To Walk the Constellations - Cover

To Walk the Constellations

Copyright© 2019 by Dragon Cobolt

Chapter 12

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 12 - On the distant, ecologically wrecked world of Stumble, Venn is an orphan who dreams of adventure. But her day to day life is shattered with the arrival of the Hegemony - an empire that seeks to reunite humanity's scattered worlds. Led by the mysterious Lord Drak, the Hegemony seeks an ancient and powerful relic. When Venn gets between them and their quarry, Drak's attention focuses on her! Now, hounded across space, the only hope for Venn lies in rediscovoering humanity's forgotten past.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/Ma   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Magic   Gay   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   High Fantasy   Military   War   Science Fiction   Aliens   Extra Sensory Perception   Post Apocalypse   Robot   Space   Paranormal   Vampires   Cheating   Harem   Polygamy/Polyamory   Interracial   Exhibitionism   First   Nudism   Royalty   Slow  

BEDS OF SILKEN DREAMS

I opened my eyes and wallowed for a bit in the crinkly softness that completely surrounded me. It was a softly smoothly perfection that felt like it was rubbing up against every single pore of my skinny body and draining out anything like resistance or anger or hurry. My limbs felt like lead and my head faded back into a pillow wider and deeper than anything in the known universe. A black hole of a pillow. I mumbled into it, tossing my head from side to side.

I knew there was a reason to get up.

The reasons were distant. Foggy, like breathing on a screen.

Taste of ash.

My tongue darted along my lips and my eyelids, at last, deigned to open.

I was sprawled on a bed of red and dark blacks. Hanging curtains surrounded it, but they were drawn back and pinned up with gold and obsidian pins and hooks. The faint tinkle of chains came to my ears – echoing from down the corridor – but the room itself was all stone. Not smoothed, no. It was bits of stone, stacked and stuck together and covered with tapestries that showed scenes from a collapse-past: Armored figures on long legged beasts, carrying spears and sharpened swords, holding up shields against snarling scaled things that belched out smoke and flames and clutched exceptionally pretty men and women in flowing dresses, all swooning and gasping.

For just a teenist of a second, I liked the mental image. Of being swooned. Or of being the person who found them and...

I shook my head.

Fuck this. I had work to do.

OUT OF BED

When I emerged from bed, I flushed from head to toes. I was still naked. Of course I was naked. Thale had cut the clothes off my body. The memory of how close his blade had been to my flesh, the thin line of red that had been left on my skin, the feeling of my clothing slipping away, leaving me naked and open to him. I closed my eyes and swore I could smell roses in the air of the castle. I crossed one arm over my chest, then glared at the doorway. It was a wooden door, and there was a great big thing what people put their clothes in.

I put my back up against it and gritted my teeth. My legs strained and the wooden thing scraped along stone and scrunched up the carpet and, finally, put itself between the door and me. Now, I had some sense of security. I took a moment to grumble about how my Djinn could tell me how to fly a fucking dawn aged fighter craft, and let me rip up comptech as if it was nothing but a bunch of wrapping paper and my fingers were clawed, but it didn’t know what the big shelfy thing was called.

I puffed a few times, then flung open the shelfy thing.

Till now, I’d thought that maybe I was in a place. I had no idea how long I’d been out, nor how far Thale had brought me. The Chain was long, and any number of worlds had been bombed or plagued or simply decided to turn their backs on modern miracles. Affectation and affliction both got someone in a castle mood, with knights on spotted canids, and stories of the stars dismissed as heresy by some groundling religion.

But what was in the shelf made it real clear that I was not in a place.

Cause the shelfy thing was stacked with my clothes. My old clothes – the clothes I had had to wear on Stumble, where the wind was plastic and ash, where stepping outside of Junker Port had needed several layers to keep my eyes working and my lungs from scarring up too bad. And there was my staff, snapped in half on the first day I had learned I was a Liminal Knight. Looking fresh and shiny and new.

Next to the impossible clothing, the clothing from almost a year before and nearly two hundred clusters back, there was something even more dreamlike and strange. It looked, at first, like a reddish circlet, but it was sized for my neck, not my wrist. It had a small broach-latch on the front, made of a golden oval with a gemstone the size of my pinkie set into it. I picked up the circlet and my thumb touched the gemstone as I held it out.

The circlet shivered – and spun out a dress more shimmery and fine and perfect than I’d ever dream of, back on Stumble. Like a fancy given form, it sang as it brushed along the floor and I dropped the circlet in shock and backed away from it in a damn hurry.

