Garden of Desire: 1 Read online

  Again the probe was inserted and Cantor winced at the depth Ivan shoved it inside. This time he attached a hand-held monitor to the end of the probe to see inside the creature.

  Ivan looked up and grinned. “He’s a she.”

  “Don’t let Akron see you poking the dragon,” Darak drawled. “He’s already sensitive about his sheep. You’ll never hear the end of it.”

  * * * * *

  The hunting party strode down the path toward the settlement like conquering heroes. Those tending the herds ran back to the longhouses to alert the rest of the colonists they had all returned safely and a large crowd greeted them at the bridge.

  In the center of the crowd was a tall dark-haired man, whom Martha recognized immediately as Captain Adamarik Zingh. At his side, Evena, the former Cell-block Captain of the New Attica, and new wife to the Captain, beamed at Martha.

  Evena rushed to her and gave her a fierce hug. “You played a very naughty trick.” She leaned back and gave her a wicked smile. “Was it worth it?”

  Martha blinked at tears that quickly filled her eyes. “I was a fool to think I could entice him to stay. Now that The Raptor is back, he’ll be leaving.”

  Evena gave her shoulders another hug. “Let’s see how things fall. These pirates are tough nuts to crack.” She looked over at Adam, her heart in her gaze. “When they do fall they crash like mighty oaks. In the meantime, Cookie’s taken over the kitchen. He’s breaking out kegs of ale for a celebration.”

  “Great. I’ll drown my sorrows.”

  “Oh, by the way,” Evena said. “I’d steer clear of Mary for a little while. She’s pissed.”

  Martha smiled half-heartedly. “I could use a good ass-kicking,” she muttered. It might take her mind off the pain in her chest.

  She glanced back at Cantor, now surrounded by men eager to hear the tale of their adventure. Then she caught sight of Fahgwat, hovering at the sidelines. The girl slid through an opening in the crowd, striding hesitantly toward Cantor. He looked up at her approach and smiled in welcome, opening his arms. Fahgwat flew to him and he lifted her high, laughing.

  Martha’s heart broke. Tears streamed down her face and she turned, running back into the woods, needing to get away where she could cry her heart out alone.

  She’d gambled and lost. Cantor would never be hers. He’d take to the skies with Fahgwat, and Martha would be left behind to find another to fill the void in her heart.

  Martha wandered blindly, sobbing, until her legs grew weak. She leaned against a tree and slid to the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees.

  Hands settled on her shoulders, and Martha scraped at the tears on her face before looking up to see who’d followed her. Cantor and Fahgwat knelt beside her, concern etched in their features.

  “Sweetheart, come here,” Cantor said, gently pulling her into his arms.

  “No, leave me alone, please,” she said, her shoulders shaking again with a fresh round of sobs. His strong arms felt so good, so safe. But that was an illusion. She shoved at his chest, pushing him away. “Don’t be kind to me. The last thing I want is your pity. Just leave me alone.”

  “Not until you tell me what brought this on,” he said.

  “Go away!” she wailed.

  “Martha, you gave me a promise,” he said, his voice stern.

  “What?”

  “You promised to obey me, whatever my command.”

  “That was when I wanted you to fuck me,” she said with a sniff. “You’re leaving now, you can’t hold me to that promise.”

  “But I will.”

  Martha wiped at the tears again and lifted her chin, angry now at his insensitivity. “You’re a bastard, Cantor Marlowe.”

  “Tell me, Martha.”

  “All right!” She scowled at him and folded her arms over her chest. “The Captain’s back and you’re finally getting your wish. So good riddance!”

  “What’s my wish, love?” A little smile curved one corner of his lips.

  How dare he laugh at her pain! “To leave! To go back to being a pirate. Adam’s here, you’re free, now.”

  “I am free. He’s agreed to take over the reins as Governor to our colony.”

  “Good for you. Have a good life. Now, leave me alone.”

  “But Martha,” Fahgwat said, her face white with concern. “Cantor is—”

  “No, Violet.” Cantor held up his hand. “Let’s hear her out.” He turned back to Martha. “Why does this make you sad?”

