Chapter Twelve
Nayan wanted to bond with her barbarian. More than anything. But she wouldn’t endanger his life to reassure him and make herself happy. “If beings find out what I am and we’re bonded, they’ll hurt you.”
“They can try.” His face hardened. “I’ve survived the Succession Wars and earned my place on Second’s team. I’m not easy to kill.”
She believed that. “Second could expel you from his team.”
“That’s unlikely.” His lips twisted. “He’s bonded to a human.”
Lead Medic, Second’s gerel, didn’t have claws, couldn’t blend into the background, either. Chamele genetics were dominant, but there was no guarantee Second and Lead Medic’s children wouldn’t take after their mother, be more human than Chamele.
Yet the two of them had risked everything and bonded.
“You’re running out of excuses.” Qulpa’s tone was dry.
“I’m scared.” She admitted to that weakness. “If you were harmed because of me, it would…break me.” She couldn’t live through that, couldn’t bear that guilt.
His face softened. “And if I was harmed because we didn’t bond, what would happen then? A being judged me harshly for having mechanical fingers. What would that same being do if he finds out I’m your warrior and you refused to bond with me?”
Zondoo. She hadn’t thought of that possibility. “He would judge you even more harshly for that.”
The genetic link between a gerel and her warrior was almost impossible to resist. Even now it pulled at her, fogging her mind, making her fingers twitch.
“No normal Chamele refuses to bond. He’d view you as being a…” She wouldn’t use the word he hated.
“He’ll find out, Nayan.” Her warrior’s voice was gentle. “We might be able to hide your uniqueness, but I’m not willing to conceal our connection…even if I could.”
Her gaze flew up to meet his. “What are you saying?”
“The warriors on Second’s team are like brothers to me.” Caring for them reflected in his eyes. “They know me almost as well as you do, can predict what I will do before I do it. I can’t fool them and I won’t lie to them.”
His certainty about not being able to conceal their relationship from them made her extremely nervous. “Do they know about us?”
“Some of the warriors already know you’re my gerel.” He confirmed that fact. “Soon, all of them will know how much you mean to me.”
It wouldn’t be long before everyone in the settlement realized he was her warrior. She blew out her breath. Their secret was out. Denying their link wouldn’t accomplish anything…except increase their frustration.
“Then we have no choice.” A selfish part of her was relieved the decision had been taken out of their hands. Any pleasure she experienced wouldn’t be mixed with guilt. “We have to bond.” She stripped away her hand coverings.
Her barbarian’s eyes gleamed. “You want to bond with me.” He unfastened her boots, pulled them off her feet.
She was tempted to lie as she often did, tell him she didn’t desire that connection with him, but he’d uncover her fabrication. He always did.
“Yes.” She parted her body covering. “I want to bond with you.”
She desired that with her entire heart, soul, everything within her. Her pussy dripped. Her nipples ached for his big hands.
“You want me to be your warrior.” He removed his ass coverings, dropping the strips of leather on the floor. His cock was as hard as the rest of him.
She gulped air, her need for her barbarian escalating. “I want you to be my warrior. I always did.” She had been worried about his safety. That trepidation resurfaced. “Qulpa, is this what you truly want because—”
“It’s what I truly want.” He surged forward, capturing her lips, the impact driving her backward.
She fell to the surface of the sleeping support. He followed her, covering her form with his, his skin warm, his muscles firm.
Her lips parted. His tongue stroked along hers. She spread her thighs. His cock glided over her wet folds.
She gripped his shoulders with her hands, hooked her feet above his ass and undulated against him, her desire burning brighter and brighter. He moved against her, rubbing his tip over her clit.
They’d done this previously—rutting without entry. It was good, but it was no longer enough for her. She wanted to experience everything.
And there was no longer any reason to forgo that pleasure.
“I need you inside me.” She wanted to be his in all ways, to truly belong to someone—no, not someone—to the magnificent male pressing against her.
“Then take me, gerel.” His command was edged with challenge.
Did he think she’d run from that dare? Her chin lifted. She would show him she wasn’t devoid of courage. He would see how strong she was.
She curled her fingers around his shaft. He groaned, that savage sound exciting her. She guided her warrior into her empty pussy.
His tip stretched her, the fullness divine. He was crafted for her. Their bonding would change them. Forever.
She wouldn’t be able to touch another male. He couldn’t make physical contact with another female, not without extreme agony. They’d become addicted to each other’s touch.
She was already at that point, needing more and more of him.
