Mate Abduction (Alien Abduction Book 9)

by Eve Langlais

  The breathless feeling was back with Thyos. When he hooked one arm on the rock lip and offered the other for her to take, she didn’t hesitate. Her hips swayed as she joined him and crouched. This close, she could see the shape of his body under the water, his legs shadowy in the deepness.

  “Does anything live in there?” she asked. There was nothing floating atop or projecting through the surface. Not a single weed. It should have been reassuring.

  “Nothing that will come near us. It’s safe.”

  She highly doubted that. Being near him was anything but.

  Sitting first on her ass, she dipped her toes into the water, submerging both feet, not realizing she held her breath until her lungs strained. She heaved in some air and tried to relax as she focused her feet in the water. Nothing else.

  “You planning on coming in today? I’d prefer setting up camp while there is daylight,” he teased, but not in a mean fashion.

  “I’m coming.” Not yet. But possibly soon. He was attractive. She gripped his hand as she slipped into the water, the chill making her gasp. “It’s cold.” The water dropped in temperature as it got deeper.

  “Only cold until you start moving. Make your body work a little, and it will feel fine.”

  “Work my body how?” She clung to the lip of the rocky ledge. If she let go, she knew she wouldn’t immediately sink. Or was she assuming too much? Alien planet, it might have different laws of physics.

  She dropped her chin to stare at the water and could see her toes resting on the rock below the surface. Just her feet, then his were beside hers. A good bit bigger than hers. Darker, too. She liked knowing he was near.

  “Push your lower body away from the rock and extend your legs.”

  She knew what he meant. “You want me to flutter kick.”

  Ryan had been on the swim team, and she’d watched him quite a bit for the cheap thrills and the making out in his car after.

  “Not yet, just hold yourself in that position until you feel the buoyancy of the water.”

  “You can’t feel buoyancy.”

  “Yes, you can but only once you lighten your body by getting in tune with the water,” he insisted.

  “Floating is not some magical trick. Either you’re heavy enough to sink or you’ve got some fat or fluffy spots that help you stay on top.”

  “I see why you don’t know how to swim,” was his grumbled reply.

  “Are you calling me difficult?” she sputtered.

  “I think you are arguing so that you can avoid trying. Probably too scared.”

  Maybe she was a little. This was water. She’d had nightmares about it for a long time.

  “You are scared. Why?”

  Despite having kept it a secret for a long time, she found herself telling him. “My dad drowned when I was little. A fishing accident. Water freaks me out. Took me years before I could get in a bath. I know it was a fluke. People swim all the time, it’s just…” She glanced down at the water and trembled.

  Suddenly, he wasn’t just beside her. Touching and yet not, he formed a cage around her body, his legs bracketing hers, his hands gripping the rocky lip beside her own. “I’m not going to let you drown.”

  She believed him. She couldn’t have said why. But she let out a shuddering breath. “You’d better not.”

  He dipped his head, and his breath tickled the lobe of her ear. “You’re my sykyrah. I will never let you down.”

  Probably the hottest thing anyone had ever said to her. She let go of the rock wall and turned, placing her fingers on his shoulders before she could sink like the heaviest rock to the bottom.

  He met her gaze instantly. Glowing, his expression intent.

  “You shouldn’t say that.” Just like she shouldn’t be touching him. Touching that bronzed skin proved it soft and warm. Hairless, too, his chest smooth, and not because he shaved. Her lower body dangled in the water parallel to his. They even brushed a little bit. He could have easily pinned her to the rock if he’d wanted.

  She eyed his mouth, waiting—hoping—for a kiss.

  “I will say what I feel for you because it’s true.”

  There was something highly arousing about having a male, a man of this much virility, declaring himself. Finding her attractive.

  Wait. Did he find her attractive? He certainly appeared to flirt and tease but never actually touched her. Was that because he kept true to his word? Or was he not all that interested?

  Why was the answer suddenly important?

  “Do you think I’m pretty?”

  “Pretty seems too mundane a term. Exotic, perhaps.”

  “Hardly exotic with my red hair,” she said, scrunching her nose.

  “I like the color of it and the spots on your skin.” He brushed a thumb over her cheek, and her breath caught.

  “You said I was alien to you.”

  “I also said you were beautiful.”

  He had. She couldn’t hold his gaze and stared at his chin. “This bond thing you’re so keen on. What does it do? How does it work? I assume it’s some kind of marriage. Does the woman suddenly become your slave?”

  He laughed. “Hardly. We judge on merit, not gender.”

  “Until someone gets pregnant, I’ll wager. Then the woman gets stuck at home watching the kids.”

  He shook his head. “Some do. In some families, the males choose to raise the children. While others hire the services of someone better suited to the task.”

  “You mean they get a nanny?”

  He shrugged. “If you mean a guardian of children while the parents are away or working, then yes.”

  “How many kids do you want?” she asked suddenly.

  “I don’t know. Ask my mother and she’ll tell you at least a half-dozen. She wishes she could have had more than four.”

  “You have three sisters?”

  “And possibly a bastard brother, but we don’t talk about him,” he said with a grin.

