Michaela (37 page)

Govi wasted no time in filling her cunt and ass with his own eager lengths. He rode her easy, he rode her hard, he rode her slow, and he rode her fast. He took her on her back, and then flipped her over to take her from behind. As he did so, he kept her servile by pumping her prick, working it just enough to keep her weak but not enough to let her come.

She was bawling with desperation before the Imdiko was finished with her. “Please, please,” she wailed. She couldn’t even move her hips to meet his thrusts so that she would finally detonate. He held her still, forcing her to accept his pace.

“That’s it,” he gasped, thudding against her. “Beg me. Beg me.”

Michaela begged and pleaded, feeling how his cocks jerked inside her when she did. The easygoing Imdiko had a controlling nature when it came to sex. She could tell he loved it when she implored him for mercy.

As if he left her any choice. She thought her pussy and cock would explode from want.

Govi fucked her while she screamed entreaties. At last his hand whipped up and down her cock while fingers pinched her clit. Michaela’s loins emptied in a great rush of sensation. Govi shouted when her climax began, finding completion of his own.

After they recovered and cleaned up, they discovered they still had time to walk on the beach. They trod the baby powder sand in their bare feet, watching as sunlight stained the horizon orange and the stars winked out one by one. Once the sun cleared the sea and the lines of air traffic had thickened, they returned home, ate breakfast, and dressed for their day.

Now at Govi’s work, the Imdiko yawned mightily before kissing Michaela goodbye. He grabbed her elbow as she turned to board the transport once more. “Do you remember how to get to Raxstad’s room from here?”

“Yes. It’s three floors up and barely two steps from the transport.” Realizing how impatient she sounded, Michaela gave Govi a contrite look. “I’m sorry. You’re stressing out too. The last thing you need is me being a brat.”

He smiled forgiveness. “I think Raxstad will appreciate how much you miss him. Hopefully that will encourage him to do everything his doctor tells him to so he can go home as soon as possible. Nobeks are the worst possible patients.”

Govi’s quickness to pardon her rude behavior made Michaela feel guiltier than ever. Wanting to make sure he knew she’d miss him too, she asked, “You’ll join us for lunch, won’t you?”

He looked happy at the invitation. “I’ll be there. Keep Raxstad’s spirits up and don’t let that big ronka of a clanmate misbehave. Remind him that he’s not the only one who can wield a strap.”

Michaela giggled. “Oh, you should give me lessons. I like the thought of disciplining him for a change.”

Govi laughed out loud at that. “I bet you do.”

More screams from the violent ward made Michaela wince. Govi gave her a gentle push towards the transport. “Go on, get out of here. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

She stepped on board. “I love you.”

The Imdiko beamed. Just as the door closed he called out, “I love you too, Michaela.”

Bereft of the sight of Govi, Michaela was eager to see another clanmate. “General care patient rooms, Level 7,” she ordered the car.

The transport shifted beneath her feet, feeling much like an elevator if said elevator could move sideways as well as up and down. Michaela yawned as she traveled in the featureless conveyance. It was nearly silent within the brushed metal compartment. That was fine. It beat the discordant tones of organ gospel music that played on the elevators back on Earth.

It only took a matter of seconds before the transport halted and the door before her opened. Michaela stepped out into the general care area of the hospital where Raxstad’s room was located.

His private care room was more than the two steps Michaela had alluded to with Govi. It was more like a dozen, his door the first one on her right as she moved down the hall. This ward was much different from the psychiatric one where Govi spent his workday. For one thing, the walls weren’t padded. Instead, they were made of lighting panels, brightening up the space. The smooth floor with an inlaid surface that Michaela supposed was easy to clean wasn’t as soft. The artwork vids were the same, however. Also similar were the antiseptic smells and the sight of orderlies pushing their equipment and medicine hover carts up and down the hall.

There were more people here as well who were not doctors. Michaela assumed the majority were visitors for the sick and injured. She saw only men as she moved down the corridor, underscoring how rare females were here on the planet. They bowed to her as she passed them, their eyes lighting up with interest. It was hard not to grin at the attention they paid her. Kalquorians certainly appreciated women.

