The Healer's Kiss: Book Four of the Forced To Serve Series (24 page)

He pushed again and again, grateful to feel the electricity building.

“Next time, I will teach you to receive all the pleasure I want to give you. And you will let me,” Chiang ordered, building speed and a rhythm that had her gaze narrowing.

Her lips parted to release tiny sighs of relief. He knew just how Boca felt because his relief was a mirror. Being in her was like being home.

“This arrangement may only be temporary, but by the Creators, for the moment I am your mate. Now seek your pleasure as I seek mine. I command you to do this,” he declared harshly, sealing the declaration with his mouth on hers, absorbing whatever protest she might have made.

Then he grabbed a handful of her hair, wrapped it around his arm, and turned loose of all the fear he’d had when she hadn’t answered him before. Her shoulders braced against the wall as she arched her back, her eyes opening just enough to meet his heated gaze.

“So be it,” she whispered, the words hot in her throat. “Pleasure me if you can then, Greggor. I am a Sumerian. We are not your average breed of female, nor easily satisfied. I accept your temporary offer.”

“Great. Now give me your tongue—willingly this time,” Chiang demanded.

Her hands held his face as her mouth found his, her tongue sliding between his lips, matching his pounding rhythm with one of her own. He had a moment of worry that he was hurting her, only to have her grip his hair in return and whisper “harder” before tongue dancing again.

When the release came for him, it hit him everywhere. Then the throbbing inside her increased until Chiang tore his mouth from Boca’s to yell a second time. That rolled and rippled through him, and he felt her raising and lowering herself on him still. A hand on his chest stroked a line of heat down the front of him that had everything tightening again. He went dizzy for a moment and then his body surged to meet her demands.

“Harder. And faster this time—much faster,” Boca demanded roughly, closing her eyes when Chiang finally complied.

When she shattered a few moments later, Boca gripped his shoulders and moaned. The vibration covered them both and had Chiang falling against her, pushing her into the wall, barely able to brace them up with his palms while she clung to him.

“
Slaggika
,” he said fiercely, bending his head to nestle into the crook of her shoulder.

“You don’t even know what that means,” Boca said on a snort, laughing at the complete absence of tension in her limbs at last. It had been two hundred years or more since she had let herself want a male in the smallest way. She felt drunk, completely and utterly drunk. . .and from bonding. Chiang did this to her with his expertise. It was outside everything she understood, but her dizziness and sated body were a testimonial. The energy between them now hummed.

“
Slaggika
,” she repeated, giggling as she echoed his exclamation.

“Truly, I don’t know what the word means in Sumerian, but I know you say it when you are very surprised,” Chiang said.

“True,” Boca admitted. “It is an expletive in my native language. On my planet, I am considered an unpleasant female. Are you surprised I am so bold?”

“Surprised by the boldness of a female who can give me many simultaneous pleasure eruptions in sequence? You can talk any way you wish. Not even the Sirens I’ve…well, let’s just say your talents are unique in my experience,” Chiang said, easing his weight off her as he gently withdrew from inside.

“I’m better than a Siren? Indeed—that is a profound truth,” Boca agreed, drunkenly imitating Dorian Zade as she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Chiang’s shoulders as he laughed. “Can you carry me to bed now? I think I am too weak to walk.”

Taking a deep breath to bear her weight and his, Chiang reached to turn off the cleansing spray that had been forgotten. Then he stepped away from the wall, his hands cupped securely under the treasure he carried to his bed.

“May I sleep in my tunic?” Boca asked as they passed through where she had folded and laid her clothes on his desk.

Chiang stopped, snagged up her top with one hand, passing it to her as they continued walking. By the time they reached the bed, Boca had wiggled the tunic over her head. It made him laugh.

“If you are cold, I can warm you up again,” he whispered.

“I’m just feeling…exposed. I need the comfort tonight,” Boca said, not wanting to risk the peace between them with a disclosure of deceit, even such a minor one as Malachi had extracted from her.