DRESS

I poked the dress with my toe – but touching it was harder than I thought. The dress fabric flowed to the side, letting my to get through. And when I drew back, it closed up again. I shook my head. “Smart fabric,” I whispered to myself. I picked up the dress by the collar and I looked at it again. It had skirts that flared outwards, and a sleeveless cut, with a plunging back that would show off my curve. Not curves, I was too skinny for an S. I bit my lip.

I would look real pretty.

In so far as I could look pretty.

I shoved the collar and the dress back into the shelf thing and started to tug on my old clothes.

EXPLORE

Dressed and dubiously armed, I shoved the shelfy thing out of the way and started to creep down the corridor. I held my staff in my hands and it felt awkward and top heavy, compared to what I was used to fighting with. But I kept it close as I followed the faint sound of clinking, rasping chains. When I peeked around the doorway at the end of the corridor, I saw it looked into a breathtakingly fancy banquet hall. The table was covered, absolutely covered with food. There were thick goblets that had drinks of a dozen different colors, and the food smelled so rich, so delicious, that my mouth started to fill with spittle.

I stepped into the room and looked around. I frowned. “This isn’t food,” I said, trying to sound brave and forthright. Like a Liminal Knight should. “And this isn’t a castle, and I’m not in my old outfit. Where am I? What is this place?”

Silence – save for a distant tick tick tick, and the crackled crickle of a fireplace I hadn’t noticed before, tucked up against the far wall. Under it was a painting of two figures, clasped close. One was me. In that dress I’d spurned. The other was Thale, in his Hegemonic uniform, his cape billowing outwards, his head ducked forward. He looked as if he needed my body, my closeness, with a fierce hot need, a need the painter had captured with every crinkle of his face, every line of the grimace on his lips. He didn’t have his cat ears, nor his tail.

I scowled. “Simstim,” I said. Then I turned and whacked the food as hard as I could with my staff. Goblets went flying. Food splattered, spreading their rich colors over the carpet.

SIMSTIM

I’d heard about simstim, and seen it done on a few worlds. Simulated Stimulation – direct inducted electronic influence of the brain. Depending on how high off the ground the world in question had climbed, a simstim could require an implant jack slammed into your brain stem with a hydraulic injector, or it could be a sleek mesh-hat you could take on and off as easy as winking. Some of the best simstims, though, were feedback capable. They plucked things from your head, then spun them up and tossed them back at your face.

The memory of Techne, whispering in my ear, about what the better feedback sims could do still made my cheeks go hot and funny. My nipples hardened and my hands tightened on my staff as I tried to put thought of sex out of my head.

When I glanced back at the portrait, Thale was kissing me now.

I ached. Right in my gut.

“Whose running this?” I snarled. “Show yourself.”

“You catch on fast...”

The voice that crooned to me was deep and rich and dark. It was deeper than Thale – and it lacked the occasional purring undertone that Thale’s voice could have. My brow furrowed and I started to turn in a slow circle, looking to my left, to my right, trying to pin down where the voice was coming from. But each time he spoke, it came from a different place in the room, never form any specific figure.

“I’d have thought someone from as far down the Chain as you might have never seen a simstim,” the voice said. “I can see why my Thale is so impressed with you, even if he’s not willing to admit it. But I’m not entirely sure I want to show myself, not while your mind is providing the whole of the experience.”

“Oh!” I said. “Oh! That’s a low trick! I’m not ... I have ... I’ve never dreamed of anything as ... daft silly as this!”

The voice chuckled even deeper. “It’s not really use lying when you’re in a feedback simstim. This entire castle, the portrait, even waking up naked in a lover’s bed, that’s all from your own fantasies and fears. Swift was right, this is quite informative.”

I scowled. “Show yourself, you Hegemonic fuck!”

“ ... as you wish...”

And when I turned, someone was there.

Oh. Someone.

BEASTLY

The figure standing behind me was hunched, almost quadrupedal. His body was thick with ropy muscle, concealed beneath short, frizzy fur. His snout was very long, and had several extremely sharp teeth, peeking over the edge of his muzzle, while six glowing eyes transfixed mine, set in a circular pattern that swept to either side of his face. Each eye got bigger the further back they got, and they lacked a pupil or an iris or any color other than that complete blueness. His arms were long and skinny, and his hands were each tipped with sharpened claws. His body had the canid greyhound build – curving chest, skinny belly, hips that flared outwards. His tail was a long, barbed whip chord.

