Forever's Not Enough (Galactic League of Planets) Page 3

  He huffed when he realized his mind had locked up again.

  The light made her dress translucent and he cursed his cock as his scan of the room was interrupted once more while he stared, captivated, by her shimmering presence in the center of the room.

  Her legs were beautiful, and he noted with a man’s eye, very, very long. Her shoulders were as broad as her hips and her oval face intelligent and noble. Little wisps of champagne colored fur outlined her cheeks and faded into sideburns that disappeared into platinum hair that was pulled up tightly on top of her head where it fell down her back in silky ringlets. A true vision of beauty.

  When he caught himself reaching for her, he pulled his hand back to his side and looked quickly at the people standing around him to see if he’d been caught. Dammit all to hell! What has she done to me?

  The crowded room burst into applause and he tugged at the collar of his dress shirt once more. What the hell happened to the air conditioning in this place? It’s hot as hell in here.

  And there she was. Smiling. His chest puffed when he realized her eyes were searching for him.

  And then Crenshaw appeared at her side, and he had a sudden urge to pull his dress saber from its sheath and see how sharp it was.

  Pulling her chair away from the ornately set table, he smiled and bowed slightly as Madame Ambassador sat, her shoulder brushing his fingers as he pushed forward.

  “Thank you, Sergeant. How thoughtful.”

  He was getting used to the purr and actually kind of liked it.

  Sitting on her right he pulled the linen napkin into his lap and cursed himself again when he saw his hand shake.

  “So, Madame Ambassador, I hope your stay has been pleasant.” Crenshaw managed to make even small talk sound like a sarcastic barb.

  He caught a flash of anger in the ambassador’s eyes before she looked away to answer.

  Something’s wrong. He was sure of it. And not just between Madame Ambassador and Crenshaw. It was him. His hands shook, his knees trembled like an old woman’s, he felt flushed, and he was sure his brow was sweating. As much as the thought bothered him, what bothered him even more, he was going to have to leave and report to the infirmary.

  Resolve set in, and pushing on his knees to stand, he leaned toward the Ambassador, a mistake in itself, and whispered, “I must apologize, Madame Ambassador, but I’m not feeling quite myself. I think I should go find a doctor.”

  It was overwhelming and he thought he’d pass out. The warm musky smell behind her ear nearly did him in.

  Her smile and concern were both genuine, at least he thought it was, when she disengaged Crenshaw and turned on him to whisper urgently, “Please, Sergeant. I think I can explain if you’ll just sit back down. I just have to make an appearance and then we can go someplace…quieter to talk about it.”

  Her hand fell gently, soothingly, on his and it wasn’t a question of willingness. It was a question of not breaking the finely carved piece of wooden furniture when he fell back with a grunt into his chair.

  He felt dizzy and tried to clear the cobwebs while, her hand still resting on his, she turned back to Crenshaw and continued to speak. The chatter in the room had grown to an annoying roar and he noted something green had been put into his soup dish.

  He was unable to follow the conversation and had no idea why. He could only discern that Madame Ambassador was not only angry, she was pissed as hell.

  Music began, and he slumped back into his chair and tried to stop the spinning. The word poison floated to the top of what little consciousness he still clung to and he struggled to sit up straight.

  Her face appeared in the haze the room had become and he heard, “Be still, my darling. I will make it well soon.”

  My darling? She will make it well? A part of him struggled to gain his freedom from the small delicate hand that, still resting on his, seemed to have pinned him to his chair.

  Another part smiled and felt comforted.

  His last coherent thought was “Death by she-cat,” and he engaged in a very juvenile and unmanly activity. He tried to stop it. The struggle became the center of his universe, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not stop giggling.

  * * * *

  “Praaaannnnnnn!”

  What am I to do with you? She looked at her tree propped in the doorway of her suite, his black dress uniform askew, a crooked grin on his face, and his cock raging in his slacks. Oh, my Bast!

  “Praaaaaaaannnnnnn!”

