The Commander and the Chief

BY : Lursa_and_BeTor
Category: 1 through F > Andromeda
Dragon prints: 2467
Disclaimer: I do not own Andromeda, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Commander Harper groans and sits up. His trembling hands rise to unfasten the brace that surrounds his head. Oh. Man. The metal is uncomfortably warm, almost hot, but he isn't complaining. He drops it on the deck and begins fumbling with the heavy armor that covers his chest. He stares down at the black scorch marks, radiating across the metal chest plates. Both items are useless now but he can't complain. They had worked just as the High Guard had promised him with the armor absorbing most of the energy from Chief Rhade's weapons then routing the rest to the headpiece.

Harper leans back against the wall and allows the equipment to fall beside him. He tilts his head from side to side, slowing stretching his throat. "Geeze, what a pain in the neck!" Harper chuckles at his joke. What a relief to finally be out of the thing. The whole get-up was damned uncomfortable. The brace had drastically limited his range of moment and the matching armor…damn, that stuff was hot and heavy. If he survives this, he's gonna turn his attention to creating a more comfortable version of it. Certainly the tech is effective enough, witness his survival of Rhade's opportunistic assault, but it could stand improvement. It was always such a relief to return to his quarters and take the damn thing off at night. All these years, since assuming command, he'd worn the armor and never considered ways to improve it…one of the many High Guard things that he'd just accepted as a given. One of the known hazards of command, like working closely with Nietzscheans.

"And speaking of Neits…" Harper pushes up the hem of his sleeveless gold tee shirt. There is a pale pinkish blotch in the center of his chest. "I believe I owe a certain Nietzschean a…favor." He shoves the shirt back down.

His eyes widen as he notices a faint stirring in the air and feels the faint purring vibrations humming through the wall. Harper scrambles to his feet. "Well, this puts a different light on things. The ship is awake and under way. Bet the mutinous bastard hasn't noticed."

Possibly not. Rhade was in charge of planetary security. The Nietzschean might not have noticed the subtle changes or realized what they meant. Rhade had proved adept at weaponry and intimidation, but he lacked an engineer's intuitive feel for tech. Well, the Nietzschean can learn and that education is going to commence shortly if Harper has his way.

"Water under the bridge, huh bud?" Harper mutters to himself as he spots his gun on the deck and picks it up. He checks the charge and holsters it along his thigh. What had Hunt expected that wrist-slapping speech to accomplish? He hadn't liked some of the memories that Dylan Hunt's canned speech had raised, but the past is past. What was the phrase that the Übers quote? Guilt is a wasted emotion. Ain't that the truth? He never had been the man that Hunt assumed that he was.

He laughs softly. He likes this life. It's exciting and he has power aplenty. Power enough to take whatever he wants and do what he wants. The High Guard had carefully trained him to be a wilder, darker, and harder man than Hunt could ever imagine if the good Captain had designed that speech to break him. Forget Hunt. What is he going to do now? His situation isn't good…trapped on a ship with General Valentine's supporters and the murderous Chief. Ah. Yes. That'll work. "Oh, General, ma'am, this is Chief Rhade, he followed me home. If I promise to feed him, and clean up after him, can I keep him for a pet?"

Harper sniggers as he walks down the corridor. He can have ole Chief Rhade any way he damn well pleases. And the fun part? Well, the fun part is knowing that Rhade will not only do whatever he commands him, but will even beg for the privilege. Oh, man, the payback potential already has him hot and hard. This is gonna be sweet. Very sweet. "Ship. Andromeda."

An image shimmers into being in front of him. A slender, dark woman with large eyes and full lips. She frowns at him. "Commander Harper. What do you want?"

“I’m not sure I like your tone, Ship.” Harper frowns at the hologram.

“Your feelings are irreleva And Andromeda snaps. “Now, what do you want?”

"Why, to surrender, of course." Harper grins at the way her eyes widen. "Is that such a surprise?"

"I don’t believe you."

“Your belief is irrelevant.” Harper hides a sly smile as he parrots her earlier statement. He has his ancestor's looks and brains. Perhaps those qualities will incline the sho loo look on him with favor. "I do want to surrender. I’m willing to play with the other team. Is Captain Hunt still around? I'd like to surrender to him."

"Captain Hunt is no longer aboard the vessel."

Harper strides relentlessly forward. "Okay, so who's in charge? Certainly not you. Valentine? Is she still on board?"

