their women. “But our mates should all be happy.”

Guy laughed. “A t least we got off more easily than Conan. Doreen and Cassie already have their collars. Plain ones. We didn’t get sucked in by Eli’s pitch that we should be upgrading them today.”

“Eli gave me a good price.” The collar’s delicate design and unique gems reminded him of Nebula, and the stones themselves seemed perfect considering his eunuch status. “It wouldn’t have mattered if he had charged me twice as much, though. I want the best for the woman who has agreed to be my mate. Now, if you will excuse me, I want to spend some time alone with Nebula.”

“Understood.” Shedir shot a glance toward Guy. “You and Nebula are welcome to join us in the public dungeon later, if you wish.” Conan shook both friends’ hands. Drawn by the prospect of seeing Nebula’s beautiful eyes sparkle with pleasure at his gifts, he took his leave and hurried up the stairs. She would never be alone again, and neither would he.

Two months later on Luna Ten

A beautiful day dawned as Conan strode naked to the fucking glade, his glowing cock a beacon to any who might chance to intrude on his private mating with Nebula. Nebula lay tied across the sacred stone, facedown, her cunt glistening with the pale, slick fluid of desire.

A priest, also exiled from Earth, was murmuring words he never would have dared to say back home even before the Fall—words that would forever join them, body and soul. Lovers whose joining could never produce a child, whose pleasure would forever be missing the element of continuity…of bubbling, overflowing life and promise.

Conan had doubted the wisdom of this mating, but now he felt certain of what he must do.

He would not take Nebula as a Master, only as a friend and lover. A n equal. His step firm, he strode to the stone and cut her bonds. “I want you to come to me of your own volition. I want to share with you, not take from you. You will be my slave, but I will be yours as well.” Nebula’s smile when she stood and faced him lit his heart. She held out both hands to him, a gesture of commitment even more profound than the one she had made earlier when she had let the priest bind her to the fucking stone for Conan’s pleasure.

Holding her, he moved into the light of the glade. “I want no slave, only you, as my lover. Come to me and let us seal our vows here, in the glade.” He turned to the priest. “Summon the others, if you would. I no longer mind if others see us.” Conan turned, sat on the stone and drew his life mate onto his lap. When he stroked her satin slit and found her ready, he lifted her and impaled her on his bionic cock. While she moved on him, he kneaded her ripe, firm breasts.

She milked him with her cunt, and the pressure built in his belly, his ass. He saw colors brighter than the glow of his cock when she tightened around him in the throes of her climax. A s they reached their climax together, the others joined them in the glade.

A fter they stopped trembling with the power of their mating, Conan took the collar he had bought and snapped it around Nebula’s slender, pale neck. “The next time we travel to Obsidion, I will take you to the jeweler and buy a matching collar for you to give me as a symbol of my willing, loving enslavement.” He stood, drawing her up at his side.

The beauty and acceptance of all their friends and fellow exiles on Luna Ten surrounded them, lent an aura that made the day perfect for him and for the woman he loved.

The End

About the Author

A nn Jacobs is a sucker for lusty A lpha heroes and happy endings, which makes Ellora’s Cave an ideal publisher for her work.

Romantica®, to her, is the perfect combination of sex, sensuality, deep emotional involvement and lifelong commitment—the elusive fantasy women often dream about but seldom achieve.

First published in 1996, Jacobs has sold over forty books and novellas, some of which have earned awards including the Passionate Plume (best novella, 2006), the Desert Rose (best hot and spicy romance, 2004) and More Than Magic (best erotic romance, 2004). She has been a double finalist in separate categories of the EPPIES and From the Heart RWA Chapter’s contest. Three of her books have been translated and sold in several European countries.

A CPA and former hospital financial manager, Jacobs now writes full-time, with the help of Mr. Blue, the family cat who sometimes likes to perch on the back of her desk chair and lend his sage advice. He sometimes even contributes a few random letters when he decides he wants to try out the keyboard. She loves to hear from readers, and to put faces with names at signings and conventions.

A nn welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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Club Rio Brava 1: Loving Control

Club Rio Brava 2: Switching Control

Club Rio Brava 3: Unexpected Control

Club Rio Brava 4: Learning Control

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Colors of Magic

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D’A rgent Honor 1: Vampire Justice

D’A rgent Honor 2: Eternally His

D’A rgent Honor 3: Eternal Surrender