Alien's Concubine, The

by Kaitlyn O'Connor

  He folded his arms beneath his head as she kissed her way down his belly, sighing blissfully as he allowed her to ‘worship’ the body he’d ‘acquired’. Mildly annoyed and vaguely amused, too, Gaby determined to make him squirm before she was done.

  This was seriously kinky, at least for her, she thought as she took his engorged cock into her hand and sucked the head experimentally, tasting herself on his flesh. His eyes, she saw, slid half-closed. She dismissed her qualms, focusing on him, Anka, relishing the spark of passion she saw in his eyes as she caressed his shaft with her hands and mouth, gently massaged his testicles.

  He lay perfectly still, watching her, his chest rising and falling progressively faster as she teased him. His voice was husky when he spoke at last. “I am of no mind to spill my seed there,” he said chidingly.

  Gaby smiled around the cock in her mouth but lifted her head after a moment. “Then hold it for me,” she murmured.

  He allowed it until he could no longer be still, until his hips began to lift seemingly of their own volition each time she took him deeply into her mouth. Uttering a growl finally, he bolted upright, caught her beneath her arms, and hauled her across his body and onto the bed beside him, rolling on top of her with almost the same movement. Nudging her thighs aside with his hips, he traced her cleft with his cock head until he found the place that ached for his possession. Gasping with pleasure as he breached her, she closed her eyes, caught at him, digging her fingers into his flesh as he thrust and withdrew until he’d set a frantic pace that drew smoldering heat from the ashes of her spent passion of before.

  In her mind, it was Anka that possessed her, his body she felt, his muscles that rippled and grew taut with his movements, his engorged flesh that stroked the inner walls of her sex. They wept for him, pleasured by his touch. Feverish need moved her, drew her body taut as a bow string, quivering on the edge of release.

  She could feel it, just beyond her reach, feel herself gathering to make the leap. The jerk of his cock within her, the hot flood of his seed bathing her womb as he found surcease, sent her rocketing over the edge. She cried out as she came, stunned by the force of her climax.

  She didn’t open her eyes when he gathered himself at last and moved to the bed beside her. She wanted to hold on to the illusion she’d clung to, couldn’t bear to allow the real image of the stranger’s face to intrude on her bliss.

  It was nibbling lips that woke her later. The room was dark. She had no idea what time it was, but her stomach told her she’d expended all the energy she could afford without refilling it. “You’re insatiable,” she complained without heat. “I don’t suppose I could interest you in nibbling on something a little more fulfilling?”

  The suggestion, to her surprise and more than a little chagrin, instantly distracted him. “Pizza,” he announced immediately.

  “Pizza?” she echoed quizzically. “When have you had pizza?”

  “I have not. I like the look of it.”

  “Ok,” she agreed indulgently. “What do you want on it?”

  “Everything. Whatever you like,” he said graciously.

  “Go out? Or order in?” Gaby asked, sitting up to turn on the bedside lamp and turning to glance at him quizzically before a sudden thought fractured her bubble of tolerant amusement. “Wait … where did you … ah … acquire this … man?” she asked as delicately as she could.

  He dismissed her qualms. “Many miles from here.”

  “How many?”

  He frowned, considering. “It was a fort.”

  “Fort Lauderdale?”

  His frown didn’t clear. “Perhaps.”

  “We’ll eat in,” she said decisively. “It could be … uncomfortable running into somebody who knew … knows him.”

  He seemed unconcerned about it.

  He would be, she thought dryly. She wasn’t comfortable, however, and aside from the ‘uncomfortable’ part, the guy might have been reported missing, in which case there was the potential for running afoul of law enforcement. One thing she did not need was to get raked into something that could make headlines.

  Pushing the thoughts from her mind, she ordered the pizza and went in to take a shower while they were waiting for delivery. Anka joined her. She wasn’t particularly happy about that. She would’ve liked a little alone time with the vague sense of hysteria shimmering in her belly.