"Yes, she is." The hologram holds up a hand. "You want to surrender? Why? What changed your mind?"

"What can I say? The dulcet tones of Captain Hunt convinced me. I'm a whole new Harper now. See? Look at me." Harper pivots slowly, allowing the hologram a good look at him. "You can tell if I'm lying. Am I lying?"

"You appear to be speaking truth." Andromeda tilts her head to one side as she stares suspiciously at him.

"Okay, all right." Harper smiles winningly. "Now let me talk to Valentine."

"General Valentine has agreed to see you in her conference room."

Hmmm. That was easy. Valentine must be eaten up with curiosity. Or looking forward to a good gloat. Well, he'd be the first to understand the pleasures of a good gloat. He won't begrudge her this one…much. Not knowing what's coming to her. Harper smirks. "Thanks, gorgeous. Inform the General that I'm on my way."

"Acknowledged."

***********************************************************************

Harper puts his feet up on the chair across from him and leans back. He stares down at his long time adversary lounging at the other end of the conference room table. It seems odd e sie sitting in the same room with Valentine. At the same time, it's kinda cool to be really face to face with her…breathing the same air, touching the same cool glass of the tabletop, and hearing the same creak of leather every time one of them shifts position. They've been adversaries for so long that he knows her as intimately as a friend or sibling. She isn't a woman to discard a game piece of his potential value lightly, but she is too shrewd to take his offer at face value either. He grins at her. "Come on, Valentine. You know you want me."

His insinuating tone wins him a sharp smack on the head from the guard behind him. Harper gives Valentine a reproachful look and rubs his head. "Ouch."

Valentine peers at him over the toes of her boots. Her full, red lips tilt in reluctant amusement. "And what do you get out this proposed arrangement?"

"The joy of being virtuous?"

She snorts. "Right. That always does it for me. Try again."

"What can I say? There's nothing I can tell you about my change of heart that will make yolievlieve me. Epiphanies don't come with certified, notarized certificates signed by three witnesses. Keep me or kill me." Harper rubs his nape. Being dead would be easier than living with some of mem memories that Hunt has so carelessly raked up. "Pick one."

"Both."

"What?"

"I pick both. For now, I'll keep you, but the second you betray me…" Valentine draws a finger across her throat.

"Deal." Harper nods amiably. "So what are my orders, General Valentine?"

"Pick out some quarters. Fetch your new pet."

"Oh?" Harper smiles at the thought of indulging himself with the darkly delicious Rhade. Oh, yeah. "You're gonna let me keep him?"

"He might prove ul, ul, for now." Valentine fingers one of the feathers dangling from her wild, red hair. She cocks her head, studying Harper. "At the very least, he can keep you busy and entertained during your leisure time. You may consider him your test subject to prove what you've told me about how High Guard Commanders control their Nietzschean crews."

"Prove to you?" Harper shakes his head. "I don't know about that, Valentine. Establishing true dominance over one takes time anconsconsistent pattern of behavior selected to engage the weak spot in Nietzschean design."

"And that flaw would be?"

Harper slyly studies her from under his lashes, anticipating her response. "Their sexuality."

Valentine drops her casual pose in her surprise. Her blue eyes widen. "You're kidding? Sex?"

Harper shrugs. "The High Guard has been looking for centuries for ways to contain and control Nietzscheans. They don't want Übers going over to the rebel side since the bulk of their military is Nietzschean-based."

"Yeah, so?"

"So…I'm sure you've noticed that High Guard Commanders are always human."

"Yeah. And that's significant because…" Valentine gestures impatiently.

"Because we've vulnerable, surrounded by mostly Nietzschean crews." Harper meets her gaze. Is she buying what he's selling? Too bad he will be long gone by the time the seeds that he's planting are bearing fruit.

"So what?" Valentine crosses her arms over her chest. "All High Guard captains are issued a chair and whip with their famous force lance?"

Harper chuckles. Close, but no cigar, General. "No, Valentine. But the High Guard gave us an edge, a way to control our crew."

"How does it work?" Valentine pours herself a glass of ice water. She leans back in her chair, watching Harper with open fascination as she sips.

"What's it worth to you?"

Beka pretends to think. "Oh, I don't know, Commander, how 'bout…your life?"

