Vanata Song

Excerpt

Kesh was walking slowly, barefoot, his eyes tracking her. Hala was still in his shirt, although he’d like to strip her, would like her naked, would like her on all fours and spread for him, his thoughts entirely filthy. The air was warm. She had her feet in the water, graceful, her hair flashing in the sunlight.

A small jolt would go through him whenever she went too far, but she always returned right past the edge of it, circling back. He was carrying a small collection of shells in his shirt. She’d found them.

Over the last couple of hours, it had gotten bad. They were both over the edge, impaired, their mating instincts fully raised, slipping deep. They were drunk on arousal. There was nothing he could do to stop it, even if he’d wanted to.

She brought him another shell, not speaking, a long seduction, neither of them completely sane right now. She handed it to him, another shy, lingering glance that went through him, her cheeks flushed. Then another glance, her hair moving around her as she danced away from him, back into the surf. He walked, his eyes on her.

Returning to him, she gave him another shell and another wave of her scent, which was strong. Hala was making him crazy. She was drawn to him because she wanted to fuck him, and he really didn’t need the encouragement at this point.

Kesh was trying to ignore the voice that was telling him that her smell said she was ready for mating, instincts that demanded he take her. It was a very real and strong biologic impulse for his species. After she golded, a female vanata could potentially be stolen by another male before she was mated. They were alone here, no other males with access to her, but his body didn’t understand that. His arousal would simply increase until he acted on it.

Hala had been awakened. Whether or not she understood what was happening, however she felt about sex, she was aroused. Kesh could smell her desire whenever she got near him, could smell the perfume of her.

But she was also relaxing with him, trusting him more as she got used to the idea of him, as she listened to the instincts that told her he was safe. He’d promised himself he’d be patient. He wanted to give her as much time as he could.

He got another wave of her scent. It was no coincidence she was upwind. Hala was just as swept up in it, acting on the instincts she had only just learned she had and probably not even fully aware she was doing it.

He turned his head as she caught up, her eyes lighting with interest when he met them. She walked next to him. He put out his hand and she immediately put the shell into it.

“It’s a Rose Murex,” she said, smiling at him, taking his breath.

He smiled back at her, earning another long glance from under those eyelashes, the gold in her eyes shining. It sent a deep sinking through him. Kesh was fighting images in his head, remembering her on that chair, grinding on him as she spread her legs, her tits rising, arching, crying out in pleasure. He realized he was staring at her, her smile fading, but she didn’t break his gaze. She knew. She felt it, and with that look, she acknowledged it between them, unspoken.

For a moment, Kesh didn’t think he was going to be able to pull back from it, a hot surge going through his belly. She turned and walked back toward the sea, his eyes on her as she danced into the water. Then she came back.

She broke into motion, running away a little in front of him and then shifting direction, back toward the water.

His body tensed and he started toward her, Hala unaware. Kesh stopped himself, realizing, his heart pounding. He hadn’t thought of that. It just hadn’t occurred to him that she would choose that for their mating, consciously or not.

Now it was all he could think about. Kesh clenched his teeth. He had to get her back to the beach house. If she started to run—

From a slow walk and out of nowhere, Hala exploded into a mating run, cutting to a position directly in front of him in the drier sand. It slammed through his gut, a compulsion to chase her that crawled through him and that he fought.

He stopped himself again when she reached that limit, his nostrils flaring. She wouldn’t get anywhere, he reminded himself. His property was a solid twenty helos circled on the land sides with high fencing and the military protected the water side. Boats didn’t come here.

His eyes were tracking her, controlling himself again.

He knew Hala didn’t understand, not consciously, why she wanted to run. She wasn’t thinking any more clearly than he was. This was the equivalent of vanata foreplay, the chase culminating in sex. She was flashing her tail at him, making the offer, and he wanted to take her up on it so bad, visions of catching her, of pinning her heat in the sand.

The mating chase had been a staple of his masturbation fantasies all through his youth. He still thought about it when he jerked off, not having any other fantasy material except what had been denied him his whole life. Nothing else really turned him on. But this did. Very much so, this did turn him on.

Kesh felt another jolt and a deep sinking, fighting it. He wouldn’t be able to control himself if he chased her, not a chance. Once he caught her—

Hala looked back at him, her hair moving around her. Their eyes met, and what was in hers was a challenge, her chin lifting. That glance said he couldn’t catch her. Knowingly or not, she did that, and Kesh suddenly didn’t care, not even a little. He was all in.

He dropped the shells onto the sand and was in motion, giving in to it. His body flowed into pursuit, increasing his speed. She was very fast. She was a vanata female.

