Chapter 15

She woke as he worked his way into her, her eyes slow to focus. He crooned to her, encouraging her body to prepare for him, and licked her cheek, to let her know that he wasn t angry with her as he felt her anxiety peak through the Bond. He adjusted against her until the oil and her natural lubrication eased his way and brought his chest against her so that she could feel as well as hear his mating croon. He put his mouth to hers, using the courting technique of her people that she called a kiss to encourage a response from her as her emotions through the bond transitioned from confusion and anxiety into frustration and pleasure. Frustration in her pleasure, he noted with amusement as he ground himself against the nerve cluster he had pierced and felt the flare of her response light up the bond, delivering him a dopamine hit. His croon deepened into a growl, and he basked in the warmth that flooded her. Oh, yes, he thought as his eyes lowered to half mast, and he nuzzled under her chin stroking his tongue over her skin, his croon settling into rhythm, he was very much enjoying this bond. He dragged her hips up his thighs so that each thrust of his hips rubbed him against her cervix and her back arched as she pushed herself against him, seeking the release of her body. He placed the heel of his hand against her nerve cluster as he bucked his hips into her, throwing his head back as he rode the waves of their combined pleasure, sweat beading over him, and his breath stolen from his lungs so that his croon was broken by gasps and growls. Her orgasm broke over them both, and he roared as he lost control of himself, spilling so hard into her that he collapsed over her heavily, the release of oxytocin, vasopressin, and prolactin pressing him into somnolence. In a half-drowse, he explored the Bond lazily, testing its edges with satisfaction, observing the shifts in his mate s moods as she passed through her own somnolence into active thought, the transition from a warm contented pink to a sharp white, shards of blue negative crossing through. What was she thinking about in the post coital peace? Not soft, warm, pink thoughts, but cold blue ones, which was very interesting. It was evidence that although he had managed to forge enough of a Bond between them that he could share her senses and emotions, it was tenuous and as delicate as the woman who lay beneath him. Could she feel him back? "Do you feel me?" He was intrigued enough to ask the question in her language. She paused, her thoughts flashing through shades of green and blue. "You are lying on top of me," she said cautiously. "And you are inside of me." "Not physically." He wondered if her people possessed the ability to share the Bond experience, or if it was one sided. There were advantages and disadvantages to both options. Having access to her moods through the Bond whilst retaining his own in privacy would give him more control over her, but, on the other hand, delivering a lashing of anger through the Bond could be an interesting way to curtail behaviour he disapproved of. "If you use your instincts, can you feel me inside?" He used his finger against the side of her head to indicate the direction she should look. She grew very still, and the Bond went white, to a point that it flashed as brightly gold as the sun above the planet, causing him a sharp spike of pain, a mental flinch away from something hot, and he lifted onto his elbow to meet her eyes, surprised: "What did you do?" "What have you done?" She responded alarmed. The Bond went back to green, an acid green that accompanied her scent of fear. "It is the Bond," he replied, and crooned to soothe her, watching the bond flood pink with fascination. "It is something shared between mated dominant and submissive. Do not fear it." "What does it do?" Her fear scent sharpened, and the green of the Bond grew an intriguing array of shades, from almost black to an aqua that seemed to vibrate in pointed spikes of colour. He lowered back over her, not deigning to reply. That was enough information for her, he decided. She could obviously feel the Bond but had not known what it was. If he did not teach her to utilize it, he would have the advantage of maintaining privacy on his emotions, whilst be able to use them against her. The thought pleased him, and his croon reflected his satisfaction, gradually relaxing her, flooding the green with soft pink and white, dulling the darker spikes until they faded out. Her hands rested lightly over his back, her fingers tracing his scars though he did not think she knew she did so, her thoughts elsewhere, returning to white, with pink tones hinted – neutral nudged into contentment by his croon. He began to rock against the swell of his gland, effectively masturbating himself using her, he thought with self-indulgent amusement, in a similar way to the use of a simulacrum, though the sensation was vastly improved over the artificial, non-responsive female forms. He deliberately increased his croon to the modulation his mate seemed to respond to best, to get her to engage, wanting to experience her pleasure through the bond again. Masturbation on two levels, he added to himself, titillated by this use of the Bond and the control his croon had over her reactions. He kissed her again, the strange contact of mouth to mouth that was oddly evocative in its savage baseness, sliding his tongue against hers, and enjoying the warmth of her breath across the sensitive skin around his lips. The softness of her bottom lip invited him to take it between his teeth and stroke his tongue across it. He hummed at the roar of red through the Bond; his little mate liked his mouth on hers. The red continued to burn with increasing brightness, making his heart race, his skin to grow slick in response. He broke off the kiss to drag his tongue over her, wanting to taste the salt of her sweat on his tongue, capturing the pheromones in the hollow of his mouth so it filled his nasal passages, a heady cocktail that had him pulling back against the hold of his gland, instinctively seeking to stroke freely and ravage her. The resistance of his flesh pulled him back under control, his breath panting from him as he wrestled against the beast of his nature. He laughed at his own wildness, reveling in the instincts that he normally only let have free rein during the hunt. Instead of pulling against the hold of his gland, he pushed into it, pressing tightly into the cradle of his mate s legs, forcing her to widen them to accommodate him. The new position increased her pleasure, and he closed his eyes and rocked his head to the side savouring the sensations that flooded through the Bond. His mating croon hit a new resonance, and he felt her response, her body heating and growing slick around him, so that his last thrusts gained movement, before the orgasm crashed over him, pumping his seed into her as she clenched around his swollen gland increasing its toe-curling force. As he rested over her, he did not know which one of them had come first, it had been so close, the Bond blurring the distinction. "What is your name?" She sighed it, the question dragged out of her reluctantly, the Bond blurring with her annoyance at herself for asking it. He contemplated not answering, not wanting to encourage further conversation in her language, or to seem overindulgent, but he was pleased with her for biting him and in doing so opening the Bond, sated from the rutting, and intrigued by her annoyance at herself for asking the question. "Rikash," he replied to see what she would do with the information. "Arken Rikash." "Arken Rikash," she repeated, her lips against the meat of his shoulder. He wondered if he could tempt her into biting him there too. "I am Amelia. Amelia Wistern." "I do not care what your name is," he felt the release of the gland and pulled back from her. "You are here for me to use for release, to breed my offspring from, and nothing else."