“Let’s go home,” she said, wiggling in his arms. She wanted down, but he had no intention of ever letting her go.
“Yes. Home,” he managed to say, voice thick with emotion.
“Are you okay, Rev?” She stroked his cheek.
The happiness swelling in his chest threatened to burst. He had his true mate, against every improbable odd, including punching a hole through the fabric of time just to find her. “Yes,” he said simply, rather than try to explain everything inside him.
He carried her the entire way to his apartment and across the threshold. “Welcome home, Mrs. Perra.”
She slid down his front, her curves rubbing against him. His body vibrated with awareness of her; such a tiny little thing had such a huge presence.
He caressed the side of her face and she nuzzled into his palm, humming contently. His fingers drifted down to stroke the length of her neck, pausing where it joined her shoulder. Only one thing remained—
“Tea?”
“I could murder a cup,” she said.
“For a mating, we drink a ceremonial tea.” He requisitioned the blend some weeks ago, hopeful that Elizabeth would be deemed well enough to leave the hospital.
“Oh. Do we need to do anything special?” She moved to the food prep area and began to fill a kettle with water. They had shared meals in his apartment before, allowing her to become acquainted with the space and practice operating the appliances.
Reven took the kettle from her. “I will do this. Please, sit.”
She nodded before wandering over to the seating area. Activating the control panel on the wall, she set the windows to an outside view of Earth. It wasn’t the actual view from his apartment windows. That honor belonged to a brick wall of the neighboring building. Cameras provided a live feed, allowing every apartment to command a superior view.
“I will never tire of this view,” she said.
After the water boiled, he steeped the tea leaves in a ceramic pot, part of a set his mother sent for the occasion. It had been in her family for three generations. Once he judged the tea sufficiently steeped, he carried the pot and two cups on a tray over to his mate.
“What would you like to do next?” he asked, setting down the tray on a low table.
Her eyes gleamed and she raised one eyebrow.
“Wicked female,” he murmured, pouring a cup for her.
Her hand fluttered to her bosom in a convincing display of innocence. “I was thinking about paints, you naughty man.”
“I believe you,” he said flatly.
“I was! I’ve more experience with watercolor, but the stars are so vivid. I think the only way to capture them is oil.” She sat down before accepting the cup. Cautiously, she sniffed the brew and wrinkled her nose.
Curious, he sniffed, too. A pungent aroma assaulted his nose.
“Why choose? You can have both,” he said. He’d purchase every art supply available. If the local shops did not have it, he’d special order it from Earth.
With that decided, he drained his cup in one gulp. The hot liquid scalded a path down his throat. He gasped at the bitter taste.
“That bad, is it?” She moved the cup in a circular motion, swirling the liquid. “Cheers.”
She drank it all, scowling and pushed the offending vessel in his hand. “That certainly is memorable,” she said diplomatically.
“It’s terrible,” he admitted.
A sigh of relief escaped her and her shoulders slumped in relief. “It’s not my favorite, but I didn’t want to offend. People get prickly about traditions.”
“Are you upset that we didn’t have more Terran traditions?” He knew Terrans wore ceremonial garb, gathered family and friends for a celebration, and tossed birdseed and flowers.
She smoothed down the front of her simple tunic. “Orange flowers might have been nice but I’m happy to have it over with. I had an elaborate wedding once and, frankly, I’ve a mind it’s more trouble than it’s worth.”
He leaned forward, his face close to hers. “You are worth all the trouble.”
Her lips quirked up in a smile. “All the trouble?”
As part of the tea ceremony, Reven knew it was his responsibility to ask his mate what she envisioned for their future. His mother spoke to him several times, at length, about the importance of his moment. He wanted to ask but he couldn't think past her smile or her soft, yielding lips.
He moved to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth but she turned, capturing his lips with hers. Soft at first, the kiss deepened as she gave way and opened to him. Her tongue tangled with his and his aching cock throbbed to the point of pain. His arm tightened around her waist and her hands twisted in his hair.
“You are my beacon, shining in the dark—my miracle,” he said, pulling away with reluctance.
He refilled her cup. She frowned but did not protest. “We must drink the entire pot,” he explained.
“I say we dump it down the sink. I won’t tell if you don’t,” she suggested.
He chuckled. “Do you want to travel? We can explore Australia, tour the rings of Saturn, or lounge on the beaches of Noven 90.”
“Don’t you want to stay here?”
“The lunar base is one spot in a large universe. I want to show you everything.”
“It’d be nice to go someplace where I’m not such an oddity, or an antiquity,” she said. “Everyone has been kind, but they speak to me as if I’m a simpleton.”
An urge to shield his mate from all unpleasantness flared inside him. “Who has done this?”
“No one in particular,” she said, waving away his concern. “I don’t understand most of the technology but so what? Most people cannot explain how their lights work or their homes are heated. They don’t have to understand to use it, and I’m the same.”
He hadn’t considered that. Everyone in his clan knew her origins. She would never be simply Elizabeth, his mate. She would always be an anomaly. “Then we’ll travel. My mother is begging to meet you.” His birth world could be their first stop.
