Creations Collection 2: sci fi alien romance

by Marie Harte

  Ryen flushed and kept his attention on his food. “It’s just odd. You’re a strong guy. Why would you want a man when you can have a soft woman?”

  Dreyk chuckled. “What you really want is an explanation as to how you can want me when you’ve been warned against it your whole life.”

  “Not true, I—”

  “It’s not a weakness to admit what you want, to accept it. I love women too. I love their softness, their curves, so different from my own. To be deep inside a female as you suck from her breasts, to kiss her lips as you drive deep... What’s not to love? Unlike most males, I have no need to procreate. I use sex as a release, not as a drive to produce young. The same as you, Ryen. Why then are males not acceptable as receptacles for our lust?”

  He had a point. Ryen chewed his food, lost in thought.

  “Your handler told you it was wrong, as did mine. My master showed me another way. In certain males, I can loosen that hold on my control. I don’t need to worry about how hard I grab, how deeply I thrust. Within reason, of course. Master was very strong.”

  The jealousy Ryen experienced shocked him. What did he care how much Dreyk felt for another?

  “If your handler had not warned you against sex with other men, would you have tried it?” Dreyk asked.

  Ryen found himself admitting the truth. “Yes.”

  “Good. Curiosity is human, Ryen.” Dreyk winked. “We were Created to be human, weren’t we? Why then wouldn’t we want to experience everything? Perhaps after you bed a male, you’ll find you don’t like it.”

  Ryen hadn’t thought of that.

  “What do you have to lose? If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

  “How do I know you’ll stop?” Ryen held up his wrists. “If you want to earn my trust, try it without these.”

  “I would if I could trust you. I don’t. I know what it’s like in the early years. You need help with restraint.”

  “You said you’re strong. You don’t need these.” Ryen glared at the magnecuffs.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Every time Dreyk mentioned hurting Ryen, Ryen’s blood spiked. The thought that Dreyk had enough might to overpower him intrigued him to no end.

  “You’ve done well today with the meditation. Now it’s time to relax. Pull your chair over here.”

  “I could use the rest. Where should I bunk down?” Ryen deliberately ignored Dreyk’s command. Nervous and not liking it, he forced himself to pretend Dreyk didn’t have the upper hand. Because as much as Ryen despised the cuffs, the knowledge that he was under Dreyk’s authority didn’t repulse him as it first had.

  “Do I have to use the cuffs to move you? Relax, Ryen. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  The smirk on Dreyk’s face irritated him anew. Ryen stalked to within an inch of the male and glared down at him. “I’m not scared of you, Dreyk.”

  “Then pull your chair next to mine and sit. I have another exercise for you to complete.”

  Ryen sat, as stiff as a board, prepared for an attack of some kind.

  “Open your mouth.”

  “What?”

  “Say nothing. Open your mouth.” When Dreyk’s gaze blackened before returning to light gray, Ryen felt his will to resist fade.

  More curious now than alarmed, Ryen opened his mouth. Dreyk took a piece of fruit and placed it on his tongue.

  “Close your eyes and your mouth and chew. Then swallow it and tell me what it tastes like.”

  Ryen closed his eyes and mouth, catching the tip of Dreyk’s finger in the process. The taste of salty flesh mixed with the ripe sweetness of the fruit before Dreyk slipped his finger free. Ryen chewed and swallowed, hypersensitive to the weight of Dreyk’s gaze, to the subtle scent of the male mixing with the fruity sensation on his tongue.

  He couldn’t help the rasp in his voice. “The fruit is sweet.”

  “And? What of its texture?” Dreyk murmured.

  Ryen started to answer when a hand landed on his thigh. He opened his eyes and stared at Dreyk’s large hand.

  “Close your eyes and answer the question. What of its texture?”

  Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Ryen closed his eyes. “It’s fleshy, soft, and chewy. The fruit fills my mouth with juice when I bite into it.”

  That hand inched higher on his thigh before lowering to his knee. The tension in the room thickened.

  “Relax, Ryen. Now, keep your eyes closed, open your mouth, and take another bite.”

  Ryen didn’t understand what Dreyk expected him to learn from this exercise but didn’t see the harm in complying. The fruit tasted delicious. If Dreyk got out of hand, Ryen could take him down and mute him before Dreyk had an opportunity to voice-command the cuffs. He hoped.