Michaela nodded to the men and averted her gaze so they wouldn’t think she reciprocated any fascination. She didn’t want any of the men she saw, not when she had the most perfect clan in the entire Empire. She still enjoyed the interest she received. It was hard not to giggle at how the men stopped and stared at her with undisguised delight.

Michaela didn’t have very long to bask in the attention. She neared Raxstad’s room and thought she heard his voice, probably discussing his injuries with his doctor. She walked faster, her being warming up in anticipation of seeing her Nobek.

Barely two steps from Raxstad’s door, Michaela froze. A stunning Kalquorian female walked out of his private room, one Michaela recognized immediately: Matara Feyom.

Feyom was older than she’d been in the pictures with Clan Korkla, but she was still stunning. Amazonian in stature with good muscular definition, she nevertheless retained rampant femininity. Her waist-length black hair was as smooth as glass, drawn back behind her ears and clasped in a jeweled barrette. It exposed exquisite features, as perfectly proportioned as Govi’s. Feyom had a dark, bewitching allure that took Michaela’s breath away.

The Kalquorian beauty saw Michaela right away. A slow smile curled her lips and she stepped forward to close the distance between them. Michaela almost backed away. There was a mocking tone to the way Feyom looked at her, as if she smiled at some inner joke.

A husky voice purred from the alien woman, low and seductive and almost whispering so only Michaela could hear. “Hello, Earther. Am I right in assuming you are the lucky – girl – Korkla clanned?”

A sick feeling roiled in Michaela’s stomach. She’d heard the snigger in Feyom’s voice as she’d said the word ‘girl’. The Kalquorian looked the Earther up and down, obvious as she examined Michaela.

Michaela kept her own voice low as she responded. “I am Matara Michaela of Clan Korkla.”

Feyom lifted a perfectly arched brow. “How lovely for you. Congratulations on gaining a clan as well-ranked as Korkla’s. You are to be envied, I’m sure.”

“I am very fortunate.” With her initial shock fading, Michaela wondered why Feyom had been in Raxstad’s room. Hadn’t her clanmates said they’d had no contact with her in some time? They had given the indication that they didn’t feel friendly toward this woman.

Apparently, the Kalquorian had no idea Michaela was already aware of her existence and her connection to Clan Korkla. “I am Matara Feyom of Clan Lenidam. Korkla, Raxstad, Govi, and I are old friends.”

“Yes, they have mentioned you in passing.” Michaela kept her tone unconcerned despite the emphatically warm way Feyom had spoken the men’s names. She thought perhaps treating the situation as if it was no big deal might score more points than angrily demanding answers. It was better than letting Feyom see any of the agony that built in her gut.

She was a little gratified to see the wattage in Feyom’s hateful smile dim. Still, Michaela felt ugly and shriveled inside. Why was Feyom here, with her beautiful face and body?

Feyom purred, “You’ll be glad to know your Nobek is feeling much better this morning. When I heard Raxstad had been injured, I just had to see him and offer my well wishes. Even big strong Nobeks need the gentle hand of a
woman
to see to them from time to time.”

Michaela made herself draw a deep breath. “Particularly that of their own Matara. You no longer have to concern yourself over Clan Korkla, Feyom. I take my duties to my lifemates very seriously and will be at their sides where I belong.” Finally letting some anger show, she added, “Your own clan is most understanding of your generous nature. I’m sure they’ll be happy to know mine will not be a distraction to you any longer.”

Feyom’s eyes narrowed, letting Michaela know she’d scored a hit. She’d made an enemy, but Michaela didn’t care. She just wanted her statuesque tormentor to leave.

Feyom wasn’t done yet, however. In a voice made of venom, she said, “Yes, well it’s nice for you that you’ll never have to share Clan Korkla’s affections with anyone else, isn’t it? Or are the rumors of you not having a womb false?”

Michaela gasped. She knew she shouldn’t rise to the other woman’s bait, but she couldn’t help but defend herself. “I have every indication that I will bear my clan as many children as they might want.”