"Ah, yeah." Harper grins back, mirroring her sharp-edged smile. "There is that. The thing is…I don't have to control my entire crew myself any more than you do. I only have to have the complete loyalty of select Alphas to keep the rest in line."

"You're not telling me how you manage to do that." Beka sets her glass down with a thunk. "Stop with the evasions already."

"Why should I? You'll just use it yourself…or try to anyway." Harper smirks as he thinks of all the things that could go wrong. Like allh Guh Guard Commanders, he's been carefully trained and part of that training was a through education in Nietzschean psychology and sexuality. And then there were the other modifications…the cyborg strength that made him actually stronger than a Nietzschean and well able to hold his own in a physical confrontation with one…extensive command training…and the secret weapon, bioengineered glands that emitted pheromones that sank barbed hooks deep into a Nietzschean's subconscious, targeting the most primal part of their sex drive. All toys that Valentine had no access to.

"You can trust me." Beka smiles widely.

"Unlikely." Harper snorts. He considers Valentine a moment longer, gauging her level of interest. Oh, yes, indeehe hhe has the General's full attention. Those reports about her fascination with Nietzscheans must be accurate. He sighs and allows his shoulders to droop as if he is reluctantly giving him. Harper leans forward, lowering his voice. "Okay, fine. That raging libido of theirs is the key. Engage it, focus it, and channel it the right way and the selected Nietzschean is all yours."

"Is that it?" Valentine's eyes glow, bright and hot with speculation.

Harper shrugs. "For the most part."

"What's the catch?"

"Just a tiny one. You have to be consistent in reinforcing the behavior pattern once it's established. If you fail o tho that, things just go to hell in a bucket real fast." Harper frowns. If he can't find a way to break out in time and get back to his crew, he's gonna have a real mess to deal with when he gets back to his ship. Rhade will be enough under his influence to help with reestablishing his command…hmmm…how to add Rhade into his crew…ah, well, he'll come up with something. He always does. That's why he's the boy genius posterchild.

"And you can do this, with Rhade?" Valentine licks her lips.

"Of course, wouldn't be much of a Commander if I couldn't, would I?" Harper smirks.

"With any Nietzschean?"

"Basically." Harper squirms restlessly in his chair. He can almost feel that smooth honey gold skin under his hands. He's been hot to get his hands on Rhade from the moment he first saw the Chief. "That's simple Nietzscheans psychology."

"I never took Neit Psychology 101," Valentine snipes.

Oh, sensitive about a lack of formal training, are we? Harper hides a smirk and spreads his hands. "Point taken. Okay, look at some of their erotica. A typical scenario involves having someone with rank and power – a Commander, an Alpha – demanding their submission."

"That doesn't seem so difficult." Valentine stares suspiciously at him. "What are you not telling m
H
Harper laughs sharply. "Do you think I'm going to just give away my main bargaining chip?"

"Did I mention your life hanging in the balance?" Valentine leans forward, radiating quiet menace.

"Yeah, yeah, you mentioned it." A few dozen times. Harper rolls his eyes with exasperation. They both know she isn't going to do a thing until she has squeezed every advantage she can out of him. "But you're not going to kill me until you get all the instructions, now are you?"

"Don't be so sure about that."
Harper eyes Valentine's thoughtful expression. He'd bet that she has a specific subject in mind. He hadn't noticed any Übers with her so far…wait…she'd been talking to some of the Alphas who had united Prides strong enough to say no to joining the Commonwealth and make it stick. The two biggest leaders were Charlemagne Bolivar and Tyr Anasazi. Hmmm. Is she making plans for one or both? It would certainly beoon oon to the rebels to have either join their cause. Man. Wouldn't he like a front seat at that floorshow.

"How…how does it work?"

"Send me to Rhade and I'll give you a demonstration." Harper grins. Gotcha, General.

***********************************************************************

"Telemachus Rhade, I presume." Harper strides confidently into the room.

Chief turns, staring in shock at the small human. Strange how much smaller the other man looked without the added bulk of the armor…yet there's something about the way that the black sleeveless shirt clings to the muscular chest…the luminous paleness of the human's skgaingainst the black fabric. Rhade shakes his head sharply. Why is he thinking about the human's body instead of the amazing fact that the Commander somehow managed to survive his first attack. Strange. "Harper?"

The blue eyes sparkle with temper as the human stalks closer. "You forget yourself, Rhade. You will still refer to me as Commander. You didn't think it would be that easy, did you? To order Andromeda to self-destruct? Or to kill me?"