“Can we do that? Travel?”
“Engineers are needed everywhere. I can look for projects away from Earth, if you’d like.”
She grinned into her cup. “I think I would like that, at least for a bit. If we—when we—have children, I think it’d be best to stay in one place, for stability. Until then, it’s a big universe.”
She drained it with a grimace before setting the cup down on the table. She watched him with anticipation as he finished his second cup.
The tea really was terrible. Why had no one warned him?
Elizabeth removed the clip holding back her hair, the dark tresses spilling over her shoulders. She wore it shorter now still long enough for the waves to form soft curls.
He could think of something sweeter he’d rather have on his tongue.
Reven pulled her onto his lap. She gave a surprised squeal but did not protest as she straddled him.
Her fingers skated across his lips, chin, and jaw, followed by fluttering kisses. She licked the shell of his ear, inspiring a deep groan, and then kissed the base of his horn. Her lips, warm and soft, pressed against the sensitive material and pleasure coiled tight within him.
He carried her to the bedroom, announcing that they had worn clothing for far too long on their mating day.
Elizabeth
“Undress for me, my mate,” Reven said in a commanding voice.
Elizabeth shivered at his confidence, eager to comply. She started with her feet, removing her shoes and socks. While she enjoyed the simplicity of modern dress—and the lack of corsets—she missed the layers and the slow tease as she peeled away layer after layer.
Reven didn’t seem to mind. His eyes devoured her as she revealed herself. Unashamed, she stood before him, a woman laid bare before her—not exactly a man but male nonetheless.
“Undress me, wife,” he said.
She started with his shoes, working the odd magnetic closures. Her hands ski
mmed up his calves, appreciating the feel of solid muscle under the thin cloth. At his waist, she unfastened his trousers and pushed them and his undergarments down.
His cock sprang free, the head glistening. She licked her lips and leaned in.
Reven’s hand on the back of her neck stayed her. “You’re not finished, wife,”
“I want to taste you.” She loved the spicy musk of him and the way he filled her mouth. She looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. “Please, husband.”
He stroked her hair before nodding, a grin on his handsome face. How strange that once all she saw was their difference, his horns and complexion, and now his features were dear to her, necessary, but above all, him. Reven, her man from the stars.
Her husband.
She was far from a blushing virgin but she had never been adventurous. The last few weeks had been spent exploring each other's bodies and their preferences. No touch was unwanted and no desire forbidden.
Emboldened, she swiped her tongue across the dripping head of his member. Musk and spice exploded on her tongue and she wanted more. She took him in her mouth, not terribly deep, and used one hand to stroke his shaft. The other hand cupped his tightening sack. He shuddered in response.
“My precious mate.” His hand on her head guided her as she worked his prick. Muscles tenses and flexed under her touch.
She watched him through lowered lashes, reveling in how her touch affected him. She had never done this act before Reven and she enjoyed it thoroughly. Her arousal dripped down her thighs.
“Enough.” He drew her to her feet. “On the bed. I want to see your pretty cunt.”
Lying on her back, she spread her legs in a lurid display. He growled his approval as the rest of his garment hit the floor.
He knelt at the edge of the bed, between her thighs, and pushed her open wider. Leaning in, he breathed deeply. He licked her sensitive folds in long, languid strokes. This was also a pleasure newly discovered with him and he insisted on practicing his technique until he knew exactly what pleased her.
Elizabeth greeted his desire with enthusiasm. They explored and discovered each other with their lips and their tongues, discovering new ways to bring each other to release.
A finger prodded at the entrance of her core, opening her for him. Strong hands flipped her to her stomach. Gently he rubbed circles on her lower back and then her bottom. She lifted her hips and he growled with approval.
“My mate,” he said, voice low and thick.
He covered her, his arms and his heat surrounding her, and then he was in her. She gasped at the sensation, the sudden feeling of being stretched and very, very full. He moved inside her, their bodies working in harmony with equal push and pull.
His mouth pressed against the back of her neck, licking in one moment and then his teeth scraping the next. The weight of him, solid, immovable and pinning her to the mattress, was unlike anything she had experienced before. Being squashed under him should have been uncomfortable but it gave her such a sense of peace. She felt utter safety under him, trusting him to keep her grounded in this new world.
His body was a work of art, hone muscle and motion. With one arm planted next to her head, his fingers gripped the bed linen. The swirling designs of his tattoo burned silvery, climbing from his wrist upwards. Forceful yet gentle all at once, he held her with one arm under her stomach as he pumped in and again. She lost herself to the sensation, letting the feel of Reven fill her, pour into her, until her body reached its peak.
Pausing for a moment, the arm under her pulled her closer. He continued to pump into her and her climax continued to roll over her.
Heated and oversensitive, his breath on her neck set her quaking. He lifted her, pulling her back to his, and sat on his heels. Vertical, he held her in place, pumping upwards. The new angle set her back over the precipice, crying in delight.
