She nipped the side of Soral’s throat and whispered, “When do I get to see these neck ridges come out?”
Soral chuckled. “You’ll have to work a little harder. They won’t surface until I’m much more aroused.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have said that. I’m very goal-oriented.”
She pursued that goal with single-minded determination. Soon she had Soral stripped to the waist, exposing several delicious ridges and lovingly exploring each one with tongue and teeth. Her favorites so far were the pelvic ridges, which vanished beneath Soral’s waistband and hinted at delights yet unseen.
But despite Soral’s obvious and vocal appreciation of her efforts, the neck ridges remained submerged. Telorana was beginning to feel inadequate. She pulled away from a perfect nipple, sucked the chest ridge just above it, and then tugged at an earlobe.
“If you can’t Share with me,” she murmured, “what about projection?”
Soral went stiff, then pushed her away. “You have no idea what you’re saying.”
“I think I do,” Telorana began, but then noticed the distress in Soral’s eyes. “Er, maybe not? What’s so awful about it? Can’t you just—”
“It’s a crime,” Soral snapped. “Especially with someone like you. You have no protections. It would be like empathically forcing a child.”
Well, that was a bit offensive. “I’m not a child. And I’m not asking you to force me, just to project your own feelings on me. I want to feel them, too. Besides, it’s not a crime if I consent, isn’t that right?”
Soral stared at her. “You would consent to me controlling your mind.”
“I trust you.”
“You’ve known me for less than two moons!”
“I know you risked your life to save my crewmates. I would trust you with my life, so why not my mind?”
“Great Mother,” Soral whispered. “You do trust me that much. That is…”
When she didn’t seem capable of finishing, Telorana reached out for her hand and intertwined their fingers. Looking into her nearly black eyes, she said deliberately, “I consent.”
Soral sucked in a breath, her eyes wide. Then a slow, dark smile edged onto her face.
A surge of heat went through Telorana’s body. Startled, she released their hands and stepped back.
Her mind was bombarded with thoughts of what she wanted to do to Soral, and none of them were gentle. She saw herself taking Soral in every way imaginable, a nonstop stream of erotic images that made her face hot and her hands tremble. This wasn’t desire. It was unadulterated lust, and she was shaking with the effort of controlling it. Never in her life had she felt so animalistic, not even when she took that illegal aphrodisiac on Erebderis Station. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything that might break the tenuous hold she had on herself.
In the tiny part of her mind that was still rational, she appreciated the irony that she could trust Soral but not herself.
Soral took a step closer, and Telorana closed her eyes. She couldn’t look at her right now, with her naked torso and perfect breasts and oh, those ridges—
“Telorana.”
“I can’t.” She almost whimpered from the effort.
“Don’t be afraid of what you’re thinking.” Soral’s voice was right next to her ear. “It’s coming from me. Telorana—I consent.”
Her eyes snapped open. With a growl, she slammed into Soral, knocking her back against the wall. Seizing her head, she kissed her possessively, then ripped her trouser fastenings apart.
Soral grabbed her, whirled them around, and shoved her against the wall so hard that it knocked most of the air out of her lungs. Before she could recover, Soral’s hand was in her pants, sliding through a veritable ocean of wetness.
Neither woman would give up her dominance, and they battled from one end of the room to the other. The first round went to Soral, who bent Telorana over the back of a chair and held her there with that damnable Alsean strength while she took her from behind. “Fahla, you’re so smooth,” she gasped as her fingers plunged.
As soon as Telorana recovered, she took Soral up against the wall. She thought the top of her head might blow off when she discovered that Soral had ridges inside as well.
Three orgasms later, she had burned off enough of that raging need to revert to less aggressive lovemaking. They spent the rest of the day exploring each other’s bodies, learning their differences and similarities, careening from clinical observations to mind-blowing sensations and often laughing in between. It was the most incredible, intimate, glorious sex she’d ever had.
When they finally flopped onto their backs, panting from their latest efforts, she let out an exhausted groan. “No more, please. You Alseans are made differently, but my body can’t take any more. I need food and sleep.”
