Kwarq (Lyqa Planet Lovers Book 1)

by Clarke, Nikki

  “Why are you here? I mean, this is so crazy. How did you even get here?” I’m starting to feel overwhelmed. I don’t know whether to run out of the door or stand here and listen to him.

  “I came here with my brother.”

  “You have a brother?” I’m following him, but I’m not really. My mind is racing. I’m trying to keep up.

  “I do.”

  “And you came here with him?”

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “For ta’ani maul.”

  “”Ta’ani—what?”

  He laughs. He’s too happy. I feel like I’m going crazy, and he’s acting like this is the best moment of his life. Maybe he’s like the witch in the gingerbread house, and now that he’s gotten me to his house, he’s gonna eat me.

  “It is like a scavenger hunt for my people. A recreational activity. They happen all over the galaxies. My brother got it for my birthday.”

  “It’s your birthday?”

  “It was.”

  “Oh, happy birthday.”

  He nods, and I don’t know why I’m saying any of this. Maybe I just need this conversation to feel normal, even though if I think about it, it’s not that strange. He’s an alien. But even aliens have birthdays, right? Still…

  “You’ve been following me.” I know it’s true. He all but admitted it before. Why wasn’t I listening before?

  “I have, but not in a stalker-ish way.”

  I frown. “Is there any other way to follow someone? I feel like I should go.”

  “May I have your permission to touch you?”

  “What?”

  His arms are open. He stands waiting for me to let him come close to me. I don’t know why, but I nod my head. Maybe it’s because he’s asked and didn’t just grab me. Maybe it’s the way his yellow eyes soften as he waits patiently for me to give my consent. My brain knows it should be afraid, but I don’t feel it. In fact, I feel safe and calm. Kwarq steps forward and pulls me into his arms. He leans his tall frame over and presses his face into my hair.

  “My lehti, please do not be afraid of me. I will never hurt you. I am not here for any nefarious reason. If you will sit down and let me explain, I hope you will understand.”

  Everything about him holding me like this feels right. He takes a deep breath of my hair, and my hands rise to hold him at the waist. He’s all hard muscle beneath his simple white shirt. I can feel the ridges against my cheek where it’s pressed to his chest and beneath my fingertips. My mouth responds before my brain can chime in.

  “Okay, but you have to tell me what lehti means, first. You keep saying it, and you might be calling me your servant or something.”

  My voice is muffled against his body. I put my hands against his stomach and gently push away, but not before I note the panel of muscles along his abdomen. Jeez.

  He steps back and lets me put some distance between us.

  “I will explain what the leht is if you have a seat and stop thinking about running away.”

  “How do you know I was thinking about running away? Can you read my mind, too?” I peer closely at him and try to fill my head with a bunch of bizarre images to see if there’s any reaction. Instead, I can only think about what he would look like without his shirt on. I grow warm, my body tingles and a little shiver runs through me. Kwarq’s nostrils flare slightly, and his mouth quirks up at the corner.

  “I cannot read minds. Not even yours, but I wish I could if only to know what has gotten you aroused.”

  I stare, blinking, too stunned to be embarrassed.

  “Can—can you smell me?”

  “I can.”

  “Ew.” I pull a face, and his smile widens.

  “I assure you, my lehti, there is nothing ‘ew’ about it. It is the single sweetest scent I have ever smelled in my life. Right before the way you smell when you are laughing and whatever it is that you put in your hair.”

  I’m flattered. I don’t know if I should be, but I am. It’s kind of weird that he can smell me, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

  I mentally snap myself out of the moment. This dude is an alien. He’s talking about loving the way my pussy smells, and I can’t just be all up in his apartment getting gushy over it. This is crazy. And as if he really can hear the battle going on in my mind, Kwarq rolls his eyes and sighs heavily.

  “Stop guessing about what I can tell you to ease your mind. Sit so we can talk.”

  I glance around the nearly bare room. “Sit where?”

  He cocks his head to the side in a very human gesture of impatience before he folds himself down cross-legged on the floor. He’s pretty flexible for such a big guy.

  “Down here with me if it suits you.” He seems to look nervous for a moment before he adds, “I did not think that you would end up here. I should have made an effort to make my home more presentable for you, lehti, I apologize.”

  He raises to his knees in front of me, which puts us basically at the same height, and pulls me down so he can press his cheek to mine like he did on the bus before. It’s such a lovely gesture, really, and I immediately feel guilty for making him feel like he has to apologize to me.

  “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t make you feel embarrassed about your home. That’s rude.”

  I don’t know what makes me do it, but I lean forward and take hold of the sides of his face with my hands. The yellow of his eyes flickers as I lean down to press my forehead to his, holding it for a moment, nuzzling our noses together in the same comforting way he did a moment earlier.

  Something happens. It’s almost like every emotion I could ever imagine is triggered inside of me, and I want to cry, but like good cry, and I want to scream with joy, and I want to laugh. I’m almost consumed by this sudden feeling of happiness and safety. I sink into it.

  “My lehti.” Kwarq’s voice catches and I lift my head to see that his eyes are intense. The yellow is a little fire that swirls and flickers as he looks at me. “It means ‘my beat’.”

