New World--Stay with Me, page 17
“I fantasize about you biting me right here,” I palmed my breasts, squeezing roughly. “Leaving your mark right next to my heart.”
Cedra shifted in her seat and I slid a little farther down her thighs. Any closer and I would be flush against her chest.
“Cheater,” I admonished, although my words were weakened by the undertone of obvious need.
I pressed both hands against my breasts now, pinching, kneading, trying to simulate her hands on me.
My lips felt needy, pouty. Gods, I ached to have her mouth on mine. Kissing, suckling, taking. Instead, I bit my lower lip.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” Her words caressed me like an erotic whisper and I shivered.
I could feel how wet I’d become. The thin white panties I’d stitched for myself were soaked through and clinging to my lips. I knew she could see it, smell it.
“I can,” she replied out loud, catching my thought. “But you get wetter with my tongue in you.”
Her words zipped straight to my pussy and my fingers were quick to follow.
I was too turned on to be embarrassed by the thick layer of wetness I had to surpass before I could reach my clit. But with that first touch, I moaned, throwing my head back.
Cedra probably thought I was a tease. With my panties in the way, all she could see was the outline of my fingers working my wet flesh.
I barely even finished the thought before the soft fabric was ripped away at the seams.
I gasped, opening my eyes. My panties were now just a layer of torn fabric.
“I didn’t touch you,” Cedra growled. “I’m playing by your rules.”
The aggressive move swept through me like flames, burning a trail of need, a need so hot. I swallowed, my fingers poised over my clit. Well, yes, she was right. She hadn’t touched me, not even for a second. But why did I feel a fresh burst of wetness against my fingertips?
I leaned back slightly, using my left hand to reach behind and balance myself on Cedra’s knee. I knew it put me on display, silver moonlight bouncing against my skin as I moved, my hips making little rotations against my seeking finger.
I’d never felt so bold before, so powerful. It felt like my life’s purpose was to be watched by Cedra’s hungry eyes, feel her low growls reverberating through our bodies. I felt as though her whole being was at the mercy of my single, wet finger.
Tiny zips of pleasure guided me as I rode my finger, creating little circles around my clit.
Then, with a wet, obscene squelch, I fit two fingers inside me. The burst of pleasure reduced my voice into little hiccups and I shuddered on top of her, thighs clenching around her. I held my fingers still for a moment, savoring the pleasure.
The room echoed with a breathy moan.
When my eyes opened again, Cedra wasn’t looking at my pussy, as I’d imagined. Instead, her eyes were trained on my face, as though she were partaking in my pleasure. And gods, I wanted her to share this with me.
I withdrew my fingers, trailing a wet smudge across my bare thighs. I raised them to her lips, barely getting out the word “suck” before her mouth closed over them. Deep, wet, hot. Her tongue ran over them, between them, sucking, licking me clean.
All the while her eyes never left mine.
My breath became shallow as she released my fingers with a soft pop. Her lips were wet with traces of my juices and she made a show of getting every last drop with her tongue.
My fingers returned to my pussy, greedy now to get to the end. My hips began the now-natural undulations on their own and gasps parted my lips and my fingers led them in a dance of pleasure.
Sounds of my wetness echoed in the room as my fingers moved in and out erratically, setting an erotic rhythm only we were privy to.
And then I tipped over the edge, shuddering over her, fingers pressed deep inside me, gargled sounds emanating from my parted lips.
I felt her legs tilt upwards to support me as my body slackened, and I slid down to rest against her chest. My face found the crook of her neck and I breathed heavily against the smooth skin there.
As I caught my breath, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped my lips. “Never done that before.”
“I’m glad you had fun, ’mara,” Cedra’s said. “Now it’s my turn.”
I squealed as she slid us to the floor, covering me from head to toe with her body.
Cedra
I awoke with a start, senses heightened and on high alert. There was a scuffle in the field outside, the sound of a heavy boot thudding into the soft earth.
Twyla still slept by my side, snoring lightly in her sleep. Her face was tucked into the crook of my arm—her favorite place to curl up. I always joked that the smell wouldn’t be so pleasant when the weather got warmer.
But now, I tried to extract myself without waking her, silently grabbing the undershirt that hung on the bedpost. I slipped it over my sleep trousers and kept to the dark corner of the room as I made way towards the large bay windows.
But the scuffling noise had ceased. In fact, everything was utterly still out there. Unnervingly so. Usually, if I focused hard enough, I could hear a field mouse or two scavenging in the night, their little feet scurrying noisily in the soil in search of scraps of food.
But not tonight; tonight, everything was still.
The windows were shut tight, and I bemoaned closing them before going to bed. The power outage left me at a disadvantage—while my night vision was good, it wasn’t perfect. And I couldn’t see past a certain distance. I wanted to get a deep breath of the night air to sense if anyone was nearby. But if I cracked a window open, would it alert whoever lingered in the fields?
I crouched low, peering into the darkness. My cheek was pressed to the edge of the glass, my breath shallow as I narrowed in on the spot where the scuffle had come from.
There was no movement, no sound.
My breath fogged the edge of the window and my thighs began to cramp in that position on the floor. Still, something told me to stay put. It wasn’t safe. It didn’t feel safe.
