Legend Beyond The Stars (20 page)

He raised his head to suck and lick his way along her jaw line, down her neck then fastened greedily on her nipples, pointed peaks beneath her thin clothes. His mouth so hot and wet. Alana drew in deep shuddering breaths.

“Stop. Please. No, don’t stop!” Her whole body shook with need and she whimpered as he suckled harder and harder.

“I have no intention of stopping, my Alana.” He growled against her breasts and returned to her swollen lips. He pushed his tongue inside, demanding and receiving her compliance.

Through a red haze of heat she was aware he unzipped her pants, pushed the material down past her thighs with an aggressive movement. Alana freed one leg from her pants. Then he rubbed her mons through her underpants, the pad of his thumb rough and demanding and her knees buckled. He wrenched the scrap of cotton aside.

Alana gasped when he gripped her hips and held her in place then thrust his cock hungrily into her soft heat, taking possession. She heard nothing, could feel nothing but the pulsing of her blood, the heat enveloping her, the urgency of his mouth as he pounded into her over and over. Deeper and deeper. Her climax beckoned. She strained her body against his, meeting his thrusts with equal urgency.

When he withdrew, Alana whimpered in protest. She wriggled and squirmed then swept her hands over the hard planes of his stomach, seeking his cock but he brushed her touch aside.

He gripped her waist, his fingers digging into her flesh and spun her round until she faced the wall. She turned a questioning face towards him pushing against the wall with her
palms but he grasped her wrists with one hand, held them over her head. He slid his hand across her stomach and jerked her backside towards him, hoisting her high until she dangled held upright only by the strength of his arm. His grip left her hands to angle her lower body towards him.

Realising his intent, she attempted to evade him. To no avail. He plunged his rigid cock into her moist tunnel. Excitement, the thrill of domination and pleasure shivered through her body as he drove into her.

With the explosion of her release as forceful as the detonation of a bomb and the strength in her limbs obliterated, she hung dependent on his strength to keep her upright.

Triumphantly he rammed into her again and again until he roared with satisfaction. Alana thought his hot seed spurted against her very womb.

He slid his fingers arrogantly over her mons and massaged the wetness over her swollen sex. The touch of his skin against her sensitive flesh sent fresh quivers rippling across her stomach. Her nipples pebbled into tight buds. He released her wrists to glide his fingers over her body, over her stomach, her ribcage, her breasts, trailing heat and need in its wake. Every firm touch an arrogant declaration of possession. He gripped her shoulders and turned her around. She kept her eyes closed, her head lowered while she struggled to regain composure. There was no way she wanted him to see the vulnerability in her eyes. No one had ever done such things to her before.

And damn, if she hadn’t relished every moment of it.

Tarak slipped a hand under the tendrils of her damp hair and tugged. When she remained obdurate, he nudged her chin and tipped her head back.

”Look at me,” he ordered in harsh tones.

Alana’s battered heart pinched as she met the cold depths in his eyes. His face remained forbidding and grim. The suspicion that his actions were his way of delivering punishment had her mouth trembling with the desolation seeping into her cooling body.

“You will obey me, slave”.

His kiss, again dominant and assured, claimed her. He hardened and moved with eager impatience against her. Her grip closed over his rock-hard muscles, as he lifted her easily in his arms. He carried her across the room and placed her on his bed. With his black gaze never leaving her face, he quickly removed his armour, boots, everything until he stood legs braced, confident in his nakedness.

“Remove your clothes,” he ordered and stood watching, hands clenched as she fumbled and fought her way free.

Furious with her weakness, her chin angled high she flung the last garment onto the floor. He watched its progress as it fluttered to the ground then transferred his gaze to her, dark brows raised, face impassive, the flickering embers of flame in his obsidian eyes glowing bright. “It appears you need to be reminded who is in charge. You should know there can be only one Commander.”

“Commander, yes, dictator, no.” Her heart clenched.
So it was punishment
.

“I will have you safe.”

Alana glared at him. “I’m a soldier, I don’t do safe.”