  It sent an unpleasant jolt through her every time she glanced at Anka and saw a strange face in his place. It wasn’t that the guy wasn’t good looking. He was, and if she hadn’t been so … taken with Anka, then maybe she would’ve been interested. As it was, everything about the situation set her teeth on edge.

  I’ll get used to it, she told herself.

  I can do this … for him. I want to.

  The man will never remember. What’s the loss of a few days, after all? Surely he’s feeling the pleasure the same as Anka?

  It was wrong, of course, very, very wrong, but how could she object?

  She cleared her throat. “This man … He has a life of his own,” she said tentatively.

  Anka shrugged, examining the scent of the shampoo before he poured a handful and began to rub it over his chest. “He is here with me. He is not harmed.”

  Gaby took the bottle out of his hand and gave him the bar of soap. “Aware?”

  “Yes,” he answered absently, smelling the soap, then setting it aside and grabbing the shampoo again.

  Gaby frowned. “That’s for hair, not the body. Pissed off, I guess?”

  He lifted his brows at her questioningly but obliging rubbed the shampoo into his hair instead of on himself. “He was. He enjoyed the fucking, though. Right now he is … resting.”

  Gaby stared at him in horrified fascination for several moments and finally cleared her throat. “He was aware of … that?”

  “He would not have enjoyed it otherwise,” he responded dismissively.

  Gaby smiled with an effort. “Wow, two for one. I hadn’t realized just how kinky that was.”

  He looked displeased by that comment. “It did not seem right to oust his spirit for the use of his body.”

  “Because it isn’t,” Gaby said firmly, trying to ignore the uncomfortable fluttering of her heart at the offhand comment.

  “But I do not like sharing.”

  Gaby studied his eyes searchingly. “You’re just … ‘borrowing’, right? Like … for the night?”

  “The fucking was good, but I did not procreate this night. It is not your time,” he said pointedly. “Even I can do nothing about such things.”

  Gaby felt vaguely nauseated. She’d hoped he would be satisfied with what she could give him. Stupid! This was why she’d avoided any kind of relationship. She’d suspected, sooner or later, it would boil down to her ‘true’ function as a woman and she would be found lacking.

  He pushed her chin up with one forefinger. “You do not trust easily, Moonflower. I gave you back what was taken from you.”

  She looked at him helplessly. She didn’t want to fight with him. She’d missed him. She just wanted to enjoy being with him, whatever the circumstances … just for a little while. Was it too much to ask when she’d never had anything of her own? It was selfish. She knew it was, and it was going to plague her conscience, but, just for once, she wanted to be selfish even if she had to pay for it later.

  Despite those thoughts, it trembled on the tip of her tongue to try to reason with him, to try to make him understand that what he was doing was wrong, even for a little while. The man had a life, maybe a family, friends, certainly a job. He could lose everything while Anka used him as if he was no more than a … puppet.

  “You were revolted when I brought the one whose life force had left him,” he said, his voice tight with temper he was struggling to control.

  But it wasn’t just that. Gaby sensed frustration, disappointment … and confusion in him, as well.

  She shook her head. Before she could even try to explain her feelings on the subject,
though, or complain about him eavesdropping in her mind again, she heard the doorbell.

  It was almost a relief. “That’ll be the pizza,” she said, rinsing quickly and grabbing her robe on the way out of the bathroom.

  The pizza restored Anka’s good humor … somewhat. Obviously, he thoroughly enjoyed the things sensory perception allowed him to feel, and taste was high on his list of things to explore.

  Diet soda didn’t meet his standards. His expression once he’d taken a long draught was almost comical.

  “You get used to it,” Gaby said, amused.

  “Why would one wish to, that is the question?”

  She glanced down at her pizza, feeling her belly knot with anxiety, choking off her appetite when she’d hardly eaten more than a few bites. “Eating too many good tasting, high calorie things, can make you unhealthy and unattractive. I cut calories where I can so I can have some of the things I really like. This doesn’t have real sugar in it, but it still tastes a lot like the regular cola does.”

