Mine to Take

  His cool jade eyes surveyed the scene before him.

  Across the way two off-world aliens were arguing with a native about an item for trade; to one side of them a beggar was being thrown from a tavern; and in the foreground a thief was making off with a bolt of fabric.

  It was like countless other outlying worlds he had been on.

  Barely civilized.

  At first glance there seemed nothing out of the ordinary about it. So why had taj Gian disappeared here?

  Moving off to a relatively quiet corner, he ducked behind a market stall. One of his gifts was the ability to “see.” It was an expertise that occured in some but not all high-level mystics. This talent would show him the places where Gian Ren had been. If Gian was here, he should be able to “see” him; if not, he would follow the trail of pictures, “seeing” the places he had been.

  Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the image of Gian Ren.

  His smooth brow furrowed as the image of a dungeon cell materialized in his mind’s eye. Chains hung from the wall. The manacles at their ends were empty. Had Gian been kept prisoner here?

  The images continued:

  A room with a single window…

  A stream…

  A vine-covered valley…

  A small outlying village by…a Tunnel.

  Perhaps Gian had escaped and gone through the Tunnel? Traed tried to focus his energy on the image of the Familiar. The picture in his mind wavered suddenly and he saw an ancient sylvan forest. An impression of a small thatched cottage came into view.

  Traed delved into the vision, curious as to what it meant. Was the Familiar there?

  Now his inner eye focused on the interior of the hut. The furnishings were sparse and old. A bed was by the fireplace. Someone was lying on the bed, a huddled mass writhing in pain.

  Traed attempted a closer vision. Gian? The strange vision dissolved.

  It was not Gian.

  Traed did not understand what he had seen, so he passed it off as unimportant. He was here to find Gian Ren and must focus on his task. Obviously the vision had not been accurate.

  Had he been mystically trained, he would have known that all visions of the “sight” are significant, if not accurate. A trained Charl would have gone to the hut to investigate.

  Once again, fate stepped in and steered the Aviarian away from such a path. He overheard two merchants gossiping about the escape of a prisoner several days before. He listened carefully.

  “Took our lady! Stole our princess!”

  “They say he forced himself upon her, then made her accompany him.”

  “What do you expect from one of that kind?” The man spat on the ground. “Aliens!”

  Knowing Gian, Traed could only surmise that said princess had begged him to take her along—although he had a difficult time imagining taj Gian agreeing to such a thing.

  Unless it suited him.

  Well, he knew now that Gian had been held prisoner here and that he had already escaped. Discovering the reasons behind his capture would have to wait.

  His priority was finding Guardian of the Mist.

  From all accounts, he was on the run; undoubtedly he was trying to make his way back to M’yan, his homeworld.

  Traed had seen the Tunnel the Familiar had used to flee, but he could not tell which of the other two Tunnel points on this world it was. He approached the two men he had overheard.

  “You there!” he said in his usual blunt way. Traed was not one to soften his manner.

  The two Ganakari turned, staring at him in astonishment.

  It was not often such a rich-looking stranger came to their world. They instantly assessed the clothes he wore. They were of the finest Aviaran weave, enchanted by the Weaver’s Guild of Aviara from the look of their perfect appearance. Aviarans rarely visited non-Alliance rim worlds.

  One of the men stepped forward, bowing obsequiously. “May I be of service to you?” He eyed Traed’s dark maroon cloak, wondering if he could bargain the man out of it.

  Traed came right to the point. “What Tunnel point did the prisoner use to escape?”

  The man’s cheeks flushed. “And why would you be wanting to know that? Are you ally or foe to the Ganakari people?”

  “Neither. My business is not your concern. Do you or do you not have this knowledge?”

  “I know for a price.”

  Traed sighed. He detested this kind of work. “What is your price?”

  The man eyed Traed’s black boots, wondering if he could ask for those as well. Taking in the stranger’s steely green gaze, he decided not to press his fortune. “The cloak you wear.”

