Hollow Space (3 page)

A fresh set of trembles rocked up her body. About ready to shatter, her desire making her shiver so hard her teeth were about to stop chattering together, Jada pulled her head away. Leaning her head against his chest, she was about to drop to her knees and beg him to fuck her when he lifted her in his arms and carried her to another doorway.

The panel opened with a soft swish. He placed her in the middle of an enormous bed. With a tenderness belying his strength, he pulled her arms from around his neck.

“Relax, I won’t hurt you,
t
esra
.”

Relaxing was the furthest thing from her mind. The crystal nestled between her breasts began to throb. The symbiotic attachment had it mimicking her physical reactions to him. “Oh my,” she whispered when he pulled his shirt over his head.

She audibly swallowed. Taking in the expanse of tanned skin, she licked her lips. Her already hard nipples tightened to painful nubs, and a fresh burst of moisture dampened her panties.

“Tonight is all about you and the pleasure I can bring you.”

She turned her head away. Not because she wasn’t so sure he could slake the mating lust or that they would find pleasure in each other’s arms but because she heard music. It was so faint that she strained to hear it. The woebegone notes of a flute wrapped around her body, dragging her down into a world where there were only careening sensations riding her energized nervous system and him.

“You hear it. The mating call.” He nodded. “That is a good sign.” He reclined beside her. He brushed an errant lock of her hair away from her face.

Her charged body shifted against his. The tight buds of her nipples brushed his bare arm. He levered her leg over his hip. Her skirt rode up with the move. Cool air wafted over the soaked crotch of her panties. Her inner thigh rested against the bulge of his cock. Unbidden, her fingers twined in the long strands of his black hair.

It was the slow path his hand took toward her crotch that brought her firmly back beneath the passionate spell he wove around her. The music grew louder. A driving rhythm shouted in her head when their gazes met and locked. Her
infanteum crystallae
pulsed with energy.

She was about to demand he end this exquisite torture when he flicked his index finger across her damp panties.
“Yes.” So close to an orgasm she could almost taste the bliss, she tugged on his hair. “Please.”

Panting, she clung to him.

Held to him by the arm he slid around her body, she gasped when he kissed her. His tongue mated with hers in the same instant he moved the elastic band aside to stroke her wet folds.
Now. Now. Now.

A shudder raced the length of her spine when he swirled his finger around her over-sensitized clit. On her whimper, he inserted his finger into her channel and started a slow ride. He added another to the mix, and then another.

Gasping, she ripped her mouth from his and hid her face in the crook of his shoulder. Her climax built. The
infanteum crystallae
grew white hot. She closed her eyes as the first tremors of her orgasm shifted down her pussy. “Yes.”

Her fingernails dug into his shoulders. “Yes!”

All the sensations socking through her mingled, combined, and then collided in a climax that made her scream. Deep, driving contractions shot from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

And I thought the Navorains were sexually immature. Fardin frig, they could teach the Dareauxians a thing or two about mating.

His silent chuckle snapped her gaze to the chiseled planes of his face. “Are you purposefully not thinking?” she demanded to know.

“Once we have finished the mating, I will answer your question.”

What else can I do?
Considering her orgasm had yet to let off and an instinct greater than that which had drawn her to the
infanteum crystallae
told her to trust this warrior.

She watched a frown crease his brow. He rose to his impressive, almost omnipresent, height. He offered her his hand.

Without thinking, she laid her fingers in his palm. Once she was on her feet, he brushed his hands down her back to let them rest on the swell of her buttocks. “Now, we will continue.”

The music she’d heard only a few minutes ago drifted away.

“Undress for me.”

Pulling up the last vestiges of her self-discipline, understanding she’d broken so many Community laws it wasn’t funny, she did as he asked.
Screw the Community. He
’
s my mate. They can
’
t fight that truth.

He cocked an eyebrow when her fingers faltered.

“Let off all your worries, Jada.”

The sound of her name coming from him had the sexual thrum returning tenfold. The music returned. Pushing all her concerns away, she pulled her shirt off and laid it at the foot of the bed. Her camisole followed.

“Just listen to the music.”

His whisper wafted her hair as she straightened the long strands as best she could.

“Let it take us both into oblivion.”