  Martha looked at him like he was crazy. “Because you’re leaving me. Taking her. By the way, her name’s not Violet,” she said nastily.

  “No?” He looked at Fahgwat. “Why did you lie to me?”

  Fahgwat’s face crumpled. “Because my name’s ugly!” she wailed.

  Cantor threw up his hands. “Now, don’t you start the waterworks, too! One’s more than I can handle.”

  “Well that won’t be your problem for much longer, will it?” Martha said, gratified he wasn’t laughing anymore.

  “This is all your fault,” he said, irritation in his tone. “You’ve made her cry.”

  “You make me cry!”

  “For fuck sake! Enough!” he shouted.

  Both women stared at him as if he’d grown two heads.

  Cantor gritted his teeth and rose to his feet. He reached down and grabbed both women by an arm and hauled them to their feet. “You’re coming with me.”

  “Now see here,” Martha said, fighting his grasp as he forced them down the path. “You don’t have any claim on me. You said it yourself. You won’t be bound by me—and you’re not the governor anymore. You have no power over me.”

  “Shut up, Martha!”

  Martha let anger wash over her in a red tide. “Oooh! Oaf! Pig! You let me go!”

  They broke into the clearing and the crowd still gathered at the bridge turned toward them.

  “Hey Cantor!” Darak yelled up to them. “Are you cutting her loose?”

  “Fuck off, Darak!”

  Laughter from the crowd shot Martha’s anger up another notch. She pulled back again and aimed a kick at his ankles.

  In a dizzying move, Cantor grabbed her around the waist and lifted her off her feet, then turned and did the same with Fahgwat.

  “Bastard! Put me down!”

  Cantor took off across the field toward the path leading to his cabin, carrying both women on his hips, laughter and shouted suggestions following them up the hill.

  Cantor turned back to the crowd in a move that made Martha’s head swirl. “I think I can manage quite well alone. Get lost!”

  “How are you going to get them through the door?” Akron asked.

  “Will you be needing a stick to beat her?” Nicky shouted.

  “She prefers his hand!” Akron shouted back.

  “Oooh! You’re going to regret this Cantor Marlowe,” Martha screeched, and flailed her legs striking nothing but air.

  “I don’t think so, love,” Cantor said. “I have you right where I want you.”

  The cabin loomed in front of them and Martha wriggled desperately to free herself. Cantor didn’t stop. He lifted his leg and kicked the door open, carrying the women in sideways. He tossed them onto the bed.

  Then he went back to the door and closed it against the crowd outside his door, latching it shut. He leaned back against it and looked at the women, scurrying to the side of the bed. “Now, we’re going to finish that conversation.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Cantor blew out a breath and forced himself to relax. His first thought had been to take Martha straight to the bed and love her until she begged for release. He could get her there, he knew, where she’d deny him nothing—give him everything.

  He’d left it too long. He should have told her that morning he loved her.

  But now she sat on the bed, her face mutinous and red. He much preferred her anger to her tears. Seeing her defeated, crumpled on the forest floor, a pain had gripped his heart.

  Now,
how would he bring her round where they were both victors—because winning was important to Martha. She’d been relentless in her quest, stubbornly so. A quality he loved and recognized in himself.

  Cantor reached for the buttons on his shirt and opened them, deliberately, slowly.

  “Now, you can just forget about that,” she said, her frown pursing her luscious lips. “What do you think this is? One for the road?”

  Cantor heard her inward anguish beneath the bravado. He pulled off his shirt, satisfied when her gaze swept over his bare chest and hers rose swiftly on a gasp. His hands unbuckled his belt and he drew it from the loops.

  Martha watched the belt and her tongue darted out to lick her lips. By God, he’d have that tongue on his balls before the night was through. He kicked off his boots and flung them across the room, causing both women to jump and eye him nervously.

  When his hands went to the placket of his breeches, Martha stood. “I don’t want this, Cantor,” she said, her voice firm. But her mouth trembled.

