Booty Hunter (Harem Station 1)

“No,” I say. “No—”

“Then what’s the matter?” he asks, moving his hips just a little. Slowly now. Carefully.

“I don’t know. It just feels… different.”

“Well, it is a little different this time,” he says. We stare at each other. Still fucking, but not desperate to fuck. Still enjoying it, just not lusting for each other. And I’m still building towards a climax, it’s just not the kind that will shatter a universe.

“Should I stop?” he asks, when I don’t say anything.

But then I recall the cyborg master’s words from earlier about how my light represents my emotions in the moment.

I look down at myself and find I’m still glowing. A soft, yellow-pink glow that blurs the edges of my body with Serpint’s. The glow climbs up his arms and radiates across his back, like he’s channeling it. Like my light is his light. Like we are sharing it.

I notice that my whole body is now humming and thrumming like my clit.

And his is too.

“No,” I whisper. “Don’t stop. This is perfect.”

Because it is.

Yes, it’s different. And no, I’m not going to explode this time.

But that’s OK.

Because this is more than that.

This is a connection.

Just as I think that he lowers himself all the way on top of me and my light washes over his skin like we are the same person.

He leans down to kiss me. First on the nose—which makes us both smile—then on the lips. Our tongues twist together. Gently, this time. Slowly. Taking our time.

We take our time in other ways too. His fingers slowly thread through my hair. No mad grabs or fisting tonight. Our hips rock together in perfect unison.

My light—no, our light—begins to glow brighter. Not the sun. Not a supernova. Not an imploding galaxy or a shattering universe, just us.

We glow as one.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE – SERPINT

I feel Lyra below me, and above me, and inside me. I feel her everywhere. This time our lovemaking is so very different. It’s a twisting of souls, and a blending of minds, and everything seems to be a perfect fit.

Her light flows up from her body and surrounds me like the scent of sweet flowers or the sound of soft music. It flows into me like nectar from ripe fruit and excites every nerve ending in my body until we are vibrating together. A low, inaudible—but still perceptible—quiver that makes us shimmer, and flicker, and twinkle, and glitter in the darkness.

We come.

We do not implode anything.

We do something better.

We merge together. Coalescing into one being. One soul, one mind, one body. Her pleasure becomes my pleasure becomes her pleasure again.

We share ourselves.

She wraps her legs around me, squeezing me with her thighs as she digs her fingernails into my back. Her pussy and ass both contracting on my cocks.

I want to die when we come this time, it feels so good.

“Oh, Lyra,” I say, kissing her soft mouth. “I don’t need an explosion if this is what I get in return.”

She laughs, closing her eyes. Still squeezing me with her pussy and her legs. “I think I still exploded,” she says. “Just in a new way.”

Truth, I decide. Nothing but truth.

“Serpint.” ALCOR’s voice booms through the still air. “It’s time to go. Everyone is on their way up to your quarters. Lyra, you need to tell us what you remember of Bull Station so we have some idea of where Nyleena is.”

She groans. “I still don’t see why I have to stay behind.”

She’s talking to me, not ALCOR. He’s already gone. I could feel his absence the moment he stopped talking. Other things to do besides interrupt our postcoital moment.

I kiss her, then roll off of her, letting my semi-hard cocks slip out. But instead of getting up I tug her up close to my chest. “I told you,” I say. “I can’t lose anyone else. I need to know you’re here. Safe and waiting for me when I get back.”

“What if something happens to you?” she protests. “Then I have to live with that. I can be helpful, Serpint. I’m military. I can fly a ship. I can shoot. I can help you guys. When doesn’t a team need another capable, invested party?”

Her argument is good, I’ll give her that. But I cannot bear the thought of her in danger. I just can’t.

“I’m sorry, Lyra. The answer is no.”

“You’re not really the boss of me, you know.”

“I really kinda am.” I laugh. Then I tug on the collar around her neck to illustrate my point.

She pushes my hand away and says, “That’s not even a real thing. Are you really gonna make me pay my way through servitude just because I was kidnapped and brought here?”

“Yes.” I laugh again. “I really am. At least until I get back.”

“But—”

“Lyra,” I say in my stern, not-fucking-around voice. “I can magnetically bind you to my sex wall if you’re going to be difficult.”