A Union of Convenience (Formerly ‘Alone’) | By : Keen Category: M through R > Predator Views: 13010 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Predator movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Completely revised and reedited as of
20/03/2008, voice your opinions and criticisms at will.
-Cam
Isis
eyes opened wide in the dark room, her drunkenness from dinner had worn off and
she was very crisp and alert. Her hands discreetly reached up to grab the knife
under her pillow. There was movement outside her door and it was coming closer.
She was readying herself for a fight when it suddenly flew open.
“What are you doing?”
she said angrily, sitting up.
Ali’shir thundered inside, tossing
his covers and pillows onto the bed. “Strip,” he commanded walking to the other
side.
“Excuse me?!”
“And lower your voice,”
he shushed, “There is no time to argue, Isis.
Do as I say. Strip.”
Watching him nervously scramble
around the room, made her believe this was serious and reluctantly she followed
orders, shimmying out of the clothes she fell asleep in. Wadding them up, she stuffed
them under her pillow with her knife as she lay down as instructed. Ali’shir
climbed in next to her and Isis sat up again,
“Ali’shir if this is
your idea of a pick up line, I swear-”
The male gave up on explanations and
simply grabbed her by the arms and pulled her against him. “Do not fight me
now,” he said curling his legs over hers to stop her kicking. “Just close your
eyes and act surprised when they come in.”
They?
Her heart raced. Who where ‘they’ and why did it mean they had to be naked like
this on the bed? Isis wanted to ask him but
she found herself unable to speak. His body slid against her, warm and hard. He
curled his arms round her waist, pulling her closer, pressing the planes of his
stomach and chest against her back, pocketing her entire body in his. There was
no breathing, let alone speaking as he enveloped her in his warmth.
Ali’shir brushed her hair away from
her shoulder, laying his face against hers as he watched the entrance. His eyes
focused on the tiny sliver of space between the floor and the door. He could
see feet coming closer, Isis could too. It
changed her breaking markedly. Her heart raced, her body was taught as a bow
against his. Ali’shir tightened his arm round her and told her to be calm.
“Close your eyes,” he
said, running his hand over her face. “Just trust me.”
“Trust you,” she
scoffed.
“Trust me,” he breathed
hotly against her ear.
Recovering from a shiver, Isis took a deep breath and shut her eyes, closing them
tightly and keeping them that way even as she heard the door open. She buried her face in his arm and he moved to
let her, his hand tangling in her long curls. The lights flickered on and
Ali’shir slowly raised his head from hers, peeling his body away with a
startled grunt, his fist wiping his eyes.
“If we were coming to
kill you, we certainly would have had the time,” Tu’shar tsked stepping inside.
“Remember no where is entirely safe, even here in the ship.”
While the old male chastised him for
not being alert, Ali’shir knew just as well as he did that he took great care
trying to creep inside, as if he was trying
to catch them doing something unbefitting-like sleeping apart. From day one, Ali’shir
felt as if the Elder already knew things were not what they seemed and he could
have not been more correct.
Fushel mentioned knowing Ali’shir
slept in the living space in talking with the Tu’shar. The male found it funny
more than anything else; the spats that happen between mated individuals amused
Fushel, but for the Lead Elder it was vital information. Tu’shar took it upon
himself to investigate before Joi’en did. He was glad his suspicions in this
instance were not true and he really did need the male’s help at the moment, so
the reasons for his visit weren’t totally unwarranted.
The son of Cad’lik, a visiting Lead
Elder, had gone missing, so had one of their cruisers. All able bodies were
needed to find him. Ali’shir immediately understood and moved from the bed to
dress; Isis followed him. Ali’shir didn’t stop
her at first because he knew she would help him get ready and he needed her
help because she had put everything away again and he did not know where. He did,
however, pause mid bend when he noticed she was dressing as well.
“What are you doing?” he
asked.
“I’m
going with you.”