He chuckled. “Is this how you see the Hegemony, Venn?”

My throat was dry as he stood up. Taller. Taller. He towered over me.

And I felt a frission of confused, crawling sensation buzz along my spine. I was scared. Yes. But...

I’d seen a lot of strange humans during my travel. And this thing was still on that spectrum. Legs. Limbs. Arms. Yeah, even the claws. Those eyes, though. They wouldn’t let me look away. That rich-deep voice continued to drip down my ears as he started to pad forward, heavy. Weighted.

“It’s somewhat simplistic, isn’t it?” he asked, cocking his head. “Have you ever wondered why the Hegemony resorts to the brutality? To invasion?” He reached out and the backs of his razor sharp claws brushed against my cheek. “It’s more complicated than you might think.”

I needed to gulp before I could speak. I forced my tongue down, not wanting to lick my dry lips. The confused crawling sensation had become a growing heat between my legs. “Fuck complicated,” I said, my voice husky. “You burn entire planets. You glass them!”

“Only when the Hegemony must,” the beast said, his head ducking forward, his snout almost brushing against my face. His breath smelled fragrant and sickly sweet and a silly part of me wondered how long his tongue was.

“Never. Never is a must.” I clung to my anger, glaring up into those eyes. “You’re not Thale. Who are you?” I paused. “The Emperor? Some ... interrogator? Where is Thale? Did you fucking hurt him?” A sudden image – me in some simstim tank, Thale strapped down. Me, shining and knightly, bursting out to cut him free. My hands tightened and I nearly grabbed the beast by his snout.

The beast chuckled. “No. We’re not even on Eudaimonia – we’re currently each in an acceleration tank on my stealth corvette, burning as hard as we can when we’re not jumping between systems. This sim-stim is on an adjusted time scale. The months will pass faster in here.”

I blinked.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I’m ... Thale’s fiance,” the beast said. And the hurt in his voice jerked my hand up. My palm pressed to where I’d been planning to grab. He felt warm and his short, bristly fur was soft.

“Oh,” I whispered.

“Yes. Oh.” His eyes met mine and, despite lacking iris and whites, the sadness in them cut me to my bones. I hadn’t known. I hadn’t. I. I gulped, then looked down at my feet. I felt shorter and squatter and more miserable by the second. Guilt roiled through my guts, where excitement had been bubbling before. So. That was why Thale had been stuck. He had me ... and he had someone else. “My name is Prince Adoran Adams. Normally, I don’t look like a monster.”

My eyes screwed shut.

And he was a fucking Prince.

Good. Fucking. Job. Venn. You. Idiot.

A POSSIBILITY

“But ... I can see why you set his head spinning and his heart racing,” Adoran said, his voice warm in my ear. He walked past me – and the heavy thump of his body got my heart racing. I wondered how much or how little overlap there was with the real Adoran. Did Thale love a twig of a prince, like I was a feminine echo of his first heart’s home? Or was Thale the small one in their relationship? Did Adoran hold him. Did Adoran pet his head, and let him purr when the weight of the Hegemony got too much? Was Adoran this ... towering outside of simstim?

“Why? C-Cause I’m fucking stupid?” I muttered, stepping away. But then that clawed hand grabbed onto my arm and he jerked me around. His blue eyes transfixed mine and he chuckled.

“Stupid? You learned how to be a Liminal Knight in less than a year – taught using nothing more than the connection you and Thale share. And you fought and bested one of the most dangerous novitiates in the Hegemonic order.” His hand tightened on my arm. “Then, you led an attack that disabled and destroyed the Victrix, the one worldkiller built to be as immune to Liminal Knights as it is possible to make a piece of tech.” He chuckled, and the sight of those teeth made my knees go weak. “The only thing stupid here is you not being the most conceited woman on the Chain.”

I grabbed his wrist. He looked skinny, but my fingers didn’t even touch my palm. I glared at him. “I should have...”

“Asked?” he asked. “You didn’t even know who Thale was, did you?”

I pushed at his wrist. His hand didn’t budge. My breath came ragged and shallow. But Adoran noticed the push – and he let me go, leaving a shallow impression of claws on my pale skin. I trembled and Adoran shook his head. “Come on. We have several days, subjective, before we reach Eudaimonia. Maybe if you get to know me, then arriving there won’t need to hurt.”

I shook my head.

But inside, I thought...

Maybe...

Maybe I could reach him too.

Maybe.