He was faster.

His instincts were entirely raised, strength flowing through him, tracking her form ahead, his eyes locked on her. He increased his speed.

* * *

Hala’s head was spinning. Kesh had gravity, his scent mixed with the ocean and warm sunlight. She liked how he looked at her, liked his face and his attention and the way he moved, liked the way his body looked. Her nipples were hard and rubbing on the shirt, sending stabs between her leg.

Giving him a shell, she was aware he could smell her, sending a thrill through her, a feeling in her belly that felt like anticipation. But he didn’t do anything, and she got bolder, flirting with him, knowing he wanted her. And then he was looking at her in a way that went through her, her sex twinging sharply, and she felt reckless, and she let him know that she knew, meeting his eyes.

She broke briefly into a run, aware he was behind her, turning back to the water, and it felt so good that she decided to run now, to keep running, freedom singing through her, straight down the beach.

But when she looked back, Kesh was still where she’d left him, looking after her. Her excitement faded. He wasn’t running. He could stay there then. Kesh would never catch her now. Her eyes told him that. His eyes narrowed and her heart flipped over as he dropped the shells onto the sand and sprang into motion after her, graceful.

She faced forward, having forgotten how fast he was, and she didn’t think he’d want to talk to her when he caught her. A jolt went through her belly, making her run faster. She increased her speed, her heels throwing up firm sand.

Then there was only the sound of her feet on the sand, the light patter, the sound of the waves, smelling the ocean, the wind in her face. Her quick steady breathing. She was aware Kesh was behind her, that he was getting closer, between her legs so slippery now, and she went even faster, wanting to outrun him.

But wanting most of all for him to catch her. The thought sent waves through her belly.

Something slammed into her from behind and all her forward motion was gone. Kesh. He twisted and she landed on him as they crashed into the sand. She felt him under her and struggled to get out of his arms, everything suddenly so much more serious, but they were wrapped tightly around her.

He didn’t let go, rolling her onto her back, on top of her, pinning her, his hands going to the collar of the shirt as he sat up. He straddled her and ripped it open, the material parting all the way down. She arched, unable to move him off of her. He was too heavy. She couldn’t breathe.

He stripped it from her shoulders, her arms trapped. She was trying to free herself as his mouth went to her breast. She cried out, his teeth grazing her nipple, a splash of hot pleasure. He was panting as hard as she was and he did the same with the other as she struggled. Then he was sucking and licking her nipple and he bit down, following her struggles, his teeth squeezing on the tip, a sharp and throbbing pleasurable ache.

Hala lost all her breath, clicks in her throat, going limp, her legs opening under him by themselves. She couldn’t move at all, not while he did that, between her legs twinging and pulsing.

He made a deep rumbling sound in his throat and his mouth released her nipple, moving down over her belly and then her thighs. She didn’t realize her arms were free, the sleeves of the shirt slack. She arched again, her legs opening wider.

His mouth was between her legs. She tried to struggle away but his arms came around her thighs, holding her. His tongue licked her passage and she stopped struggling, panting hard, confused, concentrating on how that felt, lost in it.

His tongue dragged against her sex, licking all around it, deep into her and back up. She felt her flesh pulse and she strained, trying to meet his tongue. That felt so good. The pressure went deeper as he began to suck there and she stilled, her head falling back, her eyes closing, going limp.

* * *

Kesh was gone, his heart thundering. He had her now. Hala’s bare pussy was flushed like her nipples, startling between her pale thighs, a secret rose color, her swollen clit under his tongue. The taste of her. Her taste was making him crazy. She was slick already, going straight to his cock, her smell saying she was ready for him, more than ready. Suckling her clit into his mouth, he felt her go limp, all her flight-or-fight disappearing.

He felt a surge of satisfaction, the situation stark for him, simple at this moment. She’d chosen to run and he’d caught her. Hala was his. He was going to fuck her so hard.

Leaving her, he straightened to his knees and then to his feet in one motion. She made a sharp sound of protest when he stopped, her legs spreading wider, her hips squirming. He looked down at her.

Hala’s eyes were heavy, her cheeks full of pink color, contrast to the red in her hair spilling everywhere around her like fire, the pale of her skin. She was moving her round hips with need, her breasts jutting, those fucking nipples. Her mouth was parted, her legs spread for him. He was beyond any thought. He tugged at the buttons of his pants impatiently. He couldn’t move fast enough, his eyes on her pussy.

