by Anna Carven
This pregnant body of mine is a revelation.
Everything is a tingling bundle of nerves, melting into pleasure at his touch.
My arousal grows with every caress, taking on a life of its own. It’s like an ember that he stokes with his little touches, turning into a powerful blaze.
I close my eyes and run my fingers through his hair. It’s impossibly soft, neatly trimmed in his usual military crew-cut. The slightly raised points where his horns originate from fall under my thumbs as I explore the familiar contours of his face. They’ve been growing back, but he keeps filing them down, much to my annoyance.
They’re sensitive organs, and they give him pleasure, but he says they’re not practical.
He lets out a low, throaty sound as I run my thumbs over them.
“You cheated,” I whisper, my voice hoarse.
He cocks an eyebrow.
“You said only one finger.”
“Hm.” He rubs a little harder, cutting off any argument. I’m trembling under his touch, which is both gentle and firm. He strokes me faster and the tightness in my core builds. It surges like a wave, the sensation becoming almost unbearable.
At the same time, I don’t want it to end.
But I need release.
It’s coming. He knows it. I know it. He slows down a little, applying only the lightest pressure, because that’s all that is needed.
By now, my body has become fine-tuned to respond to his touch. Every time we do this, the climax comes a little easier, and it becomes more intense.
If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think he’s been training my body to do this.
Now, all that’s needed is a little flick of his finger, and we’re there.
It’s coming. He caresses me once more, with a featherlight touch, and it comes.
That feeling.
It picks me up like a giant tidal wave and carries me along, a powerful sensation that builds and builds, rippling through me, making me cry out.
Just when I think it’s about to crash it grows stronger, and he’s keeping his finger on my clit, holding my hips as I buck and sway, thrusting his fingers into my pussy now, going deep, finding wetness, curling his warm palm around and drawing his fingers out slowly as I climax.
Wave after wave of bliss rips through me, each one more powerful than the one before. I cry out and drag my fingers through his hair, drowning in pure sensation.
My orgasm builds, becoming almost scary in its intensity.
And when release finally comes, it’s glorious.
My whole body writhes and Tarak is there with his lips on the soft skin at the hollow of my neck, grazing me with his fangs, inhaling me. As he moves, his erection presses gently against me, alerting me to his arousal.
I’m basking in deep satisfaction and down there I’m all tingly and warm. I’ve had my fun, and now it’s his turn.
“What would you like, General?” I ask invitingly, my eyes fluttering open as the aftershocks of climax ripple through me.
“You,” he answers.
“I’m all yours,” I rasp, as he spreads my legs, dragging me to the edge of the bed. He unfastens his belt and his Kordolian robes come loose. They slip to the floor, revealing his sculpted torso. His cock springs forth as he drops his black trousers, and I moan in anticipation.
He leans in, dropping to his knees. As I lie on my back at the edge of the bed, he folds my legs up against his torso, kneeling at the bedside.
He circles his hands around my thighs. My legs curl around his taut body. His muscles bunch and flex as he leans in, entering me.
I let out a low moan as he slides into me, the ridges along his cock gliding over my most sensitive parts. I quiver as a deep sensation takes hold, and to my surprise, I’m in the grip of another orgasm.
I cry out, bucking against him as he holds me tight. His lips curve into a satisfied smile.
He starts to move his hips back and forth, slowly at first, then thrusting a little deeper.
He fucks me tenderly, carefully, never once putting pressure on my pregnant belly. He gently draws out his pleasure, his intense gaze fixed on me at all times.
I’m basking in the glow of our lovemaking, enjoying the view from down here. I admire the lean, sculpted planes of his stomach that rise to join impressive pectoral muscles and powerful shoulders. His arms are slightly flexed, accentuating his toned biceps. His forearms are corded with muscle, tapering down to large hands that can be either gentle or deadly.
He’s as impressive a specimen as I’ve ever seen, but the most incredible thing about it all is that this lean, lethal warrior is all mine.
As he thrusts inside me, his expression becomes fiercely possessive.
He takes me slowly. He goes deeper. His massive erection stretches my hyper-sensitive flesh. I pant and moan, biting my lower lip. He trembles and exhales. His lips part slightly, revealing the points of his fangs. I watch him, taking in his elegant features.
The hardness in his expression is all but gone, replaced with a softness he only ever shows to me.
He’s alien and otherworldly and exactly what one would imagine a Kordolian to look like. I look at my legs, pressed against his body, marveling at the contrast between his grey-silver skin and the deep tan of my thighs.
We’re so different, and yet when we’re together, those distinctions don’t matter anymore.
My thoughts are stolen away as that blissful sensation grows, threatening to explode into another orgasm.
I voice my satisfaction as Tarak increases his speed, ever so slightly.
And that little adjustment is enough to send me over the edge, again.
“O-oh.” I cry out as he holds me tight. I come with him inside me, my hips moving back and forth, my pelvic muscles contracting.
He slows his movements, letting my body do its thing, the ripples of my orgasm causing me to clench around his hard shaft.
My body must be doing something right, because all of a sudden, he’s gripping my legs tighter, a low rumble issuing from his throat. He goes taut, closing his eyes as his features twist into an expression of pure pleasure.
