Secret war, p.3
Secret War, page 3
She’d been utterly claimed, the pair’s possession once more asserted. There was yet one master to declare his right to her.
Lidon had no sooner eased free of her when she was flipped onto her back. Weak from orgasm, she was unable to offer the resistance that had fled years ago.
Tranis, dark and beautiful, loomed over her, lustful intent stamped on his bearded face. He draped her trembling legs on his shoulders and pinned her limp arms over her head. She was still shaking when he plunged in her, his larger cock spearing her pussy and secondary driving in her ass. She cried out at the jolt of sheer ecstasy barreling through her, her body arching beneath him.
Having watched his clanmates take their pleasure, he was ruthless to claim his own. Cassidy’s breasts bounced under the driving assault, and he mauled them. Excited growls broke free as he lunged. She yelped in mingled fright and excitement as he fucked her relentlessly. Orgasm was already returning, promising destruction. She struggled to defend herself against it, but she was no match for the demon pounding her.
Climax leapt upon her. She screamed under its violence, which seemed to have no end. On and on, it swept through her, fed by the snarling beast riding her.
“Who does this pussy belong to?” he demanded.
“You!” she strangle-screamed.
“Who does this ass belong to?”
“You!” Another spasm tore through her, and she shook her head wildly.
“Who do you belong to?”
“You. Forever. Sweet prophets, please.”
His eyelids fluttered, and he uttered a groan. His cocks rippled in her, filling her with his cum. Marking her as he had so many times over the years.
I love you, my beautiful, tortured Dramok.
Minutes later, Tranis lay next to her, his arm slung over her waist. Lidon sat on her other side, his smile sly as Degorsk laid several objects on the foot of the bed.
“Don’t mind me. I’m just preparing for Round Two,” he said brightly.
Cassidy groaned to note he was erect. She groaned again at the sight of a crop, a vibrator, cuffs, and a butt plug he’d arranged in a neat row.
“Was that a complaint?” Lidon asked. He grabbed the vibrator.
“No! Just…just give me a minute!” She struggled to sit up, but Tranis held her down effortlessly as Lidon brought the humming device to her clit.
The world disappeared in a rush of bliss.
* * * *
Earth II
Earth’s governor Stacy Nichols gasped as her secretary Todd walked in her office and set a computer drive on her desk. She stared up at her assistant, gripping the edges of the desk she was bent over.
Her Kalquorian bodyguard Nobek Kuran held her to its surface, his grip on the back of her neck implacable. Her skirt was bunched at her waist. He drove his cocks deep in her pussy without pause despite the young man pausing to look around. For an instant, Todd’s and Stacy’s gazes met. The aide turned and walked out.
Kuran grunted and pulled free long enough to readjust. The tip of his primary settled on Stacy’s tighter hole. An instant later, he filled her ass, his secondary returning to the warmth of her soaked pussy. Stacy’s breath caught at the dual thrill of ache and pleasure.
Todd returned and checked the coffee station that kept Stacy functioning. He took the pot to the nearby sink and rinsed it as Kuran’s groin slapped Stacy’s ass in growing enthusiasm. The Nobek’s harsh breathing betrayed he was close.
Todd returned to the coffee station, humming a tune. Kuran reached, his hand skating over Stacy’s abdomen, homing in on her mound. Her vision blurred, she watched as Todd punched in the command for fresh grounds and the time they should brew.
Kuran’s fingers closed on Stacy’s clit and pinched. “Come.”
The gathering bliss billowed, eclipsing her view of her aide’s activities as it fledged to full orgasm. Stacy yelled as convulsions ripped through her, as she came despite her employee’s presence, helpless to deny her lover’s command.
After a few more strokes, Kuran joined her. His groans punctuated each jolt of his cocks as hot cum filled her ass. Stacy trembled beneath him, held powerless as he finished.
The secretary left the room, this time ordering the door closed and locked.
Kuran sighed his gratification, lazily stroking in and out of Stacy. He behaved as if he had all the time in the world. After a few seconds, he chuckled, slapped her ass a couple times to make her squeal, then stepped back.