Her barbarian wasn’t as far gone as she was. He paused without pushing deeper, with only his cockhead inside her.
Bracing himself upward by his massive arms, he looked down at her. “You’re too tight.” Concern for her colored his voice. “I’m hurting you.”
He wouldn’t have said that to a true Chamele female. Her lips flattened.
“I’m not weak.” Intent on proving that to herself and to him, seeking to convince him she could be normal…at least in this one way, she pushed her hips upward.
She forced him deeper and deeper and deeper. The slide seemed never-ending, the pressure inside her intense. She dug red semicircles into his golden shoulders with her fingernails, relaying some of her pain to her warrior.
He grunted, taking that punishment stoically, without further protest. Her pussy lips finally slipped over the even larger ridge around his cock and kissed the coarse hair covering his base. The erotic invasion halted.
“Bonded.” She croaked that word, her eyes prickling with unshed tears. Her barbarian wasn’t her first, though he would be her last. He was definitely the largest.
She had never felt this stuffed with cock. Her body clung to his. Their souls connected, meshing into one. They were one.
That was done, couldn’t be undone.
Even if she wanted to, which she didn’t. “You’re mine.” She wasn’t giving him up.
“And you’re mine.” He rocked against her, his movements slow and shallow.
She arched her back, the tension inside her morphing from physical discomfort to emotional yearning. Her nipples brushed against his chest. Her legs tightened around his torso.
Her desire was tinged with wonder. She had never thought she would experience this—bonding with her warrior.
That lifespan-changing event was special to every Chamele. Not all of their kind found their genetic matches. But for her it was even more extraordinary…because she wasn’t normal.
She had long ago given up on joining with another being in this way, had discarded that impossible dream many solar cycles ago. Her lifespan had been crafted on the assumption she’d always be alone.
Yet here her warrior was. She gazed up at his stark scarred countenance. He was above her, inside her, all around her. His scent filled her nostrils, her lungs. His heat scorched her to her core.
His rutting, however, was much too gentle for her liking. He was treating her as though she was fragile, as though she would break.
That wasn’t necessary. She might be abnormal, but she could take him.
“Harder.” She kicked her heels against his ass cheeks.
He grunted and drove deeper into her. She rose up to meet him. Their bodies crashed together, the impact pleasing her.
It seemed to shock him. “Nayan?” He withdrew to his tip.
“Harder.” She repeated her command, abusing his ass once more.
A growl rolled up his chest and all chaos broke loose. He thrust deep. His balls smacked against her. The sleeping support slammed against the wall.
“Yes.” She recklessly threw herself against him, embracing the intensity, embracing him. “Yes.” A smile curved her lips.
His eyes gleamed and he rode her even harder, rutting her into the surface of the sleeping support, taking her again and again and again. Her pussy hummed. Her nipples throbbed. Sweat coated her skin.
“Mine.” He told her that with each drive forward.
Her barbarian had lost all control. His eyes had darkened to the blackness of open space, passion having doused the golden specks. The skin on his face had pulled tight. The veins in his neck had lifted.
She had done that to him, stripped his restraint, made him wild. A laugh escaped her lips, her joy wild, freely displayed. His body didn’t care that she had no claws, couldn’t blend into the background. She was giving him what he desperately needed.
And he was giving her everything she had ever wanted. In this moment, she belonged with him, to him. She clung to his shoulders and held on, reveling as her warrior used her, as he sated his dark hungers, imprinting them onto her smaller form, tattooing them on her flesh.
He drove into her at a reckless pace, spiraling her passion upward. Her arms and legs trembled. Her juices splattered over her thighs. Her musk scented the air, mixing with his aroma. Release rushed toward her and it took everything she had to push it back.
Qulpa was close also. His rhythm became faster, more erratic, almost desperate. “Mine. Mine.” He chanted that mantra over and over as though his brain couldn’t hold any more words. Perspiration streaked between the dips in his muscles, accentuating their size.
“Yes, mine.” She sucked on his collarbone, tasting his need, and a tremor ripped through him, pushing both of them closer to the edge. “Give me more.” Her chest tightened. “Give me everything.”
“Can’t.” He fought her command, pounding into her, every thrust expelling her breath. “No more. To give.”
The ridge around his base swelled, expanding his girth, increasing the pressure inside her. It was too much. She was stretched to the breaking point.
“I said”—she struggled to speak—“give me. More.” She clenched down on his shaft, ruthlessly taking what he wouldn’t relay.
