The Starlight Rite Page 11

  His hard mouth curved into a dark smile. “Look at me, laria.” He held her gaze as he moved within her, in, out, plunging harder and deeper as her body relaxed to his invasion. Then, he hammered into her, and the driving need lifted her hips to match his thrusts. She began to tighten inside and tried to arch her back. More, more.

  Resting his weight on one arm, he set his other hand on her breast. His fingers circled her nipple once and then squeezed the peak.

  The tiny pain was like the falling leaf that sets off an avalanche. “Oh, oh, ohhh.” Not an explosion, but a wave of exquisite sensation starting from where they joined, and it didn’t stop. The incredible pleasure rippled outward, expanding until even her fingers tingled.

  She barely saw his grin before his face went taut, the cords in his neck standing out. His short, hard strokes made her shudder, and then he groaned, and his shaft jerked inside her, making her vagina spasm again.

  With a sigh, he dropped onto the bed beside her, and for one second she felt abandoned and lonely. Unwanted.

  He pulled her up against his side and pushed her head into the hollow of his shoulder. He curved an arm around her back to stroke her, and contentment blew through her like a warm wind.

  “You know, Mella, I thought you said you had been married.”

  Her fingers ruffled the crisp hairs on his chest. His nipples were flat, almost hidden. “Um. What?”

  “Married?”

  She stiffened. “I was.” But I’m not now. The judge said so; I say so. She didn’t want to think about Nathan, not now.

  “Do Earth men not have the same equipment as Nexans: a shultor and globes?”

  “Of course they do.” Lethargy dragged at her limbs, and her brain felt like an underpowered ship trying to escape gravity. “What kind of question is that?”

  “Obviously you’ve never touched a man before—or even seen a man’s shultor. How can that happen?”

  Her finger circled one flat nipple. Such soft satin skin on this hard man. How strange.

  He squeezed her shoulder. “Mella, answer me.”

  “On Earth, we don’t believe in—You’re not supposed to look at…or touch…things…when you couple. It’s a sin.” She made a noise of complaint when he rolled her over and stared down at her.

  “You did not caress your husband, and he did not fondle you.” The disbelief in his voice gave way to disgust. “What kind of a culture…? Shulin is a gift from the gods to humans. Given to us for joy.”

  And that was exactly what he’d given her, she realized. The tiny pain of a pinch and even her embarrassment had only led to increased arousal and deeper ecstasy. She reached up to brush her fingers over his solid jaw and high cheekbones. His firm lips had the same satin texture as the nipple she’d just stroked.

  To touch another truly is a kind of joy.

  His lips curved. How could gray eyes appear so warm? “You’ve never touched me on your own before, laria.” He pressed a kiss into her palm as she moved her fingers over his face. “Perhaps we should let you explore further.”

  * * *

  Unable to face Dain the next morning, Mella sneaked out to the sun garden at dawn. Pulling her robe close against the chill air, she settled onto a stone bench. The purple grasses wet her toes with cool dew. Fiery red birds darted between the two tall fountains, snatching small insects out of the air. Considering the exhaustion weighing down her limbs, the birds’ enthusiasm seemed excessive.

  Thinking of enthusiasm led her back to why she’d come out here. Somehow she needed to understand her behavior. Last night had been… She’d never felt like that with Nathan. Not only reaching climax after climax, but being so aroused, so willing to do anything. What she’d let him do… A rush of heat ran through her like fire.

  He had ordered her, told her exactly what to do. She’d not only followed his commands, but his control of her had excited her. Just the memory of his hard hands holding her immobile made her dampen. On Earth, she’d stayed as independent as society allowed, running her home, her career, and caring for Nathan and her family. But she sure hadn’t acted independent last night. Had being a slave done this to her?

  “What has you concerned, Mella?”

  Mella jumped and turned.

  Dain walked down the path toward her. He wore loose black pants and an embroidered white tunic that displayed his bronzed muscular arms. His scent wrapped around her, strongly masculine with a slight forest tang, and she realized her skin still bore traces of it, as if he’d marked her with himself.

