The Xillian Trilogy (The Xillian Rebellion)

by Maia Tanith

  He licks me again and pushes the tip of his raspy tongue inside me.

  As I open my mouth to scream again, he nudges his cock towards me. I take the tip of it into my mouth and suck on it. Salty, with a faint tang of sweet-smelling soap.

  Hs clamps his mouth on my clit as I suck on him, drawing him further and further into my mouth with every pull. I want to take all of him.

  His fingers pull the folds of skin hiding my pussy apart. The tip of one finger enters me, stretching my walls apart.

  I suck on him in a frenzy now. I want more. Need more.

  He pushes his finger inside me, all the way to the knuckles. If my mouth wasn’t so full, I would scream again, but the most I can manage is a muffled groan deep in my throat.

  He is fucking me with his finger now and I am sucking him as hard as I can. His cock is impossibly large in my mouth, engorged with blood and excitement.

  One long slow push of his finger inside me and I can’t hold out any longer. My pussy convulses and an orgasm bursts out of every pore of my body, I am drowning in pleasure. Sheer, mindless pleasure.

  When my pussy finally stops throbbing, he slides his finger out and withdraws his cock from my now slack mouth.

  I eye his impressive length. “I can do something about that for you,” I offer, reaching out for it with one hand.

  “I’m quite sure you can,” he murmurs. Then he flips me over on to my stomach and pulls me up onto my hands and knees.

  My backside is pointed firmly in the air. I wriggle it at him invitingly.

  “Now that you’re nice and wet,” he says, pushing at my entrance with the head of his cock. “You can take all this.”

  Even as creamy and boneless as I am, it is a tight fit. He presses on, slowly and gently until my pussy was filled with his cock.

  I thought his tongue was heavenly, but god, his cock is something else. Smooth as silk going in, but when he starts to withdraw it, it rasps my insides just like his tongue as if fighting to stay inside me. The intermingled pleasure and pain of it has me screaming again.

  “Such a pretty little human,” he purrs, as he slides into me and pulls back again with excruciating deliberation. “Such a pretty, responsive little human.”

  Only when I lose control for the second time in an orgasm ever wilder and more powerful than the first, does he finally let himself fall over the edge with me.

  Azr

  I wake up with Delia’s body wrapped in my arms.

  For a second I freeze. This wasn’t part of my plan.

  Our mating was fucking amazing, but it definitely shouldn’t have happened. I’m taking her back to Earth because I’m a sucker for a lady in distress. And that will be the end of this.

  Still, I lean in closer and breathe in the scent of her red hair. She has incredible hair. It’s a color I’ve never seen on any female Kargan, and softer to the touch than any hair I’ve felt before.

  There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the time I do have with her...

  I pull away quickly. I’m breaking my own promise to myself.

  No women.

  No Kargan women, and certainly no Earthling women, are going to get close to me again. It’s not worth the risk, not worth the heartbreak that will inevitably come. I’m on my own.

  I must have startled Delia awake as she rolls over and rubs her eyes sleepily. Her eyelids part, and she does a double take at seeing me lying next to her.

  I can literally see the moment she remembers last night. Her skin turns pink, from her forehead down to her neck and the expression on her face looks like she has just eaten a spider.

  Despite my determination to remain uninvolved, it hurts. “Did I live up to your expectations?” I ask snidely, my eyes wandering down her body. “First alien sex ever?”

  She glares at me and quickly pulls the thin blanket up to her chin.

  “Or was it your attempt at ensuring that I don’t back out of my promise to take you back to Earth? A favor for a favor, as it were.”

  She sniffles and draws the blanket up over her head.

  “Sorry,” I mumble, and turn away. I shouldn’t feel awkward. I didn’t until she woke up and looked at me like that.

  I can see the regret in her eyes. That look she just gave me said it all. I don’t need words. She’d had too much to drink last night, she’d been acting reckless and now she’s woken up herself again. An embarrassed, awkward version of herself.

  At least I know where we stand. I didn’t plan for this, she regrets it, and it won’t happen again.

