Authors: Gun Brooke
“...and the authorities in charge are certain that these findings will have repercussions throughout our government, as well as among some of our high-profile businessmen and women. The news that the Thousand Year Pact has been violated, and people injured because of it, will no doubt reverberate throughout our system for years to come.” The news anchor went on to describe the Thousand Year Pact, but Dwyn stared blankly at the view screen.
How could things be revealed this quickly? She stood and began to pace, until the answer hit. “Damage control. Of course.” The reporter had mentioned repercussions for both politicians and top business tycoons. Perhaps even the local Cormanian military. Dwyn tried to harness her thoughts. It wouldn't do to become paranoid.
She sat down at the desk where a security guard had placed her computer bag, pulled out her computer, and accessed a flow-sheet software. She began to fill the chart with everything that had happened since she received her assignment from Aequitas. When she finished, she followed the different timelines and names with her finger and began to slowly relax.
Her initial reaction was correct. The people responsible, and the people who in turn had turned a blind eye to the ones responsible, must have heard that Kellen and Emeron had successfully captured two bots. And something in the bots' systems would lead the law-enforcement agencies directly to the ones in charge, or at least indirectly responsible. Yes, she decided, indirectly. Since these people wouldn't take the fall for the ones who commissioned the construction of the bots, everyone was now trying to cut deals, offering up the ones lower in the food chain.
Dwyn curled up in her chair and yawned. This last brainstorm was too much for her poor body. She needed to sleep. Reluctant to leave the cozy fire, she returned to the couch and clicked off the view screen. She was sure Emeron would fill her in when they saw each other and hoped she had found some time to clean up and rest. She would definitely be busy now. Testifying, helping to sort this mess out, and, on a personal level, trying to figure out where she stood regarding her ethnic affiliation. She hoped Emeron would have a little time for her. Hugging this hope to her, Dwyn yawned again and embraced a pillow as she huddled under the blanket.
*
Emeron stood watching Dwyn sleep. She had brought two other ensigns to relieve the ones at Dwyn's door and let herself in quietly. She told herself she just needed to make sure, to see with her own eyes, that Dwyn was safe. At first, when she wasn't in the bedroom, Emeron had panicked. Hurrying back to the living room, she found Dwyn asleep on the couch, barely visible among the blankets and pillows.
“Emeron...” Dwyn whispered, and crawled beneath the blanket. “Mmm... Yes.”
Suddenly hot, Emeron unbuttoned her collar and stared down at Dwyn. Her hair flowed over the pillows and the armrest, almost touching the floor. What was she dreaming? Was she having a nightmare?
“Yes, there. Mmm...”
That didn't sound like a nightmare. She knew she should leave and return to her quarters and finally get some sleep. But she couldn't take her eyes off Dwyn.
Suddenly Dwyn awoke. “Emeron?”
“Eh, hello.” She placed her hands on the back of the couch and tried to look casual. “Just checking on you.”
“Emeron?” Dwyn sat up, wrestling a little with the blanket that engulfed her. “You're really here? I mean, already?” Her voice had a husky, sleepy tone, which sent ripples of pleasure through Emeron.
“As I said. Checking. On you.”
“That's nice. Can I get you anything? Room service here is very fast.” Dwyn seemed unaware that her robe was open, though the blanket still covered her from the waist down.
“No, no, thank you. I ate at headquarters.”
“No more of those awful ration bars?” Dwyn's disgusted face made it clear she wasn't kidding.
“Admiral Jacelon sent out for food during our debriefing. It took quite a while.”
“What time is it?” Dwyn checked the chronometer on the coffee table. “Oh. Six in the morning. And you haven't slept?”
“Not yet. I'm on my way home.” Emeron's exhaustion was nearly suffocating her.
Dwyn jumped up and took her hand. The robe fell open completely, treating Emeron to the enticing view of Dwyn's breasts and the triangular shadow between her legs.
“Oh. Sorry.” Dwyn let go of her and secured the robe around herself with the belt. “All right, come on, then.” She guided her toward the bedroom. “Here. Undress and I'll use the computer to make you some underwear.”