  Watching her face, he straddled the bench, facing her. In the morning light, his eyes were a smoky gray. “Mella?”

  “I’m not concer—” When his black brows drew together, her lie stuck in her throat. Pulling her gaze from him, she stared down at the funny-colored grass, so soft under her bare feet. “Last night,” she managed finally.

  “Ah.”

  She looked and saw amusement in his eyes as he said, “You wonder about your response to me—no, not to me exactly, but to my control over you.”

  Her cheeks heated.

  He smiled slowly. Still straddling the bench, he slid her closer, until her legs bumped against his. Until her hip nestled against his groin and she could feel his hard shaft. He pulled her to his chest, his warmth comforting in the chill of the morning—comforting, until he slid his left hand inside her robe and captured a breast.

  “Hey.” When she struggled and tried to push his hand away, he tightened his arm, keeping her immobile, and her efforts failed dismally.

  To her horror, her nipple bunched to a peak under his touch, and she grew wetter. Why was this happening to her?

  “You prudish Earthers have so many limits and rules.” His thumb circled her nipple, and the slight roughness of his skin against her sensitive tissue was incredibly exciting. “Until last night, I had no idea how limited your experience was.”

  She could feel her heart rate increasing as he fondled her breast.

  “Shulin—sex—can have more variations than birds in the sky.” He glanced at the nearest tree, where a flock of multicolored avians bickered over nesting grounds. “A man and woman sharing equally is only one option.”

  He held her immobile as he nuzzled just below her jaw. “Other choices can include various positions as well as participants of either sex. And there are differences in the power each brings to the relationship.” He bit the muscle in the curve of her neck, and heat shot straight through her body.

  “Dain—”

  “Don’t move. Don’t speak,” he growled, and she froze without thinking. “I am a male of the Zarain kinline, which means in my relationships, Mella, I dominate, and my partner submits—to anything I ask of her. I find the sight of a woman surrendering—everything—incredibly arousing.”

  She swallowed. His words alone made hunger roll through her, and the heat of his hand on her breast grew unbearably exciting.

  When he rolled her nipple between his fingers, she couldn’t contain the moan. His lips curved. “To be fully aroused, you, little thief, have a need to submit. A need to give up control.”

  The thought appalled her, releasing her from the spell. She shook her head, starting to—

  “Don’t move,” he snapped, and her body stilled. “On Nexus, we accept that mutual pleasure comes in various ways.”

  “I don’t like being controlled,” she said, trying to ignore her body’s response.

  He chuckled and tipped her backward. As she grabbed his shoulders, she felt his hand between her legs, sliding in the telltale wetness there. To her shock, he pushed one finger deep inside her, and she inhaled sharply at the overwhelming sensation. Keeping her trapped and helpless, he tapped his thumb against her clit, raised an eyebrow at her betraying quiver, and gave her a level look. “Now tell me that being controlled is not exciting to you.”

  “It…it—”

  “Do not lie to me, laria. Not unless you need another lesson over my knees.”

  The memory of his hand s
lapping her bare bottom made her vagina clench around him. “It’s exciting,” she whispered. It was the truth; she couldn’t hide from it.

  His cheek creased as he smiled. “Yes, I dominate, and you submit because that is what inflames you. We suit rather well, don’t you think?” His eyes crinkled as he slowly removed his hand and held up his fingers, which glistened with her arousal in the early-morning light.

  Chapter Twelve

  As she walked out of the kitchen two days later, Mella heard Cannalaina arguing with someone in the family room. The child sounded close to tears. “I can’t play it. I’m too dumb, and my fingers don’t move right.” The unhappy twang of a plucked harp string echoed in the hallway.

  Mella’s feet took her in that direction before she realized she’d moved. The clan’s family room was huge. Soft carpets covered the floor, and rich tapestries of historical events hung on the golden walls. A stone fireplace with glowing coals dispelled the morning chill. Each corner held a group of overstuffed chairs, couches, and floor cushions: one area for talking, one for watching vid, and one with a table for card playing. Another table boasted a massive puzzle. The wall farthest from the heat was the music space, where Cannalaina and her mother glared at each other.

