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"Rejas! Why will you take nothing seriously?"
"Don't you mean why don't I take you seriously? Last time I looked, that wasn't a crime. But I have been up in the mountains and away from court." She glanced over at Dev and Nnora, lips tilting as she spied their exasperated looks. "Either one of you recently declare it a crime not to take 'Dari seriously?"
She saw Nnora's lips curl up before she raised a hand to hide her amusement.
Dev's eyes twinkled as he shook his head. "Not yet. However, I, for one, find merit in the suggestion. 'Dari, shall I declare it law for one particular fem to take you seriously?"
A black frown marred his ruggedly handsome face as he spat his reply. "This is a serious matter and your teasing is not amusing. Should I care to engage her infantile attentions--which I do not--I would not require a royal edict to advance my cause."
Dohsan lowered her gaze, not wanting to see the pitying looks Devtorvas and her sister wore. 'Dari's reaction shocked them, but not her. She had grown used to being his verbal punching bag.
Why must he always go out of his way to inform the world he wants nothing to do with me?
Eying the commander coldly, she opened her mouth, determined to respond in like vitriolic manner until her angry gaze snagged on an interesting development.
He lied! He wanted her. Boy, did he want her!
She licked suddenly dry lips, eyes almost crossing as they locked with greedy attention on his prominent hard-on. Rising in a massive column of flesh, there was no hiding the mastodon jutting skyward from the juncture of his muscular thighs. Under her salivating stare, GanR'dari's cockswelled to an ultra-fem-pleasing size, faithfully delineated by the form-fitting cut of his palace dress uniform.
Oh, my! She definitely liked the new court style. It did a lot to showcase a male's ... interest.
"Be grateful I do not take you seriously, Commander."
"Am I to shake in my battle boots, baby-fem?"
She looked up, met his eyes and found it impossible to look away.
"I think you might, aged qarm. I have become vaShafaran--a Keeper of the Ancient Paths. Any male I accept will bow in respect to the old ways ... and to me."
"Surely you jest, Dohsan!"
Nnora's shocked outburst only added to the general feelings of isolation and discouragement Dohsan had been suffering lately. Having spoken with her sister at length on these matters, many times, she found it hard to believe her sister hadn't understood their recent conversations or had not taken her beliefs seriously enough to have given them further thought.
"You are skirting insanity, fem!" 'Dari's harsh words didn't hurt as much as Nnora's stinging censure because she never expected he would see the merit in her world view. She also knew he would realize how seriously her choice of life-path affected him and everyone around her. Especially him.
She opened her mouth to answer and found all her muscles frozen. Locked in place, she struggled, seeking to avoid the increasingly familiar yet unwelcome sensation of falling into trance.
Please, no! Not now. This is not the time to fall under vision--
Notwithstanding her wishes, the seeing engulfed her. She gasped, head spinning as her eyesight dimmed. Euphoria rushed through her as a kaleidoscope of scenes, scents and textures rolled over her, capturing her consciousness.
Glimpses of a possible future engulfed her, streamed before her in choppy pictures, fractured into stark, strobing flashes...
A shadow-shrouded room.
Glimpses of her own passion-contorted face.
Flashes of a male, half concealed by darkness.
Clumsy haste and intemperate hunger.
Masculine hands roughly cupping her breasts.
Loud sighs, breathless moans.
Hard fingers flexing, forcing engorged nipples into already spasming terat.
Swollen, itching nipples sinking into the suctioning mouths of the male's terat.
Urgent need spiraling out of control.
A million, million tiny pinpricks of delicious pain eating into her buried tips.
Strong, muscle-corded arms raising and shifting her.
Lowering and lifting her, working her nipples without mercy.
Muscled thighs moving between her legs, opening her.
A deft hand parting her slick folds, revealing her hot pink center.
Lustful, agonized moans.
Pava juices flowing hot and creamy, raining down on a rampant cherzda.
A shift, an upward thrust.
The heavy head slick between her outer lips, pressing against her nippa.
Two bodies entwining, writhing in erotic bliss.
Frenzied cries shattering the silence of the quiet room.
Male triumph ringing out in the shadowed room.
Then muffled amusement.
"Quiet, baby-fem. If you wake the children, our love play will be over for the day..."
"...and I say again, no qarm worth his salt would allow a fem to rule over--owww! Damn-it-all, Nnora ... that hurt!"
The tail end of Devtorvas's vehement statement, interrupted by his startled shout, snapped the threads of her vision.
She shuddered, trying to shake off her distraction. Clasping her arms about her waist, Dohsan allowed her body to slump against the wall as she closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing. Her pulse stuttered. Heaving lungs fought to supply needed air as she battled her way out of a dense sensual fog. The orgasmic feelings of the vision still careened through her, zinging through her veins like a thick sweet liqueur.
Thank the stars the flash had lasted but a few seconds. She could feel the weight of GanR'dari's intent stare but resisted the urge to turn and look at him. That way spelled disaster. Taking the big champion to the floor and humping his brains out was the last thing her sister and bond-brother needed to witness. She very much feared the possibility could become reality if she met his challenging gaze.
Picturing the event, she moaned softly. The muscles of her lower belly clenched tight with renewed desire. Her pava flowered, producing the sweet juice generated by her vision of the coupling she hoped would be in her near future. Feeling desperate, dying to experience that level of satiation right now, she struggled to achieve a measure of calm.
Harrumph! Damned useless attempt, that.
She squeezed her eyes tight, fearing she might resort to clawing through her outer layer of skin to get at the sexual irritation building underneath. Need slithered through her. Persistent, the crawling ache lurked just below the surface, shifting aimlessly from spot to tortured spot. Scalp, breasts, cunt--they all demanded satisfaction. Her scalp felt flushed and itchy. Her nipples burned ... She ached to palm them, tweak the swollen tips between thumb and forefinger to assuage the need. Between her thighs, the nerves in her cunt sizzled and popped with aroused fury.
By the stars, she needed relief.