”You will now.” He joined her on the bed and splayed his rough hand over her shaking stomach, his eyes narrowed on her face. He loomed over her. “We will begin again,” he murmured huskily against her lips.

This time every touch, every movement he made was so exquisitely tender, it shook the very foundations of her soul. Later, her thoughts chaotic, her body sated to the point of exhaustion, she dropped into a deep, fathomless sleep where she dreamt he nuzzled her bare breasts and whispered, “Never will you leave me.”

Tarak sprawled in a command chair in the Central Control Centre and gazed blankly at the ceiling. He recalled with vivid clarity the feel of his Alana’s body, the scent of her skin, the depth of her response and many other things which caused a variety of urgent impulses to rack his body, when his second-in-command strode through the door. Even though he heard the sound of footsteps come closer, Tarak did not move.

“I assume you would like a full report. That is, if you are still capable of rational thought after your, err meeting shall we say, with Alana?”

Tarak snorted. “I am a Darkon warrior am I not? A mere female is not sufficient to disrupt my thoughts.”

Magar sucked air in through his nostrils noisily and waited for his leader to look at him. “And I am the son of Cercis.”

Annoyed, Tarak swung his booted feet off the table. He planted them on the floor and glared at his friend. “What exactly are you saying?”

”I speak of what you already know.”

Tarak struck the table with his clenched fist.

“She is a worthy mate,” Magar ventured with caution. “I admire her.”

Tarak shot to his feet and stalked across the room.

Magar laughed and backed away. He held up his hands in surrender. “See? Relax, Tarak, I do not admire her in such a way. I would not dare.”

Tarak searched his friend’s amused countenance, then slapped Magar’s back and slumped back into the chair. After waving his friend towards another seat, he fingered his jaw. He growled, “She must obey me. She is naught but a slave.”

Magar rolled his eyes starward. “She is not like any slave I have ever seen.”

Tarak drummed his fingers on the table and glowered.

“Very well,” Magar said in agreeable tones. “You may call her your slave if you wish. I and the others will call her your mate. Perhaps if you were more reasonable with your requests, she would obey you.”

“Requests?” said Tarak. He beat the table once more and heard his friend sigh. “I will make no requests to her, only orders. She will obey them.”

His First Officer crossed his arms over his bare chest, tipped back his chair and eyed the ceiling. “They are very different to our women, these females. They are strong and independent. Where they come from, they perform responsible work and are respected for their abilities. Obviously they make many decisions with little or no recourse to their men.
Perhaps we will need to make allowances for these aspects of their characters to ensure they will assimilate into our society.”

“You speak as if they will have a future in our world. I need not remind you of our laws.”

“Our current laws.”

“It is well, my friend, it is only I who hear these words.” Tarak unclenched his fist and grumbled. “I know of what you speak. But they must also realise Darkon warriors are responsible for their females.”

“Haven’t we often spoken of how we wished to change our world to a similar culture? A society where women’s voices are heard with respect?”

“Foolish ideas, my friend, which can never be implemented as there are no longer any Darkon women. These females from such an inferior race are only fit for the role of slaves.”

“Hah!” Magar gave a snort of disbelief. “I know in your heart you believe otherwise. Do not try to tell me you believe they will learn the ways of Darkon women, our laws and obey without question.”

Tarak barked out a laugh and said ruefully. “I think we will count ourselves lucky, if they will learn and accept even a small number of our ways.”

Magar grinned. “So it seems the Darkon males must learn and accept these females’ ways.”

”Only what will not be detrimental to the females’ well-being. They will be protected at all costs.” Tarak glared at the older warrior. “We cannot and will not let harm befall them. Unlike the others.”

Magar surged to his feet and strode to the viewing window.

“Forgive me, Magar. I did not mean to remind you of the past,” Tarak said as he watched his friend’s taut back. “I also miss my family. My little sister would have just passed her twenty cycles, if she had lived. And your mate, my mother’s sister’s only child I considered family.”

“It has been many cycles since the last of our females passed to the other life. I know I am not the only one who has suffered loss. But I often wonder what my daughters would have been like, whether they would have resembled their mother, what they would have enjoyed doing …” Magar braced his hands against the wall and was silent for a few sectons.