  She couldn’t help it. There was no way to stop the purring and it was entirely too pleasant to worry about anyway.

  “Princess!”

  “You have to help me. Be quick. We must get him inside before Crenshaw discovers I’ve left the dinner.”

  “But what have you done, Peenzan? What are we to…” Pran stopped and stared.

  “Yes,” she purred contentedly, “Isn’t it amazing?”

  The entire time Pran pulled and prodded the giant she protested, “But, Princess, it will kill you! It isn’t physically possible!”

  She swallowed several times and shot back, “Nonsense, Pran. We’re all made the same. I’m not made any different.” Then she rethought that. “Well, much different from the women of his own planet.”

  They both watched the sergeant stagger along mumbling.

  She pulled on his big hand while Pran went back to close and lock the suite door.

  “Oh.” His eyes brightened, and he smiled at her and said, “There you are.”

  “Yes, my darling. I’m right here. But you must follow me. You must keep walking. Please, my love.” And she kept tugging his big hand.

  When his other hand came up to trap her, she ducked and giggled, “Praaaaaannnnn!”

  “You must stop purring! It only makes it worse!”

  She swallowed and managed, “I know. You’re right. Let me go prepare and you bring him to me.”

  * * * *

  The spin his world was in slowly came to a stop and he was staring at a crystal chandelier. He scowled when he realized how the colors had captivated him. Then he found a new word for how he felt and blushed. Goofy. He felt goofy. Like being drunk, but better.

  He brought his fingers to his temple expecting it to start throbbing any second. Did I get drunk? Again? Where am I? Rolling to his side he discovered a bed beneath him. Then, with a shock, he discovered he was completely naked.

  Slapping his cheek he tried to wake from the dream.

  “Darling, it will be better soon.”

  He smiled at her soft purring words. Better. Yes. Better is good.

  His head jerked and there she was. Still in the gown she’d worn to the dinner, leaning over him, a look of concern on her face.

  He shoved her away roughly and swung his feet over the edge of the mattress, “What the hell am I doing here?” His face tightened into hard scrutiny and he demanded, “And what have you done to me?”

  She’d retreated to a corner and regarded him with a soft smile.

  When she didn’t answer he pushed up and stepped away from the bed, and immediately regretted it. The room became hazy and his head started to spin. Again. Hands, her hands, were on him, guiding him back to the bed.

  “I’m sorry, darling. I know it’s all confusing, and in some way unfair, but you really have to trust me when I say your world will be right again.”

  As a warrior he made a mental inventory. Nothing hurt or seemed to be broken. He caught a flash of silver in the corner of his vision and discovered a letter opener he could use as a weapon. His legs and arms seemed to work. Well, sort of.

  “Right,” he huffed. “Then explain what I’m doing on a bed naked with you hovering over me?”

  “I…”

  “Will you stop that blasted… I don’t know what it is, but will you stop talking like that?”

  He didn’t really want her to stop, but he felt better having made some kind of demand.

  He watched her swallow and heard her say in a normal voice, “I’m so
rry, my darling…”

  “And why do you keep calling me your darling?”

  She swallowed again, “Yes, I guess it is all confusing and you may not understand at first…”

  And he tuned her out completely. He realized what he was doing when he did it. But he’d discovered something much more urgent.

  My God she’s beautiful. Her ears seemed flushed, or something. They looked almost a chocolate brown color. And the tip of her nose. How odd, and he decided, how delightful. His cock was so hard it hurt and every time he pondered the state of his cock his gaze was drawn to her.

  Her cheeks were flushed as well. A light champagne color. He had an overpowering urge to inspect the rest of her body and see if it was changing colors as well. When he caught her tongue flicking between her lips he was possessed by the desire to have her. Then he realized she was still talking. What had she said?

  “…so, I’ve looked for a word for it and I may have found one. I’m not sure if it’s the right one or not, but unfortunately my love, you’re in heat.”