And then he comes.
It’s a chain reaction, setting me off again.
This is too much.
I cry out, louder this time. He finishes inside me, his seed spilling forth.
I maneuver my legs so they’re curling around his waist. He curves his hands over my pregnant belly, feeling the tiny vibrations as our child moves. He’s breathing heavily.
“My, my, my,” he whispers. “Look at what this pregnant state has done to your body, my amina.”
“Tell me about it,” I sigh, unable to help the smile that tugs at my lips. “Every time we do this, it just gets better and better.”
The same raging hormones that make me moody and give me sore boobs and make me crave sugar at random times also make me like this.
Constantly horny. Able to have multiple orgasms. They never taught us about any of this in my Human biology course.
And I’ve got my very own skilled Kordolian male, who knows exactly what to do with me when I’m like this.
I arch one eyebrow. “You know, you’ve been away from me for too long.” As I lock my legs around him, he caresses my stomach with gentle, reverent hands. “So as far as I’m concerned, you have a whole lot of making up to do.”
“Noted,” he says with a deadpan expression. “This humble Kordolian is entirely yours, without reservation.”
“Yes,” I agree. “You most definitely are. Except for the humble part.”
And I have no problems with that at all.
CHAPTER THREE
Tarak
I am glad to see the end of the Human residence as we depart, making our way down the narrow, paved pathway. Agreeing to live on Earth on the Federation’s terms was never part of my plan, but when we first arrived, we had to appease the nervous Humans.
By agreeing to stay in a residence of their choosing, we were agreeing to le
t them limit our movements and monitor us. The Humans felt more secure knowing where we were and what we were doing.
That was several cycles ago.
The situation has evolved since then. Humans are coming to terms with the fact that an alliance with us can be most beneficial to them.
Our presence here effectively turns Earth into a militarized force to be reckoned with. Now, other hostile species will think twice before trying to take advantage of Earth and its inhabitants.
Darkness has fallen, giving me welcome relief from the harsh light of the day. My vision is never as acute in the daytime, and if I spend too long in the sun, my skin starts to burn.
The one physical advantage Humans have over Kordolians is their resistance to ultraviolet light. But when the sun disappears over the horizon, we are very much in our element.
For that reason, my hand is on Abbey’s shoulder as we walk. The way is illuminated by soft electric lights, but in the shadows, she is prone to fumbling, so I guide her. In my other hand, I carry her travel bag and my own personal belongings, which consist of nothing more than a few simple garments and an array of small communication and monitoring devices.
I tend to travel light.
We are making our way to the bot-car. It will take us to this island’s skyport, where my stealth flyer is expected to arrive soon.
As we enter the car, my holographic comm device alerts me to an incoming call. I retrieve it from inside my robe. A small three-dimensional image of the caller appears above the screen.
It’s Xalikian.
“General,” he begins, running a hand through his long hair. “Abbey,” he adds, acknowledging my mate.
“Hi Xal,” she smiles.
“I’m sorry Abbey, but I’m going to borrow your General for a little while, and I’m going to speak in Kordolian, because I suspect I’ll end up cursing.”
“Go ahead, Xal,” Abbey says. “You know cursing doesn’t bother me, though.”
“I know, but he gets a little funny if anyone acts less-than-honorable around you.”
“Don’t I know it,” Abbey laughs. “I understand, Xal, so if whatever you need to talk about is so aggravating that you need to curse in Kordolian, go for it.”
They exchange a look.
I glare at my mate. Why do I somehow get the feeling they’re enjoying a silent moment at my expense?
“Xalikian,” I growl in Kordolian. “Get to the point.”
“Yes, Sir,” he says, his expression becoming serious. “The Humans are panicking.”
“Humans are always panicking,” I reply, unconcerned. The bot-car begins to move. “Is this the reason for your call?” Until recently, Xalikian had been staying with us in the diplomatic residence. But several weeks ago, he’d left Nova Terra with his newfound Human mate, the female called Sera, to go and do something called ‘skiing.’
Apparently, there is a place on Earth called The Alps, where it is just as cold as Kythia.
“I’ve just received word from Senator Aquinas that they’ve detected alien flight activity over the Pacific Ocean.” His amber eyes narrow in suspicion. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
I shrug. “I have requisitioned a stealth flyer. If I am to live on this planet, I will not travel around in some substandard Human craft, and I refuse to allow my mate to do the same.” I frown. “Although I’m surprised they were able to detect the stealth flyer’s entry with the cloaking systems activated.” Perhaps I have underestimated the sophistication of Human technology.
The Prince shakes his head. “We can’t be bringing our craft into their atmosphere by stealth. They’ll think we have another agenda.”
“Have we not pandered to them enough already? I am sick and tired of being limited by these ridiculous restrictions, simply because these Humans are uneasy.” Abbey rests a hand on my arm as my tone becomes harsh, cautioning me with her eyes. She can’t understand what we’re saying, but she seems to sense my frustration. “I have pledged my entire fucking fleet to help defend their disorganized mess of a planet, and still they worry?”