The explosion propelled me backwards and I hit the wall, shoulder-first. Shards of glass, reflecting the moonlight, sprayed in every direction. And when I opened my eyes, a being stood in my bedroom, covered head to toe in black combat gear. Weapons like I’d never seen hung from her belt, the uses of which I could only guess at. From the slight frame, I could tell it was female. And its eyes were focused solely on Twyla’s shocked form on the bed.
Neither of them saw me crouched in the corner.
“Finally,” the intruder said, her voice higher than expected. “Twyla Oboid, we are under oath with your father, Tage Oboid, to bring you back to your residence in Sector A on Royal One. You have two standard minutes to pack up anything of importance.”
Twyla stood, her eyes defiant, even as I watched her shoulders tremble. Glass shards clattered off the bed and onto the floor. “I am not leaving. You won’t make me.”
I am not a violent person. As a rancher, I’d been raised to show kindness and compassion, and learned to treat people and animals the same way from an early age. I say this because what I did to the intruder doesn’t reflect how I was brought up.
The only part of the intruder that was exposed was the gap between the back of her helmet and suit—a small expanse of neck. My fist collided with that space so hard, I heard a crack run up the helmet. Blinding pain exploded in my hand as I watched the intruder’s knees buckle and hit the floor like dead weight.
I felt a trickle run down my knuckles and knew I was bleeding. There was no time for that now. We needed to get somewhere safe before this person woke up.
“No! Cedra, watch out—”
It was the last thing I heard as a paralyzing pain erupted from the back of my skull.
Twyla
A ragged scream left my mouth as blood spurted from the back of Cedra’s skull. It splattered on the pitch-black combat suit of the hunters who’d slipped in quietly behind her, the blood seeping quickly into the material as though it was water and not the blood of my love who lay crumpled on the floor.
My vision tunneled and I could hear a scream in the distance. I knew it was mine, but it felt foreign, almost too far away for it to be true. I’d never heard such anguish, never felt such clawing pain.
Shards of glass shred the skin of my knees and palms as I scrambled to get closer to Cedra on the floor. Frantic pants filled my ears and echoed through my body. I needed to stop the blood. With my hands, my shirt. I needed to feel her heartbeat to make sure she was still alive.
Everything seemed to slow down. As I reached for Cedra, I felt two strong arms twine around my waist, pulling me away.
I fought against the twin bands of steel, thrashing this way and that like a trapped animal. I was begging, my pleas to be let go falling on deaf ears.
Tears dripped down the sides of my face, but I barely noticed. My eyes were locked on Cedra, still unmoving, rivulets of blood gushing out of the back of her head.
Please, please, please. Did I say those words out loud or were they a desperate prayer? I didn’t know. My Mate. My Mate. My Mate.
I heard a transmitter crackling and a low male voice saying, “Target acquired. Tank to pick up. I repeat, tank to pick up.”
Almost immediately, I heard something whiz down from the sky. A black transport carrier—or tank for short—blended in seamlessly with the night. Eight sturdy legs extended from the base and planted carefully on the dirt, crushing the tall grass around it.
A short set of stairs extended from its small entryway, hitting the ground with a soft thud.
It was the finality of that thud that set me moving again. I jabbed my elbow sharply into the person holding me. With a surprised grunt, they loosened their grip for a fraction of a second, but it was enough. I turned and ran, jumping over the prone body of the first person Cedra had felled.
I’d almost made it to the front door when I felt a sharp, insistent prick on the back of my shoulder.
Numbness spread through my limbs quickly but my brain took longer to follow. It screamed when my mouth couldn’t, fought the fog when it threatened to close around me quickly with a degree of finality.
There were arms around me again, hauling me to my feet where I’d fallen, just shy of the front door.
“She landed on her face, dumbass,” I heard the masculine voice grunt admonishingly. “If she’s bruised or hurt, he won’t pay us the full fee.”
“She’ll be fine.” I felt fingers on my chin, turning my face this way and that in the moonlight.
I was now a stringless puppet, slumped against whoever held me. I could control nothing but basic thoughts. And my only reverberating thought was Cedra.
I had no control over my body. I felt saliva pool in my mouth and dribble down the side of my lips. A hand swiped across my face, surprisingly gentle.
“Let’s get you home, girl.”
Home?! I wanted to yell that home meant nothing if it wasn’t beside Cedra, but I couldn’t fight the fog anymore. As they dragged me out the door, the tank loomed dark and dangerous under the night sky.
My last fear as darkness crept into the edges of my vision was that I might never set foot on this Star ever again.
Cedra
“Hush.” Through the fevered pounding in my head, I thought I heard Ana’s voice. “I’ve got you, Cee.”
I tried to raise my head, but a blinding flash of pain drew a groan from my lips instead.
“Twyla...”
“You should rest,” Ana coaxed. “You have a nasty gash at the back of your head. I’ve sealed the wound.”
“Twyla,” I said again, a little stronger this time. My fingers blindly reached for my friend, trying to absorb some of her strength.