BANQUET

Adoran looked near funny, hunched over at the end of the table, spearing food with his long claws. He chewed and smacked his lips as I shoved entire potatoes down my mouth. Simmed or not, it tasted great and it filled my guts. I licked my lips, then said: “You know, uh, for someone who doesn’t normally look like a monster, you adapt fast?”

“I’ve been simmed in a lot of ways,” Adoran said, casually. “Part of the upside of growing up a prince.” He grinned and his eyes sparkled. “You know, those metal things are there to help you eat.”

I looked at my greasy fingers, then at the forks and knives. My cheeks heated, then stuck out my tongue. “You’re using claws.”

“Touche,” he rumbled and laughed and I smiled, despite myself.

“So, how are you a prince?” I asked, picking up my fork. There some green orbs I’d never seen before. They looked like they should have tasted like candy or plastic. Instead, they exploded in my mouth with juice and clear, delicious tartness. My eyes screwed up and I choked as I swallowed-breathed-laughed with joy all at once. Adoran chuckled, lifting a goblet, his claws sparkling in the air as he used his fingers to grip it. The handle was awkward, but then his tongue thrust into the cup and he began to lap it up.

His tongue was long.

And it looked like it could be tied into knots.

He noticed me gaping as he set the goblet down, and I could see he noticed it, and I could hear him not calling attention to it, which just meant my brain couldn’t help but think about the things that his tongue might be able to do. Instead of mentioning any of those things, he purred: “Elthas was in chaos when the Hegemony arrived. My ancestors were struggling to maintain it against a hoard of techno-barbarians, led by a Liminal Knight named Lord Primus, who had fused his body with an autophagic cloud of chaotic mana. He supplemented his flesh with the blood of his enemies – including my great great great great grandparent, while creating new and twisted genotype abominations every month. He’d fuse a human with anything if he thought it might give them an edge.”

I nodded.

“But when my family bore their first Liminal Knight, rather than training them their selves, they sent the child to the Hegemony. He returned and, with their training and aid, killed Lord Primus.” Adoran chuckled, softly, and his whip-tail snapped back and forth. The barbed tip glinted in the firelight and I felt my eyes going out of focus with the languid movement of that tail. Flick. Flick. Flick.

“From that time on, Elthas has been the right arm of the Hegemony. They helped us rebuild our world, and we’ve helped them expand. We, also, seek to ... moderate their influences,” he said. “To try and guide them towards a more noble light.”

I shook my head. “Fat lot of good you’ve done,” I said. Then, scowling. “How can you say all that, talk all that good shit, when ... when ... I...” I slammed my palms down. The portrait over the fire showed Thale – helmeted. Masked. Bent forward, as if against a fierce wind. I stuck my hand out, pointing right at it. “Gloves! They hurt him, Adoran!”

“Don’t you think I know that?” He growled. “Don’t you think I hate that-”

“If you hate it, you’d have fucking done something about it!” I shouted over him. Adoran stood – unfolding to his full height. He glared down at me.

“Who do you think has been pushing the Emperor for retrovial treatments ever chance he gets?” he growled. The growling buzzed in my ears and my breath came short and sharp. But it was his words that hit me in the gut. It was like a gulf, beginning to yawn between us. I started to shake my head before I even responded.

“You want to make him...”

“Human, yes,” Adoran said.

I closed my eyes shut. “He is human,” I whispered. Ragged.

“Not to the Hegemony-”

“That doesn’t fucking matter!” I opened my eyes again. “I don’t care if every last fucking person on the Chain and off it said he wasn’t. He is! He is! He is!”

Adoran moved. He didn’t skirt the table. There was no time for that, not in this headlong charge. He simply stepped up onto it, knocking over pitchers and sending plates skittering. He walked on his forefeet and his knuckles, his elbows bending, his back undulating. His tail snapped back and forth behind him, until he was swinging his lower half off the table, his rump settling onto the floor before my chair, his long, long arms wrapped around the back of the chair. His muzzle nearly pressed into my chest as he tilted his head forward, planting his gaze right into my eyes. He snarled. “I can’t think like that, you child. It feels good, I know it feels good, to think romantically. If I could, I’d say the same thing and stand on the same hill. But I can’t.”

I breathed in his musk and felt dizzy with terror and arousal both.

Adoran was panting too. His nostrils flared and he breathed in my scent as he whispered. “Humans aren’t solitary creatures. We need each other. I cannot change a thousand years of propaganda, of lies, of hate, of bigotry, by myself. But ... I can change Thale. I can keep him safe and beside me, while still keeping my people safe.”

I shook my head. “That’s...”

