by Lisa Lace
The Blue Star breaks away from the dock on top of the building. I watch out the large window as Eris’s surface grows farther and farther away from us.
“Did you strap her down?” I ask.
Mor nods. “She is set for takeoff. I also used a sedative spray to calm her down.”
I grimace. “Great. She’s going to think we’re kidnapping her. This is why I’m the face-man. Why did I send you to pick her up again?”
Mor raises an eyebrow at me. “It’s not as though you’re a fugitive, Your Highness.”
I bite my tongue. Stupid question. “Alright, engaging thrusters. Hyperdrive is ready when you are.”
Mor nods, looking embarrassed, and avoids my eyes. He’s a fine warrior, but not so much of a good diplomat—although he’s good at reining my crazy ass in.
The ship begins to shake. I give Mor a thumbs-up, and in a matter of seconds, Eris’s thin surface is below us. The force pushes against us, but entering space is no real challenge for the Blue Star.
“Turning gravity on now,” Mor says.
This is the worst part. He flips the switch. The engine room lets out a loud groan as the gravitational pull is engaged. For a moment, the force yanks us down. I adjust myself back into a comfortable position.
“Okay, setting course for Omicron.” My hands slide across the panel of blinking buttons as I enter the coordinates of the cluster, the system, and the planet itself, and we begin our trip back to Omicron.
Everything seems to be going fine for the first few hours. I lean back in the driver’s seat, staring out into space. It’s a wondrous sight, watching the stars and solar systems fly by. Not many get to experience the great vastness of space and travel the way we do.
But Mor and I don’t have much of a choice. We don’t have a real home anymore, not outside this ship and occasionally Vezda.
I scan over the massive screen in front of us. The map shows six days and twenty-one hours are left on the return trek.
I stand up out of the seat and stretch. “Mor?”
“Hm,” he grunts, opening his tired eyes.
I roll my neck and take a deep breath. “How often do we feed her?”
“What?”
“The human.”
He leans forward and rests his square chin in his large hand. He closes his eyes and blinks several times. “Probably when we eat. Her biology is compatible with both yours and mine.”
“Okay, I was just checking.” But I feel stupid. Of course, she’d be compatible. Otherwise, there’d be no point in the king marrying a human.
I lean underneath the control panel and open the customized refrigerator. I find only three bottles of Baromenian beer tucked away. Damn. Why didn’t I pack some more? I try to keep the fridge full, but I guess after being stuck on this ship for six days without any stops, one small container wasn’t going to hold enough beer for two weeks. I should have installed two.
“Mor, have you been drinking my beer?”
“You mean your piss water?”
I reach in and pull one of the large glass tubes out.
Just when I’m about to open it, I hear the faintest thump. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“That thump.”
He shrugs, clearly clueless. I hear it again, and this time, he swivels in his chair and pulls up the system controls of the Blue Star on the monitor. “Everything looks good.”
It happens again; this time it's louder.
“I’m gonna go check the engine room.” I sigh, standing up.
Mor’s eyes watch me as I walk to the door. “Maybe you should check on the girl?”
“Why?”
“It seems like the right thing to do. Besides, you can untie her. We’re stabilized now. And it may ease her hostility.”
“Right.”
I step down and press my hand against the sensor. It scans, and the door slides open.
Cool blows gently through the hall, and something overwhelms me. Something intoxicating.
I pause. I can smell her; her scent is strong and sweet. I deeply inhale. Her aroma is far more appealing than any I’ve ever smelled. Perhaps I should check on her.
The door closes behind me with a thud as I walk down the narrow hall. The cell is at the back of the ship, next to the engine room.
I stop, staring at the handle. I’m sure she’s fine, but I should check, just in case. I peer through the two-way mirror on the door.
The walls are thick, designed to contain both powerful beings and their weapons. It’s a prison, but it’s insulated.
A gorgeous human woman with dark hair, dark eyes, and lush curves sits on the low bed. She’s strapped against the wall next to it—there are a number of straps around the walls, just in case we have to hold multiple people—but she doesn’t look comfortable.
She lifts herself slightly against the bed and kicks the metal frame. So that’s where the mysterious noise was coming from.
I take a step forward, and her head lifts up.
Fucking Three Suns, I breathe. Never in my life have I viewed such beauty. Her hair is as black as the night sky, and her skin is smooth. Her lips are full; her nose, elegant. If only she didn’t look so pissed off.
Her full breasts move as her arms yank. “Is someone there?” she shouts between her full pink lips. Mor wasn’t kidding about her proportions, or that spirit. Her hazel eyes seem to be staring right through me. They glisten under thick lashes.
Now, I understand why she was chosen and why we were hired. Anyone who sees her would instantly be filled with desire, captivated by her in every way.
I adjust my hard cock as it presses against my pants, and take a deep breath, trying to think of the cold of space so I calm down. I lean against the door, and there’s a thump.
She hears me. I can tell by the way she pushes herself back against the wall.
“Get away from me.” Her eyes move frantically around.
Can she really sense me? I lean and stare through the glass, captivated beyond politeness. Her chest rises and falls quickly, and light beads of sweat appear on her forehead.