When Chiang crawled into bed with her still wrapped around him, Boca starting singing a soothing chant. Chiang stretched out, head on a pillow, arranging her on top of him. He pulled her hair out of her shirt and stroked it, soothing her back and hips that also reaped the benefit of his strokes. She could tell it gave them both a sweet pleasure to simply touch so freely. Perhaps she had been fighting this too hard.

Boca sang in Sumerian, letting the chanting fill the room with sweetness and relaxation. She had sung males to sleep many times, been ordered to do so, but never one she actually cared about getting his rest. For the first time, her caring for Chiang made her wonder if she had ever had a sincere compassion for Rogan at all. She had slipped out of her Sumerian mate’s bed frequently to rest alone. Yet all she wanted tonight was to fall asleep with Chiang stroking her hair.

Eventually though, he stopped stroking. His even breathing revealing that he had fallen asleep. It made her smile against his chest.

“I still don’t think this is going to end well, but I thank you for your care of me,” Boca whispered, letting the regular breathing of the male beneath her lull her into sleep as well.

***

Malachi was signing off the duties for the evening when Seta Trax appeared in the doorway of Medical.

“Good evening, Lieutenant Trax,” he said in greeting. “Are you in need of medical aid?”

“No. I am well,” Seta said firmly as she smiled. “I have night bridge duty and am very bored. Would you consider spending some time with me?”

“I’ve already admitted to an interest in your sibling, Lieutenant. Given the nature of your culture and the rules I follow of the Creators, I’m afraid I must decline the pleasure of your offer,” Malachi said, grinning as he completed his tasks of prepping both medical tables for whoever the unfortunate next patients might be. He had run Boca off before she had completed them.

“Do not be an arrogant male. I’m not asking you for bonding, Medic. I just want to talk. The ensigns on the bridge are too easily intimidated to speak freely. And they are not half as interesting,” Seta said. “I assure you my interest is platonic.”

“I am teasing. As an intuitive, I am well aware you don’t really like me, so I find it hard to believe your interest serves a positive purpose. I have read that the Ethosian culture is bred for polite inquiries, but we can just skip those between us if you like. What’s on your mind, Lieutenant?” Malachi asked.

Seta debated for a few seconds about the wisdom of time spent with the irreverent, way-too-sharp male, then sighed because she was still compelled to pursue getting to know him better. Instinct said the irritating male possessed knowledge of many secrets. Before convincing him to share them with her, first she needed to gain his trust. Her odd intuition about him baffled her, but Seta had failed so far to root it out of her will.

The fact that she was willing to tolerate his amusement was reason enough to frown, so she did. “I do have some concerns about being on the ship. Take a walk with me. I will even make it an order if I must. I’ve left directions on the bridge to be contacted if I’m needed,” she explained.

“Very well,” Malachi said finally. “I’ve finished the basic tasks anyway. If you insist on my company, I will comply this once.”

As they stepped into the hall, Seta looked up expecting to see derision but was met with a surprisingly neutral gaze.

“I don’t understand this empathetic response you evoke in me, Medic. And I am also curious as to why you seem to provoke a quite different reaction in Rena. She and I tend to share opinions on most males. We have no accord about you at all,” Seta complained.

Malachi made a face, trying hard not to grin at the thought of their discussions. How he wished he had hidden in their room as mist and listened.

“So I’m interesting enough for you and Rena to talk about me?” he asked with a smile.

Seta snickered. “Do not sound so hopeful. It was only in passing. Rena mostly refuses, but I sense you disturb her equilibrium.”

Malachi laughed at Seta’s word choice. How disturbed could he possibly make an emissary of the Creators feel? She had the power to bind him to Conor's form and make him feel physical pain. He was the one that should be disturbed.

“That seems only fair, Lieutenant. Rena disturbs my equilibrium as well,” Malachi stated firmly.

“I find your interest in Rena most fascinating. Most males turn away from her intense spirit which tends to spread itself over a whole ship. If you or the other intuitives on the Liberator have noticed an energy shift, it may very well be Rena causing it,” Seta said with a shrug. “Captain Warro didn’t like her being on the Paladin. He said she carried a darkness despite her spiritual work.”

Malachi laughed again. He couldn’t help it. The idea of an emissary of the Creators being perceived as having a ‘dark spirit’ delighted him.