“Cowardly?” he asked.

“Yes,” I hissed.

“Craven?” His voice dipped lower. His eyes were starting to close – one by one.

“Yes...” I could barely hear myself.

“I don’t care,” Adoran said. “All I have to do is think of Thale ... and it becomes worth it.”

CONNECTION

Tenderly, my hand reached out. I pressed it to the side of his greyhound ribs. I felt his heart, thundering. It was the same beat pattern, the constant drumbeat, as mine. When I tried to sleep and couldn’t, I felt this same tattoo, rumbling under my skinny ribs. This heart loved Thale as much as me.

And was willing to do anything for him.

“Even if it’s wrong,” I whispered.

“Even,” he said.

I closed my eyes and leaned in. My face pressed to his snout and felt the warmth, the slight wetness. Adoran tensed and my hands slipped along the sides of his ribcage, to his shoulders. I drew him in. “You’re wrong,” I murmured.

“You don’t know that,” he whispered.

“I’m not,” I said.

“You can’t know that,” he said.

I reached up, gripped the base of his muzzle with my whole hand. “Shut up, Adoran,” I said. “If we both love Thale, we can’t both be fucking right.”

Adoran growled. “Do you talk like this to him in his dreams?”

I smirked, shyly. “O-Only when he’s being stupid,” I said.

Adoran’s last two eyes closed. He leaned in, and his tongue thrust into my mouth. My lips opened and my eyes rolled back into my head as his tongue began to sweep down my throat. It was so ... alien. My toes curled and my back arched as he kissed me and kissed me and kissed me. It was a kiss without lips – only the blunt tip of his muzzle, and the questing, squirming length of his tongue. It was a kiss that stole my breath and made my back arch. My thighs spread wider and wider as I gripped onto Adoran’s shoulders.

Then he drew back. His tongue slurped out of my mouth and I coughed. Gasped.

“I ... I have to go,” he rumbled.

“Wait,” I whispered.

He turned. He was walking along the table. And between his legs, I could see the firm swell of his balls and the hanging sheath of his member, the gray fur contrasting against the brilliant pinkish red of his half hard cock. As he walked, his cock slipped further and further from his sheath. I gaped after him – and then he slipped out of the door. He was gone. I sagged in my chair, my knees pressing together.

He was going to talk to Thale. I knew he was.

Would he be joined by Thale? Next time?

I hoped so.

Christ alive ... I hoped so.

SOLITUDE

The next day was spent alone in the castle. I woke from my restless sleep and found that there was an adjoining and anachronistic shower in my room. My subconscious spoiled me with the luxurious soft fluff-scrubber and the thick goopy soap that turned my skin into glittering porcelain. Then I set to exploring the castle.

Every step made me feel stupider. Sillier.

Ballrooms with gleaming white tile floors, where music flowed soft and sweet out of thin air, like syrup. Where I could imagine twirling and spinning and being held.

Training rooms – like the first place where Thale and I had really ... done things. The mats were the same softness, and walking barefoot across them made tiny squeaking noises that made my cheeks heat.

Larders. Larders stuffed with more food, more drink, more fruit, more stuff that worked than I could possibly imagine. There were food stores, yes, in vacc-packing and ice boxes, but there were also rivers of mana, flowing rich and heady with anything I could have desired. It was a fantasy of not only not wanting, but of not thinking about wanting. I could lay down on the amount of bread that was baked and packaged and left for me to eat at my own pleasure.

Was this all my brain was? Food and stuff?

Well.

There were also the darker rooms at the bottom. With the, uh...

Stuff.

Moving on.

When Adoran did return, a day later, he didn’t mention Thale.

A LAZY COURTSHIP

Despite saying he could, Adoran never showed up in anything other than the form I’d dreamed up for him. The Hegemonic monster, as seductive as it was terrifying. He and I would take walks beyond the castle, in the forests that were one part Masque Macabre, one part Gamma World, one part dreams from Stumble’s own past. The forests stopped making sense the further we got past the castle as my imagination and the simulation broke down. We walked along stairs of wood past slumbering stars, half buried beneath the earth, where the mud began to break down into a black slurry that reminded me of space. We always headed back before going over the edge of the last step – where the forest itself began to float away into the inky blackness I imagined beyond.

Adoran and I talked as we walked.

He told me about growing up on Elthas. About the family politics, his two mothers, their attempts to adjust and change the Hegemony from inside, like a benign cancer. And, when prompted, I told him about scrapping on Stumble. But I never talked about the places I’d been. The places I’d seen. The people I knew, like Techne or Meetra or Mal or Rossk. I could see that Adoran could see that I was holding back. But he didn’t push me.