Ali’shir shook his head. “You most
certainly are not.”
“Why?”
“Because Joi’en said you
are not allowed to hunt, remember?” he hushed.
“But this is not a hunt.
This is search and rescue.”
“Do you think he will
see the distinction?” He turned her round and sent her towards the bed with a
push. “Go back to sleep.”
Isis
went angrily, stalking naked past the Elder to flop down on the bed’s edge,
watching him as he strapped his amour to himself. Tu’shar casually leaned over
to Ali’shir. “What’s wrong with her?” he said, glancing in Isis’
direction. “If looks could kill, son, you would be dust.”
“She wants to go with
me,” he replied, closing his vest with a tug.
“She worries for you,”
Tu’shar said with relief, nodding with both understanding and approval. He
paused a moment and then patted Ali’shir’s shoulder. “Take the time to comfort
her,” he said. “Perhaps then she will not look at you like that.”
Ali’shir looked over to Isis. She gave him that look so often, he rarely noticed
anymore; it was almost common place. It was normalcy. “She will be fine,” he
said, turning back.
Tu’shar grabbed the stubborn male by
his amour and tossed him towards the female. “I am telling you to comfort your
mate, foolhardy boy,” he growled.
Tu’shar knew that look on Isis’ face. The last female Ali’shir chose as mate
perfected it and it was usually a warning before she did something stupid. The absolute
last thing Get’an’s Lead Elder needed was an irate human doing something
outrageous to show her displeasure among a his visitors, whose son he already
lost.
“Go comfort your mate,”
With a heavy sigh, Ali’shir eased
across the bed, taking Isis into his arms. She
struggled but he squeezed hard, forcing her to be still.
“What the hell are you
doing?”
“Play along,” Ali’shir
whispered, laying her down under him. “He thinks you are upset because I am
going to leave you.”
Isis
could not help but laugh at that. Ali’shir chuckled, too, but she realised he was
still quite serious. His hands undid her pants and began to push them down over
her hips. Isis thrashed and tried to unseat
him but Ali’shir was far too heavy. His fingers quickly the ties and clasps and
then ripped the bottoms off in one swoop. Isis
kicked at him as he lay atop her again, her eyes darting nervously between the
guards and Tu’shar. Only a few of them paid them any attention and Tu’shar was
too busy with his communicator, but that was a few too many.
“This is embarrassing,”
she hissed, pushing at his shoulders. “Let me just tell him I’m fine with you
leaving.”
Ali’shir shook his head. “He told me
to comfort you,” he said forcing her legs apart with his body. “Act like you
like it.”
One hand held her down by the neck
while the other smoothed over her legs, slowly travelling the length of them to
settle between her thighs. Mindful of his claws, Ali’shir slid his finger
between her lips, gently prodding for her entrance. Isis
whined as he pushed it inside, tears beading around her tightly shut eyes. Ali’shir
heard her sharply hissed utterances against him. She was in pain, not at all
ready for such an intrusion.
Ali’shir pulled out and Isis breathed. He took his finger to his mouth, pushing
it under his mask to wet them before replacing his hand between her legs.
Spreading his legs pushed hers further apart and his finger slid in with ease. Isis bit her lip as an unexpected jolt of pleasure shook
her. She grasped at his shoulders and he lifted his face to hers, watching her
expression soften as he slowly pushed in and out until she was dry. Ali’shir
licked his finger then, grunting huskily at the taste.
He rolled the tangy flavour in his
mouth as he pressed into her a second time, pushing until he felt resistance. Isis gave a strangled groan and held tighter to his arms,
her eyes rolling behind tightly shut lids. Ali’shir crushed her clit under his
thumb, twisting the kernel of flesh pleasurably in circles until her muscles
relaxed around his middle finger, sucking him deeper. They tugged at his finger
as he slid out, curling and twisting inside her as he went, her hips jerking
with every motion. Ali’shir smirked and brought his hand to his mouth again. If
she got this much pleasure from one finger, he could not wait to see how she
reacted to two.