  I wrench myself out of the bed and stand at the meagre spot of bare floor at the end of the bed. My head throbs.

  For all my bravado last night, I do have a hangover this morning. I should have had one of the instant hydration packets I gave Delia.

  I wanted Dezar to think I was far more gone than I really was, but still, it took a lot of pretend swallows and spilling my drink for him to get drunk. He must have a strong tolerance for the drink.

  And he bought into every word I said.

  “Oi, you awake in there?” Dezar’s voice cuts into my head like a knife.

  I open the door and step out. “Why good morning, friend,” I say. “Barely alive, but I’m awake.” A slight exaggeration but might as well keep playing the same game as last night.

  Dezar grunts. He doesn’t meet my eyes and his voice is gruff. Some of the friendliness from last night has gone. “I need a hand refueling. We’ll be at the Zarth refueling station shortly.”

  I widen my eyes. Shit. I didn’t even hear us take off. He must have been flying for the past few hours. It’s a mercy he hasn’t crashed, given the state he was in.

  “I’ll need you and the Earth girl down on the ground. The locking mechanism to the fuel hose is sticky. I’ll get you to keep an eye on it. Once it’s done, get back on board, and we’ll head to your uncle’s property.”

  I nod. And give him a smile. “I’ll be glad to help.”

  He gives me a look out of the corner of his eye, and grunts again. Then he’s gone. Back to the cockpit, and to open another bottle no doubt.

  I head back to our room. Delia is in the middle of dressing and she jumps when I open the door. I let my gaze linger on her naked ass only for a second, before I remember my promise to myself. I look up at the ceiling. “Just a heads up, my little low-battery cyborg friend, that you’ll need to be ready to go soon.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I see her yank her pants and top on. Pity. She looks better without them.

  “I think it’s horrible what you’re planning on doing to him,” she says. Her voice is low and quiet but filled with anger. “He’s given us a ride out of the goodness of his heart-”

  I snort. “Goodness of his heart? Where do you even get that language from? He gave us a ride because I’ve paid him to.”

  Now that she’s dressed again, I look at her. Her eyes are red rimmed and teary. I guess alcohol doesn’t go down so well with humans. “With money you stole. He’s been good to us. And you’re going to screw him over.”

  I raise my eyebrows at her. If I wanted to pay attention to my conscience, I’d choose to do it myself. “Money I won. Fair and square. The money I stole went into buying your freedom. If I might remind you, sweet pea, the last time you doubted my plans, you ended up in the hands of some rather undesirable Hyaks.”

  “The last hands I ended up in were pretty undesirable too,” she retorts. “Was that all part of your plan, too?”

  Ah, so here it comes. “Ouch.” I cross my arms. “I could see from the sour look on your face this morning that you regretted our night together. Don’t worry, we’re on the same page with that. No, it wasn’t part of my plan. And it’s not happening again. It wasn’t that fabulous the first time that I feel any need to repeat the experiment.”

  She blinks back tears. “It’s just what you do, isn’t it? Screw people over. Doesn’t matter if they’re men or women. If you want something from them, you take it.”

  I tense
my shoulders at her words. “As I recall, I didn’t take anything from you. You willingly gave it. You insisted on giving it to me. So I don’t appreciate what you’re insinuating. That’s one thing I’d never, ever do.” I growl the last bit.

  She flinches but doesn’t back down. “That’s not what I meant,” she spits. “I mean you take what you want, without thought of what you’re doing to the other person. What their feelings will be afterwards. You steal and you use people.” She sobs the last bit.

  “I don’t care about feelings,” I say. My voice is low. “Feelings don’t matter. Feelings make you vulnerable, and you lose sight of what’s important. Feelings got me into this whole damn mess in the first place. And my ability to get myself out of this mess, and you out of this mess too, for that matter, rely on me not having feelings. So I hope you come to appreciate that when I’ve got you safely back to your little shithole planet.”