  Another piece of fruit landed on his tongue. A bit of juice dribbled down his lip. Before he could wipe it away, Dreyk took it with his thumb.

  The soft caress over his mouth nearly caused Ryen to choke. Such carnality in a simple touch. The hand on his leg moved from knee to upper thigh, close but not touching his hard cock, despite Ryen trying to will away his desire.

  “It’s okay, Ryen. I’m familiarizing you with touch. Not every male you meet wants to harm you. For so long you’ve seen men as your enemy and women as no more than sexual objects or beings to protect. I’m a male. I don’t want to hurt you. Take comfort in this contact,” Dreyk said, his voice soft.

  “It feels strange,” Ryen admitted, his voice huskier than he might have liked.

  “But not bad.” Dreyk eased his hand over Ryen’s other leg. His knuckles brushed Ryen’s groin, sending fire through Ryen’s entire body. “Not harmful.”

  Ryen kept his eyes shut, not wanting to see Dreyk’s smug face. Dreyk surprised him by saying nothing about his excitement. He continued to feed Ryen, petting him into a sensual lassitude Ryen found surprisingly comforting.

  Not sure how long the two of them sat there, Ryen finally noticed Dreyk’s stillness.

  He blinked his eyes open. Dreyk stared at him with a curious look on his face, one that confused Ryen as much as it captivated him. What the hell is Dreyk thinking about?

  Dreyk patted his leg. To Ryen’s chagrin, Dreyk seemed unfazed by their interaction, whereas Ryen had an aching erection needing ease.

  “It’s been a long day. I think it’s time we turned in.”

  Excitement touched the dreamy reality of the moment as Ryen followed Dreyk into the bedroom. Would Dreyk try to take him tonight? Would the male finally mount him and fuck him? Force Ryen to suck him off, to swallow his seed?

  “Remove your clothes.”

  Ryen wavered on his feet. What the fuck? Baffled by his sudden weariness, Ryen put up no protest. He disrobed and remained standing, watching Dreyk through half-slit eyes.

  “Now get into bed.”

  Ryen lay down in the middle of the monstrous bed, consciously forcing Dreyk to order him over. Though tonight had been a pleasant surprise, Ryen didn’t know what more Dreyk might want from him, or if he should allow it, as much as his body wanted some ease. The past few days had been sheer hell.

  “Good night, Ryen. Rest well.” Dreyk left, his mysterious gaze both tender and calculating.

  Bastard. Ryen thought on a yawn, and then thought no more as sleep overtook him.

  8

  Ryen woke the next day to see Dreyk at the foot of the bed, wide awake and smiling.

  “What? You been staring at me all night?”

  “In your dreams.” Dreyk chuckled. “You look better.”

  Ryen felt better, more centered, his limbs relaxed. Damned if he’d admit it to Dreyk. He stretched, satisfied when Dreyk’s gaze darkened and lingered on his chest before sweeping down his front.

  “I’ll meet you at the table in the front.” Dreyk pivoted on one foot and left.

  Maybe he’s not as calm as he’d like me to believe he is. Stars knew Ryen wasn’t. As he took care of his morning needs in the lav and dressed in clean clothes—clothes Dreyk had app
arently stolen out of his dwelling—Ryen pondered his new state of mind. He wouldn’t say he was miraculously healed of any and all anger, but his pressing desire to lash out wasn’t there.

  Fastening his trousers, Ryen grazed his cock, not surprised when it failed to respond. He’d been conditioned never to experience pleasure at his own hands. Creations were meant to focus on what their handlers wanted. Sex had its place, a reward for a job well done, to soothe the savage beast. Masturbation took a warrior’s mind off his mission. If he could please himself, why work so hard to earn that sexual favor?

  Dreyk had taken himself in hand yesterday, Ryen remembered with startling clarity. Like a switch, his libido turned on. His cock rose at the recollection of Dreyk coming over his hand, his belly...

  Damn it. Ryen willed his body under control. He even called on that crappy meditation to calm himself and was surprised when it worked.

  Stepping outside the bedroom, he paused to study Dreyk grabbing their food from the processor. Dreyk wore snug, rak-hide trousers and a sleeveless, gray shirt. He remained barefoot. More training indoors.