“Oh, that’s a relief. I would hate for such good men to go without children because of a serious lack in their Matara’s abilities. After all, they have excellent rank. They could have any infertile Kalquorian woman they would want. Why should they settle for an Earther that’s only half woman?”

Michaela’s hands closed into fists. “I am not only all woman, but more. They find me to be better than what the typical female offers.”

“I’m sure they do.” Feyom’s tone said otherwise. She straightened and smoothed a palm down her gown, the motion accentuating her lifted full breasts, trim waist, and rounded hips. “Well, tell the rest of your wonderful clan I said hello, Michaela. It was so interesting to get to talk to you.”

With that, she walked away. Michaela refused to watch her go. She did not want to see the appreciative looks from orderlies, doctors, and visitors alike directed at the Kalquorian female. No one would notice Michaela now, not when they could look at the physical perfection that was Feyom.

Swallowing the pang of jealous hurt, Michaela went to the door of Raxstad’s room. She slunk in, grateful the lighting in here was dimmer so her Nobek couldn’t easily compare her to Feyom.

Michaela discovered Raxstad sitting up in his bed. The diagnostic and treatment panels had been retracted into their standby channels under the bed frame. Except for the heavy bandages still covering his upper arms, he looked like her healthy bruiser of a Nobek.

One other thing was different. Raxstad wore a gentle, somewhat sad expression. It was at odds with his uber-masculine features. He smiled at Michaela as she approached, his eyes searching her face.

“Hello, my Matara.”

His tone was the quietest Michaela had ever heard, and she had a pang of fear. Was something wrong? But he looked nearly restored. “Hi Raxstad. How are you feeling?”

“Better than you.” He reached for her. “I couldn’t hear what that piece of trash Feyom said to you, but I see from your expression that it wasn’t pleasant. Come here.”

Michaela’s face burned with humiliation. She had every idea that even if Raxstad hadn’t heard Feyom calling Michaela’s womanhood into question, he could guess pretty well at what had been said. She went to him, her head bowed and gaze down.

He took her hands in his the moment she was close enough for him to reach. Those big paws, calloused and looking strong enough to pound mountains into rubble, were gentle and warm ... just like his voice when he spoke.

“My love, there is nothing about Feyom that entices me. She is a disgusting creature who does not honor her own clan. I can guarantee you she wouldn’t have bothered to visit me except she knows I now have you. She plays dirty games like this.”

The ball of hurt in Michaela’s stomach came up, insisting on being retched out. “She’s so beautiful, Raxstad. She’s so perfect, especially compared to me. She said things about me not being able to have children—”

“Which you know is untrue. Your fertility has been confirmed, my Matara. You have all the parts needed to be a mother. Plus a few extra that I enjoy immensely.” He sighed. “There is no need to compare yourself to Feyom, because she cannot compare to you.”

She wanted to believe him, but Feyom had voiced too many of her fears. “I’m not a real woman, Raxstad.”

“You’re more. Feyom knows that and is jealous.”

Michaela looked up at him in surprise. “She’s jealous of me? Like hell she is. What kind of drugs are they giving you?”

Raxstad sighed before pressing her fingers to his lips. He kissed each slender digit, including the thumbs. “You have no idea the controversy surrounding you since you arrived on Kalquor. My little dancer, there is something we have not told you because we didn’t know how you would take it.”

Dread added to the hurt in Michaela’s gut. “Oh great. More drama, just what I need. Now what?”

Raxstad pulled her closer until she was forced to hop up on the bed to sit next to him. Once she was settled, he told her, “There has been an outcry regarding our clan’s claiming of you. No less than six councilmen and three territorial governors have lodged complaints about it.”

Michaela’s stomach twisted queasily. “Because I’m not right? That’s it, isn’t it?”

“Not right?” Raxstad chuckled, the sound rumbling from his broad chest. “Try again, my love. Other clans are angry because you’re perfect – the ultimate manifestation of physical excellence. They say you are too unique and rare to be wasted on a mere administrative assistant’s clan, even if that assistant works for one of the crown princes. We do not possess the rank worthy of you.”