Straightening, he swung around and faced his leader. “Well the past has gone and soon also the Darkon race will be vanquished. Do your plans remain the same?”

It was Tarak’s turn to remain quiet. His euphoria evaporated like steam off the rocks which dotted the landscape of the ancient Darkon suns at this reminder of his orders.

Finally he answered. “It is the duty of all Darkon males to deliver any females to the chambers in Isla. As the last in line, I must do all I can to ensure the continuation of our people.” With care, he hid the clenching of his gut, his bowels feeling as if they were being ripped from his body. “I admit the thought of sending Alana to such a fate grieves me greatly.”

Magar raised his brows waited several beats before saying, “They are of puny stature. I cannot see how they can advance our cause. This order does not sit well with me, Tarak.”

Tarak’s hands clenched over the metal arms. “Nor with me, but the penalty for disobedience of a royal decree is imprisonment or death. However, I have been considering taking them to Cerciron first.”

“The king will not be pleased.”

Tarak shrugged. “An initial analysis should determine their unsuitability quite easily. Have we not researched all the great races of the Seven Galaxies with no success? None have proved compatible with our species. I also do not believe these females can advance our cause. Once this has been proved, then they may remain on Cerciron.”

“Then our chances of surviving are nil.”

“Yes,” Tarak agreed. “If it was possible to learn the exact location of the Supreme Leader’s headquarters, we may survive a few cycles but we are a scattered race. Hope has deserted us. Many have already given up the struggle and chosen to live out their remaining cycles in peace. If I could find a way to reunite our people, then we may win through. But to what end?” He spread his hands wide. “Our race will still be doomed.”

Magar hesitated before continuing, “Many of the men have overcome the impotence which has plagued us for the past six cycles. Some will not want to leave their chosen mates.”

“Slaves not mates. Slaves.” Tarak’s fingers beat an irritated tattoo on the armrest.

Magar continued as if he had not spoken, “Tarak, they have bonded. They worry what will become of the females after they are gone. Just as you worry about Alana.”

Tarak launched himself from his chair and paced the length of the room and back again, at his sides his hands clenched and unclenched. “I will ensure her safety.”

“How?” Magar persisted. “We will not be here. When we do not succeed with our plan, the Elite Forces will overrun the last outpost and take possession of the remaining Darkon Stars. With possession of our knowledge of how to wield the energy spheres to destroy entire planets, Liama will be unstoppable. We both know he will then wage war with any who dare to oppose him. Any surviving warriors will be imprisoned or terminated. Any person or race that ally with us, will meet the same end. Or worse,” he added softly.

“This I already know, you need not remind me, Magar,” Tarak snarled, turning his face away. “It seems we are truly cursed.”

“Our options are indeed, limited.”

Tarak strode to the table and keyed in the code. “I have decided. We return to the last outpost.” He exchanged glances with Magar who nodded in grim acceptance. “The females will be safe in my father’s care. Those who choose may remain with their slaves.”

He directed a sardonic grin at Magar who rolled his eyes at the word
‘slaves’
. “They will not be forced to fight our last battle. And you, my friend what will you choose?”

“I?” Magar asked in surprise. “I will accompany you, of course.”

“Then you have not chosen a female amongst these women?”

“No. There is no one,” he said abruptly.

Too abruptly
, Tarak mused as he considered his friend’s tense features and waited.

His second-in-command bared his teeth, showing his long sharp canines. “I am too old for such things.” He ignored Tarak’s snort of derision. “Let the younger ones have their times of pleasure. It will be fleeting enough.”

“Then there is none who takes your fancy?” Tarak persisted.

“I have said no!” Magar folded his arms across his chest and glowered with irritation. He smirked as he attacked in return, “I believe it would be best if I take command of the battle and you remain with Alana to protect her. You cannot deny it is your true desire.”

Tarak bristled at this intrusion into his innermost thoughts, and fought the bittersweet images rising unbidden in his mind. To share his last days with her, to be there to stand before her when the Elite hordes and the space scum Relics overran their last refuge, he could not deny was his dearest yearning.