  I turn, but before I leave the room I look back. “You’re going to be flying home in a stolen spaceship feeling damn grateful that I’ve helped you, or you’re going to be staying here on your own. You got it?”

  She glares at me, sniffs, and nods.

  She doesn’t say another word as Dezar lands and instructs us on how to attach the fuel line outside the ship. He hands me a small intercom system so he can direct me from inside the ship. It hooks onto my ear, buzzing slightly with static, even at such close range.

  Outside, the sun beats down on us, hot and unrelenting. It’s only just above the horizon but the size of it means the sky is lit up brightly and it’s too warm already. I’ve been to planets with multiple suns, and planets with suns that are further away. To be honest, I prefer planets where the sun doesn’t take up so much space in the sky, and there is more room for blueness. It’s almost too close here, as if a large enough solar flare would fry the whole planet.

  I shake my head. Back to the task at hand.

  The ship is parked close to the fuel pumps. I’ll admit, it takes a skilled pilot to land in such a tight spot so neatly. Dezar might be flying a rusty tin bucket, but he can fly it well.

  The fueling dock is empty aside from us. There was a drought on this planet shortly after the Emperor took over, and with no support from the government, a lot of the worst-hit farmers packed up and left their homes. Most of this settlement have gone, to scratch at the fringes of the bigger cities for scraps left by the rich.

  It reminds me of the place my adopted uncle once lived, a few planets over. He’d taught me how to fly when I was a scrawny orphaned kid. He’d taught me how to play cards and drink and smuggle goods between planets. He wasn’t a loving or kind man by any stretch of the imagination. I worked hard for him for food and board, cleaning and maintaining his ship, cooking when he needed it. He got out of smuggling years back, then killed himself when his farm failed.

  What he’d still had, he’d left to me.

  The fueling dock is empty for a second reason. Most ships built in the last few years take a different type of fuel, a hybrid mix that’s enriched with a mineral mined from a nearby planet, which enables the fuel to last longer. This dock hasn’t been upgraded in what looks like a considerable amount of time, probably since before I was born. The technology is old. There’s an actual keypad on the pumps—I haven’t seen one of them at a fuel dock since I was a kit.

  The small building at the end of the dock which had once housed a bar and eatery, and a place for weary pilots to sleep if they were sick of the cramped ship quarters, is dark, its windows blacked out. Likely when the fuel here runs out, no one will bother to come by to restock.

  Dezar’s ship is recognized by the automatic system and the fuel pump has unlocked. I heft the hose nozzle onto my shoulder and drag it the few short feet to where Dezar’s ship is parked. If he’d been a worse pilot, he’d be further away, and I’d need the two of us to lift the hose.

  At waist height is a dented panel with a lever. I pull the lever and it opens with a high-pitched whine. Inside is a cap that I carefully unscrew, before attaching the hose pump. “Can you flick the switch on the pump?” I call to Delia.

  She walks over to the pump stiffly and pushes the faded green switch without saying a word.

  Usually she would be looking around her with wide childlike eyes, taking in everything with a look of wonder. Today she stares at the ground, doesn’t make eye contact, and doesn’t make a sound. It’s different to her teary, fearful, vulnerability from when we first met. She’s still teary and scared, but now she’s angry along with it.

  Angry at me.

  I don’t know what is going through that head of hers. For her to go so cold all of a sudden. To pull up the covers to shield herself from my eyes is a slap in the face. It is a clear signal that she regrets our mating.

  As soon as she woke up, her first reaction was shame and regret. No trying to hide it from me.

  I punch the metal wall of Dezar’s ship in front of me. Damn her. Damn females.

  Delia starts at the noise, but says nothing, only shooting me a cursory glance.

  Dezar’s voice cuts through my thoughts. If I look up, I can see his face at the large glass panel in the control room. “Keep it on ‘til I say.”

  I nod. No point replying.

  Delia and I are silent as the ship fills. I sneak a glance at her to see her seated in the sparse shade the fuel pump offers, her arms curled around her knees.

  “That’s enough,” Dezar’s voice comes over the intercom, crackling slightly.