“It's all right. I can sleep like this.” She fell into bed and knew she'd be asleep within seconds. She wanted to stay awake longer, to look at Dwyn, perhaps hold her, but she only managed to kick off her boots. She thought she felt soft lips on her forehead and her mouth, and she was certain that a soft voice said, “Sleep well.”
Emeron woke slowly, stretching her arms toward the ceiling where a crystal chandelier created an intricate light pattern. She flinched. A chandelier. She'd never stayed at a place with something so luxurious. She sat up and discovered that she was naked. Looking around, she saw no trace of her clothes, and now that she began to recognize her surroundings, she realized Dwyn wasn't there either.
An object on the nightstand caught her attention. A sanitizer rod. Was that a not-so-subtle hint that she smelled bad? She sniffed her armpit discreetly and ran a hand through her hair. In fact, she smelled of Dwyn's personal scent. Had Dwyn run the rod over her as she slept? She vaguely remembered being led into this fantastic bedroom last night, or morning. She checked the chronometer. Two in the afternoon. She jumped out of bed, pulling the sheet around her. She had to locate her uniform and return to headquarters immediately.
“You have the day off. Well, at least you have the afternoon off. You're to report in at 2000 hours. Captain Zeger's orders.” Dwyn stood in the doorway, dressed in a white tunic and light blue pants. Her hair was down and she looked healthy and rested.
“I...you sure?” Emeron felt silly standing there with the sheet wrapped around her.
“I'm sure. You can double-check, but that really isn't necessary. Captain Zeger and Admiral Jacelon promised to let us know right away if something comes up.”
“Ah. I see.” She sat down on the side of the bed and watched Dwyn approach, her lips curving in a half smile, so familiar by now. “Are you all right?” she asked, fully aware how husky she sounded.
“I'm fine. Thanks to you.” Dwyn stopped in front of her. “And I'm so happy that you're doing fine also.” She stroked Emeron's face. “So, very...very glad.” She kissed Emeron's forehead slowly. Her heart seemed lodged somewhere in her throat and pounded painfully.
Now she was certain she hadn't dreamed the kisses before she went to sleep. Dwyn kissed a trail down her nose, skipped her lips, and kissed her chin. She raised her head and looked intently into Emeron's eyes.
“I've dreamed of having you to myself without interruptions.”
“You have?” She closed her eyes briefly, trying to get herself under control. “I want you.” She opened her eyes and returned the unwavering gaze. She had to know that Dwyn, innocent in so many ways despite her worldliness, knew what they were talking about. “I want to make love to you.”
Dwyn blushed, a fresh pink color that enhanced her elfin beauty. “I want that too. I've never wanted it before, never thought those feelings...
these
feelings were meant for me.”
“What feelings are you talking about?” She pulled Dwyn onto her lap. She wanted her to feel safe and cared for, certain that she'd never want to hurt her. “Tell me.”
“You know that the only indulgence in my life has been listening to music.” Dwyn leaned against Emeron and nuzzled her neck. “I thought I was too unfeeling, too wrapped up in the causes I was involved with, and that wanting more was selfish.”
“So at times you wanted more?”
“When I
dreamed
of more.” Dwyn curled up and Emeron kissed the top of her head.
“I'm here. I'm prepared to give you more. As much as you want.” The words, so unlike her, came easily to Emeron. “Or as little as you want.”
“What do you mean, âas little'?” Dwyn peered up at her.
“Well, I want you. That's rather obvious, but I understand that you might want to go slowly. And truthfully, even if it has been quite a while, I'm still in full control of myself. I won't hurt you.”
At least I hope I'm in control. The way you smell, maitele, could drive anyone crazy.
“I don't want that,” Dwyn said, crushing Emeron's hopes until she continued. “I don't want you to be in control of yourself. I want to feel everything. I want you to let yourself go and remember that I'm not made of crystal like that chandelier.” Dwyn pressed her parted lips to Emeron's in a clear invitation.