For a split second, he pictured a bleak nothingness. She undid the closure at the top of her skirt and thrust it down along with her panties. A sudden jolt of fear that the New Chastity Party would reject their mating struck her hard. She toed off her shoes as cutting clarity struck the lust building in her to dust.

The music turned dull—lifeless.

If she couldn’t have her mate after they consummated the binding, her
infanteum crystallae
would die. She would expire soon after the glow left the crystal. If she didn’t go through with the mating, both she and the slice of D-quarterline would mourn his loss, but they would survive and, perhaps, at some point in the distant future, find another suitable mate.

“Don’t worry,” he soothed her. He took the step separating them. “Let the music inside you. Only there can it work its magic.” He raked his teeth down the long column of her neck. “Feel it with me. Close your eyes. See the music.”

“I can’t.” She closed her eyes to hide the tears welling in them.
You don
’
t know what you are asking of me.
The rustle of him removing the rest of his clothes snapped her eyelids open. “We should stop.”

“Is that what you really want?” he asked. His tone was as devoid of emotion as an empty grave. “Does the New Chastity Party terrify you so much?”

“Yes. No.” She tossed her hands up in the air in a mixture of frustration and exasperation. Spinning around, she stared at the mussed jewel-tone coverlet draped across his bed. “I don’t know.”

He had the unmitigated gall to chuckle at her. “You forget I am the Supreme Commander of a War Galley. My kind is a parent strain. The New Chastity Party has no power over me—us.”

“But they have power over my people.” She felt him enter her three feet of personal space. He wrapped his arms around her waist. She knew he was trying to comfort her, but her duty had raised its ugly head.

She took a deep breath and removed her gloves, ignoring the tiny sparks of energy shooting from him.
How do I explain this to you?
“If they denounce my kind for what they deem illicit sexual activity, it could mean the end of the Dareauxians’ ability to tend to the common crystals found in most technology.” Technology that was so prevalent across the galaxy that the ramifications of losing their only means of intergalactic space travel was nothing short of a nightmare. In the back of her head, she could hear thousands of common crystals shrieking in pain.

Gentle kisses caressed her right shoulder blade. “Don’t overthink this.”

It
’
s not like I have a choice.
A haze flooded her mind, ripping the concerns from her psyche. It was a fog where she knew she was alive and her duty no longer existed. Goosebumps rose on her arms as his hands slid upward to weigh her breasts. Quick jolts of pain careened from his fingers pinching her breasts straight to her core.

The music filtered in on her.

“You make me so hard for you,” he admitted gravely. “If I could, I would keep you naked all our days together.”

She opened her mouth to say if they were on Dareaux they could do whatever they wanted. The music and gloriously warm haze stole all her commonsense away.

Her
infanteum crystallae
no longer mourned the end of a relationship not yet begun but instead urged her to follow the Dareauxian mating ritual. A soft sprinkling of dust patted down on her from the ceiling. A coil of heat took root in her belly and soon turned to an inferno when she dropped to her knees.

Wrapping her fingers around his thick shaft, she blew out a breath. She licked away the tear of pre-cum pooling on the slit. With infinite care, she took the head into her mouth.

“No,
t
esra
. Stop.”

Her libido went in to hyperdrive when she took more of his length down her throat. Every moan from her was like manna from the gods of old. She took him farther and farther down her throat before pulling back. Her tongue teased and taunted the sensitive underside of his penis.

Don
’
t think
,
she ordered herself when he unceremoniously lifted her up and tossed her on the bed.

She peeked at him through narrowed eyes to watch him rake his hand through his dark hair.
Gods, you are handsome.
His skin glistened like gold swirling around the common crystal clusters on her planet. Michaelerus was one-hundred-percent warrior.

“Once we start this, we will be joined forever or until death separates us.”

“Yes.” It was the same way for her kind.

He shifted positions and spread her legs. From the first tentative stroke of his cockhead over her slick folds, she was lost to the sensations running rampant within her. “Fuck me.”

His response was more a grunt than anything else.

Sucking in a sharp gasp when he slowly entered her, she let it out slowly. He was huge inside her. Her walls stretched to the max. “By the Gods of Old.”

“This is what you want. I sense your need.”