  “Switch it off,” I call to Delia.

  She huffs as she stands up and pushes the switch without speaking again.

  I disconnect the nozzle, re-screw the cap. I take the hose back and hang it up. I motion to Delia to stand.

  I’m wondering if my plan is about to fail after all, when Dezar’s voice crackles through into my ear again. “I want you to know that I am sorry to have to do this to you.”

  It’s loud enough that Delia, standing next to me, frowns.

  “Do what, my friend? We’re all done here. We can come back on board.”

  “I wouldn’t come any closer.”

  I angle my head up slightly so I can see his face peering down from the glass window in front of the control panel. Newer ships have one-way glass, so the pilot can see out and no one can see in. His rust bucket is clear glass, the old kind. I can see the whites of his eyes clearly. “What’s going on?”

  Delia’s eyes are wide, as she looks between me and Dezar, and back again.

  A low grumble shakes the ground.

  “I was well aware that you were planning to take my ship,” Dezar’s voice is slurred. He’s been drinking during this refuel no doubt. Celebrating his victory.

  “I wasn’t,” I say back. “Where did you get that idea? We drank together. I called you friend.”

  Dezar laughs. The rumble of the engine gets louder. I can feel the heat from the engine already. “You think you had bested me, pirate. I know your kind.” I hear him hoick spit. Gross. He might have done it for dramatic effect, but he’s the one who has a big glob of spittle on his floor now. “Thinking you can steal from me. I’ve been around a longer time that you have, pirate.” He sneers the last word.

  The word pirate rankles me. I growl up at him, baring my teeth slightly. An empty threat, seeing as there is a thick, albeit rusty, sheet of metal between us. “I object to that term. Besides, you can’t just leave us here.”

  Delia has cottoned on to Dezar’s intention. “No,” she moans. “Please. He wasn’t going to. I promise. I was going to talk him around.” She leans in close to my ear, pleading with Dezar.

  His grating laugh is his only answer to her pleas. “Shut up, you earthling whore.” The rumbles of the engine nearly drown his voice out.

  As much as I object to this sort of language being used towards a woman, I hope she hears it clearly, so she knows that he was not the epitome of generosity she’d mistaken him for.

  A look at her face confirms she did hear him. “I’m
not a whore,” she yells. She’s looking up at the window now, not even bothering with the intercom.

  Dezar is looking down at her and laughing at the sight of her small human figure jumping with rage.

  “You are a nasty, mean, selfish, morally corrupt man with—with eyes the color of cat sick!” She screams the last bit.

  I bite my cheek to stop from laughing.

  From our low vantage point I can see Dezar’s cat-sick eyes narrow. “Crooks, both of you,” he replies. A bit rich really, seeing as he’s not exactly acting like a saint himself right now. “I’ll be glad to be rid of you. And I’ll be enjoying your uncle’s treasure, pirate, while you and your earthling slut—”

  The last of what he says is drowned out by the engines entirely. I grab Delia and half carry, half drag her away.

  A burst of heat and flame erupts from under the ship. We fall to our knees, covering our ears, although it does little against the noise.

  A second, two seconds, and the ship is a mere speck in the sky, the engines a gentle purr.

  Then blessed silence.

  I turn to Delia, grinning. “Well. That went well, wouldn’t you say?”

  Chapter 6

  Delia

  I watch the spaceship shoot into the air, moving away from us at a terrifying speed. Leaving us here, alone, with nothing but the clothes on our backs. In a grimy, run-down, intergalactic petrol station.

  I think I want to punch Azr in the face. In fact, I know for sure that I want to punch him in the face. If he hadn’t been planning on screwing over the pilot, then we wouldn’t be here. “He left us!”

  My indignant voice would have to do instead of a punch. I’m not quite brave enough to assault a clawed alien who stands head and shoulders above me, no matter how much of a pretty boy he is. “That did not go well! Not that I wanted you to steal from him in the first place. We shouldn’t have tried to trick him. Now look where it’s got us.”