  He lifted the can and studied it thoughtfully and she knew suddenly, without any abilities for mind reading at all, that he’d grasped the correlation.

  “It just takes a little time to get used to,” she added after a moment.

  He nodded. He didn’t seem as angry as before, but she could see he was still wrestling with something that bothered him.

  * * * *

  Gaby didn’t know whether to be more amused or more annoyed that Anka seemed to take it as a matter of course that he was completely welcome to move in with her. He didn’t ask. He simply made himself at home.

  It was disconcerting to come home when she’d lived alone her entire adult life to discover a man lounging on her couch, the TV scepter in his hand—watching soaps.

  He found the high drama of those fascinating for some reason that escaped her, but, to her surprise, he didn’t seem to have had any difficulty grasping right away that it was play acting. He didn’t have any trouble determining which programs were ‘real’ and which were plays, which actually didn’t surprise her until it occurred to her that he’d never seen anything like it at all.

  It wasn’t just the TV itself that was technology he couldn’t have been familiar with. Acting and storytelling went back a very, very long time in human history, but it seemed doubtful his culture would have done such things. Rituals would’ve been the central focus of both entertainment and religion and probably the only way the people had escaped from the day to day drudgery of survival.

  She hadn’t thought that she thought of him as having a primitive mind—she knew he was intelligent even if he was ignorant of the hundreds of years of knowledge that had been accumulated since his time--but obviously she’d expected just that or she wouldn’t have been surprised that he could soak up knowledge so easily.

  He amazed her with how quickly he absorbed the knowledge available to him, which was a lot more than even she’d realized.

  The third day after he’d shown up at her door in his newest persona, she came home to discover that, instead of lounging on the couch, he was in her kitchen. The sounds and smells of cooking food accompanied by a disembodied voice drew her. When she’d peered around the kitchen door, she discovered a disaster area. A small, portable TV sat on the counter. Anka was standing near the stove with a pan in one hand, watching the TV chef intently.

  The counters were littered with ingredients and all sorts of prepared dishes, many of them burned, but some giving off fairly appetizing smells.

  Anka, Gaby realized with a sinking heart, had discovered the cooking channel.

  They were in serious trouble if he decided to watch the home improvement channel! Her landlord would shit a squealing worm a mile long if Anka took it into his head to ‘improve’!

  Deciding she wasn’t currently in the mood to deal with the disaster area or the fact that Anka had, apparently, emptied both her refrigerator and her cabinets in his quest to become a cooking aficionado, Gaby whirled away without a word and headed for her bathroom.

  She wasn’t ordinarily impatient of others. She didn’t know why she felt ‘invaded’.

  She supposed it was because she just wasn’t used to sharing her space with anyone. More precisely, she’d gotten unused to it. She hadn’t had her own space when she’d been growing up. Not only had she had to share it with a succession of strangers as the other kids made the rounds from group home to foster home and back again, but she’d never been able to feel like she belonged there or that the place was ‘hers’. Because even though she couldn’t remember ever living anywhere else, it was still an institution—not a real home, something she was always keenly aware of.

  Anka was right, she thought wryly as she adjusted the shower and finally stepped inside. She was hard to please.

  And, truthfully, she couldn’t figure out what her problem was. She enjoyed Anka’s company. His presence, even when he was watching TV while she did something else, or when he slept beside her at night, knowing he was close even when he wasn’t actually inside the apartment with her, was comforting.

  The sex between them was mind blowing!

  And she could not complain that he actually crowded her. He seemed to know when she didn’t want to talk and when she wanted to be alone to read or work.

  It was fear, she finally realized. She was afraid she would get used to it, and then he would be gone and she’d have to get used to being alone again.