  Pushing up from the bed he lunged just as he realized what she’d said. In heat? He froze, his hands on her shoulders, and croaked, “Like a dog?”

  “Well, I guess you could say that.”

  He didn’t know what she was talking about and didn’t care. In one sweep he shoved her gown off her shoulders, lifted her in his arms and pulled her to his chest, his mouth finding hers, their tongues tangling, his heart pounding like a bass drum.

  She was light, and seemed to float on the tips of his fingers and his lips. Her small sigh accented the soft vibration he felt against his chest.

  Taking a step he threw her on the bed and grabbed her gown where it was tangled around her feet and ripped it free, letting it float over his shoulder.

  Her lips parted and she started to pant, her small breasts heaving, and he noted her nipples blushing a chocolate brown that matched her ears.

  Falling on the bed at her feet he kissed a toe. He couldn’t explain why, it was nothing that had ever come into his head before, but he started licking the inside of her ankle and she squeaked.

  Touching her leg he discovered a small covering of fur like peach fuzz but much softer on the back of her calf and he smiled as he ran his tongue through it.

  Kissing the inside of her knee, he found pale bare skin and sucked gently before moving further up.

  “My love,” she mewed.

  Then he discovered it. The source of her fragrance. The inside of her thigh was sweet with it. He ran his tongue up and down trying to capture it, to possess it, to have it all, and he heard her moan.

  His hands pushed roughly and her legs fell akimbo around his shoulders. Something told him there was more and he searched for it with his tongue. When he found her weeping slit he inhaled deeply and thought his heart would explode.

  Exploring further with his tongue, he found the same silky peach fuzz he’d found on the back of her calf covering her small swollen lips. His nose bumped when his rough tongue drew up and came away covered in her dewy musk.

  Just as the winds of a torment reveal a calm spot in their center, he suddenly felt at ease. He marveled at the wash of tranquility and satisfaction that came over him. He could find no words for it other than coming home. Licking again, he smiled as one quest ended and a second began.

  He had no other thought other than satisfying his enchantress as he dug in her sopping folds until he found her swollen nub where he sucked and played while her legs jerked and writhed around his shoulders.

  “Yes,” he whispered reverently and lifted his mouth so he could see the source of his delight. He was amazed to find her heavy lips and the skin around them flushing the same chocolate color as her ears and the tip of her nose.

  With no idea why, he smiled smugly and nuzzled, his nose pushing, his tongue digging.

  “Yes,” she purred and he felt her fingers in his short-cropped hair pulling desperately.

  Following a ridge of short silky fuzz, he kissed to her navel and found it bare. His hands found her hips and he pressed his shoulders between her thighs, spreading her more.

  “Please,” she purred, pleading, pulling harder, and he smiled lasciviously, ignoring her pleas, picked up the trail again above her navel and followed it up her stomach. Then he could feel it. It evoked feelings of warmth, joy, and happiness, and made his heart pound even harder. At the bottom of her breastbone he felt her skin and muscles vibrate in a soothing purr that deepened to a rattle when he licked a chocolate tipped nipple that exploded in a hot swell between his lips.

  She was whimpering and pulling, her small hands on his shoulders, and when he looked up from the breast he was suckling, he saw tears on her cheeks, her mouth open in a silent scream.

  Her expression more than her guttural mew evoked him to act, and his big hands planted on each side of her shoulders, he scooted up, arched his back, and probed with his hard cock.

  Her hands came up and he felt her fingers lace behind his neck just as the head of his cock found home. His muscles bulged, his chest and stomach tight as he held himself up and teased with the head of his cock, letting it slide in and pop out.

  “Please,” she pleaded again and he heard her purr deepen even more.

  An inch and she grunted. Another, and she pulled her legs up and found his back. With the third she pulled herself up and clung to his body, her small breasts and chest pressed into his, and he could stand it no more.

  With a groan he fell, trapping her beneath him, and finding a leg and pulling it up, he buried all fourteen inches of his cock, then watched her eyes roll up in her head and her lids drop.