We were perfect gentlepeople.

But the tension. The memory of our first dinner, of that languid kiss, buzzed through our awareness.

A PROPOSAL

“If you join us,” Adoran said, on the third day of quiet talking and long walks. “You could be our concubine.”

We were walking along the wall that ringed the castle. Stone bits were worked into the edge to make it hard to shoot us with arrows – but because this was my imagination, the bits were artfully designed and carved with sneering gargoyles and growling exigenic dogs. I nearly pitched over the wall at the word ‘concubine.’ I spun to look at Adoran, who was walking with his hands clasped behind his back. Since he was on his haunches, he towered over me. This meant I was looking more at his belly than his face. I craned my head back and tried to not feel like I was looking out of a well.

“I could be your what?”

“Concubine,” he said, grinning. “It’s a place with considerable prestige and-”

“And fuckery!” I said, shoving his chest with my hands. He took not one step backwards. Adoran remained as sturdy and iron hard as ever. I jerked my hands back like he was hot. “I don’t want to be your fuckpet!”

“What about Thale’s?” Adoran asked, arching an eyebrow and giving me a toothy little grin. Insolent fuck. Goddamn it. Goddamn it. I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled at him.

“Fuck you,” I said.

“Not a no,” Adoran murmured, his whip tail lashing.

I tingled. My arms tightened and I glared at him. “You don’t think I’d turn against everything I believe in to-”

“No,” Adoran said, reaching down with one of his large hands. His fingers cupped the back of my head, and the edge of his claws pressed to my neck and shoulder. I trembled, feeling their razor sharpness. My lips were dry. “No, Venn, I want you to be a part of our family because you could help us change the Hegemony for the better.”

“W-While enjoying everything it offers?” I snarled, clinging to my anger. “Fiddling on blackened glass.”

Adoran snarled. “It’s better than dying.”

I turned my head and bit down on his wrist. His frizzy fur brushed against my gums and my teeth found skin and worried at it. Adoran let out a yipping noise. Almost doglike. He tried to draw his wrist backwards, but I grabbed his arm with both of mine, holding him long enough to bite just a bit harder. His other hand planted on my forehead and pushed me backwards. We both panted – me with my back against the crenelations. Him, poised on the pads of his feet, his tail snapping at the same tempo as my thundering heart.

“You can’t win,” he said.

“Fuck you,” I whispered.

“Gladly,” he snarled back. Like it was a joke.

I reached up, grabbed his muzzle, and dragged him in and forced a kiss from him. His tongue thrust into my mouth and he plundered me. That was the only word I had for that kiss – that long, aching kiss. My toes curled in my rough shoes and my back arched as his powerful hands gripped my hips, holding me up so that he could stand and kiss at the same time. In this dream, I was like a poof of cotton in his hands, and he could hold me against his chest, kissing me more and more deeply. Then he drew his muzzle back, gasping as his tongue retracted. My legs were spread against his narrow belly, and I felt his heat throbbing through my clothing – just the heat of his fur was enough to drive me wild.

I knew his hardness was below me. But I refused to look, glaring into his blue eyes.

“Thale told me you wouldn’t listen,” he murmured.

“Where is he?” I asked. I tried to not sound needy.

“Piloting the ship,” Adoran said. His tongue slipped along my cheek. It left me moist and trembling. But the words felt like a lie. No. Not a lie. A half-lie, the real truth slipping through my fingers. I put my hands on Adoran’s wrists, trying to lever myself up a bit more. I glared into his eyes.

“Bullshit. I’ve seen astrogation, if we’re just making a straight shot for Eudaimonia, then it’s just one program. Why...” My throat tightened. “Why isn’t he here?” Adoran tried to look away. I took one hand from his wrist, grabbing one of the bony protrusions of his jaw, then yanked his head back to face me. “Why? Tell me why.”

“He ... didn’t say...”

This time, I bit his neck. Hard. Adoran trembled and growled. “I’m the monster here!” His tail lashed, and then reached around. It wrapped around my throat with the dextriousness of a snake, and it tightened. The feeling of choking almost set me over the edge. My eyes rolled back and I clutched at the tail around my throat as Adoran yanked me backwards – but still held me close. My back arched with the pressure and I made a tiny whimpery noise. The kind of noise I’d want to make in the rooms under the castle. The rooms I didn’t want to share with anyone.

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