“Yes.” She gripped his taut butt cheeks, pulling herself back on his cock when he began to thrust. The tune enveloped them. The music turned dramatic. It inspired her to meet his forceful plunges, to be his equal on the lustful plane they played on.

Her next climax was right there. She closed her eyes, reaching for the bliss that would satisfy her mating hunger. “Harder. Give it to me harder.” Her fingernails dug into his butt cheeks. “Yes. Harder!”

“Look at me!”

She lifted her eyelids. “Give it to me, Michaelerus. Fuck me harder, my mate.”

His thrusts turned rampant, frantic. Every downward glide brought the base of his cock into intimate contact with her clit. The warm glow of golden light she’d basked in turned dark. Only the light given off by her
infanteum crystallae
dented the nothingness that chilled her to the pits of her soul. It wasn’t a mist or a fog but more like an oozing darkness. It was frightening.

“Come into the darkness of oblivion,” he whispered. Sweat dotted his brow. “Please,
t
esra
. Join me there.”

She pulled back on her own protective instincts and assured her crystal that all would be well. With her capitulation, her orgasm broke free. She shouted his name as driving contractions rifled through her body and the nothingness consumed her.

Her clenching feminine muscles milked the cum right out of him. He whispered her name on his climax even though his hips kept plunging. He joined her in the starless, matterless place she recognized had a fitting name.

Oblivion.

Chapter Three

Beware a warrior on a mission
.

Michaelerus was fit to be tied.

She’d left him. Slunk away like a Tradorian thief in the middle of the night.
Dammit.

He sighed long and hard, trying to get the image of her face caught in that moment when she surrendered to Oblivion out of his mind. She was so beautiful. Exquisite.

Then she went and did something like this. She ought to count herself lucky if he didn’t put her over his knee and spank some sense into her for leaving
their
bedroom. He raked his hand through his hair as he followed her trail to another dead end.

He wasn’t surprised that she’d gotten lost on the massive ship. Hell, he had crew stationed on the ship who still couldn’t navigate some of the areas without precise instructions.

“Computer, please check for the location of Princess Jada.” He didn’t even know why he bothered. The supposedly “all knowing” and “all seeing” computer couldn’t find her either. It was as if she’d disappeared.

“No location found for Princess Jada.” The voice sounded in his head.

“Location of her counselor, Mr. Amanassa.” It was a shot in the dark, but he doubted Jada would seek out her advisor after the mating. She was already worried that the New Chastity Party would deny their mating, and from everything he’d discerned about Amanassa, he wouldn’t approve either.

“Special Counselor Amanassa is in the forward observatory,” the computer responded. “He is not alone, but the person he is with is unidentifiable.”

Spinning around, Michaelerus made his way to the location. He punched in the code to open the door. About ready to blow a warp core, he stepped into the room. The sight that greeted him nearly threw him over the edge. “What the hell?”

Amanassa laid his hand on Jada’s bent head. He nodded and then walked to where Michaelerus stood. “We located a piece of contraband D-quarterline Crystal technology aboard the
Vor Marren.
Jada is attempting to heal the common crystal. It is in extreme pain.”

“Is she all right?” Michaelerus took in the broken vidi-tuner then his mate. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she held a six-inch long piece of crystal. Even from where he stood, he could see the crystal was damaged. Unlike the pure white glow of the crystal she wore around her neck, this finger of quartz was smoke gray and barely pulsed with energy.

“Jada is a conduit. Many of the common crystals would consider her their confessor. Because of her unusually strong emotional ties to the common crystals, she feels their pain more than those of my sect—the energizers. Though if we are around a crystal that is truly dying, we are as aware of it as she is. They just wouldn’t tell their story to us. They would imbibe the most basic of information to us so that we may report the mode and/or method of their demise.”

“Where did this piece of technology come from? Whose quarters did you find it in?”

Amanassa shrugged. “A note was slipped beneath the door of your quarters early this morning informing her of where to find the vidi-tuner.” Amanassa shook his head. “At least she had the intelligence to come to me and not try to ease the crystal’s pain on her own. As if that was a possibility.” Anger etched the last part of Amanassa’s statement.

Michaelerus wished he could get one break—just one clue as to how the Dareauxians actually operated. Hopefully, if he could get just a little more insight, he could figure out how to continue with the mating and give his
t
esra
peace.

