Raashh Decisions (Xxan War Book 3) (3 page)

Marie moaned, and her hands came up. Raashh winced in the expectation of her human talons biting skin, but that didn’t happen. She stroked her hands up his chest, closing her legs around him, wrapping herself around his bulk as best she could.

The first whisper of movement up and down his secondary nearly stole Raashh’s thinking mind. He grasped her hips and aided her, his careful thrusting becoming more manic as she vented cries that he now recognized meant she was in desperate need of his sex. Since the bio-tracker would let Rayn know if she was in any physical danger, and the medic would intervene, Raashh let his drives loose, staking his claim as he would on a Xxanian female as a test.

Marie’s sounds became more frantic and encouraging, and there was no sign of the human males. It was more than Raashh had ever dared hope for. He planted the next course of
Zhigaaal
deep in her womb with a prayer that she would ripen and give him young.

With Marie relaxed in his arms, loosely wrapped around him, he considered giving her one more infusion into her womb. Memories of her sounds and movements as he tongued her ass made his cocks throb for other delights and a quicker end to the torture of his secondary jetting useless cum into the center nest when it could be finding a home in his mate.

Later. I will fill her womb with
Zhigaaal
and cum for three days. Moving on now will not prevent her from being my mate.

She moaned out a protest when he left her body.

“Only a moment, my little mate. You wish to be mine.”
Of course she does.

“Yes. Yes. Please, Raashh.”

Hearing her say it was almost more than he could bear.

Raashh pressed his secondary to the ring of her tight little ass, moaning at the slight bite of the muscles against the head. He massaged up more
Zhigaaal
, using it to relax the muscles as he eased inside. With every forward motion, Marie made little sounds of encouragement or pleasure. With every slight withdrawal, she tightened her grip on his arms as if in protest. At last, he was deep enough in her ass for his primary to tease at her seam.

“Yes. Oh, yes, Raashh. I’m burning. I need your primary.”

That broke his self-control, and Raashh thrust both cocks deep into her. Marie didn’t scream. A litany of pleas left her lips. It took only a moment for him to realize they were pleas for him to keep moving. Her legs tightened around his hips again.

Another sign that she needs my sex.
He committed it to memory.

One thrust led to another and another and another. Her tight little pussy ensured he wouldn’t last long, but he lasted longer than she did, which was a relief.

Again, Marie went lax in his arms. Before Raashh could decide what to do with her next, she was already coming out of her stupor.

So soon?

To his surprise, she didn’t fight him. Marie’s arms and legs tightened around him, and she rubbed her body up and down his, moving his cocks minutely inside her.

“I need more, Raashh.” It was a breathless little whisper of sound.

“More like this?” Or was there something else she wanted?

“Yes. This. Then…everything.”

His heart pounding, Raashh brought her into the water with him, working both cocks hard, to the sweet music of Marie’s sounds.

****

Marie woke in the shelter of Raashh’s body, snug on his dreaming mat. She was on her left side, her head pillowed on one large arm. His chest was pressed to her back, his primary cock stirring lightly against the curve of her ass.

Her body came to life that quickly. Three days of carnality, broken only by a nap here and there and Raashh feeding her to maintain her strength, and the burn to have him buried inside her hadn’t subsided in the least.

His grumbled curse said he was more than aware of her state of arousal. One big hand covered her breast and kneaded. “Your nipple is hard, and you are wet and hot. Are you in desperate need of me, Marie?”

“You know I am.” It came out as a gasp of sound.

His hand moved to her inner thigh, and Raashh spread her legs a bit. He shifted, bringing his primary to her sensitized labia. In the next heartbeat, he was inside and thrusting hard and fast.

Her body exploded in pleasure, and she vented screams of release, swiveling her hips to heighten Raashh’s pleasure. He came with a grunted curse in the Xxan language.

They were still for a moment, panting hard in the aftermath of the best quickie Marie had ever had.