  Her hands had moved and she was tearing at his shoulders, her nails digging, and her mouth searching his face for his lips.

  Then he moved, and his cock slid out and back in.

  Her lips were on his and she moaned around his tongue as he started his cock moving again.

  Her hands found his face and pushed it away, her mouth locked in that same silent scream and he pushed in again finding his stride.

  He watched her lips darken and heard her breathing stop, with it, her purring. When his cock sought her silky embrace, she exploded beneath him in a fit of tears and sobs, her hips pushed hard against his, his cock buried and her purring the only thing he could hear.

  She was limp as a rag when he pushed against her feet and, driven by nothing but lust and desire, drove for release. Her purring resonated against his chest and he could feel it from the top of his head to the tip of his toes and all the way to the end of his cock.

  His eyes closed when he felt the burn start and the pull on his loins. When her lips found his, he fell on her chest and her purr consumed him, as his body jerking, his strength draining quickly, he filled her with his seed.

  She held his head and kissed every inch of it, all the time sobbing, “My love, my darling. Yes, my love. I’m yours, my love. Forever, my love.”

  Somewhere in the nebula they fell into he recalled Radd’s words about killer purrs and smiled, pulling her hard against his chest and whispered, “Forever’s not enough…”

  Chapter Two

  She heard the door slide open and saw the light in the room come up slightly. She was still purring, curled beneath his chest when she heard the first loud smack.

  “What done you with her, brute!”

  Another loud smack and her mate stirred.

  “You kill my princess and body gone!”

  When the next smack fell, her sleepy-eyed giant raised a heavy arm and reached behind him. With a jerk, a belt and a protesting Pran appeared as she tumbled onto the bed with them.

  Seeing he’d fallen back to sleep she whispered in Meline, “I’m here, Pran,” and peeked around his wide shoulders.

  “Princess!” she hissed, “Are you all right? How bad did he hurt you? Oh my, Peenzan, I could hear it. I could hear the brute. It must have been terrible.” But her wide-eyed amazement was in sharp contrast to her words of concern.

>   With a soft breath on his nose and a gentle shove with a single finger against his chest, her sleeping giant rolled onto his back, his thick cock curling on his thigh, and she slid off the bed and grabbed Pran’s wrist, pulling her into the cleaning room, her back-fall swishing after her.

  “My Bast, Pran, it was wonderful! It was more than I had ever expected!”

  “But,” and she smiled when Pran snuck back to the door, gazed on the human’s sleeping form, and returned, her eyes the size of the Queen moon on Meline, “He’s huge! How on earth did you, well, I mean, surely you didn’t!”

  “Don’t be silly. Of course we did.” And she sounded as smug as she felt.

  “Oh, you must tell me everything.”

  “I will tell you nothing,” she teased, “And you will find the queen. I must speak with her.”

  * * * *

  When he opened his eyes, the same chandelier was looking down on him. Dragging his arm through a tangle of sheets, he looked around and saw he was still naked.

  “What a dream.” He shook his head, rolling to the edge of the mattress. He recalled something about standing up and getting dizzy, and decided to take it slow.

  Looking around the room, he muttered, “What the fu…”

  “You’re up, my love. How wonderful.”

  He stared, inspecting Madame Ambassador from naked head to naked toe, before saying, “Aren’t you the…”

  “Yes, darling, I am.”

  Looking around he thought of another question, “Is this your bedr…”

  “Yes, my love, it is.”

  When he rubbed his hand across his face, it made a dry sandpaper sound and his eyes went back to Madame Ambassador, “Did we…?”

  When she stepped close, he could smell it. Without asking, he knew what it was. It was them. When she lifted her back-fall to sit on his thigh, he stared. When she leaned into his chest and purred softly he remembered.

  When a young woman, the same young woman he’d met the night before, barged in, he stood with a jerk, and without realizing it, grabbed Madame Ambassador around the waist and saved her from tumbling to the floor.