A Soldier For All Seasons Ch. 19

Ana whooped with joy as they left Mal Fortoros, the ship swooping up high above the planet at high speeds, Cora in command.

She watched Cora input a route, then she double-checked it. And triple-checked it. Could they do an orbital swing off of the ice planet Phellos? Probably not, they had ice storms. She sighed.

"Easy, girl." Cora laughed. "It's a long trip, don't get too excited."

"I can't help it." Ana sighed, twirling in place, hands coming to catch the hem of her rising skirt. "It's been so long, I can't wait to see him. What do you think I should wear? Obviously I need to look sexy for him, but he wouldn't want his colleagues thinking I look like a whore, right? Or would he enjoy that?" She hummed.

"I think," Cora said gently, patting her shoulders. "That he'll be so happy to see you that he won't care what you look like."

"Yeah, but presents are better when they're wrapped, right?" Ana grabbed her hand and pulled her to the mirror. "I think I should wear underwear, because he likes to see me in lingerie. But if I wear lingerie, well, they'd end up, well, not d..." She trailed off, darting a shy look at Cora.

"Really, you're still trying to be demure around me?" Cora pinched Ana's side. "Do you know what I have to put up with at night?"

"I said I was sorry." Ana glowered, cheeks red.

"You were full on fingering—"

"Don't say that! I was sleeping!"

"You were like two digits deep."

"I was dreaming!"

"You were digging for oil."

"Cora!"

"Princess!"

They burst into laughter, leaning on each other, jutting elbows into hips.

"You're so annoying." Ana recovered.

"You're so freaky."

Ana sniffed, but she was smiling. She pulled off her clothes and tried on a gauzy black negligee that framed her breasts. She turned and posed in the mirror, cocking her hip, stretching out a long leg, blowing kisses.

"Can't go wrong with black." Cora said. "It looks really good against your skin."

"I think a negligee is right. Nate wouldn't want something he has to dig to get into, you know?"

"He'll tear it off." Cora grinned.

"Honestly, he likes me to keep it on," Ana rolled her eyes fondly. "He likes to ruin them with his you know, he's such a perv."

Cora ran her hand up Ana's leg, marvelling at the creamy softness. Ana shivered and pushed her away, laughing.

"Really?" Cora looked on with wide eyes. "That does it for you?"

"I'm so sensitive now." Ana confided. "I'll just get a stiff breeze and I'm, well, I don't want to say."

Cora snorted. Ana pulled off the negligee in one smooth move and tossed it at Cora. "Come on, try it on while I get the red one. I bet you'll look gorgeous."

"I don't know..." Cora held the fabric up uncertainly.

"Come on! I think your pink hair with the black fabric, it'll be stunning."

"Okay, okay." Cora stripped off slowly, turning her back to Ana. She took a deep breath and pulled on the negligee. She stood awkwardly in the mirror.

From behind, Ana's arms slipped around her waist, head on her shoulder as she looked on encouragingly. "You look—"

Cora burst into tears, face scrunching up. Her eyes rimmed red as she threw herself onto the bed, away from the painful vision in the mirror.

Ana bit her lip and followed, holding down Cora's agitated limbs and cuddling in close. She spooned the distraught girl, entwining her until the tears stopped.

Sobs turned to sniffles. Ana just held her, murmuring apologies.

"I'm sorry." Ana told her.

Cora took deep shuddering breaths, swallowing emotions. "When I was young," She croaked, her voice quaking. "I hated the pretty girls. Hated the ones that were free, innocent and lovely, smiling in their ignorance. I even hated the whores Naru Pelar kept around, the ones that smiled their way to an easy day. They were gorgeous and loved, a sick kind of love, but a love nonetheless. They weren't used and abused like my mother. She wasn't pretty enough to be loved."

"Cora..." Ana started.

"I hated their happiness, hated their confidence." Cora shook her head. "Then I became older, smarter. Realized I hated myself, not them. But how selfish was it to hate myself, when Mama had gone through so much hardship just for me, had whored herself out to every scum-sucker on the planet? I couldn't do it."

Ana gripped her tighter, thumbs circling patterns on her chest.

"So I wasn't ugly. I was a powerful blade, beauty was irrelevant. I wasn't a freak, I was cool, like the animated heroes on the holoshows. I was powerful, stronger. Not like those stupid girls with their stupid smiles, with their perfume and their boys and their constant stupid chatter. I was experienced, gifted, streetwise. I knew the way of the world. I'd lived it, I'd done missions, I'd taken lives. Who cared what I look like?"