He tucked his cocks in his armored formsuit as Stacy turned toward him. “That was a completely irresponsible use of phase devices. I should report myself.”
“You should be ashamed.” She straightened her clothing, casting an affectionate glance at the silver chevron pinned to her blouse. “Poor Todd. If he’d known we were in here invisible and fucking our brains out while he worked mere feet from us…”
“It excited you.” The muscled Nobek, brutishly handsome, stepped close and pulled Stacy’s skirt up again. His fingers slipped in her panties. He ignored Stacy’s attempts to push him away as he stroked her soaked folds.
“Haven’t you had enough?”
He wasn’t fooled by her protest. “Hold still for me, or I’ll spank your pussy.”
Stacy debated whether she wanted punishment, and if it would be the good or bad kind. Kuran’s expression hinted at neither. She opted to behave. After all, she was hungry, and she needed at least fifteen minutes of her lunch hour to eat.
I’ll misbehave later. As if she hadn’t just climaxed, her cunt flexed.
Kuran grinned as she ceased shoving at him and submitted to his fondling. His kiss was rough and endured as she came for him, crying into his mouth.
“Me fucking you while someone was in the room, even though he couldn’t see us, helped get you off. Admit it,” he growled when she’d subsided.
Unsure which direction discipline might go, fun or unpleasant, she acknowledged the truth. “Yes. It excited me.”
“Good. Now we’re done.” He stepped back, a pronounced swagger in his movements.
“Proud of yourself, aren’t you?” She tried to scowl, but a giggle escaped.
He grinned, the demeanor of deliberate command fading to mischief. He was among the few Nobeks who could pull off the youthful expression. “I’m sure I’m not the only spy to take advantage of phasing during sex. Hey! Let’s do it on Bryant’s desk.”
“Let’s not.” The thought of fucking anywhere near the lieutenant governor, whether he could witness them or not, offered no titillation for Stacy.
It reminded her of her coming campaign kickoff. They walked through her closed door and past her secretary, who was gathering his belongings to go to lunch himself.
Stacy said, “Phasing might offer us the only chance for illicit day sex during the election cycle. How much trouble would you get in if we’re caught?”
“Tons.” Kuran winked at her. “You’re worth it.”
“Not if it means losing your presence.” She sighed when they found the corridor beyond her office empty of others and Kuran switched off his phase. She reluctantly did the same and handed off the device she wasn’t supposed to be in possession of to her handsome lover. “I hate you’ll soon be unable to be seen openly around here.”
“They found my replacement quickly,” Kuran agreed.
Ken Bryant had recently discovered a former Earther ground forces captain who possessed the proper credentials to take over as head of Earth’s on-planet security, the post Kuran currently held. Anti-Kalquorian sentiment among a small but vocal section of Earth’s population, denounced as ‘Earthtiques,’ had necessitated the Nobek being replaced.
Officially. In his capacity as a spy, Kuran would be very much present, though unnoticed.
“What do you think of this Michael Adams? It worries me Ken brought him in.” Recent revelations about Stacy’s lieutenant governor and anticipated election rival had heightened her concerns about the man most supported by Earthtiques and conservative voters.
“Adams is competent. Okay, better than competent. As we planned the security for your campaign kickoff, he put forth some excellent ideas, which I agreed we should implement.” They left the building and headed for the shuttle pad.
Stacy nodded to those on Government Hall’s grounds they passed and was offered nods and smiles. She was glad many also acknowledged Kuran, ranging from polite respect to friendliness. Most humans accepted, even welcomed, the small Kalquorian presence on their planet. It was those in the minority, some of whom had lately set off crude explosives, who worried her.
“You approve of Adams?”
“So far, he hasn’t given me a reason not to. The fact Ken Bryant brought him on board is the only negative so far. I’ll probably give the General Assembly my vote of confidence when I’m called to report in a couple of weeks.” Kuran offered a comforting smile as they reached Stacy’s shuttle. “It doesn’t mean I won’t keep an eye on him for the foreseeable future.”