Soral laughed. “No one is forcing you. You could have stopped any time if your poor little Gaian body was so taxed.”
“How could I stop when you were projecting?”
Soral looked at her with a furrowed brow. “You thought I was projecting?”
“Well…yes. Weren’t you? You said those thoughts were coming from you.”
“When we started. Projection takes an immense amount of concentration. I let go right after you threw me against the wall.”
Telorana propped herself up on her elbows. “That was me?” she squeaked.
“That was all you. I just released it.”
“Holy Seeders. I didn’t know I had that in me.”
Soral brushed a hand along her cheek. “You Gaians are an odd race. So out of touch with your own wants.”
“I can’t argue that.” Telorana caught her hand and pressed a kiss against it. “I wonder what other wants I have that I don’t know about?”
Soral’s slow smile lit up her face. “We have twelve days to find out.”
Note from Fletcher DeLancey
“Projection” is an unseen interlude near the end of The Caphenon, a novel that begins with the crash of a giant spaceship on a planet whose inhabitants had no idea there was other intelligent life in the universe. The crew of that ship had saved the planet from invasion, but it was only a temporary reprieve.
The Caphenon is about what happens when good people face hard choices, friends find themselves on opposite sides of conflict, and politics interferes with everything. At its heart, it is the journey of three powerful women who are swept up in events that put an entire civilization at risk.
The Caphenon is the first book in the Chronicles of Alsea, an ongoing saga based around the planet Alsea and its unique inhabitants.
To learn more about the Chronicles of Alsea, the universe it’s placed in, and the upcoming books, check out www.chroniclesofalsea.com.
THE STORY DOESN’T HAVE TO END ON THE LAST PAGE
Take it with you—on a shirt, a phone case, a mug and so much more. Choose your caste, or give a caste gift to a friend. That way, Alsea will always be there.
http://www.cafepress.com/chroniclesofalsea
About Fletcher DeLancey
Fletcher DeLancey spent her early career as a science educator, which was the perfect combination of her two great loves: language and science. These days she combines them while writing science fiction.
She is an Oregon expatriate who left her beloved state when she met a Portuguese woman and had to choose between home and heart. She chose heart. Now she lives with her wife and son in the beautiful sunny Algarve, where she writes full-time, teaches Pilates, tries to learn the local birds and plants, and samples every regional Portuguese dish she can get her hands on. (There are many. It’s going to take a while.)
She is best known for her geeky romance Mac vs. PC and her science fiction series, Chronicles of Alsea. Currently, she is working on the next books in the Chronicles of Alsea and as an editor for Ylva Publishing.
/> CONNECT WITH FLETCHER:
Website: www.chroniclesofalsea.com
Blog: www.chroniclesofalsea.com/blog/
Facebook: www.facebook.com/fletcher.delancey
Twitter: @alseaauthor
E-Mail:
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www.ylva-publishing.com
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Chronicles of Alsea – Book #4
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Captain Ekatya Serrado’s fateful decision before the Battle of Alsea has made her both a hero and a renegade. The Protectorate now requires her to prove her loyalty, first as a desk-bound spy and then on a dangerous mission. With her every move weighed by suspicion and the price of failure too high to bear, she must find new allies and solve a mystery, all while grappling with the unexpected consequences of her tyree bond.
Vellmar the Blade
© 2016 by Fletcher DeLancey
ISBN (mobi): 978-3-95533-715-5
ISBN (epub): 978-3-95533-716-2
Also available as paperback.
Published by Ylva Publishing, legal entity of Ylva Verlag, e.Kfr.
Ylva Verlag, e.Kfr.
Owner: Astrid Ohletz
Am Kirschgarten 2
65830 Kriftel
Germany
www.ylva-publishing.com
First edition: 2016
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Credits
Edited by Sandra Gerth
Proofread by Cheri Fuller
Cover Design & Print Layout by Streetlight Graphics
Fletcher DeLancey, Vellmar the Blade
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