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Anger rushed through me at the creatures who had done that to her. I had been there when she had first offered us a glimpse of them, proving that she would withstand any torture we might put her through.
Not that I would ever allowed that to happen.
My anger grew, and I pulled her hands away. I turned her around almost brutally, pressing her in between the railing and me to explore her scars in the starlight.
My fingers traced from the top of her right shoulder all the way down to her shoulder blade. Square patches of scars.They peeled my skin off, one patch at a time, for days, she had nearly bragged to prove how futile torture would be on her.
She squirmed under my grip, but I held tight, committing each line to memory. If I hadn't already admired her spirit, I would have right then. She was the most formidable kallini I had ever met.
I caged her arms, grabbed her tits with my hands, and squeezed her nipples, while my mouth descended on her desecrated flesh. I kissed every inch while I played with her breasts, feeling her resistance break and her breathing increase. I would take away the bad memories of her flesh being tortured. If I could do nothing else, I would do that. But if I were ever given the chance to avenge her pain, I would peel the bastards' skin off layer by layer just like they had done to her. But I wouldn't stop!
She whimpered, and I forced my hands to be softer, gentler, and refocused my mind from the creatures who had done that to her back, to Chrissy.
My right hand left her breast and moved in between her clamped legs. Gently, but persistently, I pried them open until I found her sweet spot. She was still wet, and I used her juices to circle her clit just like my other hand was circling her stiff nipple now while I kissed and sucked on her puckered skin.
She moaned. Her body trembled.
She was letting go.
Her legs spread, and I inserted first two then three fingers into her passage, moved them in and out, making sure to slide over her clit.
Her head fell back. Her silky soft hair caressed my forehead as I worked my way down her shoulder blade while fingerfucking her as her hips moved back and forward.
Again she cried out in pleasure just as I kissed the last patch of her scar tissue, and she turned into a boneless, panting mess in my arms.
I picked her up and carried her below deck, where I gently placed her on the furs.
Deep green eyes regarded me questioningly, and I repeated, "Kenduczi."
She wasn't the kind of kallini who cried, but her eyes moistened and her pupils dilated as a hint of a smile played around her lips.
"Kenduczi," I said again, tucking the furs around her, before I snuggled in beside her, holding her tight.
Mybodywastheway it was, and I had never been vain about it. My scars? They were there, so what? They were part of me and my history as much as the accolades I wore on my dress uniform or the insignia on my regular uniform calling me out as a colonel. I had earned every single one of them.
So why, then, had I reacted yesterday like I did? It wasn't as if I hadn't given Kendryx and the others a glimpse of them before. But suddenly, standing there on the open deck, fully exposed to Kendryx, had done something to me that was hard to explain. For the first time, I had experienced shame over my mutilated body and hadn't wanted him to see my flaws.
It might have been a result of the incredible sex we had shared, because… wow! Just wow! I had never come that hard before and not only because I had never fucked anybody out in the open like that or stood bare-ass naked on the deck of a ship. No, it had been him, Kendryx, who sent my body into an unexpected tailspin that still curled my toes when I thought of his massive body pumping into me.
Whatever it was that made me react the way I did, the way he had responded to it made my insides quiver. Not only had he accepted me the way I was, but he had tried to make me feel better, assuming I was self-conscious about the marks. That man was getting under my skin faster and harder than I had ever thought possible.
More than anything, I yearned to explore his softer side, the one he showed me after, the way he had made me feel cherished, protected, and safe.
The only time I had ever needed protection had been when I was orphaned at nine. When my time of playing with dolls had come to an abrupt end, and I realized the only way for me to stay alive was to fight. So I learned how.
There had been a short window of time, when I was sixteen and thought myself in love, where I wanted nothing more than to become a mother, have a family, to give what had been robbed from me.
Sixteen was old enough to join the Terran Confederation's military where a four-year long stint would buy me the right to become a wife, a mother. Even if Mike, the boy I thought myself in love with, and I would have been found to be genetically incompatible with each other, my four years would have paid for a trip to the Gene Bank where I would have been artificially inseminated using the genetic material of somebody whose genes would have been compatible with me, and Mike would have been okay with it. Just like I was okay with him donating to the same Gene Bank and leaving his DNA behind for another woman to be artificially inseminated to bear children Mike would never get to meet.
At least I thought so. Turned out Mike hadn't been all that okay with it. As soon as he turned eighteen, and my stint in the military was halfway over, he went to the Gene Bank for an entirely different reason. He went to get matched.
Which was another way of starting a family.
You either joined the Forces and were allowed to choose your future partner, or you went to the Gene Bank and started a family with whoever they chose for you. He picked option two and broke my heart.
At least he had the decency to let me know.
Most men and women in the Forces were there to earn their right to choose who they wanted to start a family with and most already had somebody in mind, which left me and only a few on the outside.