Xalikian sighs. “I agree with you, General, but Humans have one of the most complicated political systems I have ever encountered. There are some who don’t support our alliance, and would seek to undermine it. This kind of activity gives them fodder for dissent.”
“Let them dissent. It is nothing to do with me. Every galaxy has its idiots, and you cannot convince them all.”
“That’s all very well and good, Tarak,” Xalikian snaps, “but you’re not the one who has to deal with the fucking Human politicians and their cronies, one of whom just happens to be my mate’s father.” It is rare for his composure to crack like this. I can’t help but wonder what sort of special little hell he has walked into.
His mate Sera is the daughter of a large political dynasty, after all.
It sounds like a recipe for instant aggravation, but Xalikian is a survivor of the Kythian Court. Managing the Humans should be child’s play for him.
“You’re Kordolian nobility,” I say dryly. “Find a way to make them understand. I’m just a General, Xalikian. Politics isn’t my area of expertise. I merely supply the troops and the weapons.”
The Prince blinks. “It’s so difficult to tell when you’re being serious and when you’re messing with me.”
I keep my expression deadpan. If I am indeed subtly mocking him, he will never know. “I am merely stating the obvious. I don’t care for politics, Xalikian, you know that. When enemies threaten us, I will fight, but don’t expect me to play these silly Human games for too long.”
The Prince sighs. “I suppose this is to be expected, considering it’s you, after all.”
“You can’t deny that I’ve shown particular restraint while I’ve been on Earth, Prince.”
“That’s only because you wish to please your Human mate. We all know that if it weren’t for her, you would have implemented a military takeover a long time ago.”
“I don’t deny that. But I have shown restraint.”
“I don’t suppose anything’s going to make you change your mind?”
I stare at Xalikian’s image, not bothering to give him a reply. He knows the answer to that.
The comm beeps gently, a stream of data flickering below the projected image of Xalikian. “Less than a half-phase until my flyer lands,” I inform the Prince. “Are the Humans going to cause me unnecessary headaches?”
“I will inform the Senator,” Xalikian says wryly. “I will also advise him of the assault capabilities of a Kordolian stealth flyer, and why it would be a bad idea for any Humans to engage in any hostile activity.”
“You do that,” I agree. “Your mate’s father seems like the kind of man who can read between the lines. I’m sure he will understand what might happen if the Humans obstruct my pilot’s attempts to land.”
“I’m sure he will,” the Prince says mildly. “You owe me one, General.”
I snort. “Consider it a condition of my ongoing co-operation.”
Xalikian rolls his eyes in a most Human way. He turns his attention to Abbey as he switches to Universal. “Sorry about that, Abbey. Best of health to you and the little one, and don’t let our General terrorize too many Humans. By the way, Sera says hello and that the snow-lodge is yours, any time you wish to visit. The General’s invited, too.”
My mate smiles sweetly. For the entire conversation, she’s been watching me intently. Her sweetness can be deceptive. By now, she’s picked up on the meaning of a few Kordolian words, and I’m sure she’s understood more than she lets on. Not much escapes her, even though she sometimes acts deceptively innocent. “Thank you, Xal. Say hi to Sera for me as well, and enjoy the powder.”
“Will do.” The Prince farewells both of us with a mock-salute as I terminate the communication.
Abbey looks at me questioningly. “So what impossible diplomatic task have you given the poor Prince this time? Does it have something to do with the
fact that we’re not traveling on the public skyflyer?”
She’s as astute as always. “It’s a minor issue,” I shrug. “Nothing to be concerned about. I don’t want you to worry about anything.”
An amused snort escapes her. “If I let you have your way, we’ll probably end up with a small army of groveling Human servants. Someone has to keep you in line, so don’t you worry about me worrying. I’m pregnant, but that doesn’t mean I’m suddenly fragile.”
“Is that so?” I take her hand into mine, staring at her slender Human fingers. Everything about her is soft and fragile. “And what is wrong with having Human servants?” My lips quirk upwards.
“Idiot.” She gently punches my arm. “You’re not getting servants. We can get a dog, but no servants.”
“Dog? I don’t believe I’m familiar with this species.”
“Dogs are amazing. Wait until you meet Nyx and Zeus. They’re adorable.” The affectionate look that crosses her face tells me she is fond of these dog creatures, whatever they are.
As I twine my fingers with hers, I’m filled with a strange emotion. I struggle to identify it at first, but then it hits me.
Contentment.
With her, I am content.
I look at our joined hands. Her soft palm rests against my rough skin, her fingers so small and delicate. We are from entirely different worlds. We are entirely different creatures.
And yet somehow, nature has gifted us with the ability to reproduce.
It beggars belief that a pure female like her has chosen to be with a killer like me.
She’s a gentle creature who has never truly known what it means to raise a hand in anger against an enemy.
As far as I am aware, the only time she has ever harmed another is when she shot a Silent One, a feared Imperial Assassin, in order to protect me.
It wasn’t necessary. I would have dispatched the assassin eventually, but this fragile creature dared to go against her innate nature. Through the clear roof of the flyer, she shot the Silent One in the head with a plasma gun, her aim true and steady.