She groaned into the kiss and met Dwyn's tongue with her own. The kiss deepened. Soft whimpers told her that Dwyn was far from unaffected by the kisses, and she eased them both onto the bed. At least Dwyn would lose her virginity on the finest of beds. Then she flinched and pulled away far enough to look into Dwyn's eyes.
“You don't have to make up your mind now, and you can tell me to stop any time you want. I'm just asking, are you sure? Iâ”
“Shh.” Dwyn placed a finger across Emeron's lips. “I'm sure. But thank you.” Dwyn raised her arms and tugged off her tunic, then her pants. To Emeron's surprise, Dwyn didn't wear any underwear.
“Oh, maitele.”
“Show me?” Dwyn pulled the sheet away. “Show me how to caress you.”
“You did fine when you touched me in the tent,” she managed. “Just to feel your hands against me is heavenly.” It had been so long since she'd been stroked by a lover, and even back then, it hadn't felt anything like when Dwyn slid her hands from her waist to beneath her breasts.
“Nipples?” Dwyn asked hoarsely, clearing her throat. “This good?” She rubbed her thumbs across Emeron's aching hard nipples.
“Yes.” Arching, she couldn't get close enough. “Like that.”
“Or like this?” Dwyn kissed the skin between her breasts, a hot burning trail to the left nipple, which she sucked into her mouth, just hard enough to make her cry out. Dwyn let go instantly. “Did I hurt you?”
“Only if you stop.”
“Oh.” Dwyn took the other nipple gently between her teeth and flicked her tongue over it.
“How do you know?” Emeron's head was spinning and her toes curled as wetness pooled between her legs.
“I watched a few instructional films this morning.”
“What?” Dizzy, she tried to focus on Dwyn and what she had said.
“Well, they were in the hotel database. Under âcultural exchange.'”
She barked out a short laugh and rolled Dwyn over on her back. Lying half on top, mindful not to crush her lover-to-be, she looked down at Dwyn, half-laughing, half-scowling. “You
studied
while I was asleep?”
“Yes. I didn't want to appear a complete moron.”
“Oh, maitele, you could never seem even remotely like a moron. If anyone, I'm the moron for not seeing you for who you are from day one.” She ran her hands over Dwyn's body, trying to feel all the satiny skin at the same time. She was greedy and about to lose the control she'd vowed she could maintain. Burying her head between Dwyn's small breasts, she pressed one leg between hers. “I want you so much. You're so sexy, so preciousâ”
“Emeron, yes, yes.” It was Dwyn's turn to arch, and she pressed Emeron's head against her, guided her toward her breasts. “Taste me. Please. I want you to, so much.”
Emeron knew then that she couldn't turn back. No matter what she'd told Dwyn, if Dwyn changed her mind, she'd have to direct a weapon at her or kick her where it hurt for her to stop now.
*
Dwyn spread her legs, hoping the fact that she was completely soaked wouldn't become embarrassing. Self-conscious, and more turned on than she had ever thought possible, she held her breath as Emeron's hand shot down between them. When it made contact with the sparse tuft of hair between her legs, Emeron groaned loudly and hid her head against Dwyn's neck. “You're so wetâ”
“Yes, I'm sorry.” She squeezed her eyes closed. “I know why. Butâ”
“Don't ever be sorry. This,” Emeron said, and ran a finger lightly along her sex, “is for me.”
And it was. She knew it and so, obviously, did Emeron. “It is.” Dwyn, trusting Emeron with her life, spread her legs farther, pulling one up to her chest.
“So willing.” Emeron spoke huskily and parted her folds. “So trusting.” The gentle fingertips examined the moisture and spread it farther. Every time they brushed over the small protrusion of nerves, she flinched, which made Emeron chuckle and sound very pleased. “So responsive.”
Two could play this game, she decided, and sneaked a hand down between them. If she was wet, Emeron turned out to be positively drenched. She slid her finger easily in between Emeron's folds, and now she realized why such wetness wasn't embarrassing at all. The scent of their lovemaking aroused her, and when she found Emeron's entrance, more or less by mistake, Emeron raised herself above her.