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Courtesans and Lovers (The Space Courtesans Saga Book 2) Page 2
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My head swam with the heady sensations of what his thumb did to me. His fingers as they dipped and swirled in the pool of my heat. “I want it, Jace.”
“No.” He stilled his hand and drew away from my opening. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
What I wanted was to cry out in frustration as the crude word sent a ripple of pleasure through me every time he said it – but I’d never reveal that to him. I reached to force his hand back to its glorious ministrations. But his strength bested mine.
“Please,” I rasped in thready need.
Jace pressed me harder against the bedpost. Deeper into the silk curtains of the canopy. His stilled hand gripped the inside of my thigh and squeezed, sending a rush of liquid pleasure to my yearning sheath at the pinch.
“Say it, Dahlia.” He raked his teeth along my jawline up to my ear, sending blissful agony careening down my spine. “Say it… say fuck me, Jace.”
I couldn’t. I’d already left behind so many of the Courtesan Court rules. I refused to descend into crudities to describe the sacred acts of my station – no matter how desperate I was for Jace to fill me.
I pressed my cheek against his and gripped the bedpost behind me. “Please, Jace, join…”
“No,” he commanded as his fingers slid into me again and stroked harder this time. Faster. “Say fuck me hard and fast.”
Fingers worked their magic and my slickness increased with the frenzy of his pace. Our breathing intensified and mingled together as he pressed his forehead to mine. Gazes locked. He urged me to utter the words again and again. Still I refused, knowing my training was the only thing that provided me with the willpower Jace lacked.
I never doubted I’d win the battle – no matter how my thighs quivered.
Emerald eyes shone bright as jewels as his stare bored into mine. Tightness around his eyes and that full mouth were the first signs of his coming defeat. Then the groan accompanied by hooded lids as he neared the limits of his endurance.
“Someday I’ll get you to say it,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “But now I’m going to fuck your pussy hard and fast…right here against this bedpost.”
“You can’t,” I regretfully cried. “We’ll tear the draping.”
That only deterred him for a moment. “Fuck the drapes. I’ll fix those too.”
With a frustrated growl, he hitched my other leg around his waist and shoved me higher into the canopy. I grasped the carved wood above my head and held on for dear life. I hadn’t even realized when he’d unclasped the dress to leave it bunched around my hips until the warmth of his mouth clamped down and pebbled my nipple with his laving tongue before scraping his teeth across it.
The orgasm hit me with the force of a gravity-defying booster thrust. My cry shattered the silence the moment his thick, glorious cock filled my sheath. The force of his pistoning held me in place against the bedpost when I couldn’t hang on any longer. I spilled over the edge again and again as the furious pace of his hardened length pummeled in and out. Over and over.
No ceremony. No finesse. Just unrefined sex in all of its animalistic fury – and I gave myself over to raw instinct.
Without thinking, I bit down on his shoulder to stifle a scream as yet another orgasm tipped me over the edge.
“Shit!”
The bite triggered his outcry a split second before his orgasm flooded me with the warmth of his cum. Deep, quick thrusts finished him off as my sheath greedily milked every last drop of his seed. Gradually we sagged against one another, drenched in sweat and cum. My body ached but in so many delicious ways.
“And that, Dahlia,” Jace breathed with a sigh, “is what a good fuck is all about.”
And no matter how much I didn’t want to, I had to agree.
Chapter Three
Jace and I collapsed together among a tangle of silk bedding, breathing heavily from the intensity of our joining. The musky scents of our post-coital bodies lingered in the confines of my richly appointed ceremonial chamber where I entertained my clients.
Those of the Courtesan Court trained and entertained in the House on Andurea, leaving only to attend and service the nobles and those of the higher class once every four cycles at the Galactic Games. I’d spent most of my life on that lovely and tranquil garden planet, learning about and luxuriating in every imaginable indulgence.