“About Ken—”
“I don’t have anything new to report on that front. Where are we going for lunch?”
Stacy suppressed a frown as Kuran quickly changing the subject. When it came to Earth’s second-in-charge, her bodyguard and lover had grown a lot quieter lately.
Was he hiding anything from her? Something worse than Bryant’s long-ago teenage wife?
Chapter Three
Kuran cursed himself, though he kept his expression pleasant. He slid in the pilot’s seat of the shuttle and fired the engine as if nothing off had occurred, but he hadn’t missed the searching look Stacy had given him.
He hated keeping secrets from those he cared for, particularly his would-be Matara. Becoming a spy for the Kalquorian fleet had been his best means of keeping her safe from potential attackers, however. Spying meant hiding much of what he knew.
Bryant had bigger secrets and was a bigger threat than Stacy realized. He was behind attacks on her and the Kalquorian space station orbiting Earth II, which assisted the newly populated planet. Only Bryant’s potential connections to those who might be part of a treasonous collective kept Kuran from hauling him in for a “talk.”
Kuran agreed thus far with Admiral Piras’ orders to hold off on arresting Bryant and subjecting him to interrogation. If the bastard set off another attack on Stacy, however, Kuran might choose to bring him in before alerting his superiors.
He lifted off and glanced at her, taking in the dark-eyed, black-haired beauty at his side. She’d quit studying him to bring out her handheld computer, no doubt reviewing her campaign speech again. Love surged in his fierce warrior’s heart. He hadn’t come to Earth II in hopes of finding a female for his clan, but that’s what had happened. Beyond her sexiness, she possessed a brilliant mind. He’d do anything to keep her safe.
No one fucked with his woman.
* * * *
Nobek Selt caught himself clenching his fists. He forced them open, spreading them wide and choking off the growl rising in his throat.
The head speaker of Earth II’s General Assembly had one of those faces. Haughty, made for sneering. His muddy eyes had a bulging aspect. No amount of whatever Cal Mitchell wore to keep his graying hair from budging from its perfect coif or his expensive tailored suits or his luxurious office could hide the fact he was a self-satisfied asshole of an Earthtique.
Or maybe it was just Selt who saw him as such. Presumably, Mitchell had some good qualities. His office, boasting pricey artwork on its walls and fine furnishings, attested to his success. He was leading his opponents in the polls. He had a wife and six kids, so his lifemate must have found something redeeming about him.
Ancestors, someone had sex with this guy. On multiple occasions. Since he was phased and no one could witness him do so, Selt shuddered.
The human’s gruff tone was condescending as he rocked slowly in his hover chair behind his behemoth of a desk. “Of course you find doing your job difficult, Miss Nelson. You’re only, what, twenty-two? Twenty-three?”
The object of his derision, standing on the other side of the desk, spoke in a clipped voice. “Twenty-eight, Speaker Mitchell.”
Which he knew, if he’d deemed Blythe Nelson important enough to research. Mitchell was thorough when it came to such things. Then again, he might have determined due to her age and the fact she was female, Blythe wasn’t worth investigating beyond a blatant assessment of her trim figure.
Blythe was no doubt aware of how she was regarded by the man Selt believed to be the worst of the Earthtiques, aside from terrorist-hiring Ken Bryant. To Mitchell, she was no more than a young, pretty woman. Therefore, she was a creature to simultaneously desire and revile.
Don’t defend yourself to him, Selt silently urged her. Don’t do him the honor of making his opinion important.
Her temper…or something else…had been woken, however. “The records of original Earth, for the most part, are lost. No amount of digging can uncover what no longer exists, Mr. Speaker. What I have managed to find is pass-protected and—”
“What you’ve managed to find is very little. I’m sure you did your best. Still, I can hardly pay you for a few sentences of guesswork. I’ll contact a couple of your colleagues, ask what experienced men can discover. Thank you and good day, Miss Nelson.” Mitchell waved her out of his office, his gesture negligent.
