Page 54 of Taken to Voraxia
“It doesn’t work like that,” she says and there is pleasure in her eyes, which seem to shine as brightly as the xamxin river. “If I know what it is, it’s not a gift. You have to be surprised. Were you surprised by this?”
“Hexa.” I look to the device and gently stroke the blue-grey stone she has selected to proxy Voraxia. I reach up to my Miari and touch her cheek. “I am honored by this greatly. As I am by you. I could imagine no other Rakukanna. You are perfect and tonight, if you will have me, I will breed you. I hunger…”
I take her hand and hesitantly place it on the front of my loin cloth. I received another following the ceremony and it tents as it as has tented for her all solar.
I growl when she palms my xora freely, as she has before. Her eyes are glazed with a desire that might just match my own. At least, it might come close.
I comb my fingers through her curls. “Iachefor you, Miari, as I have ached these past many solars and lunars.”
“I know.” She squeezes my xora and licks her lips and my thighs harden, my bones ache. I am desperate for her breeding slit. It is only covered by such thin cloth. It would take almost no effort at all to remove it. “I’ve ached too.”
I hiss and deliver the kiss to her temple before pulling her tight against me. “We must remain a little longer, until after we have received the dignitaries from the other quadrants. And I must feed you. Then, we will return to our home where you will give to me these gifts that you have prepared and after I know what is within these gifts, I will devour you.”
Miari throws her pleasure to the wind, head fallen back on her neck as she relaxes into my arms. I never thought I could bring the pleasure sound from her in such abandon. It makes me proud.
“I’m glad you have your priorities straight. You are really bad at surprises aren’t you?”
“I do not like not knowing about the content of these gifts,” I growl, nuzzling further into her throat.
“I got that. And I think I’m going to have a lot of fun with this.” She blinks at me with one eye, and I feel that we share a secret between us even though this is a fact that is known.
I am pleased as we share my throne seat and I feed her delicacies from the platters of foods that are brought to us, and accept the adulation of visitors from across Voraxia, and then across the cosmos. They are all here for her. And they are all warranted, because even though I do not unwrap her, she is still a gift to us all.
I stroke Miari’s back, her neck, her face. We whisper soft words to each other. She feeds me morsels even though this is not done in Voraxia. Only the male feeds his female, while the female feeds their young. Perhaps it will be different with her. Perhaps she will want to fulfill more of the roles of a male. Perhaps she will want me to care for our youngling equally. The thoughts do not trouble me. I revel in them, for like the gifts she presents, they are new and exciting and unknown.
“Is this one of the dignitaries?” She says as the night grows dark and the festivities are at their most boisterous.
I glance up, away from her face for the first moment since she has given me her gift, and see a larger procession heading towards us. “Hexa. This is Reoran. She is what they call Oosa Dua of the Eighth Quadrant, a constellation called Oosmo.”
“It’s a she?”
“Of course,” I say and I nudge my Rakukanna until she rises. “It is clear, is it not?” And this time, as I rise to stand in my rightful place beside her, it is I who tease.
She shoots me an expression that is full of pleasure as she straightens and turns to face Reoran, approaching.
Reoran and the Oosa do not have skeletons in the way Voraxians and humans do, nor exoskeletons in the ways of other beings. The Oosa have thick, gelatinous blue flesh whose translucence gives view onto blue blood and darker blue organs. Blob-like, the Oosa delegation roll their way forward.
“Oosa Dua Reoran, you honor us on this day,” I say, pitching my voice loud and stepping towards the approaching delegation. As I do, Miari steps up too and I am shocked when I feel her slight, soft palm slide against my own.
She grips my hand in a gesture I do not understand, and though it isoddto receive a delegation linked in this way, I am warmed by her touch and too moved to risk releasing her. I get the sense that this is another affection gesture and I am pleased that my touch is what provides her comfort.
Reoran trills, patches of her flesh lighting up as she speaks. The lit patches of flesh, combined with the trills are what make up the Oosa language. Because of it, the translators don’t catch it and one of the other Oosa rolls forward and repeats the words of their commander in high Voraxian.
“Our Oosa Dua could not be more pleased that you have found such a strong, shapely female to occupy the throne of Voraxia at your side,” the interpreter says, though it sounds as if he speaks from deep below a water’s surface.
I open my mouth to give thanks, but my Rakukanna surprises me again by stepping forward slightly and giving our guests a generous bow. She does not release my hand. “I am honored by your praise. Thank you so much for coming so far to honor us.”
Reoran’s trills grow louder and the light-bursts in her skin become stronger and glow in more frequent intervals. The interpreter waits a moment for her to finish trilling and as she does, bright patches of color flare across the skins of many other Oosa gathered around her.
He says, “Our Oosa Dua Reoran is very taken with the Rakukanna. She would like to give the Rakukanna a proper greeting.”
My back tenses, electricity firing through it as Miari turns slightly towards me. “That would be great.”
The Oosa all trill wildly then, clustering closer towards my Rakukanna. I quickly pull her back and hold her tight to my side. I feel black heat fill my ridges but I do not betray the emotion, for I understand its provenance and the Oosa, despite their request, mean my Miari no harm.
I smile and bow very slightly. “Apologies, Reoran, but my Rakukanna does not know the greeting customs of the Oosa and as you might recall, we Voraxian males tend to be possessive of our females. I would prefer if my Rakukanna offer you her human greeting instead.”
I turn to Miari and bring her forward as I approach Reoran, who’s trills have died into a disappointed purr. “You can offer Reoran your hand, Rakukanna, but you will not be engaging the Oosa in their greeting ritual this day or any other.”