Rhade belatedly brings his force lance up. The fierceness of that blue gaze sends a shiver down his spine. He inhales deeply. The human smells so good. Why has he never noticed before how luscious the human is with those dangerous eyes and that creamy pale skin that suddenly makes him think of eatable things…the smoothness of ice cream, the lush inner flesh of bananas, the sweet texture of white chocolate melting on his tongue. "Commander? How?"

"I will tolerate no questions from you, Traitor!" Harper strikes the Nietzschean. The sound of his closed fist hitting Rhade's cheek is loud in the room.

Rhade gasps as his head turns with the strike. He licks his lips, tasting blood. The Commander had never hit him so hard before and never with a bare fist. The other times that the human had hit had been taunting, teasing…enough to stir him, but not hard enough to push him into full arousal. This time his cock is swelling hot and full. He turns back to the human with a growl only to get hit again. Harder. He freezes, caught in conflicting needs. He wants to kill the human. No, he wants to fuck the Commander. No. He wants the Commander to fuck him. "Commander…How dare you!"

"How dare I what?" Harper snarls. "Did you have something to say?"

"Commander…I…I…" Rhade stammers. What's wrong with him? Why can't he think? Why is he suddenly reduced to sensation? He sways closer. The Commander smells so tempting, so provocative…so good.

"You what?" Harper jerks the force lance from the Nietzschean's unresisting hande tue turns it off and circles Rhade, tapping the lance against his thigh. "It's an insult to assume that I would be so easy. Is that what you meant?"

"No, Commander," Rhade lowers his gaze. He can't remember what he meant any more. All he can think of is how much he aches…needs. "Of course not."

"Then what did you mean, Nietzschean?" Harper demands, pausing in front of Rhade. He taps the force lance against his open palm.

"I meant no insult, Commander." Rhade's voice is deeper and rougher than usual. He dares a quick, yearning glance at the human and then drops his gaze again.

"Oh, really? I seem to recall being called weak." Harper strikes the Nietzschean with the force lance. "Does that feel weak to you?"

"No, Commander," Rhade murmurs hoarsely as the tip of his own force lance moves down his bruised cheek and comes to rest against the rapid pulse beating in his throat. He licks his lips. He wants to feel that delicious looking skin against his, to taste it on his tongue. When will the Commander touch him?

"You think I'm weak? You think I'm easy?" Harper leans closer so that his breath ghosts soft and sweet over Rhade's cheek.

"No."

"You were wrong. Admit it." Harper moves to stand behind the Nietzschean. He presses the force lance against Rhade's spine while sliding his free hand around the narrow waist and down to fill his palm with the swollen thickness filling the front of Rhade's trousers.

"I…I can't." Rhade pants. His hips press helplessly into the human's exploring hand. He sways, dizzy with the need for more. He is vividlyre ore of the Commander standing so close behind. He can almost feel the coolness of the slim body. He wants…wants to rip off his clothes…he wants to feel the Commander. No. Yes. Yes. Please. Please.

"You can and you will, Rhade." Harper presses the length of his body against the Nietzschean. "Perhaps it is you who is weak. Are you weak, Rhade?"

"NO!" Rhade shudders, his outrage at the insult diluted by the sweet pressure of the Commander's body against his. His hips shift eagerly in response to the promise of the thick cock nudging his ass.

"Oh, yes…you are weak. I seem to have struck pay dirt." Harper laughs softly.

Rhade squeezes his eyes closed against the temptation of that breathless laugh. He is Alpha. He will not yield to this witchery. He is Alpha. He controls. He rules his mind and body. Not the human. "Take your hands off me."

"You are in no position to demand anything." Harper purrs. He curls his hand around the heavy cock, caressing his prize. "Now admit your error. If you don't I will be forced to punish you.

"Punish me?" Rhade's eyes snap open. No. He is Alpha. He will not yield to this Commander…this human Commander…ah, ah…he gasps as the cool hand strokes him knowingly…not this Commander, but his…his Commander…he is aware of the sound of his breathing…so heavy and deep as if he had just run a hard race. "What will you do to punish me?"

"I will give you what you want…or is it what you fear?"