  “Yes, you do, love.” He opened his pants and slid them down his legs, tossing them across the room as well.

  “Stop calling me that. It’s a lie!” Her eyes remained stubbornly on his face, and her hands fisted at her sides. She was almost angry enough to let loose on him.

  “Are you defying me, Martha?”

  “Yes! You haven’t the right to command me.”

  “Tsk, tsk.” He bent to retrieve the belt from the floor and held it in front of him with both hands.

  “Oh no, you’re not,” she said, burning anger bordering on hatred in her gaze.

  “Stop me.”

  She flew at him. “Bastard! Liar!” she yelled, hitting him with her closed fists on his chest and shoulders.

  Cantor dropped the belt and opened his arms, taking her blows.

  “Fight me!” she screeched, hitting him until her tears flowed freely. “Fight me,” she cried, then wrapped her arms around herself and backed away.

  Cantor didn’t let her take more than a step away from him. He lifted her and carried her to the bed, laying her gently and coming down on top of her, his hands cupping her face tenderly. “Shhh.” He kissed her lips, her chin, her nose. “Stop crying, love.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she said, her mouth twisting, her hands pushing him back.

  He refused to be budged. “Why, baby? It’s true. I love you.” He kissed her open lips, knowing she didn’t believe him.

  Martha blinked, her sobs slowing to hiccoughs. “What did you say?” she whispered.

  “I love you, Martha the Relentless,” he said, trying to coax a smile from her lips.

  “You’re not just saying that?”

  Cantor shook his head. “When do I ever say anything just to spare someone’s feelings?”

  “Never.” Her fingers spread out on his shoulders and she clutched him. “Does this mean you’re taking me with you, too?”

  “No.” Her eyes filled again and he quickly added, “I’m staying right here.”

  “But your dream?”

  “I was a coward, Martha. I haven’t wanted to let anyone close to me. Didn’t want to love anyone. I was afraid.”

  “But why?”

  “When my father lost his farm, he moved to an apartment in Adelaide and willed himself to die. He didn’t care enough to stay with me. I loved him, but he didn’t love me enough to stay.”

  Martha reached for his face, her palms cupping his cheeks. “You love me enough to stay?”

  “Do you? With me?”

  “Oh yes!” she cried, raising her head to kiss his mouth.

  Their tongues mated, promises exchanged. Cantor slid his lips over hers branding hers with his touch. When he finally lifted his head, she smiled at him.

  “You’re naked, Cantor. And I have too many clothes.”

  “So does Fahgwat,” he murmured.

  They turned to the girl who sat grinning beside them.

  “You know her name?” Martha asked.

  “Of course,” he said.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Fahgwat is a woman, she has the right to choose her own name. But I happen to like hers. Fahgwati are pretty flowers that bloom in the harshest conditions. They’re strong and tenacious and beautiful. Just like her.”

  Fahgwat blushed. “Then I am Fahgwat, for you.” She turned to Martha. “I tried to tell you in the forest he was staying with us.”

  “Cantor,” Martha said, her expression serious again, “I don’t want you to give anything up for me. For us. What will you do now that you are no longer the governor?”

  “I have a new post. While Darak sees to our defenses against the dragons, I am in charge of exploration. Adam brought a new skycraft so that our hunting won’t be quite as strenuous the next time.”

  “You’ll have your adventure.”

  “And I’ll have you. What more could a man want?”

  “Do you want to be alone?” Fahgwat asked. “I do not mind.”

  Cantor kept his gaze on Martha, who was first in his heart. This was her choice to make.

  Martha’s eyes warmed as she looked over at the younger woman. “I promised you he’d teach you a woman’s pleasure. Cantor’s a lot of man, Fahgwat. We can share him.”

  Fahgwat’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Will he take me, finally? I am dying for the ultimate pleasure.”

  Martha’s smile grew wider. “Soon. First, I’ll show you how to masturbate.”

  “Oh please, yes! Pingat told me I can never be an adequate lover until I understand what excites my own body.”

