Rykhan (Book 1 of Mate Search Series) (19 page)

His hesitant, moves more than spoke of how
unschooled the gorgeous man was in the language of bed play.
However, if he was so eager to learn, then she could and most
definitely would gladly accept the role of teacher.

She found herself quickly removing the rest of
her clothes, watching from beneath lowered lashes as he did the
same. As she scooted up the bed to rest her head on the pillows,
she saw him pause with one knee on the mattress until she settled.
But his eyes stared at one particular, specific spot on her
body.

Leah already knew he was a curious man, wanting
to discover as much as he could about any of the situations he
found himself in and it appeared that he was no less curious when
it came to sex.

“May I look at you?” he asked and there was a
reverence in his voice, a tone she’d never heard from him
before.

She planted her feet on the bed and opened her
knees to expose her groomed curls to his view causing him to again
murmur in a language she couldn’t understand. Nevertheless, Leah
knew appreciation when she heard it.

Rykhan used a finger to trace the seam of her
mound. “Your wetness calls to me.”

His words might not have been the kind of
bedroom talk she heard before, but it caused a deep clench inside
her just the same.

“I need to put my
tailpor
inside you,” he
breathed as he pulled his body up and over hers. “I do not know how
to do this, but the need to do so rides me hard.”

Such beautifully honest words were Leah’s
undoing and her heart melted as she reached between them to capture
his full length in her hand. Stroking it tenderly, she shifted her
hips and pointed the ridged, mushroomed helmet of his turgid steel
at her soaked opening. “Press your hips forward, baby,” she
whispered as her hand released him on a long caress. “Sink into me,
Rykhan.”

And he did. With such a long, deep groan that
was so heartfelt, she gave up her own involuntary cry at his
fullness as it slid thick and deeply into her. When his pubic bone
pressed against hers, he raised himself up on his elbows and gazed
down at her with a genuine look of stunned wonder. “Your silky heat
encompasses me.”

“Yes,” she panted. “But this is only the
beginning, Rykhan.”

“There is more?”

“Much more, baby. Pull back and move in again,”
she advised softly, draping her feet over his calves. Following her
instructions, he begin to move, her hips providing the counter
rhythm, a delicious wet friction that had her seeing
stars.

His hips moved faster as his breath
hitched. “Oh
Tsiran
!” he groaned over and over again.

Leah wasn’t far behind him in
vocalizing how good he felt as his hard length slewed in and out of
her slick channel. Her orgasm begin to circle but he slowed a bit
and brought his gaze back to hers. “Something is about to happen,
my Leah. I do not know how to explain it other than to say
my
tailpor
is
about to erupt.”

She bit her lip in an effort not to laugh and
once she had regained control she assured him it was
normal.

“But it is something that happens when I…” she
saw his cheeks turn ruddy before he continued speaking. “When I
pleasure myself.”

“In English we call it an orgasm and I can feel
mine coming on as well,” she explained, using a hand to gently push
his hair off his sweating forehead. He turned his flushed face into
her hand, kissing her palm.

“Females erupt too?”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing, baby and
you’ll see,” she promised as his hips renewed their assault once
again, taking her to the very pinnacle of pleasure before her body
flew into millions of tiny, sharp pieces in waves so delightful she
couldn’t breathe.

Rykhan however roared his delight so loudly it
echoed against the large windows of the room. A sound which found
Leah clutching him tightly to her.

It took more than a few moments before their
bodies settled and Rykhan shifted his weight to one forearm as he
raised his eyes to hers. “Thank you for sharing yourself with me,
my Leah.”

Overwhelmed, Leah arched up in order to capture
his mouth, but before their lips met, her shoulder bumped his elbow
causing his arm, which was holding most of his weight, to slide on
the silky comforter. His body fell onto hers their two metal
armbands clanged together, sparks arcing as metal hit
metal.

Neither Leah nor Rykhan was aware of
the electrical charge released when their
wahroms
met because at the exact
moment of impact, at the precise instant of collision between the
two bracelets, both shook with climaxes so strong and of such
intensity, their thought processes ceased.

It was if their two separate bodies shared the
same explosion as an absolute blaze of bliss bound them together.
Moreover, the connection between them, both physical and mental,
throbbed deeply after its initial sharp crest, leaving them both
aching and panting in their utter satisfaction.

More than a few minutes passed before either
could stir themselves to do more than simply blink the aftershocks
of their shared joining.

“I guess that’s what Bronsyn meant when he
talked about the contact being embarrassing,” Leah offered on a
whisper as Rykhan moved out and off her until he was lying on his
back.

There was a wry smile in place as he
used both hands to sweep his hair off his face, one that Leah found
especially poignant after what they’d just done. “I agree. But next
time,
Tersa
blay
, we will make sure the action is
deliberate, yes?”

Leah found their shared laughter to be the best
sort of afterglow she’d ever experienced.

Chapter
Thirteen

“
Greetings, old friend,” Gwynt
mumbled, running a hand over his messy locks as he stared into his
private
tresl
. “To
what do I owe the honor of a personal contact, especially at this
hour?”

Bronsyn sighed. He had forgotten to check on
the time difference between Earth and the Picarian planet of Nutrol
before placing the call, but the news he had was too urgent to wait
until their regularly scheduled daily meeting. Nor did he want to
formally release the information and involve the entire Quest
Committee until he had talked it over with Gwynt first. “We have a
situation.”

The blonde man brought a cup to his lips and
Bronsyn held his tongue allowing the friend he had known since his
youth a few moments to collect himself before continuing. “One of
the warriors has found his bride.”