With a grunt, he sank his teeth into the curve where her neck met her shoulder. Pain flared briefly but the pleasure surging through her body drowned it out. In a warm rush, he emptied into her and she wanted every drop. Only the two of them existed in that moment, joined and unburdened with the past or the uncertainty of the future.
Eventually, he pulled out and laid her boneless form down on the bed. He retrieved a cloth and cleaned her, his touch full of reverence and devotion.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
“Never.” She motioned for him to lay next to her. When he did, she curled into him and rested her head on his chest. The steady, regular thud of his heart soothed her. This solid, strong body belonged to her husband. The strength of his muscles was only surpassed by the strength of his heart. How fortunate for her to find and know love twice in her life, for her heart to happily accommodate both.
What she had with David, for good or bad, was finished. Crystalized in time, it would never change. Reven brought change and growth. They would move forward and forge a future together, day by day. They could not stay as they were in that moment, tangled together in bed, because she understood that to refuse to change was stagnation. Her love for him would grow and change, but the possibility did not frighten her. The potential excited her.
“I love you more than I ever thought possible,” she said.
“Your light called to me,” he said, rubbing her back. “Across the darkness, when I thought I would be alone, when I gave up hope of finding you, there you were.”
Epilogue I
Gloria
“Hello, Gloria Garcia,” a familiar voice said.
She stiffened at the voice, a voice that tormented her as a child, frustrated her as a hormone-addled teenager, and haunted her very adult fantasies—a voice she hadn’t heard in ten years.
“Why are you here, Arik?” She continued with the inventory check, though she lost count the moment she heard that voice. She refused to turn around, better ot have him remain the gangly teenager she remembered, not yet grown into his height. She didn’t need to see him all-grown-up, even if the idea did make her weak in the knees.
“I require a medic’s attention,” Arik said.
“Then I suggest you seek a Mahdfel specialist.” She continued to move bottles, pretending to count.
“I have an ache.”
“Good for you,” she replied tartly.
“I was hoping that you could kiss it better, like you used to.”
Epilogue II
Elizabeth
Seven Years Later
London hadn’t changed, not really. The city of her birth remained crowded and the streets congested, albeit the vehicles were no longer horse-drawn carts and carriages. The air was much improved, no longer choking on coal and smog.
The Thames had the same lazy, gurgling quality and the river water even smelled a bit dank in the summer sun.
Home sweet home.
Roman ran to the corner and back again, impatiently waiting for his parents. “Mom, we’re going to miss the light.”
Despite a difficult pregnancy, Roman arrived a robust baby and grew into an active child. Tall for his age, he appeared entirely human. Subtle details gave away his Mahdfel heritage, such as uncanny reflexes and agility. Roman’s energy required constant redirection, because an idle Roman was a child about to cause mischief. Fortunately, Reven proved apt at finding small missions to allow his son to burn off that excess energy.
“Patience,” Reven said, not increasing the pace of his ambling stroll. He held her hand. While it appeared a sweet gesture, Elizabeth held tight because the crowds parted around Reven. It was easier to let him pull her along in his wake.
“That’s your son,” she said.
“I do not know what you mean. I’m the soul of patience.”
She couldn’t really argue with that. Reven could wait out an ice age if need be. “I mean the excitability. That’s all you.”
“Perhaps he’s an art enthusiast.”
“Really, because I think he’s more interested in going for an ice cream after the museum than the actual
museum,” she said.
He chuckled, not disagreeing.
“I’m interested in the paintings,” Mara said. She begged and pleaded to come along, but all the dramatics were unnecessary. She had her Uncle Reven wrapped around her finger as much as ever.
Once in the museum, Reven crouched down to speak to Roman, warrior to warrior. “I have a mission for you,” he said, tone confidential.
Roman’s eyes light up. “I can do it!”
“I need you to scout ahead with Mara, search for interesting things to show your mother. Hold her hand, you know how she likes to wander off.”
Roman nodded.
“And stay within eyesight of your mother and me,” Reven finished.
“I can protect her. I know how to do a flip now.” Roman recently learned how to flip an opponent over his back. Now that move was his go-to solution for everything.
“A scout maintains contact with his warlord,” Reven said.
“I understand,” Roman replied, voice solemn. He grabbed Mara’s hand and practically dragged her through the gallery.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Elizabeth asked.
“Mara won’t let him rush her and if he’s scouting, he’s too busy to get into trouble.”
She wasn’t so sure about that. Roman’s ability to find trouble never ceased to amaze her.
In the years since they married, they strolled alien shores under the light of two moons, visited mountain tops just to take in the view, and swam in warm oceans with luminescent seaweed. Every day had been filled with discovery and laughter, and she drew inspiration knowing they carried their heart and home with them.
Thank you for reading!
Time travel and aliens? Really, Nancey? What were you thinking? I love time travel stories. Just adore them. The ability to go back in time was the thing I wanted most as a girl, even more than a pony.
Now that I’ve written one, I can say they are a pain in the butt to write. So many things get tangled and the end of the story wanted to be written first, which just messes with my head. I’m very much a linear progression type of girl. I don’t know that I’ll be writing another time travel story again but I’m glad I did it.
Alien Warlord's Miracle Page 17