  Martha laughed and slanted him a wicked sideways glance, promising sweet tortures to come.

  Cantor’s whole body hummed with anticipation of the pleasures he would know watching his women love each other.

  * * * * *

  The interior of the cabin was aglow with the light from every phospher-pot Cantor could put his hands on for the occasion, and Martha’s talented mouth had taken the edge off his hunger. He was ready for a leisurely initiation of Fahgwat’s nubile body.

  “Are you sure this is what you want,” he asked, as his hands guided her slim hips over his cock.

  “Yes, Can-torr, I am ready.” She reached out her hands and laid one against his chest for support and threaded her fingers with Martha’s as she lowered her body onto his.

  “You can take me slowly,” he reminded her.

  “If I take this any slower, I will die. You both have prepared me well, now be quiet while I concentrate.”

  Cantor bit back a smile and shared a warm glance with Martha. Fahgwat had certainly come out of her shell the past few days. Her modesty had quickly been discarded once she’d embraced the passionate loving Martha and Cantor had lavished on her.

  Fahgwat slid down his cock, inch by excruciating inch, the hot channel of her sex enveloping him in moist heat.

  Cantor prayed for restraint when he felt the thin membrane butt against the head of his cock.

  “It hurts,” she said, her face screwing tight.

  “Back off a little, baby,” Cantor said.

  “Let me help.” Martha leaned over and latched onto Fahgwat’s nipples with her mouth and hand, her head circling, her fingers rolling the tiny, pebbled point between her fingers.

  Deep within Fahgwat’s body, Cantor felt the first telltale trembling that heralded her growing arousal.

  Fahgwat had certainly shown a penchant for Martha’s loving.

  Cantor had spent hours watching Martha instruct the girl in the finer art of masturbation, even knowing the women did it to inflame his desire.

  Sometimes, they loved each other while he watched. Martha would suckle the girl’s breasts, nearly to the point of orgasm, then send her over the edge when her skilled tongue plied the girl’s pussy. Her time aboard the New Attica had prepared her well for the role of teacher and older sister.

  Cantor loved to watch the women, loved watching Martha now as her clever fingers worked on Fahgw
at’s clit.

  Cantor slid his fingers between Martha’s legs and slipped them into her pussy. Martha gasped, then wriggled her lush ass to take him deeper.

  Fahgwat’s eyes closed and her legs trembled as she slowly slid down his pole, gasping as thin membrane of her virginity gave way. When she was fully seated, his cock so deep he touched her womb, she opened her eyes and smiled.

  “I am a woman, now,” she said.

  Martha released the breast in her mouth and looked back at Cantor. “She is indeed.”

  Cantor’s body shuddered and Fahgwat’s eyes grew round. “I should move now, yes?”

  “Yes!” he said, then added for her benefit, “if it doesn’t hurt too much.” She was killing him.

  Fahgwat lifted on a long indrawn breath, then slid down again, circling her hips a little. “I like this, Can-torr.”

  “Whatever you do, don’t say my name,” he pleaded.

  Martha giggled and wagged her tail. “Concentrate, Cantor. You’re leaving me behind.”

  “Impossible, you’re always a step in front of me, little thief.” He groaned when Fahgwat bounced faster, her little breasts shivering with her movements. He fisted his hand and held it against Martha’s pussy—giving her the choice.

  “Mmmm. Cram it into me, baby.”

  Cantor worked his fist into her velvety channel. With Fahgwat bouncing on his cock and Martha twisting on his hand, his whole world was immersed in fragrant, creamy love.

  “Can-torr!” Fahgwat cried out, her hands squeezing her breasts.

  “I warned you, love,” Cantor drove his hips upward, spearing her, taking her, finally, over the edge—himself along with her.

  “Yes!” Martha screamed, pumping her hips, her convulsing vagina making sucking sounds around his fist.

  Fahgwat’s orgasm exploded through her body and she writhed on his cock, shuddering as she spasmed, milking his sex.

  When the sweet violence of their fucking ended, Cantor gathered his two women close, planting kisses on first one upturned mouth then the other.