Fear? He is Alpha…he does not…does not…how can he think with sly stroking gliding over his cock in the perfect rhythm. He stares down at the strong hand, so pale against the black fabric of his uniform pants…but, yes, he is afraid…afraid of the effortless way that Harper disrupts his thoughts and shatters his will with sensuality. Yet he longs for it, needs it. Needs more. "What do you mean? I'm not afraid of you."

"Oh, I think you are…or you should be." Harper nuzzles the fabric covering Rhade's back. Only one layer of fabric between him and that honey skin. He tightens his grip on the hard cock quivering with eagerness at his every stroke.

"Command Rh Rhade growls throatily. "I will not submit."

Harper chuckles. "I was wrong. You are not weak. You're stupid."

"How dare you!" Rhade arches into the stroking hand.

"Much better." Harper smiles at the low, disappointed moan that escapes the Nietzschean as he slides away and steps back. He circles around to face Rhade, stroking his fingers over the elegant curve of the Nietzschean's cheek. "There's that Nietzschean fire that you are all so famous for."

"You will pay for this, human." Rhade warns huskily as he stares down into the pale face. His gaze drops hungrily to the taunting smile edging the human's mouth.

"I'm not the one who will pay." Harper trails his fingertips over the line of Rhade's jaw. "Tell me, Rhade, what do people who are not weak, do when they see something they want, Rhade? Hmmm?"

"Umm…ahh…" Rhade breathes in, filling his lungs with the human's scent. He wants more. He wants the human closer. His whole awareness is focused on the cool fingers grazing his skin…so close to his mouth…dare he risk a taste…just a taste…a tiny taste.

"Answer me, Nietzschean!"

"They take." Rhade cautiously turns his head, brushing his lips against the inquisitive fingers. He touches the tip of his tongue to the human's skin, tasting salt and…something else…something that tastes as exciting as Harper's scent. Something that he wants more of…something that he needs more of.

"Well, well, well. A correct answer, for once." Harper drops his hand to yanks the hidden fastenings of the Nietzschean's black tunic loose. He uses the deadly tip of the force lance to push first one side, then the other side of fabric across the smooth plains of Rhade's chest and off the Nietzschean's wide shoulders. The tunic falls into a puddle of black on the floor. Oh, man. What a chest. Harper stares at the golden bronze contours. His mouth waters to suck on the perfect bronze beads of the Nietzschean's nipples. Already so drawn so tight and high and he hadn't even really touched the Nietzschean yet. Oh. Man. This is gonna be good. Test.est. All this and the knowledge that Valentine is watching them. Oh, yeah. Bet the great General is all wet right now. Oh, yeah.

"I suppose you think that a right answer should get you a reward." Harper walks around to stare greedily at the bare lines of Rhade's back. He smiles as his gaze drops to the fluttering bone blades. Gotcha, Chief Hot Stuff. Hmmm. Nice ass. Real nice. "Is that what you think, Rhade? Do you think you should get a reward?"

"What I think is irrelevant. That is the Commander's decision."

"Another right answer. You're surprising me here, Rhade." Harper draws the tip of the force lance down the line of Rhade's spine, stopping at the waistline of the tight black pants. "The Commander's decision is…that you owe me for trying to kill me. What are you gonna do to make that up to me, Rhade? Hmmm?"

"What would you have of me?" Rhade cannot hold back a low moan as the human presses close, grinding an impressively large and hard cock against his ass. His hips tilt back, seeking more. He can feel the soft fabric of the human's shirt against his bare skin. He wants it gone. He wants to feel the Commander's bare skin on his. He needs it but even as he presses back more firmly, the human steps away. "Commander?"
"Strip."

"How does the Commander want me?" Rhade ahoarhoarsely, daring a quick glance over his shoulder. He may be Alpha but he cannot hold out against the human's enticements. He burns with need. Yes. This human is worthy. Worthy to command him.

"That's more like it." Harper steps back into the shadows and leans against the wall, watching. "I want you naked. Clothes off!"

Rhade hastily removes his boots and socks, tossing them carelessly away. He turns to face the human standing in the shadows. His hands drop to his waist and he carefully lowers the zipper, freeing his cock. He slides his pants down and steps out of them. Does he please his Commander? His head tilts at the muffled sound of a throaty moan. Yes. He licks his lips and shifts his hips restlessly in response to the heavy tension building in his thighs. "How can I please you, Commander?"

"Turn around. On your hands and knees, Über."

