Enyo Chronicles

JOON’S TEMPTATION

By

Evanne Lorraine

© copyright by Evanne Lorraine, September 2009

Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, September 2009

ISBN 978-1-60394-362-8

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Joon shifted, almost imperceptibly. Still, such restlessness was unacceptable in any Belle Amity disciple. She swallowed a sigh.

Normally, she excelled at waiting. Lately, it had been hard to school her mind to quiet and to maintain the rigid posture protocol dictated. As the peak of her fertility cycle grew closer, the waiting got even harder. It seemed that the older she got the more violently her body protested her barren state.

Last quarter, she’d been confined to bed for a miserable week. Here on Enyo the weeks were only seventy-two hours long, but even a three-day week was much too long when she was wracked with pain.

She concentrated on loosening her neck muscles, trying to forestall the headache that threatened to make her discomfort worse. Her cycles had never been like this back on Earth.

Since her arrival on Enyo, her hormones had gone from mild rebellion to no-holds-barred guerilla warfare. She wasn’t sure whether it was the abundance of testosterone exuding warriors, or the shocking encounter with Dalila, which was to blame. Either way, the misery was Enyo related and she couldn’t help wishing that her tour here would end.

To distract herself from the uncomfortable vigil, she let her thoughts wander back to the last time she’d see Dalila.

The disciple had been desperate to know the truth of her mate’s secret hearts. But, she’d controlled herself well, hiding the need from anyone other than another sister.

Joon had studied her openly. “There was another factor influencing my decision to persuade the councilman, do you wish to hear of it?”

Plainly, not all that sure, Dalila had said, “Please.”

“Very well. You have a rare portion of courage, disciple. I would see your genes carried to future generations.” Joon had smiled, pleased to share a positive assessment. Then she’d started to make the sign of the Goddess over the other woman, signaling the end of their conversation.

Dalila halted her with another question. “Kelvar and Dexon, did you….did you influence them also?”

“It wasn’t necessary,” Joon said with as much reassurance as the words could hold. “When I examined them, I read their hearts. You have no reason to doubt your mates’ love.”

“Thank you,” Dalila said, bowing deeply. “I need to find them.”

Joon had returned the bow. “The sisters and I will be leaving for New Eden, the capitol of Enyo, in a few minutes. I take my farewell of you now, disciple. May the Goddess keep you until we meet again.”

“And you, Commander Joon.”

And then she made the sign of the Goddess over Dalila, giving the sisterhood’s blessing to Dalila’s unusual union with the warriors.

When Joon had proceeded toward her craft, the deep growl of warrior voices halted her journey. Her steps slowed, she turned her head, glancing back at the lovers. Needing to reassure herself that all was well with the disciple and her mates.

The Enyo men had caged Dalila between them, speaking to her in their rough manner. She had nuzzled each man in turn, reassuring both warriors of her love.

Certain that all was well, Joon had tried to make herself leave. But, the three lovers had captured her curiosity and her gaze remained locked on the trio.

One of the twin warriors had untangled himself from the embrace, taking a stride away from them, and then he’d paused to say something to the man still holding Dalila.

Unconsciously, Joon had put her fist to her mouth, stifling a cry of loss. The strength of her reaction surprised her. It was an unconventional breeding arrangement. And yet, she’d sensed that the three of them belonged together.

Perhaps, Joon had tapped into Dalila’s feelings, because the small disciple spoke to the man leaving, plainly displeased about something. Soon the scolded warrior was kissing his mate. As the kiss continued, big hands cupped the small woman’s bottom, pulling her flush against the warrior’s hard body.

Though the evening had cooled, Joon had grown warm. Her breasts had tightened and the channel between her legs had grown liquid with wanting while deep inside her belly an even more fundamental need unfurled.

Twisting in his arms, Dalila had captured the other man and pulled him closer. She’d kissed him thoroughly. He’d returned her caress with so much enthusiasm that Joon had found herself licking her own lips. And then he’d covered Dalila’s breasts with his hands.

Joon hadn’t been able to keep from noticing that Dalila’s breasts were small, certainly no larger than her own. Shamefully, she’d continued to stare even as she projected an image of herself on board the departing craft, unable to tear herself away from the erotic scene, taking place in the privacy of the jungle.

The spaceship’s engine roared to life. And still, Joon watched the lovers, straining her capacity for illusion by cloaking her presence among the lush tropical plants in order to move closer.

Dalila’s warriors had worked together to strip off her uniform, and then theirs. At last, there had been no layers left between them. One man kissed the side of the disciple’s neck, stroking from between her woman’s slit to her back passage.