  She blinked at him. “You have to talk about it. That was a total soap opera mention.”

  “What does a cleansing opera have to do with family scandal?”

  It was impossible not to grin at his oddly literal interpretation. “More than you know.”

  “The talking helps you, doesn’t it?” It startled to know he observed her so closely that he noticed she was calmer.

  “Logically, I know the chances of me drowning are slim. But…”

  “It is like when you burn yourself. You remember the heat and the pain therefore you flinch.”

  “That’s actually a pretty good analogy.” Her nose wrinkled.

  “The important thing, though, is to train yourself to not let that fear grow.”

  “I’m in the water, aren’t I? I’d say I’m doing good.”

  “Very well, which is why I’m going to move away, slowly.”

  Instantly, she went rigid, and her nails dug into him. “I don’t know if I’m ready.” What must he think to see her terrified of something so basic?

  His expression remained patient, not a hint of mockery in it. “You’re ready, and I’m right here. If it helps, keep a hold of me as you draw your body into a straight line.”

  “Is this the part where I’m supposed to tuck my pelvis and clench my cheeks?” She remembered when Katrina tried to show her in the oily stuff the Zonians used for bathing.

  “Your cheeks have nothing to do with it.” He looked adorable when she confused him.

  She glanced down to his chest instead. It didn’t help.

  He tilted her chin, and his gaze was soft as he said, “You can do this.”

  “Sure, I can. I just need to hope my ass floats.” She glanced at the water, stalling some more, unable to shed the irrational fear. She’d be fine.

  “Ready?”

  She almost yelled no. “What if I lose my grip on you?”

  “I’m here.”

  Reassuring words. She took a deep breath, another. He waited patiently. Too patiently.

  “If yo
u tell anyone what a pussy I am about water, I will kill you,” she threatened. She still had one knife strapped to her ankle.

  “This will be our secret,” he promised, and then he drifted away from her, meaning her arms fully extended.

  She dangled practically without support. If he moved any more, she might lose her tenuous grip. She stretched and leaned forward, trying not to let panic fill her. She kept her fingers relaxed on his skin rather than clinging to him like a leech and screeching she was gonna die.

  Barely. She was one heartbeat away from full panic. Her body drifted, rising behind her, lying her flat, but not quite level. Her chin dipped into the water. She might have whimpered.

  Immediately, he was soothing her. Kind of. Rather than mouth platitudes, he told her what to do. “Close your mouth and hold your breath if you go under.”

  “I’m not going under,” she muttered.

  He did, though. His sudden dip meant she lost her grip on his shoulders. Panic, waiting in the wings, immediately rushed in, and she flailed, splashing water into her face, even opening her mouth to scream and feeling liquid rush in.

  Then his hands were there on her waist, holding her steady and above the surface, his voice snapping, “Spit that out!”

  She obeyed, thankful he knew what to say because anything else and she would have probably cried.

  “Take a deep breath. Again,” he said.

  She breathed, ashamed of herself. Of her fear.

  “Why did you panic?”

  “You went under.”

  “I did. And I’m fine.”

  More than fine, he was slick and wet. He held them aloft, face to face. He leaned in and rubbed his cheek against hers. Odd, yet soothing.

  “You don’t have to fear,” he rumbled,

  “Promise you’ll hold me.”

  “Always.”

  It was then she realized it wasn’t his arms around her but his tail!

  Twelve

  “Please don’t scream. I might go deaf.” His tone was dry, but she heard the underlying fear. Was she going to reject him for being different?

  She held tight to her panic and took in the situation. His hands were skimming the water keeping them afloat while his tail curled around her. It wasn’t crushing her to death like an anaconda or slimy as expected. Hell, she’d thought it was his arm. In a sense, it was another limb.

  She glanced at the tail, a bit rougher in texture compared to the rest of him. Gentle in the way it held her.

  She smiled at him. “Let’s try that floating thing again.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “I hate being scared.”

  “I’m right here.”

  A fact she kept reminding herself of as he moved away, and once more, she stretched to follow him. This time, she didn’t panic when he sank, rather she kept her arms and legs moving. Awkwardly, but she treaded water. She ignored the water covering her chin and lapping at her lip. She wouldn’t let panic prevail.

  “Very good,” Thyos purred. “Now, put your face in the water and blow.”

  “Can’t I blow something else?”

  He must have caught the innuendo, because his nostrils flared and his eyes went molten. “Perhaps later you can show me what you mean. Right now, it’s time for your second lesson.”

  With those words, he sank underwater, though not far. She could still see him. He waved and smiled. He made it look easy.

  Damn him. She inhaled a breath and stuck her face in the water.

  It wasn’t horrible, and after a second, she even opened her eyes and saw him staring back at her, mere inches from her face. It startled a yell from her that was more bubbles than anything. Before she should heave in a startled breath, she was projected above the surface.

  She sucked in air and yelled. “Jeezus, don’t scare me like that!”

  He tucked her close, and his expression held amusement as he said, “Do I scare you?”

  He did, but not for any reason he’d think.

  “You wish I was scared of you,” she snorted, trying to make light of the situation.