Ana stroked her hair as Cora laughed bitterly.

"And then I met you." Cora said.

Ana stilled.

"Cora, I've never tried—"

"Shut up." Cora giggled, wiping her eyes. "You were everything I wanted to hate. You were rich and privileged and the most gorgeous fucking thing. And Nate clearly loves you, even if he's too much of a guy to say it. And you're so lucky. And even though you're lucky, you're never mean, never flaunt it, never belittle. You try and build me up."

Ana squeezed her tighter, misty-eyed. "Because you're good and kind and a fighter."

Cora turned in her grip, facing her with vulnerable eyes. The intimate silence stretched as they nestled their foreheads together.

"And you s-showed me..." Cora's voice cracked. "That I can be you without losing me. That I can honor Mama's sacrifice without becoming weak. I can get the revenge I need and become the person I want to be. That I don't have to be defined by my eyeballs, my cybermods, my replacement organs, my adreno-injectors." Cora grasped for her hands, brought them between them, squeezed them tight, stared deep into her eyes.

"Ana, it's true, right? I can be like you."

Ana swallowed. "You can."

Cora wept. "Please. Help me. But I don't want to be his charity case, I don't want him to pity fuck me, I don't want to take him, not like they took Mama, not like they hurt—"

"Ssh." Ana pressed a finger to her lips. "Nobody's going to hurt you. Nate won't touch you, sweetheart. But if we're going to do this, you need to do something for me, okay?"

"Anything." Cora said, her eyes mad and gleaming.

***

Nate bounced his foot, watching the skies, looking for that tell-tale sign of a ship burning out of the atmosphere. Ant-like ships flickered through, little black dots that slowly took shape, visitors for their first off-day. The bitter cold wind bit at them, but nobody paid them any attention.

Their necks craned from staring up.

"Got a visitor, Bastian?"

Bastian grinned, clapping his shoulder. "My lady and our new baby girl. She was just born before I left, she barely knows her Daddy, I gotta make the most of today before she's a Mama's girl."

"Clancy is still a Mama's girl and he's got one foot in the grave." Graziano cracked, crossing his arms as he stared up.

A litany of laughter met his joke. Nate smiled, despite himself. He couldn't get mad. Not today.

Ana was coming.

Beside them, Lunar was doing darting and sprinting exercises in the heavy snow — they'd failed their last skirmish by trudging endlessly in a blizzard, lost, slow and stupid. It hadn't been a good look. The other team had stolen their flag, taken it back to their own base and then been tasked with finding Nate and his team before they froze to death.

"How about you, Graz?" Hakeem hugged himself theatrically. "I gots me my girl to warm me up."

"No girl." Graziano muttered. "Just my Uncle."

They all murmured as one. The Graziano family weren't one to mess around with.

"Even I've got a girl coming." Lita jabbed, but she said it quietly. Graz looked too morose.

"Whoa, now that's a ship."

Nate snapped his head up so fast he heard his neck crack.

That's our girl. Isabelle said.

And so it was. The tell-tale white — no red stripe down the center to denote royalty but it was too clean, the white too pure. It could only be Ana.

Nate shifted from foot to foot as it settled, kicking up a spray of white powder. He was nervous. Why was he nervous? It was Ana, back for him. Would she have changed? Would she have forgotten him? Would she still love him? They'd not been apart since they'd met, not properly.

The ramp opened.

And there she was, a silly winter fur hat sitting jauntily on her head, black, ear flaps and all. She was adorable. A tan trench coat, down to...bare feet? She wiped her hands on her hips, scanning the crowd on her tip toes, searching for him, biting her lip.

The crowd murmured, staring at the beautiful girl.

And then she saw him.

She smiled, wide and beaming. "Nate!" She screamed with glee, tearing down the ramp, stumbling into the snow but not letting it stop her. She clipped into Xavier, richocheted off Rivero and skipped her way towards him.

Her eyes were wet.

"Ana," He muttered to himself, the grin on his face almost painful. Should he kiss her? Were they a secret? Maybe he should just hug—

But then she was there, jumping onto him, wrapping her legs around him, and he had to hold her up as she smashed her face onto his, kissing him with all that she had.

"Mmm," She whimpered, arching her whole body, hands dancing across his face. "Missed—" She kissed his face. "You—" Bit his lip. "Sooo—" Swirled tongues. "Much!"

Distantly, he was aware his hands had dropped to her ass, the crowd abuzz with gossip. But he didn't care.