  “Huh?” I pause as the warm moment breaks.

  “Lehti it means ‘my beat’.”

  “Oh.”

  He smiles again. “You are disappointed?”

  “What? No. I mean, it’s probably just something that’s lost in translation. I guess I imagined something a little…softer. Like sweetheart or honey.”

  Kwarq sits back again and pulls me down with him. I’m cradled in his lap. One arm comes around to hold my hip. With the other, he lifts my hand and places it against his chest. When I go to pull my hand away. He holds it firm. Not tight but firm.

  “You have my permission to touch me.”

  I let him press my hand flat against the hard space between his bulging pecs.

  “Do you feel that?”

  I nod my head, but I don’t have to. I can hear it. The sound of his heart is like an echo in my own body, and my eyes widen when I realize that this is the sound I’ve been hearing. But then I realize too that there is another thump beneath his chest, and it’s only slightly off rhythm to the other one. It is also weaker. I probably wouldn’t have noticed it if I wasn’t touching him.

  “Do you have two hearts?”

  “I do.”

  He’s looking at me patiently, letting me absorb this alien anatomy lesson. His hand is still over mine, warm and gentle.

  “What do they do? Why is one so loud?”

  He does that patient little smile again, and I start to feel like he’s trying to put me at ease before he really blows my mind.

  “It is not loud. It is an echo. Only you can hear it.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because it is yours.”

  Kwarq

  She doesn’t want to run, at least.

  “I do not mean that metaphorically,” I clarify when she looks at me skeptically. “All the men of my kind are born with two hearts. One, the second heart, is small and functions as yours does, supplying oxygen through blood to the body. The other, the first heart, lies dormant unti
l the moment we meet the person who makes it beat for the first time. We call this moment, the leht, and the person who makes it happen is your lehti, your beat.”

  She listens intently, but I can see that her mind is moving quickly all over the place. She’s trying to connect what I’ve said to herself. She’s trying to figure out what this means for us.

  “What does it do? The other heart, the first one? Why does it only beat when you meet someone?”

  “Not just someone. The one you are meant for. Your partner. It also supplies blood to the body. Blood for one’s lehti.”

  Her head jerks back on her neck and her nose scrunches.

  “What do you mean, for one’s lehti? Like, you share blood? Like some weird vampire shit?”

  I roll my eyes again. I have become very fond of this gesture I learned from her. It comes in handy.

  “No. It supplies blood in service to one’s lehti. It supplies blood to a very specific part of the body. It beats to provide pleasure.”

  Her eyes widen slightly as my meaning becomes clear. She pulls her lips in, but that doesn’t stop her dimples from showing.

  “You’re telling me that you have an entirely separate heart for the sole purpose of getting your dick hard?” Her eyes widen more. “Wait, you do have a dick, right?”

  “I do.”

  I’m please to know she cares. I hope this means she is entertaining the idea of being with me. Because it definitely means I’m finding it very hard at the moment to keep from showing her just how my first heart works.

  “But it is not just to make me aroused. It also provides the energy I need to protect you and provide for you and connect only to you.”

  “You keep saying ‘you.’” Her eyebrow is raise, but I hear the nervousness in the statement and the anticipation.

  “Because you are my lehti.”

  “I am?”

  “You are.”

  Her eyes shift back and forth in their sockets before settling back on me.

  “Okay, and what does that mean?”

  “It means that if you will have me, you are mine.”

  “Your what?”

  “My lehti.”

  “Yeah, but what does that mean?”

  Our hands are still pressed over my hearts. I lean close to her until our foreheads rest together.

  “Listen. What do you hear?”

  She holds completely still. There is only the faintest tremor running through her. After a moment, she answers.

  “I hear your heart.”

  “Just mine?”

  She shakes her head, almost like she doesn’t want to admit it.

  “Mine, too.”

  I nod. “They beat together. As one. Whenever we are together, they will connect to each other in this way. Do you understand?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “It means that from the moment you passed me on that bus two months ago, I have been here for you. The moment you became known to me, my first heart has beaten only for you. I have only stayed here to watch you, protect you, and wait for this moment when I could tell you all of these things. The moment when I could ask you to be mine.” I wait and let my words sink in a moment. “I of course mean all of this in as not stalker-ish a way as possible.”

  “You watched me for two months?”

  “I did.”

  “But not because you are a stalker?”

  “Not because I am a stalker.”

  She frowns as she peers up at me, and there is such disbelief in her expression.

  “Then why?”

  “Because I love you.”

  She doesn’t respond right away. She’s staring at me. The room is quiet, and my senses are on hyperdrive. I can see, smell, and hear everything with her this close. Our hearts race, and I focus on her breathing. It’s quick, but even. The tremor running through her body vibrates on each exhale.

  I don’t know what to expect, but it isn’t for her to lean forward and press her full, luscious lips against mine. I’m stunned for a moment. I don’t move, not even when she turns into me, wraps her arms around my neck and twists her head to the side, licking along the seam of my mouth. She presses soft kisses to my lips, giving attention to each one.