He let his fingers go with a wet
smack and shunted inside her. Isis gasped and her
body lifted off the bed in a wave like motion, rippling under him. He pushed
forward and her leg curled around his waist. Her heel dug into the small of his
back as she pulled him closer, winding her hips against him, wanting more. The
roughly textured fingers dragged along that most sensitive bud, sliding
effortlessly inside her, stretching her with a wet sucking sound.
Ali’shir quickly released her throat
and fisted the covers at her side, grunting lowly. The thigh between his legs
moved, unintentionally stroking him. Each time he pressed into her she moved
her hips to accept and her thigh would press against the growing bulge between
his legs. Blood raced to his cock now, swelling it with painful ache. His
hardening flesh threatened to tear the seams of his cloth. Ali’shir plunged
forward again with a grunt and Isis arched
against him, lifting off the bed, crushing her breasts against him. Her hard nipples
scraped against his amour sparking white hot pulses through her. Holding
desperately to his shoulders, she ground against his thick fingers. Her
pleasure was cresting, creeping closer with frightening force until she could
not breathe. Her eyes flashed opened and Ali’shir was there to meet her. His
eyes, sitting in the window of his expressionless mask, bore down on her as he
rocked harder and harder inside her, fucking her senseless with his fingers.
Another wave of ecstasy crashed over
her and Isis moaned. She twisted the skin in
her hands and Ali’shir grabbed her breast, squeezing until her soft flesh
spilled from between his fingers. He held her roughly by it while she rode his
hand, undulating and bucking against him. She was about to cum. Her walls began
to clamp down on him and the bulge between his legs tightened. Suddenly he
wanted fill her with more than his fingers. He wanted to bury his cock inside
her and feel her tight body pulse around him as he brought her to orgasm,
milking his dick as he came, too.
Ali’shir slid his fingers from her and
tore her legs apart, wider. His hand held her down by the neck again as he
moved to knees, pulling off his belt with the other. Isis
gripped the hands that held her throat and watched the male tear at his
clothes. He was going to fuck her hard. Ali’shir was going to thrust the entire
length of him inside her until she tore and then-
“We are ready to move,”
Tu’shar announced, clearing his throat.
The Elder watched the couple from
the corner of his eye as he communicated with his waiting warriors. Ali’shir
removing his clothes was a step back. The pair was obviously on good terms
again and that was all he cared about.
“I said, we are ready to move,” he called again, stamping his foot.
Ali’shir’s hand fell away from her
throat and Isis sat up, covering her body. She
looked over his shoulder to Tu’shar and other males, surprised she forgot they
were there.
“I think he fell for
it,” she panted with a quick smile.
Ali’shir looked away and nodded, righting
his askew clothing. Isis helped him, taking up
the faceplate at her side. Ali’shir moved with her as she lifted off the bed,
her legs on either side of his as he pulled her to sit in his lap. She pressed
the metal against his face, shutting out his intense stare as she carefully
reattached it, twisting the tubes to the ports.
Her face nothing more than a
collection of warm coloured blotches, Ali’shir found he could move again.
Kindly he set her down from his legs and draped the bed sheets over her
shoulders as he backed away. The moment felt as he had stepped into a memory.
He had left Kai the exact same way many times, locks tussled, chest heaving,
body wrapped only in the sheet of the bed but never with a heart so heavy. It
seemed odd to him. He should have felt like that for Kaian, she was the love of
his life and Isis was just some nuisance he
had been saddled with. It should be the other way around.
Should
it not?
“Come, boy.” Tu’shar took
him by the shoulder, leading him to the door. “Now you have something to look
forward to when you return.”
“I doubt that,” he
muttered under his breath.
Elder Cad’lik’s son was found with
ease, but not returned with any. His defiance, even bound by his hands and
ankles made Ali’shir take notice. In the boy’s fiery amber eyes, he saw his own
head strong son.
