Mar’i
The deal was done. The signed contract, promising them a ship worthy of their ambitions, lay on the table between them. The air in their cramped rented room crackled with a current more potent than any spectrocite crystal. It wasn’t just victory; it was vindication. The promise of a future, solid and real.
Sarka stood by the window, her back to Mar’i, looking out at the sprawling port below. The faint, internal luminescence of her skin painted her silhouette in soft, shifting blues and greens, a living nebula trapped in human form. She was quiet, her stoic posture a stark contrast to the riotous joy that Mar’i felt bubbling up inside her.
“We did it,” Sarka said, her voice a low murmur, almost disbelieving.
Mar’i didn’t answer with words. She moved, a silent, fluid predator crossing the small room. She stopped directly behind Sarka, so close she could feel the faint heat radiating from her body. She had wanted to do this for months, since that first night in the Hidden Blossom. She had wanted to close the distance, to see if that glow was as warm as it looked.
“We did,” Mar’i finally whispered, her breath ghosting over the shell of Sarka’s ear.
Sarka flinched, a subtle tightening of her shoulders, but she didn’t pull away. Mar’i slowly, deliberately, raised her hands and placed them on Sarka’s hips. The fabric of her trousers was rough, but the body beneath was firm, taut with muscle and tension.
“You’ve been carrying this alone for so long,” Mar’i murmured, her thumbs stroking slow circles over the sharp line of Sarka’s hipbones. “Let me help you carry it. Just for tonight.”
She felt Sarka’s breath hitch. Mar’i leaned in and pressed her lips to the back of Sarka’s neck, right where her dark hair met the nape. The skin was impossibly smooth, and tasted of salt and something else… something clean and mineral, like cool stone after a rain. She flicked her tongue out, a slow, deliberate taste, and Sarka shuddered, a full-body wave that Mar’i felt from her fingertips to her core.
Sarka turned in her arms, her dark eyes, those endless pools of obsidian, searching Mar’i’s face. There was no fear in them, only a raw, vulnerable curiosity. Mar’i answered the unspoken question by closing the final inch between them and sealing her mouth over Sarka’s.
The kiss was a revelation. Sarka’s lips were soft, hesitant, but they parted instantly under Mar’i’s insistent pressure. Mar’i deepened the kiss, her tongue a bold explorer claiming this new territory. She poured weeks of pent-up desire into it, tasting the unique, electric flavor of her. It was like licking a battery, a shocking, metallic tang that was pure Sarka.
Her hands roamed up Sarka’s back, pulling her closer, until there was no space left between them. She could feel the frantic, unsteady beat of Sarka’s heart against her own chest. She broke the kiss, panting, her forehead resting against Sarka’s.
“I have wanted to do that since the moment I saw you,” Mar’i confessed, her voice thick with lust.
She didn’t wait for a reply. She guided Sarka backward toward the narrow bed, their lips meeting again in a series of hungry, desperate kisses. Sarka went down willingly, her movements unpracticed but eager. Mar’i followed, covering her body with her own, her voluptuous curves pressing against Sarka’s lean, wiry frame.
She sat up, straddling Sarka’s thighs, her hands already working at the laces of Sarka’s tunic. “I want to see all of you,” she commanded, her voice a husky growl. “I want to see you glow.”
She peeled the fabric back, revealing Sarka’s torso. The bioluminescence was stronger now, a beautiful, ethereal light pulsing gently under her skin, tracing the lines of her ribs and the muscles of her stomach. It was the most erotic thing Mar’i had ever seen.
Mar’i leaned down, not to kiss her, but to worship. She pressed open-mouthed kisses along the glowing lines, her tongue tracing the cool, shimmering patterns. She took a taut, peaked nipple into her mouth, sucking hard, and was rewarded with a sharp cry from Sarka and a sudden, brilliant flare of light from her skin, as if her pleasure were feeding the glow.
“Mar’i,” Sarka gasped, her hands tangling in Mar’i’s colorful braids, holding on as if she were the only solid thing in a world of overwhelming sensation.
Mar’i smiled against her skin. She moved lower, her lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire and saliva down Sarka’s stomach. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of Sarka’s trousers and tugged them down, baring her completely. Sarka was slick and swollen with need, her body a silent, desperate plea.
Mar’i didn’t tease. She settled between Sarka’s thighs and lowered her head, her eyes closing as she breathed in the musky, intoxicating scent of her arousal. She flicked her tongue out for a first, tentative taste, and the flavor was pure, distilled essence of Sarka—electric, primal, and utterly addicting.
She devoured her. Her tongue was a masterful instrument, stroking, circling, probing. She found the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of Sarka’s sex and lavished it with attention, sucking and licking with a relentless, focused rhythm. Sarka’s hips bucked off the bed, her cries growing louder, more frantic. The light from her skin pulsed wildly, strobing in the dim room like a captive star.
Mar’i slid two fingers inside her, groaning at the tight, wet heat that gripped them. She curled her fingers, finding that special spot deep within, and began to pump her hand in time with the movements of her tongue.
The effect was instantaneous. Sarka arched her back, a silent scream on her lips as her entire body convulsed. A wave of pure, unadulterated ecstasy crashed over her, and the light from her skin exploded in a brilliant, blinding flash, bathing the entire room in a celestial blue-white glow before slowly, slowly fading back to a soft, gentle pulse.
Mar’i crawled back up her body, gathering the trembling, sated woman into her arms. She held her close, pressing soft kisses to her damp forehead. Sarka was silent, her face buried in the crook of Mar’i’s neck, her body still humming with the aftershocks.
In the quiet aftermath, the contract on the table seemed insignificant. This was the real treasure. This was the true beginning of their haven.
