TICEES (12 page)

Korba also wondered what effect the Koll would have on all involved, but he cast the multifarious possibilities deep into the recesses of his love-struck mind. All he wanted to do was to take Chelan away, to be with her alone, endlessly, and to drown in her love. He wanted to share their passion with unyielding abandon, and ultimately, to impregnate her with his seed, the supreme act by which he would affirm the height of his love for her. And he wanted to watch her body change as she swelled with the product of their love, the pinnacle of their bond displayed as she bore his child.

Chelan, however, was oblivious to Korba’s all-consuming turmoil and unrest, her desire to please him and make him proud of her at the Koll her sole preoccupation. She awoke each morning in his powerful embrace, and that was all she really cared about. Their nights of lovemaking were a mélange of unspent, heated passion, coupled lovingly with warmth and gentleness, the likes of which neither had dreamed existed.

But Chelan still loved Fremma, and Korba’s departure each morning was made just that much easier to endure by simply turning her attention to her dear warrior, her heart once again free of loneliness. Thoughts of Dar periodically pierced through her mind, but he was absent, and her struggles with her emotions and her love for both Fremma and Korba were all that she could comfortably deal with anyway.

Finally, it was the day before the Koll, and Chelan had left the Command Center on the heels of Korba to finish her gown. As she entered the suite she was somewhat perplexed by Fremma’s absence, but she set to her tasks immediately.

The hours passed, and finally the entrance doors parted. Fremma strode in, and Chelan rose from the bed where she had been tending to her work. Her smile broadened as she saw the strength in his gait and the increasing ease with which he carried himself.

He smiled back at her and hugged her warmly. Chelan looked up into his bright azure eyes and noticed the moisture on his face. “Where have you been?” she asked, a combination of concern and excitement mingling in her words.

“I decided that it was time for a little workout,” he admitted. “And it felt great,” he added quickly, noticing the color fading from her cheeks.

“Are you okay?” she gasped.

“I’m fine, Chelan,” he reassured. “Believe me, I took it easy. But right now, I desire a badly needed shower. So, if you will excuse me, my Lady.”

Chelan turned hurriedly to the bed. “I’ll get my things off here right away,” she said anxiously. “You should lie down afterward and rest.”

“Chelan,” he asserted firmly. He walked back to her and turned her to him. “I am fine. And I am not tired. When I have finished my shower, I simply want to watch you work. And when you have finished and you have the time—” He hesitated. “Korba has asked me to explain to you some of the rules and the etiquette that surround the conduct of the Koll.”

Chelan smiled, but suddenly her face registered confusion. “Will he not be back tonight?”

Fremma shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not. And I’m surprised that he did not tell you.”

Chelan shrugged. “He’s very busy, and he probably simply forgot. Besides, I should have expected it. The Koll must take a lot of preparation.”

Fremma was pleased with the ease at which she accepted the situation and with her accurate assessment of why Korba would be absent. But what he did not tell her was that Korba never forgot anything. Fremma knew that the Warlord had deliberately not mentioned it. By omitting that piece of information, Korba knew Chelan would return as usual to his chambers in the evening.

But now she did know, and Fremma took a deep breath, his emotions laced with guarded anticipation. He had not been ordered to escort her back to the Command Center in the evening, and this realization caused the warrior’s heart to stop. “Well, at least with his absence, that takes the pressure off you pertaining to the gown.”

Chelan nodded. “Actually, I have only a very short time to put into it before it will be done. And come to think of it, while you’re showering, I should probably do some working out of my own. It’s been a while, and I could use the stress release.” Then she looked at him defiantly. “So, while I’m gone, you make sure you get some rest.”

Fremma did not argue with her fixation about his rest, and he kissed her forehead gently. “Well then, my Lady, I shall see you later.” He nodded to her, then turned for the shower.

Chelan watched him disappear, his right arm’s motion fully restored. She smiled to herself and set about cleaning off the bed, carefully replacing the remaining sequins into their container. She draped the gown over a chair, her touch so gentle and reverent that it appeared as though the garment would break under her fingers.