  “Everyone in our kinline masters a musical instrument, Canna. And you chose this one.” Felaina’s voice had the level tones of someone trying not to yell.

  “Nobody can play this stupid thing.” Cannalaina scowled, looking like she wanted to kick the freestanding harp. “Not even you.”

  Mella smothered a smile as she crossed the room. In their occasional meetings, Dain’s sister had always acted friendly. Maybe Mella could return the favor. “I can play it.”

  Canna’s mouth dropped open, and then her little brows drew together in suspicion. “Can you really?”

  “Really.” After seating herself in front of the harp, Mella plucked the strings. The resonant sound ran through her in a joyful hum. “This is one of the pieces I learned when I was your age.” And she played Beethoven’s lovely Moonlight Sonata. Out here on this frontier planet, after their long isolation, would the Earth classics have survived?

  Her thoughts slowly disappeared as the music pulled her into its embrace, which was both comforting and exhilarating.

  Canna edged a few inches closer, her gaze fixed on Mella’s fingers as the piece reached its perfect conclusion.

  “This is one I …learned…as an adult.” With a soft breath, Mella threw herself into the song, losing herself in the joy of the music she’d composed during a week she and her family spent at a storm-torn Pacific beach. Now the intricate harmonies splashed like breakers into her soul, washing away the traces of grief. As the song came to an end, she lingered on the last few notes before settling her hands in her her lap. Her fingertips burned, and she frowned at the reddened skin. “I haven’t played in a very long time.”

  “That was ‘Poseidon’s Rapture.’” Felaina rested a hand on Mella’s shoulder. “I fell in love with the music the first time I heard it, and it’s one of the few songs from off-planet that Grandsir allows. The song is one of Archer’s best, I thought, and yet you play it even better than she did.”

  “Added depth, maybe?” Dain stepped into the family room. “I daresay Mella has experienced more sorrow than some rich and famous vocalist.”

  The music still sang in Mella’s body, ever joyful. And yet Dain’s observation contained truth; her grief had added something, let her find the deeper elements in the song.

  He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “Thank you, laria.”

  She smiled at him, unable to say how much his open pleasure in her playing meant to her. So she turned to Canna instead.

  The lure of the harp had drawn the child forward until she leaned against Mella’s knees. “Can I can learn to play like that?” she whispered, eyes shining.

  Mella could almost see melody of the girl’s spirit, and she touched the child’s cheek. “Yes. If you want it badly enough, you can.”

  “Will you show me?”

  “I will.”

  * * *

  That evening, Dain found Mella in the blue garden making notes on a piece of paper. Engrossed, she didn’t hear him approach, and he paused a moment to enjoy the sight of her. The dark red color of her loose hair rivaled the sunset behind her. Her white teeth bit into her pink bottom lip as she scribbled on the paper. She hummed a few notes, then wrote again. He stepped closer to see the paper.

  Music. She was composing music.

  He shook his head. He didn’t know her last name, her clan, how she had gotten stranded on his planet, or apparently very much of what she liked at all. He’d had women over the years, but none as reticent as this one. “I haven’t known many Earthers,” he said.

  She startled, dropping her pencil and paper.

  Bending, Dain ran a finger down her cheek. Softer than silk. “Do they all keep secrets as thoroughly as you do?”

  She looked at him blankly, obviously still absorbed in the music she’d been writing. Then her big green eyes focused. “Well. Probably some do and some don’t.”

  “I see.” He’d made a good start at learning the secrets of her body, but each day he discovered new facets to her personality. More mysteries in her past. Did she realize how intriguing riddles were to someone in law enforcement? Just to watch her mentally sidestep, he asked, “Did you leave anyone behind on Earth?”

  A lie hovered in her mind, and then she paused and frowned. He could see her shift, the pain from her spanking recent enough to bring discretion. “Um. No one important to me is there now,” she said carefully.