Mara came to stand at his side. She
seemed to read his thoughts. “He is still there, waiting for you.”
“Then let him wait.”
She clicked her mandibles in
irritation, unable to comprehend his thinking. “Will you let your stubbornness
carry you too far again, Ali’shir?”
“I have enough on my
plate at the moment, Mara.”
“Swallow your pride for
once,” she said, walking away. “Or else you will have nothing to give you any.”
Long after Mara had gone, Ali’shir
stood alone in the massive hall. The Arbitrator’s words grated on his
conscious. They echoed in his mind, drowning out the roar and celebration of a
job well done. Both sounds only silenced when he pushed off the wall,
travelling to the lower levels in search of his son.
As the ship’s sole incarceration, he
was not hard to find. Several guards stood outside of it and parted when they
saw him approach. Knocking on the heavy stone door, Ali’shir was not at all
surprised to be greeted with silence. The tinkling of chains told him his son
was indeed inside and at the very least awake, if not listening.
It was uncomfortable and slow going
at first, talking with his son. Ali’shir wasn’t the talkative type, nor was his
son, but in the hopes of having him say something, a single word to acknowledge
him, Ali’shir rambled on, sharing his life as it was now.
He told his son about his students
and how they paled in comparison to his two beloved boys. The learning curve
was mighty steep but they were coming along with prodding. Yash’in laughed silently, knowing first hand what his
father meant by the word. His backside still bore scars.
“And this business with Isis is…. Well, it is what it is,” Ali’shir said finally.
“It is nothing like what I had with your mother. Nothing, but I am sure she has told you all about it herself.”
“She does not come to
see me anymore.”
Ali’shir fell silent, swallowing the
lump in his throat. It was the first time he heard the boy’s voice in years.
Ali’shir pressed against the door, his hands pressing flat against the surface.
“Has anyone been by to see you in a while?”
Ali’shir held his breath waiting for
a response but there was none, save the scraping of chains across the floor. Away from the door he grit angrily. His
hands balled into fists but he stopped himself short of beating on the door. He
could not force the boy to talk to him like that. Like him, Yash’in was
stubborn and set in his ways. In the end, Yash’in would ultimately have to come
to him but the hope of that day coming to pass no longer felt like a futile. Ali’shir
heard his son’s voice and the hope of hearing it again would bring him back
again and again. Mara was right. He was his father and he could not give up on
him just yet.
Ali’shir walked the ship after leaving
Yash’in’s cell. He had no destination in mind, just simply the desire to wander
like his thoughts. He entertained the idea of going home but Isis’
questions and undoubtedly angry disposition would burst his fragile joy hearing
his son’s voice brought. So he kept moving, climbing staircase after staircase
and patrolling hall after hall until he found himself entering the gymnasiums.
Walking the large and dark channel, he was surprised to see a light on in a
room in the hall’s end. He moved closer, hoping to see on of his lagging
students in a late night practice session but was surprised to see Isis.
From the shadow of the hall, he
watched for a moment, impressed with her skill. A’rah taught her well and she,
like a good student, seemed to remember it all. Except for one important thing.
She was working herself into a comfortable rhythm and the dummy quickly
assessed her pattern of attack. When she moved to strike it again, the machine
spun, knocking her across the cheek with its handless punch. She fell to the
ground, spurting blood and looked up to see him leaning in the doorway, his
arms folded and legs crossed.
Ali’shir expected her to rage at
him, not only for spying but for what Tu’shar made him do before, but Isis acted as if it never happened. She gave him that
same unimpressed look as she stood and rested her hands on her hips. She even
tried to strike up an argument with him. Business
as usual.
“Got something smart to
say?” she asked.
“Not at all,” he
replied. “I just forget you are capable of this at times.”
She smiled, licking the blood from
her lip. “Starting to regret picking on me then?” she asked.