Who am I kidding? Raashh is, in every way, the best I’ve ever had.
He’d learned quickly that she liked being dominated by him, having Raashh position her for both their pleasure, being lightly restrained by him, having him order her to suck him or to remain still for his maddening touching.

Just the memories of his handling fired her for more.

He left her body in a rush and turned Marie beneath him, bringing his mouth down on hers with brutal efficiency. For a race that didn’t kiss as part of mating, Raashh had taken to the art and mastered it within a day.

It had started when she’d suggested she would like to try
z’haahn
. Raashh had fed it to her in the Xxanian manner, the mating male mouth feeding his female. When Marie had continued the kiss well after the meat was gone, he’d questioned it, then experimented with kissing. In short order, he’d been back inside her. Then the feeding had continued, resulting in more mating. They’d shared several meals of
z’haahn
since, all with roughly the same results.

Raashh broke off the kiss and cupped her chin. “Food for my mate,” he grumbled. “And then we will let Rayn take his damned tests, so they can leave the nest and allow us to set about scenting more of it.”

Marie smiled at the sentiment. “
Z’haahn
?” she suggested.

“Tease me much more, and you will be drinking my
Zhigaaal
before the shuttle departs the nest.” It was a challenge he wanted her to take him up on.

“Do you wish me to drink it now?”

“Little tease.” In a whirlwind, Raashh was thrusting hard inside her again, reinforcing his claim. “I will not give them any reason to tarry. You will be sucking my secondary the moment they depart the center nest.”

Her climax neared, a promise of another three days of mating frenzy. Or six. Or a dozen. “Oh, yes.”

Section Two

The Business of Love

Daveed: Dominant

Chapter One

Twenty-nine years later

“The files are on your desktop, Mr. Raashh,” Celeste informed him with her usual military efficiency.

“Thank you.” He tried to keep the edge of irritation out of his voice, but that was difficult. One thing Celeste had never understood was his single-minded approach to design. When he was creating, no interruption was welcome.
Not even one I knew was coming at some point today.

Celeste puts up with my moods and distraction. How many personal assistants would be so understanding?

Of course, when I have another designer working with me, I can have many interruptions handled by him. That would be a blessing of the
Seir-God
.

The creative spark successfully derailed, he dropped the electronic pen to the shelf on the inclined drawing table and pushed the button to save the design he’d been working on. He pushed away from his preferred workspace with a sigh and headed for the desk.

The idea of holding a contest to choose the new designer had been Arren’s, and it was a stroke of genius. The very idea of Daveed spending days or weeks interviewing prospective candidates had convinced him not to take on another designer for more than a year. This way, he had minimal contact with them and only had to interview those whose work he felt would fit with Spice’s existing line best.

The first three designers’ offerings held his attention for less than five minutes each. At that, he was being kind, seeing if anything they offered might fit with his image for Spice.

The fourth left him shocked speechless for a moment. The designer’s Neo-Xenolithic style went beyond the usual flounces and ragged edges and straight to the heart of some two-year-old’s idea of Xxanian culture. The skin-tight silken creations covered from neck to ankle, some with hoods, and included long gloves, complete with fake talons. The entire line was in green, blue, and black scale designs.

Daveed considered stopping right there. Clearly, he wasn’t going to find what he wanted this way.

Something convinced him to go on.
Just one more.

He was glad he did from the very first outfit that appeared. The designer had produced long, flowing gowns that draped the female form in elegance, short gowns that enticed without being vulgar, and blouses that would show a Xxanian female’s fertile stripe clearly.

“Perfect,” he decided. How could any designer’s work be so perfect for Spice?
Maybe he is another Xxanian. That would certainly explain it.

Excited by the prospect, Daveed skipped to the artist’s introduction of himself. His breath caught, and he gulped in shock. The designer wasn’t Xxanian.
She
wasn’t male, either.

Her dark honey-colored hair was pulled up in a simple style at the top of her head, and errant curls surrounded her face. She wore one of her own designs, a deep blue that matched her eyes, and she moved gracefully on stiletto heels.