“Mine.” Qulpa roared, surging forward. He pinned her ass to the sleeping support and bit down on the spot where her neck met her shoulders, breaking that delicate skin.
Pain pierced her while hot jets of cum hit her pussy walls, the dual assault severing her hold on reality. She screamed, plunging into the abyss, submerging herself in the most exquisite, acute pleasure. It stripped her bare, removed all remaining barriers between him and her.
They were no longer two beings. They were one.
The exquisite connection to her male threatened to overwhelm her. She had been alone for so long. The sense of belonging was terrifying. She had to escape him, run away.
Nayan writhed and wiggled under her barbarian, smacking his shoulders with her palms, unable to dislodge him. He remained locked in place, his cock in her pussy, his teeth in her skin.
That display of strength, of dominance, of possession, was primitive and savage and strangely reassuring, easing her fears. He was there and he had her, would never let her go.
She continued to fight him. Her warrior pushed even deeper into her, demanding she accept their bond, accept him.
And she did. The battle drained from her. She became still, her arms and legs limp. “Mine,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
“Mine.” He collapsed on top of her, flattening her.
She squeaked.
He rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She sprawled over his body, riding the ups and downs of his chest. He licked the mark he’d left on her neck.
His teeth were no longer inside her, yet they remained linked. His cock was lodged in her pussy, the ridge around his base fusing them together. Energy zinged from him to her and back again, a dizzying bombardment of connection. Their breathing had synchronized.
She was changing, her form bonding with his. The sensation was wondrous…and scary. Everyone would know they were together.
“I’ll equip you with some of the weapon prototypes I’ve been working on.” She would use her skills to keep him safe.
“Yesun would like that.” Humor lilted her barbarian’s voice.
“Take this seriously.” She lifted her head and frowned at him. “When other Chameles found out about me, my sisters were constantly challenged to fights.” They resented her for that, were ashamed they were family. “Some of those fights weren’t honorable.” They had been jumped from behind. “We have to prepare for this.”
Because beings would find out eventually about her. She’d accepted that long ago.
“I’ve been preparing all of my lifespan for this, Nayan.” He extended his claws.
They were long and sharp and natural. Envy shot through her.
“I’ve killed for our Warlord.” He looked every bit a warrior. “I’ve fought beings I had thought were my friends.” The Succession Wars had been brutal, pitting loved ones against loved ones, splitting Chameles into factions. “I’ve pierced their chests with my claws, felt their heartbeats slow and stop around that part of me, watched the light fade from their eyes.”
Ending those lifespans must have torn her honorable male apart.
She stroked his chest, seeking to soothe him, to banish those bad memories. “I’m sorry you had to do that.”
She wished she could have been there for him during those dark times, could have comforted him in some way.
He shrugged. A moment passed, both of them lost in contemplation.
Her warrior retracted his claws. “I killed for Khan, because I believe he’s the Warlord our kind needs.” He met her gaze. “I would do anything for you.” He cupped her chin. “Because you’re the female I need.”
There was no regret in his eyes, only warmth, wonder, gratitude.
She would be worthy of those emotions. “I don’t have natural claws, and my fighting skills are nowhere as good as yours are.” She hadn’t seen him fight, but anyone’s fighting skills would be better than hers. That wasn’t one of her strengths. “What I lack in those areas, I make up with ingenuity.”
He nodded. “I saw your mechanical claws.”
“You haven’t seen a fraction of my designs.” That was a fact, not a boast.
The set he’d seen had merely mimicked a Chamele’s natural weapons. They were designed to give potential enemies a fair fight. She’d crafted some claws that had more…extreme characteristics.
In the future, when she accompanied him, she’d don one of those sets. She linked her fingers with his. “I won’t fight honorably if someone attacks you.” She would utilize all of the resources she had to protect him.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “If there’s a fight, I expect you to run.”
“That’s what I did in the past.” She admitted to that shameful fact. “But in the past, I had nothing and no one to fight for.” She also didn’t have her devices.
He opened his mouth, a protest written all over his time-battered face.
“I know you can protect yourself and you can protect me.” She mollified her proud warrior. “But it is my responsibility, as your gerel, to safeguard you. That is the Chamele way.” A warrior protected his gerel, and a gerel protected her warrior. “Don’t deny me what is rightfully mine merely because I’m…different.”
“I would never do that.” He assured her of his stance.
“If we are attacked, I’ll fight by your side.” The enemy would face the full force of her fury.
And they would die.