Ali’shir’s chest bounced with his
laughter. “No. You are good, but you are not on my level, Isis.
I have nothing to worry about.”
“Oh really?” Isis walked to the rows of weapons on the wall and
plucked a staff for him, tossing it in his direction. He caught it with one
hand. “Show me what level you are on,”
she taunted.
Ali’shir spun the metal lazily in
his hand, walking to return it. “It would not be fair. You would not get a
single hit.”
“I’ve gotten more than
one hit on you before,” she said, reminding him of their first encounter.
“Who’s to say I cannot do it again?”
Dark laughter rolled from behind his
faceplate. “You really do not know
when to shut up, female.”
Isis
got her first lick in, cracking the small wooden staff across his metal cheek,
snapping his face to the right. She bounded back as he slowly turned his head
back, growling.
“Remember you asked for
this,” he warned, preparing to fight.
Tossing the amour from his shoulders, popping his mask from his face,
he crouched into position and flicked his hand at her to come forward.
The scrap slowly gained intensity. After a few more hits, Ali’shir was
incensed and fought her almost like he would any other challenger. He started
out slow and careful, mindful of her size, but with each stinging strike, his
anger rose and he gave a little more weight behind each blow.
He jabbed at her but she ducked. He swung at her and she twisted away.
She was ever mindful of the distance between them, careful not to be within his
reach but not too far for her strikes not to land. She struck at his legs,
sending him twisting to the ground but he was up in a beat. Backing up she drew
the line again and crouched into position.
“A’rah would always
do that,” he said, “Setting a ‘personal boundary’ she called it.”
“Well, she was my
teacher.”
“And it shows,” he
said, trashing at her again.
She ghosted out of his grasp but not so gracefully. She stumbled away and
he followed, swiping again. He caught her on her hand hard. Isis
winced but kept moving, taunting him.
“That has got to be the nicest thing you’ve ever
said to me,” she said, flexing her aching hand.
“Really now?”
She gave a short nod. “Even nicer
than you promising not to kill me.”
He laughed. A brash and genuine
sound that stunned Isis long enough for him to
strike her, coming down hard on her back with the stick. Panic spiked through
him as he saw her fall to one knee with a scream. He meant to hit her, but not
so hard. He could see the line across her back darkening and swelling.
Tossing the staff down he strode to
the kneeling woman and reached down. “Take my hand,” he said offering to help
her up.
Her hands grabbed at his and on
shaking legs she rose and then spun with his arm. She moved behind him, bending
the limb as she went. Her feet kicked at his back, directing him to the floor
under the threat of snapping the appendage in two.
“Clever,” he said,
flexing his arm. “But not at all wise.”
He ripped his forearm toward his
chest with strength, cinching her hand in the nook of his arm. Isis with all of her resisting weight came hurtling past
him and in one quick motion he moved with her, pinning her flat against the gym
wall. Panting, he pushed her higher, moving her so she was level with his flashing
silver eyes.
“You are too small to
use that move on me,” he said with a snicker.
“But if I was a male,
I’d have my foot in your ass right now,” she chuckled.
Her laugher unwittingly drew his
attention to her breasts. He watched the tight nipples poke at her top, rising
and falling with her panting, the swells he could see in the shirt made shiny
by her sweat.
“But you are not a male,” he breathed against her,
fighting the temptation to lick the salt from her skin.
Completely oblivious, Isis made a scoffing snort and shifted, planting her feet
against the wall to push off and Ali’shir groaned. The tiny movement wafted her scent all around
him. Fighting aroused her and moving between her legs, the scent became so
intense he could not help but lean closer. Isis
shifted again, not so oblivious to the tightening grip on her wrists. Her eyes
slid from her reddening hands to his bowed head moving closer to her chest.
“Ali, what are you
doing?”
“Someone approaches,” he
said thickly. “And there is only one reason mates come to sparring halls this
late and it is not to spar.”