“
Good news, brother, but hardly
worth a personal call.” Gwynt’s voice still carried a sleepy rumble
and Bronsyn again curtailed his words. He needed the man well and
truly awake to fully understand what had transpired.

“It is, if the human female of his
choice has grown a
wahrom
in the exact shape and location as his,” Bronsyn
murmured. It took a couple of beats before Gwynt’s eyes blinked and
then widened even as the cup fell from his hand. There was the
sound of pottery breaking but the male who headed the Committee
shocked gaze never left his screen.

“
The
Posket
you say!” Gwynt sputtered,
swiping at his mouth and chin. “That’s not possible unless she
is…”

“His one true and legitimate mate.” Bronsyn
filled in the last of it when his friend could not continue. “Yes,
I know.”

“But that’s not possible! There’s no
way an Earth female could carry a
wahrom
in the same shape and location
as one of the Picari Protectorate elite!” Gwynt sputtered in
disbelief. “Are you trying to tell me those ridiculous religious
legends were true?”

“I don’t know what to think. All I know is that
she bears Protector Rykhan’s mark. I have seen it with my own
eyes.” Bronsyn shook his head at the memory of seeing the band of
bronze on the young woman’s arm that exactly mirrored the warrior
who had chosen her. The shock of it had seared Bronsyn to his
bones. “I never believed the old texts that described a true and
legitimate pairing either. But it seems there is some validity to
what the priests have been spouting since recorded
history.”

“How did she obtain it? Do all human females
have them?” Gwynt’s questions came too fast for Bronsyn to follow,
much less to fully think through, and answer. “How do we know she
didn’t just fashion it herself or had it applied by another? You
have reported of the adornments those Earthlings wear. Could this
just be a random piece of their jewelry?”

Bronsyn cleared his throat but still
his reply carried all the notes of incredulity he would felt when
his eyes had first seen it. “It grew after our warrior pressed his
mouth to hers which Protector Rykhan called a kiss. As for other
females on Earth having
wahroms
, I don’t know.” Bronsyn
closed his eyes in order to remember what the smaller blonde female
had described to the group of warriors. “By what I was told, the
metal grew on her arm overnight and was as shocking to her as it is
to us. According to my warriors, the female sought medical
attention to determine what it was and how best to remove
it.”

The image of Gwynt, even so many light years
away, showed the man’s face paling at the news. When his voice came
again, it contained only a whisper of the strength Bronsyn knew it
normally held. “She grew it? And then wanted it
removed?”

“Yes.” The fact that she had been
unwilling to initially accept
Tsiran’s
blessed gift had stunned the
quest commander as well. “But it’s not the only indication that she
is one of our Protectorates true and legitimate mate. Our warrior
believes they share the
Mycalyte
connection as well.”

“Thought-sharing! Or are they only
sharing emotions?” Gwynt’s voice had gone up an octave and another
two levels in volume. “
Gyed’s
veil, do you know what this means? How it will
affect the quest program if news of this ever gets out?”

“I do not know their level of connection yet
but I can see how this puts a new twist on our mission, old
friend.”

The older blonde male scrubbed a
hand over his face before looking again at Bronsyn through the
connection of their
tresls
. Even though the two males had
been friends as well as colleagues for most of their lives, on this
mission Gwynt was Bronsyn’s commander. “There have been
some…troubles here that I haven’t yet communicated to
you.”

Why did Bronsyn suddenly feel his body tense
and have the overwhelming need to cross his arms over his chest as
if to shield himself? “Continue, please.”

“There have been some protests about the
project on both Galaxia and Nutrol.” Gwynt’s cautious tone warned,
Bronsyn and his body tensed even more. “Rallies and gatherings have
started which dispute the need to bring female aliens in to help
our worlds.”

“
On what basis? Everyone knows
that we need females in order to repopulate!” Anger shot through
Bronsyn’s body like flash-fire. Sending out unmanned droids to seek
out and find other planets inhabited with sentient beings had been
the finest idea any of their brightest and best minds could come up
with as a solution to their problem. A
yon
later, droid six had sent back
streaming images and vids from the small, blue planet in the same
corner of the galaxy as the Picari system. Reports and pictures of
not only sentient beings but showed images of a species who
resembled their own. In Bronsyn’s opinion, both worlds had rejoiced
at the news. He did not understand how anyone could have issue with
their mission, especially to protest after the quest was underway.
“What could they possibly have a problem with?”

“Pure bred, not hybrid. That’s the slogan most
dissidents are using,” Gwynt shook his head as he spoke as if to
negate the idea. “It’s not so much the brides that the rebellious
ones are objecting to. It’s with any younglings they’ll
produce.”

“Who started that? The priests?”
Bronsyn was almost stuttering in his anger. Even in the sheltered
walls of the Galaxian monasteries dedicated to
Tsiran
, surely they were aware of the
need for off-world females in order to save their
planets!

“We’ve yet to uncover the source but
there are frequent rallies and assemblies to decry the need for
‘alien brides’ to help us reproduce and repopulate. Some are
calling it the Galaxian god,
Tsiran’s
, will or citing it as the
Nutrolian goddess
Gyed’s
judgment that our races die.” Gwynt seemed
hesitant to tell his comrade and brother-in-arms of what the talk
contained. “There’s even some that are already calling the
younglings that would result from such pairings abominations! They
do not think outsiders should be allowed to infect our
society.”

Bronsyn closed his eyes and allowed
his mind to mull over Gwynt’s words although his body was demanding
he punch something. To his knowledge, no one had protested during
the eighteen
merts
it took to build the
Searcher
and prepare for this mission. There had even been
celebrations as the starship lifted from Galaxia’s surface. So what
had caused the rebellions to rise up in his absence? “I saw no
evidence of discord when we launched.”