The Ninth Orb (24 page)

She gasped when the men escorting her grasped her and lifted her. Bearing her on their shoulders across the room until they reached the couch where Cal waited, they righted her. Trar and Jerd, who held her legs, folded them beneath her and positioned her above Cal, lowering her slowly until she felt the couch beneath her knees, they reached between her legs, spread the fleshy lips and then, to her shock, Jerd grasped Cal’s cock and aligned it with her body.

She was aroused despite her confusion and the head of his cock breached her with little resistance. They did not stop there, however. They bore down on her body until, slowly but surely, Cal’s turgid flesh was embedded deeply inside of her and she was gasping with the penetration of his hard, heated flesh. She felt his cock jerk inside of her and her body responded with quaking echoes. The need to move filled her, the need to feel his flesh stroking her passage.

It was denied her. They held her so that she could do no more than shift, panting with the need that quavered on the verge of completion. He twitched beneath her, his hips seeming to lift of their own accord until he ground against her. The grinding motion against her clit sent a harder wave of desire through her and she moaned faintly, partly from frustration that they wouldn’t allow her to assuage the ache, and partly because it still felt wonderful.

Cal groaned, bucking against her despite the restraints as if he could no longer bear to be still. It was enough to send her over the edge. Even as she felt his cock jerk and begin to spew his hot seed inside of her, her own body began to quake in a release that was almost disappointingly mild and left her almost as needy as she had been before.

She was still struggling with the sense of being cheated when she finally realized that Cal had not ceased to ejaculate. Sweat had popped from his pores. His face with contorted almost as if he was in agony. His body twitched, jerked, as he convulsed endlessly.

She stared at him, trying to gather her scattered thoughts, trying to grasp what was happening.

It dawned on her abruptly that the lounge was designed specifically for coupling. She’d thought Cal had been restrained because touching wasn’t allowed, but she realized abruptly that he’d been tied down because they had expected this reaction. And it seemed to follow that they were somehow responsible for it. She didn’t know how. She didn’t know what they were doing to make him continue to convulse on and on in release, but she could see he’d gone past bearing it.

She jerked against the hands restraining her. “Stop it,” she said hoarsely, struggling harder when they didn’t release her immediately.

They didn’t understand, she realized when she glanced around at their faces. She wasn’t wearing the translator and they couldn’t understand. She looked around for Baen, caught his gaze. “Stop it, Baen! Please!”

He stared back at her for so long she thought he would do nothing. Abruptly, he uttered a string of words unrecognizable to her, gesturing sharply.

Just as abruptly, Cal stopped seizing. Uttering a shuttering gasp, he went limp.

Eden wasn’t certain whether Jerd and Trar finally released her or if she managed to twist loose from them, but she abruptly found herself free. Leaning forward, she placed her ear over Cal’s heart. Reassured when she heard and felt the pounding rhythm, she lifted her head to study his face. “Cal?”

His eyelids fluttered.

Eden promptly burst into tears. She wasn’t certain whether it was tears of relief to see that he was alive and conscious, if barely so, or if it was the fear that remained that his body hadn’t been able to cope with whatever had been done to him.

Someone grasped her arm as if they would lift her away. “No!” she cried out, flinging the hand off. Moving up to settle beside Cal on the lounge, she stroked his cheek lightly with her fingers. “Cal?”

This time he opened his eyes a sliver and looked at her, muttering something she couldn’t understand.

It didn’t matter, she decided. He’d spoken to her, seemed to recognize her. Struggling with his weight, she slipped an arm beneath his head and cradled his head against her breast, stroking his chest soothingly. He shifted after a moment, rolling onto his side and snuggling closer and she felt a warmth encompass her that had nothing at all to do with desire and everything to do with feeling needed.