Daveed barely heard the details she imparted to the vid-recorder. The only one that stuck in his mind was her name.

“Joy.” It was also the name of her clothing line.

He paused the feed and summoned Celeste with the push of a button. She appeared in the doorway and waited to hear what he needed from her.

“I wish to interview number five…Joy.”

“Joy Patterson,” she replied. “Any others, Mr. Raashh?”

“Just the one for now.”
Seir-God
willing, he would have no need to meet the others.

“As you wish.”

When she’d disappeared from view, Daveed started Joy’s vid again, from the beginning. He wanted to know everything about Joy and her line he could before the interview with her.

He made a mental note to have Arren do a background check on the artist in question, in the meantime. One could never be careful enough with anti-Xxan guerrillas on the prowl.

****

Joy scooped up the phone, growling at the interruption. “Yes?” she asked.

“Ms. Patterson?” the woman on the other end asked.

“Yes.” Since it was her work phone, there was no sense denying it. It wasn’t as if she had a staff.
Yet. I will have my own staff. Someday.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Patterson. This is Celeste Banks from Mr. Raashh’s office at Spice Industries.”

Her heart thudded in her chest at that pronouncement. If they were calling, it wasn’t a refusal of her proposal outright.
I’m still in the running.
“Yes, Ms. Banks?”

“Celeste will be fine.”

“Celeste.” Her tongue felt thick in her mouth.

“Mr. Raashh would like to interview you. I have openings in his schedule on Friday afternoon and again on Monday afternoon. If that’s not convenient, I can try to move another appointment to —”

“Friday. I mean, Friday works well for me.”
Keep calm, Joy. Don’t make them think you’re desperate.

But she was desperate to win a position with Spice. Any position would do, even if she failed to get the job as Daveed Raashh’s assistant. Spice had a name for advancing from the inside; even if it took years to advance, a job like this could
make
her entire career.

“Very well.” The click of keys in the background let Joy know Celeste was making the appointment for her.

“The…contest details said you would provide transportation?” It had been one of the reasons she’d snapped at the chance to enter. There was no way she could afford the trip to Virginia on her own.

“Yes. You can meet the Spice shuttle at noon at the airport. Go to the cargo terminal area and park at Spice’s hanger. Mr. Raashh’s private shuttle will meet you there. The pilot’s name is Karl.”

She swallowed a lump of surprise. “I will. Thank you, Celeste. Should I bring samples along?”

“There’s no need for that, but if you have any new designs that are not on the vid, you may want to bring the files to view here.”

“Yes. Absolutely.” Her mind spun. Which designs would Mr. Raashh like best?

“Until Friday, then. Good luck, Ms. Patterson.”

Celeste was gone before Joy could find the words to thank her again.

She hung up the phone and rushed to the racks of clothes. What would be the best outfit to meet the Xxanian designer in?

He’s already seen me in the short wrap dress. Nothing too formal.
Her hand closed on a knee-length evening dress that was cut deep between her breasts and to the center of her back.
I can couple it with a suit coat and remove it, if I need to.
“Perfect.”

****

“Two minutes, Ms. Patterson,” Karl called out.

“Thank you.”

She took another sip of the white wine. She’d tried to tell the Xxanian male she didn’t need anything for the short cross-country flight, but he’d insisted on providing refreshments for her.

The shuttle was decadent. A far cry from the public transports students took to space stations on field trips, the interior of Daveed Raashh’s private shuttle would look at home in a five-star hotel.

The vehicle touched down with a whisper of sideward motion, and the engines wound down. Joy took a calming breath, unfastened her seat harness, and stood.

Karl rushed past her and opened the door. He stepped out and offered his hand to help her down the stairs. She climbed down carefully and looked around.

They were on the rooftop of the Spice building. The sideward movement of the shuttle had brought the vehicle’s door under a reinforced overhang.