As the other man lifted Dalila, she’d wrapped her legs around the other’s lean hips, opening her secrets to both warriors. Unable to resist, Joon edged closer, confident that her cloaking would protect her from discovery.

“Now, sweet Dalila?” One warrior growled against her mouth.

The man’s deep voice made Joon’s own lips itch.

“Yes,” Dalila whimpered, wriggling between the two incredible male bodies with their intimidating breeding shafts fully aroused–hard, long, and thick.

Joon’s sex had fluttered hopefully, her gaze riveted on the scene.

And then they’d both plunged into Dalila’s fragile body.

DALILA'S CHOICE

By

Evanne Lorraine

© copyright by Evanne Lorraine, March 2009

Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, March 2009

ISBN 978-1-60394-289-9

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

“Wait child, I would speak to you before you depart,” Mother Marian called.

The petite elder hurried toward Dalila, with her deep blue cloak flapping like restless wings behind her.

Standing on the narrow ladder, which led into the passenger compartment, only Dalila’s head was still visible. She reversed direction, climbing to the outer deck, and then jumping lightly to the ground.

Mother Marian never spoke idly, so Dalila was eager to hear her words of wisdom.

When Dalila drew close, she was shocked by the leader’s appearance. Dark shadows rimmed her pale blue eyes. Smudges marred the normally pristine white collar of her long dress. Her familiar lined face seemed to have grown thinner in just the few days since she’d seen the holy woman.

Mother Marion headed the team of scientists, synthesizers, and magic-wielders, who had been working around the clock to ready her ship for the journey.

As Dalila bowed before the collective’s leader, she made the sign of the Goddess over her head, muttering a ritual blessing. Then the diminutive holy woman tugged her impatiently away from the vessel, which was already humming with an excitement that matched Dalila’s own.

She found a warm smile for the elder. “What is it, mother?”

“I fear for your safety, my child.”

Dalila’s smile faded. But, she spoke lightly. “I understand the hazards of space travel, Mother. Indeed, isn’t that why I was chosen? I am unfit for breeding and therefore expendable.”

Mother Marian peered up at her, fixing her with piercing blue eyes. The power of her gaze had not been dimmed by age. “You understand nothing, disciple. The stasis process is far from perfect. Our most recent tests have only a forty percent successful reanimation rate.”

“May the Goddess smile upon this mission,” Dalila murmured, doing her best to hide the fear that the holy woman’s words fueled.

“Nothing more I can do about the craft. Listen well, my child. For I have scant time to teach you about the ways of warriors.”

“The old ones, who abandoned Earth?”

“Yes. Now, hold your questions and open your mind or you will arrive on Enyo as empty headed as the newest babe.” Mother Marian said, and then muttered under her breath, “Precious little good will you be at expressing warrior semen.”

Dalila was so shocked, she was certain she’d misunderstood. But a glance at the holy woman’s face convinced her that she’d heard correctly. A wild mixture of dread, fear, and excitement increased her tension.

She’d known she was on a sacred quest to gather the precious seeds of life for the sisterhood. But, this was the first anyone had mentioned harvesting sperm from warriors.

The men who’d fled ancient Earth were legendary figures of evil and aggression. Warriors only respected brute strength. The rumors of life on their new planet were tales used to frighten naughty children.

With a wrenching effort of will, she forced her mind to calm, listening intently to Mother Marian’s instructions.

“Some of the warrior factions of old Earth were blindly aggressive, this much is true. But there were also intelligent men who were both strong and honorable. Without the male scientists contributions we would not have a spacecraft to launch. The sisterhood has merely refined previous designs, adding features, and downsizing the craft.” The holy woman paced as she spoke. Soon she was moving so rapidly that her feet no longer connected with the ground.

“There is more, so much more, that you should know, but our time is short. Do not underestimate the men you seek. They were never the clumsy ogres of myth. It’s been more than two millennia since an Earth woman had congress with a Warrior. They may have learned a thing or two. Trust your instincts. They, along with your training, are your best weapons.”

“Yes, Mother,” she said, wishing there was time for even a few of the thousands of questions crowding her thoughts.

The elder beckoned her closer. She bowed, leaning nearer, and then the holy woman’s gnarled hands smoothed Dalila’s temples, forcing her eyes closed. A kaleidoscope of images poured from Mother Marion into Dalila’s mind, etching whole new banks of data faster than she could process any of it. The rate kept increasing until her conscious mind shut down– unable to handle the information overload.

Her last coherent awareness was stunned disbelief at the image of a woman pleasuring a man’s sexual organs using her mouth.