He saw awareness come into her eyes and her legs closed. She sat up, scrabbling back, her hair falling around her shoulders. His shirt was off her shoulders but still on her arms, her hand going to cover her breasts. She twisted to the side, to her right, her eyes wide, her sweet hip rounded. She put her left hand down on the sand, freezing when he spoke.

“You can run again if you want, Hala,” he said flatly, taking off his pants, his breathing fast. “But if you do, I’ll bring you down and fuck you on your hands and knees.”

She didn’t move, her eyes wide. Her eyes left his face, went to his shoulders and his chest and then traveled down his belly and finally to his cock. Her eyes got big and she shook her head as he dropped to his knees in the sand in front of her.

“No,” she said, scrabbling away.

“Yes, little mate.”

This was going to happen. He grabbed her ankle, and then the other, pulling her straight to him. Hala fell on her back, her breasts jiggling with the movement as he jerked her toward himself. Her hair trailed behind her, her hands going above her head. Her hands came up to brace against his chest. He jerked her legs open, looking down at her cunt, the rose color of it, slick and glistening and naked, a tidy swollen pocket. He moved his hands to her pale thighs, pinning her wide open on the sand.

She didn’t move, her body trembling. He savored the look of her and then bent, moving down, sucking one nipple, and then another, and then down over her sweet belly to put his mouth on the source of that scent again, thrusting his tongue into her passage, needing the taste of her. Whoever he was at other times, whatever was human in him was silent, put away, full vanata male mating lust flowing through him.

He scraped his teeth on her clit and sucked her, her yelp turning to small grunts of pleasure. She was moving against his mouth, building toward climax, her clit a hard slippery pulsing nub under his tongue. She spasmed, close.

When he felt her strain, her little cunt swelling open, he left her, sliding up her body, the taste of her on his tongue, and met her lips, kissing her, demanding. The mating would be fast, too urgent for anything else. He broke the kiss, leaning back to look between her legs as his cock settled against her passage, one hand going to guide himself, his other braced.

Her eyes widened as he pressed deep, the moment he’d wanted since he first scented her in that room, since the transport, in his bed, on the table in the kitchen, anywhere, what he’d wanted all his adult life. He didn’t care where as long as he could fuck her now.

His eyes returned to where they were joining. Good. That was good, yes, sharp pleasure just beginning. Tight, unbelievably tight, swollen and hot and slick. He rocked, steady hard pressure, watching the head of his cock slip into her. She pulsed around him, the sensation beyond anything he’d ever imagined. He lost himself in the mating, pulling out a little and stabbing in, beginning to thrust.

“Kesh?” she whimpered.

He looked up into her eyes. He couldn’t stop now, no fucking way. He pushed into her deeper, and again, thrusting hard into her slick tightness, each one better, her passage feeling so good. He felt her stretch and yield and take his cock, felt her flesh pulsing around him again. The pleasure was too much, nothing he’d ever felt before, not like this, not even close.

She was looking deeply into his eyes, hers unblinking and then she cried out in pain, arching, coming up against him. It sent him somewhere deep, so carnal. He couldn’t think anymore.

He propped himself on his hands and thrust, watching her face for the dirty pleasure of it. She struggled again, frantic as he broke through her barrier, pumping his hips. He bottomed out in her as she panicked, her hips moving, bucking.

Every thrust was sharp sensation, soft heat and tight wet flesh dragging his length. He could hear himself crying out with the pleasure, a low and constant sound, could feel his cock filling with pressure, too much to hold off. Her smell was in his senses, her taste in his mouth, the feel of her soft pussy. He pinned her to the sand, deep in his mate’s body, the look of her. Never had he felt this way, never in his life. “Look at me, mahen, tasha, little mate,” he said raggedly, thrusting. “Don’t stop looking at me.”

Hala obeyed him. He saw tear tracks on her cheeks and that was it. He exploded into orgasm, crying out, bringing her with him, his pre-cum triggering her mating climax. She came, spreading herself for him, submitting to him as only a vanata female could, her knees coming up sharply on either side of his hips.

He wanted to remember this, wanted to be able to recall every detail. She clamped on him, coming, sending him past pleasure and into something else. He moved over her for the deeper angle, surging into her, thrusting. Then he stilled and began to release deep, the pleasure so keen that he lost all sense of himself. He cried out again. He dropped to his elbows, pinning her head between his hands, thrusting even deeper, stilling and emptying, their faces close.

He watched the gold leak into her irises, expanding, as he knew his were doing the same, her eyes locked on his. He heard himself again, heard her sharp high cries. She was coming so hard, he was, tasha anil-min, Hala, his mate.