“You’re full of it,” she
grumbled.
Ali’shir pressed his face between
her breasts and she sighed, bowing her body to accommodate him. “You hope I am
not,” he said, hinting at her reaction.
Isis
snapped at him, biting at him to get away. She did not want be forced in yet
another intimate situation with him. They could walk away before they were
seen. Despite the opinion of her body, she knew they did not need to do this.
She tried to wriggle away, but
Ali’shir tightened his grip on her hands with a hiss. Isis
hissed back, writhing harder but it only made him more aggressive and aroused. They
fell against the wall with a thump and Ali’shir forced her legs apart with his
waist, lying in the cradle of her legs, slowly winding his hips against her. He
ground his erection into her clit, rubbing his cloth against her until she whined,
arching her back off the wall with another hiss. Isis’
eyes lifted to the ceiling and he let her hands go; she stopped fighting him. Her
hips moved her aching sex back and forth over him. She took him by the thick of
his neck, steadying her trembling body against his crushing movement of his
hips.
He slammed into her and she took a sharp
breath, lifting her breasts against him, reminding him they where there. His
for the taking. Ali’shir ripped at her top with a growl. She gasped as he
brushed at her breast, slowly scraping his clothed mouth over her nipple. He bit
down with a moan and Isis whimpered. Her eyes
rolled and she cursed against him. She was close to coming again and Isis couldn’t have been angrier. This was what she feared,
the reason she did not want to start this. Ali’shir knew how to pleasure her, how
to own her body and turn it against her. He knew how to make her want what she
could not have.
Ali’shir undid his belt and then
raised her up, letting both his belt and cloth fall to his feet. He thrust her
against the wall with one hand and took his cock in the other, teasing,
prodding, sliding the head of his dick over her lips. Isis
pushed off the wall with a whine, rolling her hips toward him but he pushed her
back with a grunt. He kept teasing her, rubbing his cock against her clit until
she moaned pitifully. Until he could hear how ready she was and feel it wet his
fingertips. Ali’shir took his hand away and gripped her by her ass. He lifted
her again, sliding his thick and veined shaft over her a final time. With his
hips he pushed the tip to her opening, parting her lips with his cock, slowly
entering her.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,
but Elder Tu’shar has requested your presence.”
Ali’shir’s head rose, looking up at
Isis who stared down with mouth parted. “I told you,” he said, still rocking his
hips against her.
The asaegian cleared his throat
again, reminding the couple he was still waiting. Ali’shir growled at him to
wait outside. “My mate and I need a moment.”
Isis
found herself surprisingly hopeful he would continue but once they were alone
again, Ali’shir simply moved from between her legs, sliding her down to the
floor against his body. She caught herself lingering, resting against the
warmth of his broad chest and stepped away, covering her breasts with her arms.
Ali’shir looked up then and took his own step back, pulling his cloth from the
floor.
Ali’shir didn’t look back as he followed the young male servant and Isis had been watching. Fixing her top, she put his spear
back, cursing him as she went. She came here to work off the tension from their
first encounter and here he was stirring up even more. Asshole. She knew they were pretending, he told her so, but her
body was definitely confused about it. Horribly
confused. Isis took up her staff and
resumed fighting. She slammed into the dummy, wailing wildly at the downed lump
with excess force. She needed to burn away this unnatural feeling, this confusing feeling, before she saw him
again. Something was liable to happen if she did not.
“We are just
pretending,” she repeated with each strike. “He is just pretending.”
A/N: Sorry it took so long, I was away on a bit a business with limited
internet access (i.e. no smutty/adult sites). My lovely, lovely Beta (the über
talented MuseofScrolls) just rushed
this chapter through so I could post it.
Leafywing: Yes, it’s still there….
JJ: Glad you’re enjoying it and
I’m honoured you’ve bookmarked it.
Sagikamikazi: I’m afraid it only gets worse, lol. But I hope you
still enjoy it.
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