Her Resistance: Planet Athion Series (Darkest Skies Book 2)
Page 11
“Shut the fuck up.”
But his breathing was becoming ragged, and I worked him faster. Talking was turning him on, and the hotter he got, the faster he would come.
“I held your hair in my fist,” he continued, “and used it to fuck your mouth.”
I was horribly aware of the guys on the other side of the glass, how they would be hearing everything being said. I prayed they wouldn’t think differently of me after this. They knew I’d had a connection with Dean back at the Observatory, but hearing it come from the horse’s mouth, as it were, was a whole different thing.
“If we hadn’t been interrupted, Camille, I’d have made you mine. I’d have spread your legs and pushed my cock inside your tight pussy, and then you’d have belonged to me and my kind for good.”
I didn’t look at him, not wanting to be drawn in. I just wanted to get this done and get the hell out of there.
“You like my cock, don’t you, Camille? Think how good it would feel swelling and pulsing inside you.”
I squeezed him tighter.
“Ah, fuck,” he gasped.
He was close, his eyes hooded, his jaw clenched. His cock swelled in my hand, and I was certain the moment was almost here. Every muscle in his perfect body was bunched, and he was on the verge of giving in.
A sudden change rippled across his skin, from the top of his pubic bone, up across his hard stomach. The movement was subtle, to the point where I blinked, thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me. I didn’t stop stimulating him with my hand but kept going, knowing I was near the end. This was what I was working toward—observing what happened to him when he orgasmed—and I couldn’t stop now.
But I frowned and glanced back, checking if what I’d seen had been real.
Sure enough, the skin on his stomach rippled once more, and I caught a glimpse of fiery reds and oranges. What was that? My brain was trying to process it and reject it all at the same time. Scales? Were those scales?
My instinct was to pull away, but I needed to get the job done.
His head tilted back, his lips parted, and I caught sight of twin incisors beneath his upper lip like fangs. Those hadn’t been there before, I was sure of it. And that wasn’t the only change. Two bumps appeared on each side of his otherwise smooth forehead and seemed to be getting larger.
“Ah, yes,” he roared.
His cock hadn’t escaped the transformation. It had always been big, but now I watched in horror as his shaft elongated in my hand. The once very human-looking dome of his cock opened, parting in four ways like the petals of a flower.
The small glass jar intended to catch human-like sperm was obsolete. Dean—or the creature that I’d known to be Dean—ejaculated a stream of thick, clear mucus, and inside that mucus appeared to be what I could only think of as eggs, each one a little larger than a golf ball. The alien ejaculate covered the small jar, spilling over the edges and across my hand.
Oh God!
Unable to take any more, I released him and staggered back.
Dean was no longer Dean. While he still retained the same model-handsome face, and perfect, muscular body, two short, sharp horns now protruded from his forehead, and half of his torso was covered in scales.
From the top of those perfect buttocks protruded a tail. It was long and muscular, and covered in the same red and orange scales that crept up his stomach and torso. His eyes flashed a fiery red as he regarded me, jubilant and smug, and I had the feeling he knew exactly what he’d done. He’d shown me his true form, and while I figured the other Trads made sure to hide this part of themselves when they mated with the women, he’d deliberately exposed himself to me.
Mayhem exploded around me.
Chapter Twelve
The door burst open, and people poured through, shouting instructions to each other.
Above my head, sirens sounded, and a strobe of light swept over the room.
“Don’t shoot,” a male voice shouted. “You’ll hit the girl.”
Dean swept around, using that thick, muscular tail to take the feet out from under several of the men. I looked around for the others but couldn’t see them. Had they gone to get help?
“Take the Trad down!” someone bellowed.
I caught sight of Julia.
“Don’t kill him,” she shouted back. “We still need him.”
With a growl, Dean lowered his head and used his horns to gouge another man out of the way. Someone shot a dart at him—which I assumed was a tranquilizer of some kind—but he just batted it away. The strobe continued to sweep periodically across the room, the alarm wailing in my ears.
His red gaze locked on the open doorway.
In all the chaos, someone had missed the most important part.
“Shut the door!” I yelled.
But it was too late. With a roar of triumph, moving faster than I’d thought possible, he darted for the doorway, throwing several scientists out of his way. It was like having a large wild animal in the room, and none of us were fast enough to stop him.