She drowsed after a time rousing when she felt someone pulling at her. Disoriented both by the lingering remains of what she’d drunk earlier and the drug of sleep, she murmured a complaint at being disturbed. Apparently, it had the desired effect, for only a few moments later she felt herself being lowered again. Cool sheets embraced her and the softness of a mattress. Snuggling deeply into the comfort of fresh sheets, soft bed and even softer pillows, she drifted away again.

She knew even as she drifted toward consciousness that something wasn’t quite right. For several moments after she finally opened her eyes, she simply stared at the alien ceiling above her head blankly before the events of the day before began to filter into her mind.

Pushing herself up on one elbow, she discovered that she was in the bed that Trar had said he’d designed for her, and she was alone.

In the bed.

She wasn’t alone in the room, she discovered. A warrior stood on either side of the door leading into her room like matched bookends.

One she knew must be of Baen’s brood, for there was a strong resemblance between all of the brothers. The other reminded her strongly of Jerd and she thought he must be of that brood.

Collapsing back against the mattress, she closed her eyes again, trying not to think of what had happened the night before.

Of all the things she’d imagined happening that was furthest from anything she’d thought of. What had they done? More importantly, why?

One thing she was certain of was that it was common practice. Everyone had expected it except her.

After a few minutes, uncomfortable with the presence of the guards, she got up and headed toward the bath. They immediately followed. Stopping in the doorway to block their path, she pointed toward the outer door. “Stay there!”

They didn’t understand what she’d said, but she could see they grasped her meaning. After exchanging speaking glances, they finally returned to the position they’d held before apparently having decided they didn’t actually need to be in the bath to guard her.

Maybe it was because she’d ordered them away, but she had the distinct feeling that they would have ignored any order she gave if it conflicted with their prime directive, which was to guard her with their lives.

Sighing weakly when she closed the door behind her, she moved to the pool and climbed in. The water level was a little high for sitting on the bottom, but she had her chin above water, and it felt good to have the warm water swirling around her. Relaxing slightly, she returned to the thoughts that had been plaguing her before.

She knew what they’d done. They’d used some device to trigger Cal’s ejaculation that continued to stimulate him long past anything that could be considered pleasure. There was no excuse for it, of course, but was there any actual reason behind it? Or was it some left over bit of barbarism they still practiced because of out dated beliefs? Or something else entirely?

Liz had said the women were pretty much incapable of getting around without assistance. She supposed that explained the fact that they’d ‘mounted’ her on Cal’s shaft. Possibly that was also the reason so many had been sent. Maybe it took four strong men to lift their females? Maybe they hadn’t been restraining her so much as they’d acted as they usually would, as if she needed help to stay mounted?

It made sense, she realized, feeling a little less angry and repulsed over the procedure once she’d reasoned it through.

If the female really couldn’t move without assistance, why place her on top though?

Because it was the dominant position, the position of power?

That seemed less reasonable but still a likely explanation, however unreasonable it might be.

Maybe, she decided, whatever it was that they’d used to stimulate Cal was something commonly used to ‘relieve’ the males? They’d all seemed familiar with it.

She was embarrassed and uncomfortable about the fact that she’d come under the circumstances. They’d relaxed her and aroused her without actually trying terribly hard, though, and she hadn’t felt a man inside of her in so long she’d almost forgotten how good it felt. She supposed that was reason enough to get overly excited with so little provocation.

And it wasn’t as if she’d had a fabulous, explosive orgasm. She’d felt almost as let down about it as she had relieved--like a half sneeze that only partially relieved the tickle.

She dismissed it. She’d dealt with the lack of a real sex life for years. She could deal with it right on.

What was she going to do about her current situation, though?

She’d lost it the night before, totally lost it when she’d realized that Cal was suffering. She hadn’t given one thought to the possible consequences of interfering with their customs after she’d braced herself to accept or ignore, and warned the others to do the same.

They couldn’t have understood what she’d said because she hadn’t been wearing the translator, but she knew damned well they’d never, ever, seen one of their women behave as she had.