She’s scared. I have to make her feel better. I can’t bear the thought of such an amazing woman in discomfort.
I press my hand against the glass door. The scanner lightly tingles my hand, and it opens. I walk in, my arms raised and my most charming smile spreading wide.
Emily
I kick the wall of the cell with my heel. The shock is absorbed, but I try it again. There has to be a weak spot or some way I can get out of here.
The sedative has worn off, but the fertility drug from the agency has definitely been kicking in. With the sedative and my fear wearing off, I’m suddenly aware that I’m—well, I’m pretty horny. I’d rubbed one out a few times while I was there, but I just kind of thought I was bored.
Being tied up isn’t helping matters, either. Josh would never do it, but I’d always wanted to try something like this.
Too bad my first experience being tied to a bed is coming while I’m some kind of prisoner and unwilling bride for an alien king.
Well, at least I’m not bored anymore.
I jerk my arms fast, hoping my bonds will release if I tug long enough. I feel the walls of the cell shake around me as the door opens.
I tug on the leather straps tied around both my arms. The straps are connected to the metal cot welded into the white enameled floor. My wrists burn from yanking on them for the past few hours.
Then the door opens, and he stands before me in the doorway. A strange and confusing wave of emotion dumps into my stomach, and I grow rigid.
Golden glowing eyes like burning ochre fall onto mine.
My heart skips. I can’t look away, nor do I want to. Something plunges into my gut. Is it desire? I try to ignore it, but it is already reaching between my legs. I shift my weight. No one has ever made me feel this way and definitely not with just one passing glance.
His jaw hasn’t dropped, but he looks capti
vated. The glow of his eyes flickers. He directs his gaze up, and I am finally released from his spell.
“What do you want?” I mean to sound assertive and demanding, but it comes out as weak and pathetic.
With his powerful eyes tilted away, I can assess him. He’s tall, but not like the other one. He’s within a human height range, lanky, and his skin is a dark tan, with an almost amber shine to it. Intricate winding tattoos of dark gold shine on his exposed skin, transparent and faintly sparkling. I don’t recognize the strange symbols, but they stop at his neck.
He is unreasonably gorgeous. Long white hair falls over his face and past his shoulders, but it’s his eyes, richer than bright rays of an evening sunset, that make my heart hammer in my chest. A flicker of a grin passes his lips, and then he gives me a wide smile.
Why am I so turned on? It’s almost unfair.
“You need to stop moving, or you will hurt yourself.” His voice is like liquid brass, sweet and low. His accent is rich; the words roll out of his mouth melodically.
“Fuck you,” I clench my teeth.
“I’m not here to hurt you. I’m sorry my companion was so rude. I gave him a talking-to. However, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t punch or kick me.”
He walks forward slowly. He gets on one knee, and his hands reach down to grab the straps. We are close; my heart races. I don’t know if it is from fear or arousal, but my body is shaking.
I sense the danger in him. He moves like a military man, like a warrior, but also saunters like a jaguar. Then our eyes catch one another once more, and I feel as though I can’t breathe. He unlatches the first strap around my left wrist.
I stare at him intently. Warmth radiates from his trim, firm body. His black shirt clings tightly to his skin, revealing veiny forearms covered with those strange tattoos. There, on the loop of his black leather belt, a curved knife rests on his hip in its sheath.
An idea passes through me quickly. He is close enough for me to pull it right out and stab him with it.
I suddenly feel his eyes on me, as though he’s reading my mind. His hand fumbles with the strap of my right arm.
I don’t wait. This could be the only shot I have.
I reach for the hilt of the blade and yank it out with a quick jerk. It pulls free, but before I can even swing it, his hand wraps tightly around my wrist. At first, his face shows confusion, and then it shifts to amusement.
The dangerous flicker reappears in his eyes. “I don’t think so,” he says. His smooth voice entrances me. It’s almost enough to make me stop.
But then, I kick him with all my might, right in the gut. He lets out a breath of air when I make contact with his hard abdomen.
“That fucking hurt,” he winces. Then before I can react, he twists my arm and forces me to drop the knife. The knife clangs against the floor.
Rage and terror climb their way through me. I kick and squirm under his firm grasp. “Let me go,” I spit.
He jerks me forward, and suddenly, he is holding both my wrists up against the wall over my head with one large hand.
The ghost of a smile appears back onto his lips. “Impressive, especially for a non-combatant. If I let you go, will you stop fighting and trying to hurt me?”
“Leave me alone!”
“I want to, but I need to make sure everyone on the ship, yourself included, is safe first. Truce?”
He’s really strong. There’s no way I can get out of this.
It occurs to me that force isn’t the only way to get what I want.
I lower my eyes, trying to channel every moment of stage femme fatale-roles through myself. “I’m sorry. I was just so frightened,” I drawl. I look up at him for effect, then lower my eyes. “You’re sure you won’t hurt me?”
He cocks his head to the side. “I promise.”
I lift my hands, jutting my chest forward. “Could you undo this other strap and the ones around my ankles?”
He kicks the knife away, then does so, watching me carefully the whole time.