Suddenly, all the lights died, and we were plunged into darkness.
My eyeballs pressed against the dark and I was disoriented. “Oh shit.”
Agent Calicun got a call on his data pad, the inside of his wrist illuminating. He lifted his arm to his face and spoke urgently.
“We’ve got a problem,” he called out to the rest of us.
I struggled to make out everyone’s faces in the dark, but people whipped out cell phones and used the flashlight apps, or used the light from their data pads to illuminate the room. It was far from a perfect situation, however.
Julia spun to face him. “Even more of a problem than losing the captive Trad?”
Calicun nodded. “Yeah, seems like he’s not alone.”
My blood ran cold. “What?”
He looked between us. “Someone has shut down the power to the facility, and the backup generators aren’t working either.”
I thought back to all the security doors we’d passed through. “Does that mean the doors are all open, or all locked?”
“They’re open, Miss,” someone else spoke out of the dark. “Can’t lock them in case of a fire.”
“Shit.”
That meant Dean was getting away.
Perhaps even more important was who or what had shut off the power in the first place?
A voice came through on Calicun’s data pad. “Reports of shootings and intruders on the ground floor.”
In the dim light, someone grabbed my hand.
It was Mike. “Come on,” he said, “we’ve got to get out of here. This is too dangerous.”
Aleandro and Casey were with him, too. Thank God they hadn’t left me.
“Do you think Dean’s friends came to get him?” I asked.
Mike shrugged. “We don’t know the Trads are responsible. This might just be regular civilians trying to find shelter and supplies.”
“Seems like a bit of coincidence. You think other humans would be able to shut off the power and the backup, too?”
“I don’t know, but I think we need to get out of here.”
He pulled me out of the room, and the others followed. We ran up the corridors, back the way we’d come. Gunshots sounded somewhere in the building, and screams followed. Emergency lighting blinked to life in the floor—like the type found down the middle of an aircraft at night, or cat’s-eyes on the road—lighting the way, but it wasn’t enough. People ran past us, but it was impossible to tell if they belonged in the facility or if they were those attacking.
Someone barged me out of the way, and I lost my hold on Mike’s hand.
“Mike?”
It was too dark to discern one person from another. I glanced around wildly, trying to pick out Casey or Aleandro, but they were nowhere to be seen. Had they left me?
I kept going but had lost track of my location. I moved with the others, like a pack animal, and found myself climbing a stairwell back up to the first floor. The lighting was even worse in here, an
d I grappled around for a handrail to help myself up. I staggered as the toe of my boot clipped one of the steps and sent me flying forward. My knees hit the hard surface, but someone hauled me to my feet again, and I kept going, my heart pounding.
I had no idea where I was going or if I was heading in the right direction. I desperately tried to spot Mike, Casey, or Aleandro, but I was barely able to make out the shapes of people in white coats or men in suits. Were any of these people Trads? It terrified me how easily they could blend in with us all. I could be running alongside one right now and I’d have no idea.
In the confusion, someone grabbed me and pulled me through a doorway. I found myself back out in the parking lot where we’d started.
Breathing hard, I looked around in panic. I saw who my rescuer was and sucked in a breath of shock.
Dean was standing behind me. He was back to his human form and had found clothes from somewhere.
I opened my mouth to scream for help, but his hand clamped over my face. He held me close, his chest pressed up against my back.
“I’m leaving now,” he growled beside my ear. “My comrades have come to get me.”
I struggled in his arms, squealing against his palm. The scent of him, musky and salty, filled my nostrils.
“You can always choose to come with me, Camille,” he continued, apparently unconcerned by my struggles. “We’re not all monsters. You could be mine on Tradrych. I’d protect you until my final breath, I swear it to you.”
He released his hand on my mouth to allow me to reply.
“You’re crazy. I’m not going with you.” I pulled back from him. For a moment, I thought he’d just take me anyway, would use that long, muscular tail to wrap around me, pinning my arms to my sides and rendering me helpless. But instead he gave me one final stare, then lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it, like an old-fashioned gentleman in a black-and-white movie.
And then he turned and ran through the parking lot. At the top of the ramp, I caught a glimpse of three other males—the Trads who’d come to rescue him. As he joined them, they all turned and sprinted off together.
I couldn’t believe it. He’d let me go.
Chapter Thirteen
“Camille!” Aleandro’s shout broke through my shock.