  Ryen tugged at the cuffs Dreyk hadn’t activated since he’d begun the meditation training. So long as they kept this fragile peace, he might not need to. Though Ryen still intended on some payback for this entire situation, he grudgingly conceded Dreyk meant him no harm.

  Truth be told, Dreyk could have done anything to him. The male had openly admitted to wanting Ryen. He possessed enough strength to make life difficult, even without the cuffs. Yet he’d helped Ryen soothe that ball of rage inside him, had touched him with reverence and gave up his bed.

  Dreyk glanced up and smiled. The warmth in his gaze tore down another of Ryen’s defenses. How the hell could he beat Dreyk senseless when the male looked at him like a... well, like a friend?

  “Took you long enough,” Dreyk teased. “There’s only so much water on the planet, you know.”

  “Shut up.” Ryen surprised himself by enjoying the sense of camaraderie. “Where’d you sleep last night?”

  “On that again.” Dreyk pointed to a lump in the corner. “It really does make into a comfortable bed. Just the press of a simple button and instant comfort is mine.”

  “Pneumatic pump?”

  “No, Eyran technology.” Dreyk’s smile dimmed. “The assholes made more than just us. They actually have a knack for nanite technology. I appropriated it years ago. Along with the design to build more.”

  Ryen approved. Anything that fucked with the scientists on Eyra was okay with him. “What’s on board for today? You letting me go yet?”

  “Are you kidding? You have yet to master your meditation. You can barely tolerate anyone touching you, and you haven’t hit the wall yet.”

  “Hit the wall?”

  “You haven’t come across a situation that tests your control.”

  Ryen snorted. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

  “Very funny. I’m talking about a dangerous scenario. Remember, we’re going to be working for Rafe. Cheltam, his alter-ego, has some major bad-asses he deals with on a daily basis. I—hopefully, we—are his defense and muscle to make things right. Ryen, this job can give you what you’ve been missing for so long. A righteous purpose. We help those in need.”

  “Yeah, well, I need less lectures and more food.”

  “No kidding. You eat twice as much as I do, and Rafe complains about my intake.”

  “Probably because you eat gourmet. What is all this shit?”

  Rare fruits and vegetables, the nutritious crap reminded him of the stuff he’d once been forced to eat in the labs. The sumptuous meat Dreyk served was his only saving grace.

  “You didn’t complain about the coya fruit last night.” Dreyk’s bland tone contrasted with the wicked look in his eyes.

  “Asshole,” Ryen muttered as he attacked the plate Dreyk set before him. Much as Dreyk annoyed him, the jerk also amused him.

  “Stars, is that a smile I see?” Dreyk stared in mock astonishment.

  “Cut it out.” Ryen’s grin grew wider.

  “I think I may pass out from the shock.”

  “Good. Then I’ll get my hands on that controller and fly out of here.”

  “Have fun searching for it.” Dreyk rubbed his chest. “I hid it on my body today.”

  Ryen wanted to look for it, right now. Shaking free of such thoughts, he tried to focus on his food. But as he ate, he couldn’t stop glancing at Dreyk’s sculpted chest through the V-neck of the vest he wore. Nor could he avoid the large arms Dreyk flashed as he gesticulated while he ate. The man he’d once thought taciturn never seemed to shut up.

  Oddly, Synster’s warnings of perversions and unnatural longings seemed less significant each day Ryen spent in Dreyk’s company. What could it hurt to indulge in some human curiosity? Dreyk was a hardy male. Ryen wouldn’t break him, as Dreyk had said. Which made Ryen wonder what it would be like to lose control during sex, to let it all out...

  “Okay. Today we work on your control.” Dreyk stood and put his dishes into the wash receptacle. “If you finish that mound on your plate, we’ll get started.”

  Ryen finished his meal in record time, eager to see what Dreyk had in mind—to hasten his exit out of this place, he told himself. “We going to lose the cuffs today?”

  “You’re kidding, right? You’re going to need them later.”

  Ryen immediately went on alert. “Why?”

  “See? That’s why. I’m just screwing with you, and you’re ready to take my head off. I’m trying to teach you a new way to live. I can’t be on my guard one hundred percent. Once you hit the wall, like I know you will, we’ll both be glad for the cuffs.”