Sitting up, she drew her knees up and covered her face with her hands, wishing she could go back in time, not to the night before, but to the day they’d arrived. If she’d had any inkling then of what the customs of the Xtanians were like, she would have refused to have anything at all to do with them.

How could she deal with this? How could any of them deal with this … this sexless sex? Reproduction without any feelings at all, even pleasure? She thought she understood the reasons behind most of their bizarre, ritualistic customs, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept it.

She was struggling with the purely feminine desire to pour out her misery in a torrent of tears when the door burst open so abruptly it scared the hell out of her. Her head snapped upwards as if someone had yanked it up.

Baen, looking both furious and frightened at the same time, stood in the door, his expression slowly slipping back into the mask he habitually wore to pretend he felt nothing at all.

Apparently recalling himself, he knelt in salute.

She couldn’t understand a word he said, however. She couldn’t tell if he was cussing her out for sending the guards away, or begging pardon for intruding. Apparently he realized it. A look of frustration crossed his features and he scanned the room. Rising, he moved to snatch her translator from the ledge where it had been left the night before and, to her dismay, waded into the pool and squatted down to shove the band onto her head.

He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger then and nudged her head up, studying her face. “You are unhurt?”

Her chin wobbled. She wasn’t unhurt. She hurt clear down to her soul, but she knew he wasn’t talking about that. “No.”

Something flickered in his eyes. “I know our customs seem as strange to you as yours do to us,” he murmured, quoting her almost verbatim from the day before, “but you must understand that you can never be left unguarded within the pazaan. We are here to make certain that no one trespasses.”

Eden frowned at that, feeling a prickling along her back. “I don’t understand.”

He studied her for a long moment. “You do, little queen. I will not believe that you are unfamiliar with the look of desire in a man’s eyes.”

Releasing her chin, he slipped an arm beneath her knees and one behind her back. Lifting her and carrying her from the bathing pool, he set her on her feet, glanced around and finally grabbed one of the drying cloths that had been discarded the night before during the ritual. After examining it to find the edges, he straightened it and wrapped it around her. He caught her chin again when she’d gripped the edges of the fabric, holding it around her.

“They see that you are not the same as the queens that they have known before. Now they begin to understand how great the difference is.”

Hearing the sound of footsteps in the bedroom, he released her and stepped away. A moment later Cal, Trar, and Vladiv appeared in the doorway. The three paused on the threshold, studying Baen for some moments, almost as if they were communicating with one another. Finally, they turned and moved to assist Eden, carefully drying the moisture from her skin and then helping her to dress.

Cal moved a little stiffly, but otherwise Eden could see no sign of any lasting hurt from the events the night before. He would not meet her gaze, though, and she sensed anger beneath the surface calm, sensed disapproval in all of them.

Under the circumstances, she supposed she should be relieved that it was no more than that. She’d been too upset to recall everything clearly, but it was enough to remember that she’d been upset, that she’d demanded that they stop, that she’d tried to offer comfort to him when it was something that was simply not done among his people.

She wanted to ask him if he was angry with her so that she could at least try to open a discussion, but she finally decided that it was probably for the best that she not attempted it.

She was borne back to the entrance to New Savannah as she’d been carried away. Contrary to what she’d more than half expected, however, no one made any wise cracks about it when she strode briskly through the corridor and into the city. Sarah Carter met her when she arrived, but aside from looking a question at her, the lieutenant was discreet enough not to broach the subject without invitation.

Her reticence, Eden reflected wryly, might not have been entirely due to her good judgment. Baen had detached himself from the others as she emerged from the thing they called a medenza and informed her that he would be her escort for the day. It had irritated her. She not only didn’t want to be under observation at all times, she had decisions to make that she preferred the Xtanians know nothing about. A very little consideration convinced her, however, that it would be better not to arouse any suspicions by flatly refusing to allow any Xtanians within the walls of New Savannah.