  “That’s good. Are you ready to try again?”

  “No,” she grumbled, even as she let go of the shoulders she’d been gripping again.

  This time when she put her face in the water, she knew to expect his. That was only the first of the lessons.

  More followed. He taught her what she needed to know. Taught and nothing else. Another guy might have used this as his chance to put his hands all over her in a way that had nothing to do with swimming. She kind of expected it, yearned for it even.

  He was a perfect gentleman.

  She could have screamed in frustration.

  The only time he ever laid hands on her was in the beginning when she panicked. Even then, his hands acted in a dispassionate manner, never once inappropriately placed. It was respectful and maddening all at once, which was why that evening, as they sat across each other at the fire she built because she didn’t want him to think her useless, she blurted out, “Are you attracted to me?”

  “What makes you think I’m not?” was his reply as he snapped some dry branches and tossed them onto the fire.

  “You had me half naked in the water this afternoon. Any other guy would have at least tried to kiss me. Cop a feel, something.”

  Thyos sounded amused as he said, “Are you complaining because I didn’t?”

  “I’m just wondering. Because you keep saying I’m the one”—and yes she did give him air quotes—“but you act like an older brother instead.”

  “Would it please you to know that my control is being stressed to its limits?”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  “I don’t need to lie about my desire for you.” The words emerged as a low growl. “I’ve thought about you since the moment we met. You are in my dreams, usually wearing nothing. In my fantasies, there’s nothing we haven’t done. Not a part of you that I haven’t tasted.

  “Oh.” She fell silent, unsure what to say next, which was a new thing for her.

  “You ask why I haven’t seduced you? It is because I made you a promise. And I will not break my word.”

  “So you do want to seduce me?” She might have said it coyly.

  “More than you can imagine.”

  The statement pleased her. “But you won’t do a thing unless I ask?”

  “When we come together, it will be of your choosing. Even if it kills me,” he added in a dark mutter.

  Did he know how close she was to saying hell yeah? “Here’s the thing, even if I wanted to, I won’t, because from the sounds of it, if we have sex, then I’ll have married you.”

  “Not quite. The bonding of sykyrah is more than just copulation.”

  “Does it involve magical words or some kind of blood ritual?”

  “No. And if this is your way of asking if sex will change our arrangement, then fear not. At the end of the bargained eight days, even if we indulged in much stupendous coitus, if you choose to leave, I will respect my vow.”

  “Why should I believe you?” Part of her was tempted by him, but she worried that she’d be making a lifelong mistake. She barely knew him, and while she was growing to like him, they were still literally worlds apart.

  “I can give you nothing more than my word as a warrior. May the goddess strike me down if I lie.”

  He remained alive. Which meant nothing to an atheist like her.

  For sleeping that night, she had her own mattress, a thin foam thing that managed to reduce the hardness of the ground. Her blanket was also thin and yet managed at the same time to feel heavy and warm. She slept alone while Thyos took a spot across the fire.

  Still bloody well respecting her. Waiting for her to give in to her hormones. Hormones that were screaming, Why not?

  If sex wouldn’t marry them, then why hold back? Who knew when she’d find someone again that made her feel horny and sexy?

  She briefly thought about the human settlement he’d show
n her. Maybe she’d find someone there, but what if she didn’t? What if he was her chance for a bit of fun?

  “Thyos.”

  “Yes, Belle.” There he was with that soft version of her name.

  “Promise it won’t commit me to anything.”

  He took a long moment before replying. “I would never force you to do anything, Belle. If you stay with me, it has to be your choice, no matter what happens between us.”

  For some reason she believed him. That and she was done fighting her attraction.

  Rather than waste more time, she rose from her mattress and strode over to his. He was sitting, the blanket over his lap, his upper body bare. She knelt, her knees on the mattress.

  “Don’t think this means anything.” She leaned in to kiss him. Her mouth pressed against his, and it was like embracing a statue.

  Didn’t he want to kiss her? Was he about to reject her?

  “Are you seducing me, Belle?” he asked, his words an anguished moan.

  “Yeah.” She cupped his cheeks, and that was when she unleashed the storm.

  He kissed her back, hard, powerful. The forceful slant of his mouth claimed her lips, her breath, her senses.

  He dragged her into his lap, and she felt the hardness of him barely concealed by the blanket, a throbbing presence under her bum.

  His kiss was everything. Lips, tongue, sucks and nips, slides and sighs. She found herself astride his lap, her thighs on either side of his hips, her hands cupping his cheeks, kissing him back just as passionately.

  His fingers dug into her waist under the hem of her shirt, flesh to flesh. It seemed like too much between them. She pulled out of the kiss long enough to strip it.

  His eyes were molten gold. “So beautiful,” he growled before dipping his head.

  She’d stripped and washed her bralette earlier, meaning he latched onto an erect peak. And sucked.

  She felt it all the way to her pussy and cried out. Her fingers dug into the silken strands on his head. She held him and mewled and undulated with each of his caresses.

  He sucked and nibbled on her nipples. He switched sides and tugged on her erect nubs, giving her jolt after pleasurable jolt. She rocked and ground herself against him.