  “You keep threatening it. Just do it. Push me as hard as you can. Watch me handle it.” Ryen could taste his excitement. “I’ve been good the past three days, haven’t I?”

  Dreyk shook his head. “You’re not ready yet. Get over here and assume Petal One hand position.” When Ryen hesitated, Dreyk turned mean. “Now.”

  The need to obey hit him hard. Off balance, Ryen grumbled as he sat down and crossed his legs, but he had no thought to refuse. He tuned out of his surroundings and followed Dreyk’s instruction.

  Soon basking in the harmony within himself, Ryen came to a sudden realization, one that both shocked and unnerved him. He wanted to submit to Dreyk, to a male who had saved his life but who hadn’t bested him in combat. Emotionally stable and even-tempered, superior when it came to control, Dreyk had yet to prove himself in an all-out fight.

  Why do I want to submit now that I’m free? How fucked up am I? Uncomfortable with the truth, Ryen pulled himself from his meditative state.

  Dreyk sat across from him, his legs crossed and his arms assuming Petal One position above his head, his hands entwined. Dreyk’s sluggish pulse and stillness told Ryen he’d entered a similar state of calm.

  The strong column of Dreyk’s throat rippled when he swallowed. The scent of honeyed citrus lingered on his skin from the blan juice he’d consumed. Muscles tanned by the harsh sun strained as he held his pose, and Ryen wanted to feel that skin under his palms. To cause the male’s rosy nipples to pebble, to feel the delineated form of Dreyk’s abdomen as Ryen worked his way lower.

  The temptation Dreyk had planted, to see if sex with a male would equal what he imagined, taunted Ryen to take what he wanted. The advantage was his for the moment. With Dreyk inwardly focused, Ryen could take him down. Not to harm him, but to test his friend’s—the man’s—reflexes. Now, when Dreyk was vulnerable, Ryen could take what he needed, a warrior’s right. Dreyk had openly admitted he wanted Ryen. What better way, then, to see if Ryen returned the attraction wholeheartedly? But under Ryen’s direction, not Dreyk’s.

  Ryen pounced.

  He pinned Dreyk underneath him in two seconds, one hand over the male’s entwined hands, holding him to the ground, the other around Dreyk’s neck.

  “One word from you and I’ll disable your tongue.” The angle of
his fingers under Dreyk’s jaw meant business. “Nod if you understand.”

  Dreyk glared and nodded.

  “Good.” Ryen couldn’t help his arousal, nor could he miss the hardening bulge in Dreyk’s trousers. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he mimicked. “I just need to confirm something.”

  Dreyk remained still, curiosity warring with the anger in his gaze. Ryen didn’t care. He’d danced to Dreyk’s tune, now it was his turn.

  Ryen studied Dreyk’s face, lingering on his lips. Wanting more, he slowly lowered his mouth. Dreyk started to speak, and Ryen tightened his hand.

  “I know you feel my hand around your neck. I’m not playing, Dreyk. Shut up and let me...do this. I need to know.”

  9

  With a sigh, Dreyk surrendered. The power crushing through Ryen swamped him. Heady that he’d regained control, he kissed Dreyk full on the mouth. Unlike a female’s soft lips, Dreyk’s felt firmer. Ryen plundered his mouth with a seeking tongue, tasting the sexual essence of Dreyk as his excitement grew.

  He ground into Dreyk’s belly, rubbing against Dreyk while he deepened the kiss. Groaning, he loosened his hold on Dreyk’s throat and devoured the male. He tasted so damn good, so familiar yet foreign at the same time. Lust built into an all-consuming blaze as Ryen took and took. Dreyk moaned under his assault, and it was all Ryen could do to give him some air.

  He removed his hands from Dreyk’s throat and wrists, caught in his own game. Leaning up on one elbow, he ripped Dreyk’s shirt down the middle and pinched his nipples. Harder, with a roughness that made him want to burst.

  “Fuck,” Ryen growled and latched onto Dreyk’s nipple. So unlike the flesh he normally played with, the feel of solid muscle under the taut nipple aroused Ryen with its difference. No fleshy mound, but a steely plane of strength under such tender skin.

  Dreyk arched into his mouth and thrust against him, pushing Ryen to take more. In a frenzy, he shoved his hand down Dreyk’s trousers and gripped his hot cock. Dreyk moaned his name.