  Still I don’t move. I let her continue in this way, pressing her lips against mine with varying pressure. She licks against the seam again, like she wants me to open my mouth. I keep my mouth shut and concentrate on keeping my cock from rising. My first heart is beating madly, as is her’s. It’s already trying to get as much blood to my cock as possible. I will it to slow down. At the same time, I will her to give me what I need, so I can respond like I want to.

  “Why aren’t you kissing me?”

  Her voice is soft and nervous. I can tell she’s being brave right now. She’s giving in to what she feels, even if it’s at war with her mind. I swallow, my throat dry with the emotion of finally being in this moment.

  “You have not yet given me permission to.” I hope she does soon. Otherwise, I will have to stop her, and I don’t want to do that.

  She pulls back, and I miss the feel of her against me almost immediately. She’s smiling. It’s such a sad, sweet smile that I’m almost sorry I caused it.

  “Kwarq, you can kiss me.”

  Chapter 9

  Amina

  He presses his lips to mine very gently. He’s a good kisser. Even though his movements are gentle, they’re sure. So far so good. Nothing alien about a little kissing. I kiss him back more firmly, and he responds in turn.

  “Your lips are so soft. I have been dreaming about feeling them since I saw you.”

  He pulls away and stares reverently at my mouth before leaning back in and kissing me again. His lips are full and smooth. Our mouths sink into each other’s.

  “Your’s are pretty nice, too,” I murmur around the little pecks he’s giving me. “I guess, since we’re kissing, I can assume that means you’re down with the swirl, huh?” I’m joking, but honestly his constant flattery makes me feel a little uncomfortable. Everything he thinks he likes about me is everything I’ve been taught to see as unappealing about myself. He breaks the kiss and peers curiously at me.

  “What does that mean, ‘down with the swirl’?”

  I laugh. “It means you like Black girls. That you don’t mind dating me. It’s actually not a really good saying. I was being facetious. I’m still a little thrown off by this whole thing. It’s not always easy to tell when someone likes me for the right reasons.”

  His brow furrows deeper. “Why is it hard to believe I would find you genuinely beautiful? Are you not considered beautiful here?”

  I look away, so he doesn’t see how awkward I feel right now. That’s a pretty loaded question. I’m not sure I’m down for American Beauty Standards 101. I mean, I know I’m pretty, but I still have an entire culture that tells me there are limitations to my appeal. “No, it’s not that. I’m considered attractive, but not really universally beautiful, you know?”

  He frowns. His hand comes up to run across my hair, and I flinch instinctively. He lowers his hand. When I chance a look at him, I see that he appears angry.

  “I do not know. Who has said you are not beautiful?”

  This isn’t the response I’m expecting. His skin vibrates again. I reach out and run my hands along his arms. It stops.

  “No one, it’s just a thing here. Some people are kind of automatically considered less pretty.”

  “Based on what?” He seems furious, and I’m not sure if it’s because my little insecurity has stopped our make-out session, or because people may think I’m ugly.

  “Based on a lot of things.”

  “Like your skin tone?” As he says this, he leans forward and kisses my cheek, running his soft beard along my skin. His hand slips down to cup my breast and I suck in a breath when he tweaks my nipple, pinching it gently before rolling his palm over the tightened tip. I’m panting. My chest puffs out quickly beneath is hand.

  “That and other things
.” I manage to breath this out around the desire coursing through my body.

  “Like your hair?” He lifts his hands and sinks his fingers into my curls. This time I don’t flinch when his fingertips press lightly against my scalp. Suddenly, my desire is laced with an intense melancholy. My throat tightens and tears prickle at my eyelids. No man has ever touched me like this before. I’m too shocked at the sincere intimacy of his affection, and my sudden change in response, to do more than nod my head in response.

  “Like your beautiful, beautiful mouth?”

  He kisses me, pressing deeply against my lips. The tears that have started falling down my cheeks mingle between us. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him close. I want this. I don’t even know what it is yet, but I know this isn’t a feeling I will ever feel again. One of total acceptance. I grab hold of it and take as much as I can.

  When I feel the smooth, wet tip of his tongue swipe at my lips, I don’t hesitate. I open for him, and he sweeps in, caressing and rubbing along the sensitive inside of my mouth. His tongue feels thin. Not super thin, but thinner than a human tongue. It’s the first unexpected difference, and it occurs to me again that he is an alien. He literally came from another planet.

  Our tongues mingle, his twirling around mine with impressive agility. My tears are forgotten as every flick of his tongue goes straight down to my pussy. Each lick triggering a phantom lick down there. He grabs hold of the back of my neck and keeps me still while he works more of his tongue into my mouth. I moan around it, loving the silky feel. Loving the little thrill that sparks through my body. He presses deeper, giving me more, and I start to feel full. There’s barely room for me to move against him, and still he gives me more with a fierce, low growl. The tip of his tongue reaches the back of my throat and it tickles my tonsils, causing me to gag and push him away.

  “I am sorry, did I hurt you?”

  He looks panicked and a little dazed. He was clearly caught in the moment. I, however, am staring at his mouth.

  “What’s wrong with your tongue?”

  I cover my mouth with my hand, almost like a barrier. What the hell did I just feel?