  The expression on Traed’s face might have been called deadly amusement. Anyone who knew Traed knew that this expression meant trouble brewing.

  When the handsome Aviaran did not verbally respond, the merchant foolishly added, “And your boots.”

  A muscle ticked in the firm Aviaran jaw. “I will give you one clarified stone.”

  The merchant scoffed. “One stone!”

  “And…”

  The merchant’s ears picked up. “And what?”

  “This.” The light saber appeared at his throat so quickly that the merchant did not even see it clear the Aviaran’s waistband. He swallowed nervously. Once released from the small black box that served as its hilt, the light blade, or light saber as it is sometimes called, was a lethal weapon.

  “Do you accept my terms?” the jade-eyed man murmured in a chillingly low tone.

  “Y-yes, I accept!”

  “Wise decision.” He retracted the blade, returning it to his waist. “Speak.”

  “He took the second Tunnel point—it is five days’ journey on foot from here; although the Familiar made it in two.”

  “He took a shorter route?”

  “There is no shorter route; the deadly valdt lies between the valleys and cannot be crossed.” The merchant stroked his chin. “It is a mystery to us how he did it.”

  It was no mystery to Traed; Gian Ren was extremely resourceful. If there was a way, Guardian of the Mist would find it. His acumen was well-known in the Alliance. “I need to get there as quickly as possible. How would I go about doing that?”

  The other man came forward. “A safir beast can shorten the time of your journey somewhat.”

  Traed raised an eyebrow. “And where would I get such a beast?”

  The man bounced forward on the pads of his feet. “I happen to have one for hire, if it suits you.”

  “How much?”

  “Five clarified stones.”

  Traed tossed him three. The merchant beamed. “Come with me! Perhaps you are hungry? I have many fine supplies fit for a long journey such as yours.”

  Traed shook his head as he followed the man. It never changed. He only hoped his journey to Gian would be completed quickly.

  There was no telling what tortures the Familiar was suffering at the moment.

  Gian tugged Jenise down next to him so they faced each other, as they knelt on the floor of the cave.

  His muscular arm encircled her waist, bringing their upper bodies together. His hand threaded through her long hair, sinking into the mass, entangling it about his fingers.

  “I was afraid for you,” she admitted shakily, still not over the worry she had felt when she realized he might not be able to make the transformation.

  His green/gold eyes captured hers. He stared intently at her. “I know.”

  A small sound came from her lips, a mixture of desire and wariness. Her experiences with men—all men—had taught her to be cautious.

  “What else are you afraid of, Creamcat?”

  “Wh-what do you mean?”

  He examined her guarded features. “Why do you fear pleasure?”

  “I—I do not!” She struggled to break his embrace.

  He held her fast. “Do you think it weakens you? Or is it something else?” His fingers splayed against her scalp, forcing her to look at him. To answer him.

&n
bsp; “If you take pleasure, then you belong to that which gives it to you. When you belong to something, then you are owned.” She lifted her chin, almost daring him to refute her.

  Gian easily accepted her challenge. “No, taja, if you give pleasure and receive pleasure, then you share the pleasure, and when you come together, the union sets you free.”

  “You say that because you are a Familiar and Familiars seek only pleasure.”

  His thumb played with her bottom lip. “Pleasure is our nature, not our goal.”

  The lovely aqua eyes reflected turmoil. He was reaching her, he knew.

  But it would be a slow process.

  She said she was afraid for him, which was true, but she was also afraid of him. Of the sensual power he had over her.

  She had no idea of the levels of complexity going on here, he acknowledged. It was a new experience for any Familiar, he supposed; for a Familiar woman would be leading the pattern by now.

  It mattered not.

  He was more than happy to lead both the tone and pace himself.

  Guardian of the Mist had discovered he had a partiality for difficult creamcats.