I pant, breathing with my chest so that my boobs heave a little. “Oh, thank you.” I wipe sweat from my forehead quickly. “Do you mind? I’m so warm.” I slowly unzip the jacket, letting my cleavage peek through an inch at a time.
He raises a white eyebrow, as though he can see right through my act. But his golden skin is flushing red around his cheeks. Is he blushing?
That’s a good sign. As soon as I’m free, I jump forward and kiss him.
I am completely undone. An intense warmness spreads from my stomach through my body. It is similar to kissing a human man, but everything feels more intense. Our lips meld together. He tastes sweet to me; his tongue gently glides into my mouth, and it feels foreign.
“Oooh,” I mumble out weakly underneath his lips.
The warmness rises under my skin and turns into heat. My heart is racing, and my face flushes. I feel—I feel intoxicated like I’m three glasses of wine deep, and I want more, so much more.
He hesitantly touches my shoulders. “Do you want me to stop?”
My mind turns back on with his words as if I’m waking up from a deep sleep. The reality that a strange alien is kissing me sets in all at once.
The panic ruptures out of me. I pull away. He jumps back, trying to give me space—and slips. He goes down hard on the floor.
The alien staggers away from me, crawling. His hands clasp around his nose as orange blood leaks from his nostrils. It drips down onto the floor.
“Fucking! Fuck!” His words switch then into a strange language that sounds like a mix of Italian and Arabic. He teeters back and leans against the wall.
I could totally make an escape now, try to hijack this ship and turn it around to Earth.
Back to your boring life, a little voice inside reminds me.
So, a man I haven’t met, don’t love, and don’t trust, or a crappy, overpopulated planet and an even crappier boyfriend?
Well, there’s a reason I’m out here in the first place. I turn my attention back to the handsome creature on the floor. “Are you okay?” I ask reluctantly.
He shakes his head. He’s already stopped bleeding—looks like he heals fast. “Nothing I can’t take,” he wheezes.
I notice that he’s kicked the knife out of my reach, and he’s already on his feet.
“So, are you going to make a break for it?” he asks calmly.
I sigh. “I was thinking about it. This whole thing is sketchy.”
“Sketchy?”
“Dubious. Questionable. Spurious.”
He pauses for a moment, and I realize he’s relying on the translator. “I see.” His mouth quirks up at the corner. “I wish I could tell you the half of it.”
“Wait, what’s really going on?”
“We’re taking you to the king, just as they told you.” He frowns. “This isn’t against your will, is it?”
I look down. “Everyone else got jewelry and presents and photos. I don’t have anything. I don’t even know who I’m marrying or where I’m going to end up.”
He looks at me sympathetically. “I wish I could help, but a lot rests on this. Peace in the entire system, to be honest.”
I nod glumly. “I’ve been told.”
He backs away, toward the door. “We won’t hurt you. Are you hungry?”
“I don’t have an appetite for anything right now,” I snap back.
“Mor will bring you food later.” He stops in the doorway and opens his mouth. He decides against speaking, and he walks out without another word.
The door shuts, and I am alone once more.
My head hits the mattress. I stare at the alien spaceship’s ceiling; it’s grey and blank.
How long are they going to leave me in here?
If only I had stayed in my room that night. It feels like years ago. If only I had done a lot of things differently.
I take a deep breath. I don’t think either of those aliens is going to let me go. The blue one is a lunkhead, and the gold one�
��my thoughts trail off, and my body reacts to the image of him.
My stomach flutters, and my pussy clenches. It’s clear I have an intense attraction to him, one stronger than anything I have ever felt. When I close my eyes, I see him illuminating the dark.
Why did he let me kiss him? My lips still tingle with the feel of his tongue and the taste of his sweetness.
I shudder. I want him, but how can I trust him if he won’t tell me what’s going on, either? I’m not safe here, especially with that one running around. I hate myself for wanting him more.
But I do want him, and my hands are free, and it’s not like I have anything better to do.
Hours pass as I lay there on the mattress. I pleasure myself, then nap, but mostly, I’m bored out of my mind. I would give anything for access to that online library.
I prop myself onto my elbow when I hear the sound of footsteps coming back down the hall. My stomach jumps. Has the blue one come back to harass me some more?
But it’s the gold one. I don’t even know his name.
He offers me a hand in comfort or greeting. I don’t even try to fight it. My shoulders relax. I roll them back and drop them to my side, pushing myself up to sit on the edge of the bed.
“You okay?” he asks.
Am I okay? I repeat the question in my head several times. It is almost insulting. Is he really that clueless? I search his face and sense a real kindness behind those glowing eyes. He isn’t like the huge, muscly guy or that bitch, Kate.
I suck in a deep breath. “Yeah.”
“I brought you food.” He opens the door and pulls a tray around the corner.
There’s some kind of strange, leathery substance. It’s brown and cut into long, thick strips. He sets the food on the corner of the mattress.
“Paloma fruit. I checked human health specifications, and these should be completely palatable.”
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome.” He leaves after that.
I examine the food strips. They are long and bumpy, almost like jerky, but smooth to the touch.
I press my nose to them and inhale. It smells sweet, almost like fruit leather, but slightly more bitter.