She started toward the main doors, thinking momentarily about the type of workout she would pursue. Then she faltered, her thoughts turning to Korba’s prolonged absence. A knot formed in her stomach. Fear of the Koll edged further into her mind, and she shuddered. All her time and attention so far had been taken up by Korba and the gown, but now the imminent reality of the reception was seeping into the cracks of her defenses, threatening to weaken her resolve. She winced and tried to think about anything other than the momentous event.

Suddenly, she was magnetized by the sound of the shower and drawn to the echo of the cascading water as it reverberated throughout her psyche. She felt dizzy with uncertainty and anxiety. She needed a diversion, and the last thing she needed was to be alone. Then, almost catatonically, she entered the en suite. She looked at Fremma’s muscular bronze back, the water streaming over his long hair and pasting it down between his powerful shoulders. His biceps bulged as he ran his hands through his mane, every muscle beautifully sculpted.

Chelan nearly staggered at the intensity of the fire that she felt tear through her body. Thoughts of their intimate acts of love flooded forth from her memory, and she closed her eyes against her salacious visions.

She looked up again, watching as his hands smoothed over his own impressive and potent body. She nearly swooned at the sight of his flawless muscles rippling in response to his subtle motions, every masculine inch of flesh igniting a sexual need so profound it staggered her senses.

Chelan’s mind suddenly recoiled at the clash of Iceanean and Earth values, and she clutched at her breast, her breathing erratic. The internal storm churned, pulling her in all directions at once. She turned to leave, but she could not. She turned back to him, her defenses slipping away under the assault of her own body’s urgings. She swallowed hard, and then she slithered out of her gown. She approached him cautiously, not sure of how he would react to her advance. She moved in behind him, aware that though he would not have heard her, his warrior instincts would have alerted him to her, and she paused.

Fremma was well aware of her presence, but he wanted her to come to him when she was ready. The last thing he wanted to do was to scare her. Their ultimate bonding had to be on her terms alone.

Chelan suddenly became self-conscious of her exposure. She hugged her breasts tightly with one arm as she reached out to touch his back with her other. Her fingers brushed his tawny flesh, and Fremma swung around, his eyes ablaze. “Chelan,” he whispered.

Chelan looked over the giant man before her, and her mouth actually watered. He was a true feast for the eyes and a carnal delicacy awaiting her touch. Her eyes flowed over him, following the lines of clearly defined, rock-hard muscles. All her breath seemed to leave her lungs as she looked down and watched him thicken with every powerful pump of his heart. In mere seconds, his full sexual readiness was obvious.

She took a faltering step toward him, and then he reached for her, pulling her forcefully to him. The icy water stole her breath, and her skin contracted in response to its brutal assault. But her lips were instantaneously warmed as Fremma consumed them voraciously.

Chelan pushed on him suddenly, withdrawing as she tried to catch her breath. It was all happening too fast. She wanted to run and regroup. But at the same time she felt weak. She needed to come to grips with the last vestiges of her Earth-bound moralities, tame the maelstrom swirling about her, and embrace all that was being offered.

Fremma’s eyes coursed over her. Her nipples were hard and erect, and a growl emanated from his chest at the sight of her. Then he hesitated, giving her the time she needed to assimilate all that could happen. He placed his hands on each side of her face and leaned his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes. “Every time I breathe, I take you in.” He brushed his lips over hers and then whispered in her ear, “I want to go deep.” He inhaled her scent. “I want to taste your love … all your love.”

Chelan felt like collapsing before him. In the clarity of passion, there was no denying her need, or her love.

Fremma looked at her, and he saw her eyes light as a small smile touched the corners of her sweet mouth. His fingers traced down her cheeks and to her lips, where they lingered, awaiting her acceptance. Chelan reached for his hand, holding it as she took one of his fingers into her mouth and sucked it.

With the internal tempest in him unleashed, Fremma dropped to one knee before her. Every nerve in his body engaged sexually, and the male animal in him wanted to pounce, to tear into her and consume her instantly. But the disciplined warrior in him wanted to take her slowly, to drug himself on her sexual elixir, and immerse himself mind, body, and soul in all that she had to offer.