Rhade shivers with need as he obeys the raspy order. The carpet is rough under his palms and knees. His skin feels light and sensitive all over…hungry for his Commander's touch. Will the Commander give him the privilege of skin to skin now? His head lifts hopefully as the soft sounds coming from behind him. That's the sound of bare feet on carpet, not boots.

Rhade shudders as he feels the skin of his Commander's hard thighs brushing against his own. The Commander feels so wonderfully cool yet strong. His entire attention is focused on the cool hands sliding up his thighs, roughly pressing his thighs wider, forcing him to slide lower. His whole body tenses in anticipation, in need. "Please. Please."

"This is about pleasing me, Rhade. Not you. Your pleasure waits on my permission. You got that?" The voice is as hard and demanding as the thick cock nuzzling his cleft. Rhade looks over his shoulder at the pale form kneeling behind. His Commander's body is pleasingly lithe and well portioned. Will he be allowed to freely touch and taste the pale peach nipples and the creamy skin if he satisfies his Commander? "Yes. I understand. Use me as it pleases you, Commander."

Harper grins, as he looks down at the powerful body, now meek and acquiescent. This was the best part…the part that gave him the biggest rush…the moment when a beautiful and oh-so dangerous Über became pliant and yielding in his hands. It didn't last, but that was what kept the game exciting…having to demand and win that submission over and over, knowing that if he slips just once…his wild grin deepens as he slowly spreads Rhade's pale gold cheeks wide.

Time to introduce, his new Nietzschean to another Harper secret weapon. This is his next favorite moment when his new conquest first discovers exactly how big he is. It was always quite a surprise for them. He positions himself, watching as his own rosy cock, glistening with lube, eases slowly inside.

"Commander…please." Rhade pants, squeezing his eyes shut to better experience the sensation as his Commander claims him for the first time. The Commander's cock is so thick…the feeling off being spread wide is almost too much, too intense yet he must have it. He must have all of his Commander…every inch. "Oh, yes. Please."

"That's it. Take me deeper, Rhade." Harper fights the urge to plunge into that velvet tightness. It's hard to hold back, to ease gently into the wonderful heat of Rhade's body. Deeper. Deeper. Deeper. And deeper yet he pushes, smiling at the Nietzschean's hoarse growls…at the sensually pleading note in the rough noise as he finally eases all the way inside. He caresses the golden back soothingly. "That's so good."

Harper forces himself to stillness, waiting for signs that Rhade has adjusted, waiting until the soft pants yield to moans and the carefully stillness of the muscular body beneath himns tns to needy pushes back against him. Hewly wly withdraws, almost all the way and pours more lube over his swollen cock. He begins thrusting; biting his lip at the sexy slick, wet sounds. Harper stares down, entranced at the vision of his cock moving relentlessly in and out. This is too good. He can't last much longer. He throws back his head, increasing hiythmythm. Is Valentine enjoying watching as much as he's enjoying doing?

"Oh, yes, Rhade. Move with me." Harper moans as he clutches the pale golden flanks as he surges inside. He's almost gone. But he wants Rhade to go first. He slides a hand down to gather up the hard cock and begins roughly pumping in time to his thrusts.

"Commander! More! Moorrree!" Rhade presses back, squirming with need.

"That's a good Nietzschean, Rhade." Harper grins at the Nietzschean's desperate noises as Rhade tilts helplessly back into his increasingly hard thrusts and forward into the skillful caress of his hands. The Nietzschean can't last much longer. Ahh-ha! Hot dampness spreads over his hand and Rhade collapses, crying out beneath him. Harper thrusts once more, hard and deep, spilling himself inside the wonderful tightness clinging to him. He rests, panting against Rhade's sweat slick back. Oh, man. That was good. The best.

***********************************************************************

"Ooooooooh. Yeah…ummmm…" Beka Valentine thrashes wildly on her bed, lifting her hips and pressing her dildo deeper as she watches the images on the huge screen that fills the entire wall with Harper and Rhade. Watching the powerful flex of the Commander's muscled hips as he thrust again and again into the Nietzschean's ass has made her hungry for more. She relaxes, panting against the pile of silk pillows. Her thighs press close, holding the dildo pressed satisfying inside as she considers.

Harper is definitely going to be an asset to her crew if a rather dangerous one but danger only added spice to things. Besides he will make a perfect advisor if…when she has her next meeting with the united prides. The only question is who to meet with first…Jaguar or Kodiak?

THE END


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