“She is rarely at peace.” Amanassa clapped Michaelerus on the shoulder and reminded the supreme commander of his guest’s telepathic ability. “She takes her duty very seriously.”

He watched her lean over the damaged piece of quartz. Through his own empathic connection, he felt her sorrow. Reaching out with the telepathy wrought from the mating, all he heard was chanting in a language unknown to the intergalactic translator. It was lovely, yet so morose, it knifed through him. It wasn’t just one voice singing a song so sad it broke his heart, though. There were three. One was Jada’s. Another was Amanassa’s. The third he didn’t recognize.

Michaelerus slashed his gaze to Amanassa’s face. “The crystals are truly living entities.” Some would say the sand of Lazarus Seven was too. In many ways it was, but it wasn’t essential to his life and that of all the Navorains. Many a Navorain had gone without ever being touched by the glittering dust. Those were mostly half-castes and those born from rogue groups who resided on other planets. A few were warriors who were being punished for some crime.

The crystals were different for the Dareauxians. They weren’t just empathetic—their main purpose wasn’t to bring solace to a warrior or mate a Navorain. They were truly two parts of a whole that made up their civilization.

“Your sand is amazing, but it is true. The sand is a part of your world but is neutral. It does not make decisions for you except when you mate, and then, it is only telling you that you are compatible with the person you have come into contact with.” Amanassa’s hand dropped back to his side. “The crystals really are a part of us.”

“Is there anything we could do for it?” He meant to include his doctor or crew but missed the mark.
This is a lot to take on.

“No.” Amanassa sighed. His expression turned grim. “This crystal is at the end of its life. Once we are done at Community Headquarters, we’ll transport it back to Dareaux where it can be buried amongst its relatives and friends.”

Standing beside the counselor, Michaelerus watched the glow from the crystal pulse slower and slower until it gave one last faint beat and then grow dark. Jada broke down in sobs. She hugged the stone to her chest. The chant he’d been listening to became a long, low drone of a single person—Amanassa.

It was a requiem.

“Take her to your room. I’ll see the crystal is prepared for burial.” Amanassa took a single step away from Michaelerus. “Congratulations on your mating.” The counselor clenched his jaw for a moment but then physically relaxed his stance. “The New Chastity Party is a major concern for our kind, but we will somehow find a way around all the nonsense of it.” His gaze slid to Michaelerus’s face. “She worries she’s done irreparable damage to the alliance we need to forge with your species.”

“She’s not thinking straight.” Their alliance was a guarantee. He was a Supreme Commander—all the other leaders of the War Galleys would follow his instructions when it came to deciding on the legislative stupidity spewed by the New Chastity Party.

“How can she?” Amanassa asked. “She will never be your first wife.” He looked away. “She knows about how much you loved your last mate, but she isn’t deceiving herself either. Jada will eventually come to grips with the fact that it is unlikely she will ever earn all your love.”

Michaelerus followed him. He waited for Amanassa to pry the crystal from Jada’s death grip before he hugged her tight. “There. There, my
t
esra
. It’s at peace.”

She turned her torso to hug him back. “It was in so much agony.”

“I’ll be around in a little while to let her feed,” Amanassa stated as he gingerly wrapped the dead crystal in a piece of crimson velvet. When the man Michaelerus considered a hard-ass lifted his face, a tear cut a slow path down his cheek. “To a certain degree, we’re both just overtired and hungry.”

“I know.” Michaelerus ground that out. Holding Jada to him with one arm, he hit the communicator imbedded in the tattoo gracing his upper arm. “Captain on duty, come to the forward observation deck, level 131. We have a situation.”

“At once, Supreme Commander.”

Michaelerus recognized the voice of one of his closest confidants. He sat back and rocked Jada gently, trying without much success to ease her internal pain. “Shh. Let it go.” He wanted to order her to give the sorrow up to him. To demand she let the sand soothe her.

You
’
re one to talk.
Fifteen years of self-torment, self-torture—was it enough? He didn’t have a firm answer.

The door slid open. “Locate the owner of this piece of contraband. I want them in my office before seven bells.” He meant every word. His men suddenly were all action. They began to look over the vidi-tuner. “Come along, sweetheart. Let’s get you out of here.”