He palmed her face, rubbed his thumb on her lips, felt his heart catch at her lopsided smile, her silly hat tilted, her breath like mist in the cold, her lips even redder than normal, her dimples wide with her smile. For a long moment, he just stared at her dumbly.

"Did you miss me?" She fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly.

Nate knew that his words would fail him, that he couldn't capture everything he'd been through, how ardently he'd ached for. He wished for a moment that he was a wordsmith and not just an idiot with a gun.

"Ana," He started. She kissed his thumb on her lips. "I never want to let you go again."

Whatever he'd said, it was the right thing, for she lit up brighter than the sun's blinding reflection on the snow. And she kissed him like she was home.

Someone cleared their throat.

Nate blinked.

Bastian. Right.

"Ana, this is Bastian, my teammate and friend. Everyone, this is Ana, my—" Ana turned to him, smiling. Distantly, he registered Cora just behind her, looking anxious. "My Ana." He finished.

Bastian rubbed his hands on his pant legs. "I-uh, so honored to meet you, Princess Anariel, I'm so sorry, I don't know the proper—"

"Oh, don't be silly." Ana waved him off. She bounced into him and kissed him on the cheek. "Hi Bastian! Nate's friends are my friends. I'm just Ana. It's so nice to meet you, has Nate been behaving himself?"

"Oh, yes, I mean."

"Good." Ana looked back at him over her shoulder, mischief in her eyes. "He's a bad boy, I'm afraid, and I'm ever the helpless good girl trying to reform him. Life's such a cliche, no? Oh, hello!"

She registered Graziano, who was rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'm Graz. I mean Graziano. It's an honor, Princess, my family, the Graziano's, we'd like to pay our proper respects—"

"Hi Graz!" Ana chirped, kissing his cheek. "I love your hair, I know your family. Your great-grandfather married a Lunari, right?" She grinned, leaning closer. "I still remember the controversy. I know some lovely girls if you ever want to follow in his footsteps."

Nate just stood back, a lightness in his chest, watching his girl go and do her thing, watching her chat and charm Hakeem and Lita. It was easy to forget sometimes that she was a Princess. She could schmooze, she could enchant. Of course she could. He waved hi to Cora, who was standing awkwardly around them, and took in Xavier's scowling face far behind him.

Hah. Suck on that, fuckface. Nate thought childishly.

Yes! Look at his jealous ugly mug. Isabelle crowed. She'd not taken it well when Xavier sabotaged his last obstacle course run.

"I am Lunar Moon, daughter of Brightest Moon." Lunar declared, bowing deeply. "I should have known that Nathan Clancy would have such a worthy mate, of deep renown. Even the Mediator's know of your Mother's prowess in battle and tactical mind."

Ana's smile flickered briefly. "Greetings, Lunar Moon. May your blade find blood and your battle know no end."

Lunar barked laughter. "Ah, you even know our ways. I hope your presence and encouragement shall improve Nate's lacking battle performance, such that he may show the worth he has proven outside of this battlefield."

Ana glanced back at him, and in her warm gaze there was a touch of concern. Nate felt ashamed for a moment. He was letting her down. But her eyes held no judgment.

"That's why I'm here." Ana declared. "Sometimes a man just needs a beautiful woman to tell him he's worth it, huh?"

"And you are a woman of unparalleled beauty." Lunar said plainly.

"You're so gorgeous yourself." Ana lit up. "I love your wings. And your battle-skirt — forgive me, I know it's for battle rather than beauty, but it really accentuates your legs, they're so long and toned, I can really tell you train so hard—"

"Ana, sweetheart." Nate interrupted. They'd be here forever if he didn't.

"Oh, sorry." Ana giggled. She leaned forward and whispered something to Lunar. Nate thought he caught the word mating before she was hooking her arm through his and tugging him back into the camp buildings. "Show me somewhere private, Captain?" She laid her header on his shoulder, blinking up at him.

Nate felt his pants tighten.

Thankfully, he'd found such a room, knowing he'd need it. He'd been planning this for weeks, stolen bedding from a supply closet when it was his turn to do the chores on the rota. Stolen candles from a maintenance room, a failsafe in case their generators failed.

He'd even hung one of their red training bibs over the small window that opened onto the bare wall of another camp building, giving the little light that shone through a gauzy romantic view. In the dark room, shimmering with candles, it was the closest thing to romance he could conjure.

The room was small, probably intended to house an office for a senior official who'd not liked the room and complained.

Ana squealed with glee as she followed behind him. "Oh, Nate!"