I’d been draped in silks by every one of my appreciative clients. Decorated with all form of jewels ever discovered throughout the galaxy. Drenched in the dew of joining with the highest levels of power and prestige. I’d sat at the very pinnacle of desire in the Courtesan House, commanding the peak payments for my services.
Until him. Until I broke the most important rule drilled into every courtesan from day one.
I fell in love.
When His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince Irik offered for my hand in marriage, I’d had no choice but to flee the Court, the House, and every friend I’d ever known – all for the sake of a kingdom.
Or that’s what I’d told myself. I was convinced that a bit of time and distance would tame Irik’s foolish desire to claim me as his wife. However, our run-in on Port Flint a few weeks ago proved otherwise. Even after three cycles, his ardor and devotion hadn’t faded.
Unfortunately neither had mine.
But my resolve was still firm. After all, the Galactic Council would never stand for a courtesan as their queen.
And after Irik whisked away to attend to his father’s failing health, and with a possible plot against the royal family, I wasn’t about to test my theory. Neither sooner nor later – no matter how desperate I’d become.
When I’d left Andurea, my accounts were fat with credits and my closets filled with more than enough jewels and silks to clothe me for a lifetime, even after I’d purchased my spaceship and appointed my new sacred sanctuary. I’d just never imagined how expensive everything was out here on the Rim of the galaxy – and how easily I’d been duped by the rats who’d wiped out every last credit to my name, leaving me to limp into Port Flint willing to do almost anything to get my ship back into navigable and livable shape.
However, in all my desperation and with the passing of cycles as a courtesan, I’d never considered taking a lover – until Jace.
I’d spent the last few weeks trying to convince myself that I’d only brought him aboard for his expertise as a mech tech, even though he’d also tried to convince me he could fly the thing too and take some of the data overload off of the AI. I’d even convinced myself that Jace might come in handy as a bit of muscle – protection from the unscrupulous types I’d encountered far too many times out here near the Rim.
The truth, I had gradually come to realize, was that in some ways Jace reminded me of my prince. Those eyes that sparkled like Irik’s. That tall, strong physique. But most of all, I had to admit that it was his long, thick cock that filled and brought me to the brink like only Irik had that convinced me not to let this one go.
Not that I was in love with Jace. Sometimes I barely tolerated him. As a full-fledged courtesan, I was unused to cavorting with the lower classes. The House had been created to service the royal family, and then was extended to the nobles. If the story Councilor Grode had shared with me was to be believed, the Courtesan Court’s primary purpose when formed was to help uncover plots against our galactic rulers.
So associating with someone from the lower classes like Jace – much less joining with him – was virtually unheard of among courtesans. Then again, I was also the first courtesan to take my services among the stars, so joining with someone like my mech tech simply broke yet more new ground.
Yes, he was frustrating at times. Irritatingly handsome too – and knew it by his cocky demeanor. But he’d proven himself quite adept around the ship and found ways to boost our speed without further taxing BIP’s resources, even though he kept taxing my water reserves. And my patience.
But we still had a long way to go before I was willing to be seen in noble social circles wi
th him as my formal escort, because the words that sometimes flowed from his lips continued to expose the gutter he’d grown up in.
“I think that was our best fuck yet.” Jace sighed as he flopped against the pillow. “Did you feel how wet your pussy was? It was like you were coated with a whole liter of slicks.” He turned his head to stare at me beside him. “Which means you liked it rough…a lot.”
Definitely not ready for my social circles. I rolled my eyes before I squirmed away and climbed from the bed to search out my dress from among the ceremonial stations scattered around the sanctuary. The cleansing station? No. Oils? Not there. The tea ceremony?
Ah. The lavender silk stood out where he’d tossed it among the muss of red velvet cushions. Jace rolled to his side and hiked himself up on an elbow to watch as I slid into the dress and secured the quick-release clasp at the shoulder.
“What’d I say?”