  Clever little Earther. He chuckled, hauled her up, and took her mouth. He had only planned to taste, but her lips were soft, her mouth warm and welcoming, and the slight hitch in her breathing had him wanting to bend her over the bench and take more. Give more.

  With a sigh, he stepped back, running his hands up and down her bare arms. “My grandfather, Clanae Solain, thinks we’ve hidden out long enough. We are to join the family for the lastmeal.”

  In a supremely feminine gesture, she touched her hair, then frowned at her simple house gown. “Now?”

  “Yes, laria.” He set her composition into her hand and gave her a push toward the arched opening in the hedge. “If you run, you can put your music away and find some shoes.”

  She looked down at her bare feet in horror, then darted away. Before she disappeared through the archway, he had time to note how enticingly her bottom bounced with her running. Already hard enough for discomfort, he growled and headed for the dining room. Duty called, although he’d far rather strip her bare and sink his teeth into a curvy buttock.

  * * *

  “Grandsir, this is Mella from Earth. Mella, this is Solain, the clanae of Clan Zarain,” Dain said.

  Seated at the end of the crowded dining-room table, Solain rose to his feet.

  Mella looked up at the older version of Dain. Solain had the same straight, broad shoulders and lean, hard face, although his eyes were black rather than dark, dark gray. The clanae’s hair was mostly silver, the darkly tanned face deeply lined, but Mella could see that his grandson would only grow more attractive as he aged.

  When she glanced at Dain, she saw the silver strands sprinkled through his hair, and a heavy feeling settled in her stomach. Someday, he would grow old. And no matter how well he aged, eventually he would die.

  Why did the thought make her want to cry? Ignoring the way Dain’s brows had drawn together and his hand had tightened on her arm, she returned her attention to the old warrior in front of her. Forcing her lips into a smile, she said, “I’m pleased to meet you, sir.”

  With a finger, the clanae turned her face from side to side. “Few Earthers come to Nexus. In the last few years, I’ve seen a dark-skinned, tall Earther female and a slender blonde with golden skin. And now you—a redhead with translucent skin and lovely curves. Is this diversity normal on your planet, or do only the odd ones leave?”
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br />   Had that old man just called her odd? Glaring, Mella pulled away from his touch and stepped back, not caring if he thought her rude. Lifting her chin, she let her voice take on an instructional tone, as if he were a grade-school boy. “Earth has the most diversity of the known worlds. Emigrants to the frontier planets were more homogenous since they tended to be from one country or even one clan. I can recommend a book for you to read, if you’d care to increase your knowledge.”

  “Feisty little slave.” The clanae’s grin looked so much like Dain’s that it made her heart thump. He gave Dain an amused look. “A shame Earthers are so small, or we might consider breeding a few to add variety to the kinline.” A ripple of laughter ran down the table.

  “An interesting suggestion, Grandsir.”

  Mella turned her glare toward Dain and saw his lips quirk. After bowing to his grandfather, he pulled out a chair for her, then sat beside her on the clanae’s right. Across from them, Dain’s mother sat to Solain’s left, followed by Felaina, her spouse who had just returned from the militia, and her children. A variety of kinlines from the Zarain clan filled the rest of the long table, and she noticed the higher proportion of males to females held true here also.

  After glancing around, she dropped her gaze and flinched at her impossible-to-overlook indenture bracelets. Dain’s family must look at her and see a criminal bought for sex. Biting her lip, she tried to tell herself this was just another formal dinner in a long line of formal dinners. Really. Her parents had loved to entertain. And Nathan—his ambitions had dictated they attend any event to advance his position.

  She frowned, remembering him strutting through a room full of guests, his bearing pompous. An elder in the church, he wielded an exorbitant amount of power, and he enjoyed using it. He’d hated when he couldn’t boast about being Armelina Archer’s husband. That was the only thing she’d ever denied him, her anonymity more important than his pleasure. She had never performed in public. Ever. So no one had discovered that Nathan’s wife, Mella, was the famous singer Armelina Archer. Not until now.