“Well, the Liberator is full of beings who consider themselves spiritually awakened, Lieutenant. Some are just as intense as Rena. In fact, being in a state of energy flux is a fairly normal occurrence around here,” he said wryly.

“Do you consider yourself a spiritual being, Medic? Do you—for example—adhere to the myth of the ‘Creators of All?’ Rena is adamant that they are real beings, or once were. She describes them as universal forces for good. I continue to believe they are largely myth,” Seta said.

Malachi laughed harder, even though he knew his constant smiling and laughing might be misconstrued as getting a little too friendly. It was difficult to restrain himself when the female in her innocence was so amusing. He found himself actually regretting what Liam and Ania planned to do that would erase the blissfully ignorant, but very appealing, child-like state from her personality. Learning one carried a demon had a tendency to dim one’s innocent view of the universe as a benevolent place.

“I’m afraid I have to admit to sharing Rena’s beliefs in the Creators. You may tell her I said so if you wish. Perhaps it might change her attitude towards me a little,” Malachi said, unable to hold back his smile.

“So politely put, Medic. I can tell you are sincerely interested in my dual-birth sibling,” Seta stated firmly. “Rena may choose not to notice, but I prefer to deal with the truth.”

“Yes—I can see that about you, Lieutenant Trax,” Malachi agreed, smiling genuinely at the younger woman.

Watching her spirit stretch out to test the ability to trust those around it was a kind of marvelous process. Most tested by asking for a truth, only to then pull away before an unpleasant answer was shared. It was what all creatures did, and it promptly reminded him of his own early efforts in trusting Ania. Caught in his own philosophical web, Malachi could only laugh at the irony of his epiphany.

“Forgive my laughter, Lieutenant. Your youthful view of us all is very refreshing. You remind me of Commander Jet at times like this,” Malachi said easily.

“Your words hide things, Medic. You speak as calmly as Rena, but I sense great anger resides within you. I commend you for your control in maintaining a serene countenance. When I have such anger within, I tend to erupt and destroy things around me. Rena says I was cursed with a bad temper after our father sold us into a mating bond,” Seta said, wondering again why her father’s actions had ceased to appall her. Instead, talking of her father’s actions always felt like she was repeating a story about a stranger.

“Yes. I can understand why being sold by your birth parent might prompt you to be upset,” Malachi said dryly, watching the female struggle with her confusion.

Strolling by the larger male’s side, Seta noted the medic’s energy did not feel like other males felt to her. There was something different, some missing aspect of normal masculinity, but also some additional power in what he exuded. He was, oddly enough, similar to Rena in that regard. He was equally
intense
, she thought, at loss for a better description.

“My Ethosian instincts cannot come to a consensus about your real nature, but I do not need my intuition to know you are much more than what you seem.”

Seta could tell Malachi truly had no physical interest in her at all, despite her visual appearance being a mirror of Rena’s. Yet when the medic was near Rena, his energy expanded and nearly filled the space they were in, as if it were trying to absorb her. Rena’s energy reacted by pulling inside her form, refusing to come out when he was around. Yet it wasn’t just Rena. She’d caught him looking longingly at the Sumerian medic he worked with on more than one occasion, so she knew Rena was not the only female that held his interest.

Then there was also the odd sibling sort of relationship he maintained with the ship’s Peace Keeper. Perhaps being the captain’s kin, one could pass that off as a familial connection, though she couldn’t see much more than appearance in common between the two Norblade males. Captain Synar’s nature was as stoic and calm as Malachi Synar’s was intense and on edge. She openly studied his form with interest, not bothering to disguise it—or hide it. But why was she so interested in the medic? Usually males bored her.

“One day, everything I am will make perfect sense to you,” Malachi said. “Until then, all you need to know is that I mean neither of you nor your sibling any harm.”

Seta snorted. “Why do I find that odd statement so amusing?”

“Your spirit is more wise than your conscious mind. Are you sufficiently stimulated now, Lieutenant? If so, I will ask to take my leave of your company. I need to pass duties to the medic taking the next shift,” Malachi said, bowing his head when he stopped walking.