“Nothing, Jace,” I returned with a sigh of my own as I gathered up the pillows and cushions to chem steam them before our arrival on Lyandra. “Nothing I haven’t mentioned at least a hundred times before. Now get dressed and bring those sheets.”
I took off down the passageway before Jace could tempt me further like he always did. Lyandra neared and I needed time to freshen up the sanctuary for intimacies with a paying client. It’d probably take every last credit I’d make just to pay for a full water uptake to resupply the ship’s reserves. At this rate, I’d never get ahead.
But I looked forward to seeing a dear friend again, someone who could update me on more interesting happenings in more populated areas of the galaxy. Ambassador Dregas had only recently been reassigned to Lyandra, and after our run-in on Port Flint I had the distinct impression there was more to the story of what brought her out this far. Much more.
After inserting the cushions in the steamer, and in an effort to avoid any further close confines with the mech tech, I entered my personal pod to luxuriate in a steam shower of my own. The warm moisture coated my skin then finished off with a fine mist of select oils to ensure my body was soft, supple, and smelling sweet.
“BIP?” I called to the AI while sorting through my wardrobe.
“Yes, Dahlia,” the disembodied feminine voice responded.
“What is the time parameter for arrival on Lyandra?”
“Our approximate arrival time on the Rim planet of Lyandra is two hours and twelve minutes.”
Time was tight. I should’ve never allowed Jace to tempt me into another round of joining when we were so close to our destination. I pinned up wet strands then slid open my chamber door and stared down both directions of the empty passageway.
“Jace!” My ship had already reverberated with the mech tech’s name more times today than I wanted to count.
The clomp of booted feet preceded the rounding of the corner from the direction of my sanctuary. He stopped with a lopsided – and interested – grin. “Does this mean we’re implementing the no-clothes proposal on the ship?”
I didn’t even bother to glance down at my naked form, glistening with the thin mist of oils that slowly soaked into my skin. “We’re closer to Lyandra than I realized. I need you to put down fresh sheets for the sanctuary, and then pull the cushions from the chem steamer.”
“Already done.”
That stopped me. “Really?”
“Figured I’d make myself useful since I was banned from your bowels for now.” The grin widened into a mischievous and heart-stopping smile that lit up his eyes as he sauntered closer.
“Well…thank you for that.” He traced a clean fingertip up and down my arm before feathering a nipple to a diamond point. I shivered at his touch. “You…you might want to give some attention to your personal pod before our arrival too. The stench in there is almost indescribable.”
He leaned in closer. “I call it eau de fuck musk.”
I swallowed the knot in my throat and backed away a step into my pod. Make that two in order to give relief to my nipple. “Whatever you call it, I don’t want it impacting the rest of the ship and disturbing my client. Give those dirty clothes a thorough chem steam or dump them in the incineration chute. Then make sure and vent the ship the moment we make atmo.”
With a hand on either side of my open doorway, Jace leaned ever closer to peck my lips. “Aye-aye, Captain.”
I pressed my door closed the moment he pulled clear of the sliding mechanism, safe from his wandering hands that sent my already thundering pulse pounding.
For the moment anyway.
Chapter Four
“What are you doing there?”
In full courtesan regalia not fit for the chill of Lyandra’s temperatures, I entered the bridge after atmospheric entry to find Jace at the pilot’s console, tapping buttons and tugging on the flight stick like it was his cock. He appeared only too happy to get it off.
“I’m setting up for a landing,” he returned without a glance my way.
“BIP!” I thundered to the AI. “Shut down manual and take over auto controls…and get us a landing pad assignment.”
“But I already got us a landing pad assignment.”
“Auto controls engaged,” BIP responded. “Sorry, Programmer Jace, but I must lock you out of manual controls.”
“Sorry?” I stared up in disbelief at the metalloid plated ceiling as if BIP hovered in corporeal form above me. “What is this sorry business, BIP?”