Chelan could only look down and watch him. She clutched his hair in her fists as he dared to touch her breast with his tongue, his oral caress causing a flood of warmth to flow between her legs. His taste of her nipples was gentle, but her body’s response was not. She could offer no protest now, and she knew she was his, just as she truly wanted to be.

Fremma’s hands held her soft breasts as he trailed tender kisses down her body, stopping just above her womanhood, and he closed his eyes. He could smell the nectar that dripped from her body, calling him to take her, and he was drunk with passion. Slowly, he stood and looked deeply into her dark brown eyes. His voice was sonorous. “Will you permit me, my Lady?”

Chelan swallowed, her eyes searching his as she swept any lingering tendrils of her Earthly inhibitions to the side. “Yes,” she breathed. “I want you.”

Fremma closed his eyes. His ears had finally heard the most beautiful words she could have ever spoken. The time he had wished for and dreamed of was finally his, the time when he could taste of her soft folds and give back to her all the pleasures she had unselfishly given to him so many times.

Fremma fought the urges to kneel once again before her, to idolize her for the beauty she was, and to worship her for the permission she had just granted to him. Instead, he picked her up and carried her to his bed, not even taking the time to dry himself or her.

He laid her on her back and slid up next to her, his body quaking as much from disbelief as from desire. He rose up on one elbow and traced her curves with his fingers, his eyes wide, his ragged breath restrained. “I want to fill you with dreams.”

Chelan arched and reached for his straining erection, but Fremma intercepted her hand. “No,” he breathed huskily, his voice racked with emotion. “Just you,” and he looked over her once again. He moaned and closed his eyes. “Just you,” he repeated, almost inaudibly.

He hunched over and kissed her taut abdomen, his tongue circling her small navel. His hand smoothed over her thighs as he looked to the soft mound between her legs, the delicate nest of golden-brown hair that guarded her womanhood, the sight of her sending spasms of heavy wanting throughout his body. His thick, swollen member hardened even more, his skin burning with distention and unrestrained hunger.

Fremma closed his eyes and clamped his jaw in a desperate struggle for control, his body defiant in his effort to proceed slowly. He prayed that Chelan would not touch him, knowing full well that he would spend himself rather than take her hastily. But she remained still, letting him have his time.

Fremma lowered his head to her abdomen once again and ran his hand up her thigh to her closed knees. He exerted a gentle pressure and groaned, his reward revealed as she allowed her legs to part easily. He caught her moist, feminine scent of slippery acceptance, and his muscles tightened. Never had he been so taxed for restraint, his throbbing shaft straining against his wishes. Fremma took several deep breaths to still the turbulence surging between his mind and body. Then, he opened his eyes again to the delicacy splayed for his taking. In all their times together, she had never allowed him to touch the center of her beauty, but now she blossomed for him, inviting him in. If ever there was a paradise to be had, he had just found it.

His hand travelled down slowly to her soft womanhood, and he hesitated, his heart pounding, knowing he would never want to release her once he touched her. He rose slightly and lay softly across her waist. His hands spread her legs farther apart.

Chelan gasped as the cool air invaded her depths, and she stiffened slightly, self-conscious of him looking into her most private folds, but her body was painted in flames, and she wanted desperately for him to touch her. Her fingers feathered over his shoulders and down his back, her anticipation of his touch such exquisite torture.

Fremma had felt her tense, but he knew that would be her natural response. Still he hesitated, staring down at what was now offered to him. He licked his lips at the sight of her swollen flesh, the vision alone almost forcing him to come without a single touch. Finally, he allowed his fingers to enter her. The moment he touched her, she cried out, and he almost lost it.

Stilling his ragged breathing, he parted her outer folds and looked longingly at her reddening labia, her sweet juices coating them in loving anticipation. He could no longer help himself even if he’d wanted to, and he leaned forward and took his first long taste of her inner depths.

Chelan cried out again, her muscles clenching as his touch threw her into the depths of unrestrained arousal. She panted for air, her body aching to be filled.