  He was also discovering a lot of other things about himself that he had not known before. For one, he was becoming dependent upon her touch. For a man who was a most independent Familiar, it was a new experience indeed.

  In any event, he did not ponder the outcome. Such was not his nature. Jenise would come to him gradually but completely. His lips brushed hers; the tip of his tongue giving the satiny surface a soft lick.

  Lifting his mouth from hers, he stopped a hairsbreadth from the lips he had just moistened to let her feel his breath on her. The hot, light puffs of air blew over her in a tantalizing spice-dream.

  She closed her eyes as his scent sensitized her for him.

  Then he pressed his mouth to hers. A firm placement which stated who he was and what he was about to do. Gian was a thorough lover whose sexual knowledge was part instinct, part experience, and part Gian Ren. The uniqueness of the Familiar people transcended to the individual; each Familiar brought his own individuality to the experience he delivered. It was another factor that made them prized on so many worlds.

  Unaware of the meaning behind his motions, Jenise returned his kiss, craving the feel of him, the taste of him. Smoky krinang spice covered her as he delved inside with a wicked thrust of his tongue. His movements, though simple, were surely art just the same.

  His fingers splayed on the back of her scalp as he took her mouth. A flood of wanting assailed her along with the evocative taste and touch of the Familiar male.

  As his fingers massaged her scalp, his mouth skimmed over her jawline to the edge of her ear. Fiery exhalation feathered the folds. She trembled anew. The hot mouth solidly pressed on the skin of her neck, drawing on the susceptible spot just under her ear.

  The peaks of her breasts hardened.

  Gian pulled her up tighter to him. He rubbed the firm, pointed tips along the skin of his chest. The sliding abrasion made her shiver.

  In response his manhood skimmed her nether curls in a light passing.

  Jenise moaned from the exquisite tracing. Unbidden, her hands gripped his wide shoulders, the tips of her fingers making small indentations.

  The palm of his hand pressed against a protruding nipple, rotating it around the center. His skilled teasing action heightened the combined feeling of satin lips drawing on her throat and male teeth biting softly.

  “Do you know me, Jenise?” he whispered against her moistened skin.

  Who could know a cat? Quivering from his expert love-touches, she moaned, “I know you somewhat, Gian.”

  She was surprised at how true that was—she did know much of him. The life-threatening events they had shared together had formed a certain bond between them. She knew his strength, his steadfastness, his dependability, his pride, his playfulness, and his tendency to take control. But in other ways, the man was a complex puzzle.

  She lifted his stunning face between her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes. “Do you know me, Gian?”

  His lids lowered as his gaze fixed on her lips. The lips he had licked. “What do you think?”

  She kissed him fast, taking him by surprise.

  There was a new depth to the exchange. Gian held her close, a wild passion building inside him.

  They were both becoming hot and damp and they both moaned aloud.

  His hands cupped the backs of her thighs, bringing her flush against his desire. Boldly, he moved her onto him while he kneaded her firm buttocks.

  Jenise couldn’t catch her breath.

  White teeth captured the jutting tip of her breast. He suckled vigorously as he observed her watching him; his full regard focused upon her. It was too much. Her eyes fluttered shut; a sound of raw need was ripped from her.

  The intense utterance of desire reverberated through Gian. In a graceful action, he lowered her to the stone floor of the cavern, immediately coming atop her.

  “Let me know if this is too hard for you,” he drawled huskily.

  Her aqua eyes popped open. “What?”

  He realized what he had just said. A grin spread across his perfect features. “I meant the stone”—his grin got wider—“floor.”

  Jenise snorted. He had a teasing sense of humor and it showed at the oddest times. Her arm went around his strong neck, tugging him down to her.

  “You will be the first to know if it is too hard,” she shot back.

  He chuckled against her lips.

  And stroked into her.

  The way he had intended from the very first. A long, penetrating thrust.

  She was still narrow from the newness of the experience. Her inner muscles clamped tightly on him.