I spun around as the three men skidded into the parking lot.
“Fucking hell,” Mike swore. “Thank God you’re okay.”
Casey shook his head. “We thought we’d lost you.”
I found myself surrounded by them, arms around me, hands touching my face as though not quite believing I was there.
“I’m okay,” I told them, still breathless, my heart pounding at my close call. Why had Dean left me? He could have snatched me if he’d wanted to, just like so many other Trads had snatched women over the past week, but instead he’d chosen to leave without me. Was what he’d said true—that not all Trads were bad? I found that hard to believe, but I couldn’t deny what had happened right in front of my face.
“What happened?” Casey demanded. “Where did he go?”
“That way, but there’s no point in going after them. They’re long gone.” In truth, I didn’t want Casey or the others chasing after the Trads. It was too dangerous, and we didn’t know what they were capable of. The image of how Dean had changed when he’d orgasmed was fresh in my head. Did all the Trads do that, or had Dean just lost control? Or had he revealed himself to me for a different reason, showing me the truth about what he really was? Was that what they looked like back on their own planet? A part of me desperately wanted to watch the footage from the room so I could marry what I’d believed I’d seen with what had actually happened, while the other part of me wanted to hide away from it all.
“Them?” he said. “You mean you saw more than just Lambert—if that’s even his name, which I highly doubt?”
I nodded. “Yeah, there were three others, that I saw anyway.”
“That’s fucking insane,” Mike said, pushing his hand through his hair and shaking his head in wonder. “What stopped him taking you?”
“I don’t know. He asked me to go, and I said no, and he just left.”
Mike frowned. “He asked you?”
“Yeah. Weird, right?”
Armed agents burst through the door to join us. “They went that way.” I pointed in the direction I’d seen them go. They wouldn’t allow themselves to be caught, though, I was certain of that.
“Come on,” Agent Calicun said, joining us. “That was too dangerous. Let’s get you back to the White House.”
We got back inside the same SUV we’d arrived in. The driver programmed coordinates into the automatic driver to take us back to the White House. I wondered if they’d be able to send over the footage from the room. I guessed the scientists had got what they’d wanted, even if it did mean Dean had escaped.
We drove out of the facility and discovered it was dark outside. The city was eerily creepy. While the power hadn’t been shut off to the entire city, parts of the grid were out, and of course those buildings that were partially destroyed didn’t have any lights on. We crept through the streets, only the headlights of the SUV lighting the way. I hoped we weren’t going to come across more trouble like we had on the way out here. After what had happened at the facility, I thought I’d seen enough action for the night.
But though most of the city was in darkness, I spotted lights in the sky ahead. The view was obscured by the tall buildings surrounding us, but each time I caught a glimpse, I sat up straighter.
“What’s that?”
Casey frowned and leaned forward. “It’s in the direction of the White House.”
My heart picked up pace again, nerves tightening my chest. What were we going to run into now?
We turned a bend, and finally the White House came into full view.
I sucked in a breath, and exclamations of shock came from the men around me.
Hovering above the White House was a giant circular spaceship. Blue lights dotted all around its circumference. Several helicopters, which I assumed belonged to us, darted around the vicinity of the ship like mosquitoes near a porch light.
My heart felt like it was in my throat. Who were they?
“Is it the Trads again?” I dared to ask.
Casey shook his head. “I wouldn’t have thought so. There’s no way we’d have allowed a Trad spaceship to get so close to the White House.”
“So, who are they?” Aleandro asked.
“A different alien race,” I said in wonder, hope lifting my soul.
Mike sat up straighter. “Yeah, those aren’t Trads.”
No, they weren’t, and I knew exactly who was now suspended above the White House.
They were the Custos—the military teams Emperor Elrin had promised would help us.
The Athions had arrived.
THE END
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About the Author
Marissa Farrar has always been in love with being in love. But since she's been married for numerous years and has three young daughters, she's conducted her love affairs with multiple gorgeous men of the fictional persuasion.
The author of more than thirty novels, she has been a full time author for the last six years. She predominantly writes paranormal romance and fantasy, but has branched into contemporary fiction as well.
If you want to know more about Marissa, then please visit her website at www.marissa-farrar.blogspot.com. You can also find her at her facebook page, www.facebook.com/marissa.farrar.author o
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