"Not bad, huh?" Nate turned to see Cora slip in behind them. "Oh." His smile dropped. "Cora, how you've been? Sorry, I barely got to say hi." He said politely. Why was she here?

Ana giggled as Cora made to reply. "Just ignore her, baby." She dropped to her knees, fiddling with his pants. "I've waited so long for this."

"But, Ana!" Nate gasped out as she nuzzled his cock. "She's—"

Cora stared on with wide unblinking eyes, not meeting his gaze.

"She's just — mmm, yes — going to watch. Pretend she's not there."

Nate's hand automatically dropped to her head. "But Ana, she's—"

"Sssh." Ana swallowed one of his large balls, and it felt like a long ache was finally soothed as she swirled her tongue around and nursed them, feeling the shocking heat inside his balls of the vast load that he was going to unload within her. One hand slowly stroked his cock, the other gently massaging the testicle that she wasn't worshipping. "Baby, your adoring girlfriend is going to suck you dry. I'm so wet for you."

She stood up abruptly and whipped off her trench coat. She revealed a vast expanse of milky creamy skin, pale and begging to be besmirched, all teasingly adorned by a naughty black negligee that barely reached her thigh. Up top, her breasts spilled out of it, and his hands reached for them without thinking. Ana covered his hand as he covered her breast, squeezing, palming, groping.

"I'm all yours, Nate." Ana murmured. "Trust me, you're not going to be thinking about Cora."

Nate just nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"May I pleasure you?" She asked him, wetting her lips.

"Yes."

This time, she led him backwards so he was laying back in the mass of blankets and bedding he'd arraigned on the floor. She fluffed his pillow, never letting a hand leave his skin.

"This is not how I imagined this." Nate admitted.

Ana dropped a kiss to his thigh, holding both of his hands, feeling their intimate connection, that unspoken bond. "Your pleasure is my pleasure, silly." She told him.

She held his hands as she swallowed him, reacquainting herself with his challenging member, letting his thick head explore her mouth, her taste buds. And then, more of his shaft down his throat, as his hands squeezed hers. Her tongue trailed his veins. She made sure her eyes stayed on him, even as she descended.

The perfect blowjob. She'd studied it, wanting to please him. Sloppy, noisy, eye contact — but the lessons trailed away in the face of the real thing. Love, that was all it took, and love she had in spades.

They were the perfect match, the perfect fit. But nobody as virile as Nate could be taken easy, she decided, never taken for granted. She gurgled, whimpering as his pelvis came closer. She slobbered, making his cock nice and wet. His taste was musky, masculine, eager.

A lance of precum shot out, hot and thick and divine. She drank it down, moaned, feeling her throat contract to fit his cock, to milk it, even if, by way of contradiction, he became easier to suckle on. So much cum and that enchanting fog of lust and submission descended.

Nate stared down at her, masterful and manly, his hand commanding on her head, even as his thumb stroked her hair, his mouth parted in passion.

She wanted to show him, show him how she'd missed him, show him the depths of her ardor, her need, that constant ache, the loneliness at night, the way she moaned his name at night, fingered her traitorous pussy, mauled her own breasts, squeezed a pillow between his leg, dribbled into her own pillow. The way she dripped down her thighs when she thought of him.

And so she did. Sucked hard, whimpered, gagged, bobbed, used the firm grip of his hands to pull herself down, kissing the skin of his crotch before withdrawing completely, letting him see the strands of cum-saliva connecting them before drawing them into her mouth, her stung puffy lips smiling as his cock throbbed, precum shooting onto her lips.

She thwapped his cock around her face, letting herself anoint herself in his seed. Yes. This was right. She was his priestess, his Princess, his slutty submissive desperate loving Princess. And if she was the Princess, what was he? More than a Prince. Not a King, for that implied a Queen, and if she was his Princess, then who was his Queen?

No, he was more.

But what?

"Nate." She babbled mindlessly, tongue darting out to clean his cock, to encourage even more of his liquid pleasure. "Nate, Nate, Nate—"

Somehow, he was on the same wave length, understood her lustful madness. He gathered her long blonde tresses in one hand, used them to push her deep down, letting her bob up and down, enjoying her warm wet mouth.

Under her ministrations, with the months of denied pleasure, he couldn't stop himself.

"Ana!" He called out, feeling the throb, that delicious point of no return.

"Onnnmythfayche—" Ana gurgled around his cock, eyes imploring, begging. Nate growled, eager to bury himself down her throat, but he acceded, letting her push down his thighs to withdraw, to lap at his precum, to jack his cock with eager hands, to knead his balls.