Ana’s hesitation pulsed in the air around us. Her fingers cupped mine, holding them tight as she murmured, “They took her, Cee. I’m so sorry.”
For a moment, I couldn’t summon the energy to speak. Pain stabbed through my chest, making the raw gash on my head feel like child’s play.
I wanted to scream—tell the gods to return what they’d so cruelly taken away. It was heartless to let me experience such perfect bliss and have a little taste of what life could be, before snatching it back without remorse.
A sharp pinch on my arm made me jerk.
“Just a shot for pain,” Ana explained, her voice exuding the calm I so desperately needed.
All I could see was Twyla’s face twisted in a mask of grief as I collapsed onto the floor, still reaching for her as I fell.
“Get her back,” I whispered, my throat painfully dry. “I have to get her back.”
Ana’s hand squeezed down on my own.
“Of course we will,” she assured me, her voice steely with determination. “They’re not allowed to sneak onto our Star and take our girl.”
“My girl,” I corrected her.
Ana’s soft laugh did nothing to calm the riot in my chest.
“Yes, your girl,” she confirmed. “Do you know where they took her? Their tank didn’t have a logo or a number plate. Couldn’t track them on the peacekeeper’s network.”
“Not supposed to use the network anymore. You’re retired.” It was getting easier to speak, the pain receding just a touch. I let my eyes blink open, adjusting to the low light in my bedroom. I was still lying where I’d fallen, glass shards littering the floor.
Ana gave me a bemused look. “Do you want me to follow the rules or find Twyla?”
“Fine,” I grumbled. “Just don’t get in trouble.”
“Can you sit up?”
She placed an arm around my shoulder, pulling me up as best she could and setting my back against the wall. Broken glass crackled under me as I moved each limb experimentally, forcing my fists to unclench so I could take stock of my body.
“I can’t believe they took her.”
I ran a hand through my hair, only to come away with a smear of blood.
“Shit.” Ana’s cursed ended on a hiss. “I’ll get you a towel. Hang on.”
I grabbed her before she could move, leaving a little trail of blood on her forearm.
“No time,” I insisted, using her arm as leverage to get to my feet. “I know Twyla’s parents hired these hunters, so they must be taking her home.”
“Home?” Ana repeated. “On Royal One? I can look up their address.”
I nodded. “Yes, but they have a few homes, not just on Royal One.”
“Great,” Ana groused. “I’ll look them all up then. Try and figure out where they’ve taken her.”
She paused for a moment, mulling her options. “Or I can call for reinforcements.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, setting one foot in front of the other and fighting the burst of nausea that the movements awakened.
“You’ll see,” she replied, reaching into her pocket for her Touch.
As she typed furiously on her device, I dragged shuddering breaths into my lungs, fighting the panic that sat in my chest like an immovable stone. With each inhale, I could still smell Twyla in the air, her floral-iron scent clinging to our sheets, our pillows, our everything. I held each breath for as long as I could, treasuring even the smallest part of her that remained in this room.
I’d almost forgotten what grief felt like—in Twyla’s arms, she made it seem like life was easy. In truth, without her presence by my side, I felt the old claws of grief and fears of abandonment creeping back in, tearing through the neat line of stitches I’d sewn over the old wounds.
She didn’t want to go, I reminded myself. She didn’t want to leave me.
The thought gave me a little more strength—just a spark of hope clamoring between panic and pain.
I stood in front of the broken window, tilting my head to the breeze. The night sky spread out in front of me like an endless glittering canvas.
Somewhere in this great cluster was the other half of my heart, and I knew beyond doubt that she longed to come home.
* * *
Ana guided me back to her living room, stuffing a few iron replacers into my mouth as I wavered on my feet.
I swallowed the pills gratefully. Despite the painkiller, my body felt cold and weak, limbs on the verge of trembling.
Ana had checked again and assured me that the wound was only skin-deep but that I’d need stitches if the sealant didn’t work, but my mind wasn’t on that. My vision still constantly swam with images of Twyla, screaming, reaching for me as I was knocked unconscious.
I couldn’t unsee it. I couldn’t unhear her scream of desperation.
As each second ticked away, I was finally able to wrap my mind around what was truly bothering me. It wasn’t the throbbing pain in my head or the nausea that threatened to overwhelm me. It was the fact that I’d let her down—my Blood Mate. I hadn’t been able to protect her.
I was alone in my head now. No errant thoughts from that beautiful voice, no extra heartbeat behind my temple. Nothing. After getting used to the feeling of her inside me, the emptiness was nauseating.
The more I wished for it, the further I reached for that connection, the more I realized how truly alone I now was, how I’d lost her...how all I had left of her was her screams.
Gingerly, I peeled the undershirt off my body and stuffed it into the disposal bin beside me. Ana had laid out a change of clothes and sanitizing cloths, and I swiped the latter over my body gratefully, removing the streaks of blood that ran down my shoulder and arms.
Ana was standing a few feet away with her back to me, tapping furiously into her Touch, her muscles taut with tension. I briefly wondered how Ana had known that something was going on. Those hunters had been so quiet that I’d barely heard them until it was too late. Had she heard the shattering glass all the way across the field? Had she heard Twyla’s screams, her pleas?