  It was typical of her, Gaby thought disgustedly. She had never been able to enjoy anything without worrying about the consequences or worrying about when it was gone or over. She wondered if everyone else was as prone to leavening their life with fears of the future, or if it was just her. She couldn’t help being that way, and at the same time it was something about herself that she hated. She felt like she’d missed out on so much in life because she wasn’t a ‘seize the day’ sort of person.

  Or maybe she was just greedy? Refusing to take a nibble here, a bite there, just because she couldn’t have the whole pie?

  Whatever it was, this thing with Anka—whatever that was—was working against her nature big time. She was so on edge, expecting the bubble to burst, she couldn’t even properly enjoy the bubble!

  Dragging in a deep, cleansing breath, she resolved to try. If she had to meditate, or practice a little self-hypnosis, or just give herself pep talks, she wanted to make the most of her time with Anka.

  She’d just soaped her hair when Anka joined her in the shower. She felt his hand slide over her buttocks as she stepped into the spray to rinse the soap from her face.

  Chapter Nine

  “Have you mastered cooking yet?” Gaby asked teasingly as she turned to look at him, tipping her head back beneath the spray to rinse the soap from it.

  His gaze was on the sudsy bubbles gliding over her breasts. “I believe this is a skill that takes much practice,” he murmured absently, lifting his hands to cup her breasts and then rubbing his thumbs over her nipples until they were tight and hard.

  Warmth stirred in her belly as he moved closer, bending to match his lips to hers. Closing her eyes, she rose up on her toes to meet him readily, opening her mouth to him in welcome. The touch of his mouth as his lips met hers, the thrust of his tongue, was possessive and yet persuasive rather than hungrily demanding as he usually was.

  A little surprised, Gaby felt the warmth blossom into heat nevertheless as they moved together and he deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth in a thorough, leisurely manner that set her heart to thrumming just a little faster. Sighing into his mouth with pleasure, she settled her hands at his waist as he reached around her to cup her buttocks and lift her up and toward him, penning his erection between them. She curled her hips against him rhythmically, rubbing her breasts against his chest very deliberately and feeling her desire climb as her sensitive nipples brushed back and forth across his male breasts.

  When he broke the kiss, she lifted her eyelids with an effort to look up at him. His gaze was as slumberous w
ith desire as hers, filled with expectancy. She settled flat on her feet and began to explore her way downward from his neck and across his chest with her lips until, at last, she settled on her knees and took his cock into her hands, teasing the head with her lips and tongue. He made a sound of pleasure deep in his chest, spearing his fingers into her hair and cupping the base of her skull as she stroked and sucked him, traced the sensitive ridge around the head of his cock with her tongue.

  The impulse came over her as she finessed his engorged flesh with her mouth to bring him off with the play of her mouth and tongue. The thought aroused her more and she began to stroke his cock more feverishly with her mouth and hands, sucking hard each time she pushed him deeply into her mouth and holding him tightly as she allowed his flesh to slip out again. Cupping his testicles gently in one hand, she caressed them, as well, alternating between stroking his cock and his testes and finally moving downward to suck his balls into her mouth. He shuddered, his hands kneading her scalp. His breathing became harsh, labored, as his own desires escalated.

  She was disappointed when he broke away from her abruptly, pulling her to her feet, but the discontent was brief. As he pulled her upward, he pressed her back against the shower wall and kissed her with fierce hunger, running his hands over her body with feverish need.

  She felt weak and heavy with her own needs. She could barely stand as he drew away at last, shut the shower off and stepped out, pulling her behind him. Handing her a towel, he took one for himself, dried cursorily and then swept her off her feet. They were both damp still when they tumbled onto the bed. Gaby reached for him as he settled half atop her, stroking her hands over his muscular body encouragingly as he worshipped her body with his hands and mouth and tongue, with exquisite care to leave no sensitive patch of flesh wanting for attention.

  “Now, please,” she gasped when he’d teased her until she felt as if she would orgasm without him ever having entered her at all. “I want you inside of me.”