“Programmer Jace has done an excellent job since he’s come aboard, clearing out my digital cobwebs, so to speak, and allowing my systems to process at more optimal levels.” Jace spun the pilot’s seat toward me with a self-satisfied smirk as the AI continued singing his praises. “We’ve gotten to know each other quite well as his deft fingers have explored my depths.”
My vision narrowed toward the mech tech, knowing full well how expertly those fingers navigated the dips and swells of depths that didn’t involve metalloid, wire, buttons or joysticks.
I resisted crossing my arms to avoid creasing the golden gossamer robe I wore over the only long-sleeved dress I owned. “Well?”
Jace leaned back in the chair, still wearing that ridiculous grin. “I just wanted to test her out. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the chance to pilot a craft into atmo.”
“Which explains all the jostling and is exactly why I don’t want you at the controls. I don’t care how good of a pilot you think you are, you’re not going to practice with my ship.” I gestured for him to get out of the chair. “I can’t afford the credits it would take to replace her.”
Ignoring me, he slid the chair around to stare out through the large viewing display and patted his knee. “Then come and sit with me so we can watch the landing together. It’s always a rush to watch buildings and crafts whiz by off our wings.”
I chanced a glance at the distant pinnacles rising above the swirl of clouds and careening closer with every second, then gripped the console to steady the nausea that churned through my stomach. I turned my back to the dizzying display. “I think I’d rather wait out in the passageway…where it’s cooler.”
Jace leaned forward. “Don’t tell me you don’t like watching atmospheric entry.”
“Fine. I won’t tell you.” I stalked from the bridge as best as my stomach allowed, then swayed to lean against the cool metalloid walls in the dim corridor with a sigh.
Jace’s emerald-green gaze peeked through the doorway as I fought to regain control of my stomach. “Who buys a spaceship, voyages out to the Rim planets, and doesn’t like flying?”
“It’s not so much the flying,” I countered. “It’s the taking off and landing that I find…less than pleasant.”
He leaned in closer, his clean, musky scent intoxicating and enticing. Arousing. Until it reached my stomach.
“I’ll bet I can take your mind off it all.”
“Yes, you could.” My hand pressed against his chest to push away from him. “But I’m about to meet up with a high-ranking official in the Galactic Empire, who a
lso happens to be a paying client, by the way. It would be imprudent of me to reek of you when welcoming a well-respected individual into my sacred sanctuary…especially one who values privacy and discretion.”
“Dahlia,” BIP interrupted, “we are being redirected with an escort to a landing pad at the official ambassadorial residence.”
“Thank you, BIP. Initiate landing protocols for the assigned location.”
“Landing protocols initiated for Lyandra Tower Two, pad two-twelve.”
Jace’s brows rose. “Official ambassadorial residence?”
“Yes.” I kept my response clipped to avoid revealing too much, as he was apt to make me do.
“Can I hide behind the sanctuary curtains and watch?”
“No.” That was the only response his impertinence deserved. “Now the moment we land, go out the ship’s door and to your left to ride the levitator down,” I directed as I made my way toward the former cargo bay. “You won’t be allowed on the ship again while the ambassador is aboard.”
Jace shrugged into a jacket entirely too thin for the atmosphere he’d encounter when the door opened. “How long do I wait?”
“If the past is any indication, the ambassador will remain with me through the night.”
“And what am I supposed to do all night long around here?”
My brow arched as I glanced over my shoulder. “I’m sure an enterprising young man such as yourself can find entertainments and distractions most anywhere.”
A slow grin lifted the corners of his lips. “I suppose that’s true.” He leaned in to feather a whisper across my ear. “But not nearly as much fun as fucking with you.”
“And I don’t mean those kinds of entertainments,” I called after his retreating form. “I’ll cut you off if you bring back a disease…or a parasite!”
His laugh followed all the way along the passage as I skirted away and into the sanctuary. I could still hear him even after closing and securing the cargo door. I took a deep breath to calm my thundering pulse. Impudent man. Getting me all riled up even as I prepared to welcome my client onto the ship.