Blythe’s pixie face reddened. She turned on her low, pointed heel and marched through the door.
Selt scowled at Mitchell and hurried in her wake. He would have loved to hang around to keep an eye on the speaker and catch him doing something underhanded, but as far as the spy division knew, Mitchell was clean. An unmitigated asshole of an Earthtique, but he’d done nothing to warrant them watching him beyond his contacts with Bryant.
Yet.
Selt’s long stride kept up easily with the petite news reporter who had a penchant for digging into the histories of government officials. It was her uncanny ability to find dirt on the currently powerful which had brought her to the attention of Admiral Piras and his chief agent on Earth, Head Operative Kuran. They were interested in the information she’d uncovered, rather than Blythe herself.
She wove among the aides and representatives of the General Assembly. Traffic was heavy, thanks to everyone trying to escape for a lunch hour of peace. Despite the crowd and Blythe’s tiny stature, she was noted. Scowls erupted on faces.
Selt gave her credit. Blythe asked the legislators the most pointed questions of the journalists. She wasn’t afraid to chase after her quarry while shouting questions at the top of her lungs, a vid drone flying ahead to grab footage of whomever had attracted her well-honed sense for a story. It amused Selt to note how many powerful men and women hunched their shoulders and hurried past Blythe to avoid her.
The lovely reporter ignored them for a change. Her goal seemed to consist of escaping the General Assembly building as fast as possible. Her impish, heart-shaped face was set, her gaze pointed toward the exit.
She reached the outdoors and fairly ran down the steps. Barely two minutes later, she was at the visitors’ stretch of shuttle pads. She was soon boarding her small vessel, and Selt entered it behind her.
No sooner had the hatch closed, lending her what she believed to be utter privacy, when she burst into tears.
“Ah, fuck. Please don’t,” Selt groaned.
“Sorry shithead-asshole-motherfucker!” she screamed at no one. “Lousy fuckwad!”
At least she was crying from anger and not because her feelings had been hurt. It made it less painful to watch. Selt settled in a seat behind the pilot’s chair and gazed at her as she bawled and vented an impressive array of curse words.
He wondered if it was too late to beg Admiral Piras to allow him to return to the spyship duty he’d left to take the job on Earth.
It wasn’t that his current work was overwhelmingly personal. He had opportunities he’d enjoyed little of on board a fleet craft. On Earth, he could see his opponents up close. Could confront them. Interrogate them. Hurt them, if they deserved it, as the bastards who’d attempted to kill the governor and bomb the orbiting space station had. His enemies were no longer faceless foes he was forced to attack from a safe distance, like a pathetic coward.
His clanmates Deram and Hadlez still served on the spyship Selt had been transferred from. They’d recently been in danger, which had him second-guessing his decision to accept his current assignment without debate. He belonged at their sides, guarding them no matter how worthless he’d begun feeling his previous duty had been. If he couldn’t keep them safe, then he was fine dying trying to.
His current task wasn’t helping matters. Watching his subject be treated like shit on a regular basis, often merely because she was a woman, drained his soul. Seeing her cry, even only as a release from the terrific fury he’d learned she was capable of, strained him to the breaking point.
Blythe was an assignment, nothing more. Nonetheless, a throb of protectiveness tempted Selt to storm to Mitchell’s office and slap some decency in him. Standing by while she was insulted to the point of tears had him feeling useless again.
“Sometimes I hate this job,” Blythe snarled as she stopped crying. She took out her handheld and had it bring up a holo-mirror to check her makeup.
“Me too,” Selt said.
* * * *
Kalquor
Degorsk smiled at the young man seated on a bench in the garden area of the fleet psychiatric hospital. Unsurprisingly, Dramok Ilid failed to smile back. His morose expression was a cloud among the spring greenery.
Degorsk bowed. “Ensign Ilid, I’m Dr. Degorsk, the psychiatrist assigned to your case. It’s a privilege to meet you.”