  With fluid agility, he immediately changed her angle by bringing her legs down from around his hips, positioning them straight under him. He gripped her thighs close together as he remained snug within her.

  “Lie like this, taja.” He spoke soothingly into her ear. “It will lessen the discomfort of the deep stroking.”

  Jenise nodded against his cheek.

  He showed her what he meant with a swift, delving thrust. It felt tight, but he was right. He was able to thrust deeper without it bothering her. Much deeper.

  Both their breathing accelerated wildly. Even so, Jenise would not let him forget his promise to her. “Remember, Gian Ren, not too much pleasure.”

  He smiled against her throat. “Never, taja.” So he began to pulse inside her with gentle movements. She wrapped him in her embrace, kissing the hollow of his shoulder.

  He tossed his hair back. Then he flexed carefully inside her. Jenise jumped at the exquisite sensation.

  “Is it too much?” he asked sweetly.

  “No,” she gasped on a moan.

  A small dimple popped into his cheek. “What about this…?” He rotated his hips, pressing more fully inside.

  That was when Jenise knew he intended to toy with her. She eyed the felinelike man warily.

  “Hmm?” He rested his chin on her chest and smiled like a cat. He flexed again.

  It was getting harder for her to catch her breath. Tiny pulses were twitching through her. “N-no.”

  A completely innocent look crossed his exotic features. The virtuous expression was not an easy accomplishment for one such as Gian.

  Jenise knew she was in trouble.

  He winked lazily at her.

  His long gilded hair swung forward and he murmured throatily into her mouth, “How about this, then, taja?”

  Withdrawing partway, he captured her earlobe with a sexy little tug and slid into her as far as he could go.

  “Gian!”

  He pulled her hips up sharply as he bore down a little more. “Mmm?” He palpitated from that hidden place inside.

  “Ohh!” Jenise came apart, her nails biting into his flesh as the tremors took her.

  He liked the scratching. A low growl resonated from his chest. Holding her immo
bile, he gave her another quick peak by grinding hard against her dampness.

  “Please!”

  And again by waiting for just the right moment in her contractions to rotate and thrust. Reaching an entirely new depth.

  The sensation was even too much for him. Jenise was still calling out her satisfaction as he achieved his own peak, a fast, powerful release.

  Sitting up dazedly, Jenise placed a hand on her forehead. “I—I think that was just enough.”

  Guardian of the Mist roared with laughter. His green/ gold eyes sparkled. “I am known for the strength of my word.”

  A Familiar’s subtlety could be interpreted in so many ways.

  “We should try to get some rest now.” Gian grinned wickedly at her, showcasing white teeth and that sensual lower lip of his.

  He had made love to her three times already with nary a pause in between. There was no doubt in Jenise’s mind that the Familiar could keep on going. Were all men like this? She was exhausted!

  Jenise stared at that masculine lip, remembering its velvety touch. What was happening to her? One moment she had been admiring him, the next, they were…

  Her brow furrowed. Despite the fact that she enjoyed their loveplay, she was not sure they should be getting this close. Soon they would be forced to go their separate ways. Surely their intimacy would make the parting that much harder.

  Gian watched her, highly amused. She was beginning to awaken for him. It was only right that he add to her confusion. He smiled slyly. “However,” he tantalized her, “if you prefer to explore—”

  “I’ll sleep over here! On this side of the fire,” she stated firmly.

  “Think you I would allow that after what we have shared?”

  She raised her chin. “It is not your decision, Gian.”

  “Why would you not want to sleep here where I can keep you warm all night? Where I can hold you and protect you?” He got up and came towards her. “Where I can sleep easier knowing you are close and in my embrace?” He picked her up in his arms and carried her back to his side of the fire.

  “You will not let me stay on the other side, will you?”

  “No.” He lay down with her and covered them both with her cloak.

  Jenise turned in the circle of his arms until she faced the rock wall, away from him. “You are difficult, Gian.”