The Krinar Captive

by Anna Zaires

  He might as well have offered Emily poison instead of his heart.

  On a different day, under different circumstances, he might’ve been more rational about it, might’ve made allowances for the fact that they’d only known each other for a couple of weeks. But the ships were arriving tomorrow, and the knowledge that Zaron was about to lose her, that she was going to walk away and leave him to the agonizing emptiness of the last eight years, was like acid dripping on an open wound. All he could think about was that Emily didn’t want him, didn’t feel the yearning that twisted him up inside and made him crave something he’d thought he’d never want again.

  Having her spread out underneath him, with his hand buried between her creamy thighs, only made it worse. He could feel the slickness between her folds, the liquid heat that signaled her desire, and it added to his fury. Emily’s body wanted him, welcomed the pleasure he gave her, but her heart and mind were closed to him. It didn’t make sense, but Zaron felt used, betrayed somehow—a feeling aggravated by the lust pumping violently through his veins.

  If all Emily wanted from him was sex, that’s precisely what she would get.

  Rearing up, Zaron used his grip on Emily’s wrists to pull her up with him, then flipped her onto her stomach and released her wrists. She gasped, her palms splaying on the mattress as if she wanted to push herself up, but he was already tearing off her dress and stuffing a pillow under her hips to prop up her soft, shapely ass. It obsessed him, that ass, just like every part of Emily’s body, yet he hadn’t claimed it yet, just as he hadn’t done the million and one dirty things he’d been aching to do to her. He’d taken it slow, not wanting to overwhelm the human girl, and that had been a mistake.

  She was leaving tomorrow, and Zaron hadn’t even begun to satisfy his hunger for her.

  Leaning over her, he lowered his head until his lips hovered above Emily’s ear. Her soft blond hair tickled his face, and her sweet scent was so intoxicating his cock almost punched a hole through his jeans. “I’m going to fuck you,” he said in a hard, thick voice he barely recognized as his own. “Today, you’re going to give me everything, angel.”

  She made a soft, strangled noise—an agreement? a protest?—but when Zaron reached between her legs, she was scalding hot and wet, ready for him. He pushed two fingers into her, penetrating her silky flesh, and his balls tightened at her gasping moan, at the way her body clenched around his fingers, sucking them in deeper. She was trembling underneath him now, her bare skin hot and damp with sweat, and Zaron knew that she was close to coming, that in another moment she’d be his.

  Mine. The word blazed through his mind, bringing with it that intense dark longing. The physical hunger was only part of it; the rest was tangled up with loss and grief and something so bright and incandescent that it made up for all the pain it would bring. Zaron didn’t want to name that something, not even in his mind, but he felt it like a living thing inside him, humming and pulsing with each hammering beat of his heart.

  No. Stop. This was just fucking, Zaron told himself. He’d clearly restrained himself too much; that’s why he couldn’t imagine letting Emily go, why he felt so empty at the thought of the days to come. He needed to get her out of his system, to do whatever it took to rid himself of this twisted, impossible longing.

  Slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her wet heat, Zaron used his other hand to open the zipper of his jeans. His cock sprang free, so hard and swollen it curved up to his abdomen. Withdrawing his fingers, Zaron wiped them on his shaft to coat it in her wetness. The scent of Emily, warm and sweetly female, was in his nostrils, and it was all he could do to line his throbbing cock against her opening and push in slowly instead of plunging in all the way. In this position, with her legs closed, she was extra tight around him, and he knew he could hurt her if he wasn’t careful. But then she moaned, arching her back to take him in deeper, and he couldn’t control himself. With a low, harsh growl, Zaron slid his hand under her belly to find her clit and, pressing on it, thrust in all the way.

  Emily cried out, her hands fisting in the sheets, and he felt her shudder underneath him, her inner muscles clenching around his cock. “Zaron…” His name was a breathless prayer on her lips. “Oh my God, Zaron…”

  He knew the precise moment it happened for her, felt the rippling spasms of her release, and he gritted his teeth to avoid coming too. Reaching for Emily’s hair, he twisted the silky blond strands around his fist, forcing her head to arch back. Then, holding himself up on one elbow, he pushed the fingers of his other hand—the fingers that had just been inside her—into her mouth. Her lips and tongue felt amazing on his skin, her mouth as slick and warm as the walls of her pussy, and he pushed his fingers deeper, liberally coating them in her saliva before lowering his hand to her ass.

  “Have you ever done this before?” he asked thickly, using his hold on her hair to press her face against the mattress. His saliva-slickened fingers slid between her curvy ass cheeks, finding the tight ring of muscle there, and he felt her tense in shock as he touched the tiny opening. “Has anyone fucked you here?”

  “No.” She gasped as he applied some pressure, forcing the tip of his finger into her. “I… I never—”

  “Good. Then this is mine and mine alone.” The satisfaction Zaron felt at the thought was beyond primitive. His cock swelled and thickened inside her pussy until he was on the verge of bursting, but with a massive effort of will, he held back the cresting pleasure. A murmured command to his house in Krinar, and special lubricant coated his hand, easing his finger’s entry into her tight ass.

  “Relax,” he whispered when Emily whimpered and clenched her cheeks, fighting the intrusion. Her pussy tightened around his cock, massaging him involuntarily, and Zaron groaned as his finger touched his cock through the thin inner wall separating her orifices. “You’ll get used to it in a moment.”

  She was panting into the mattress, her skin sheened with sweat, but he felt the wet heat inside her intensify, coating his cock with more moisture. After a few seconds, the worst of her tension eased, her muscles relaxing slightly, and Zaron leaned down and kissed her ear, crooning, “That’s it, angel. There you go…” His soothing words were accompanied by his second finger pressing against her opening. She tensed again, but he’d managed to get the tip of the second finger in, and the rest slid in easily, aided by the lube.

  “Okay?” he murmured, feeling her shake, and it seemed to take forever before her head moved in a small nod.

  “Good girl.” Zaron kissed her ear again and pushed himself up to a sitting position. Fighting for control, he began to move, thrusting into her simultaneously with his cock and fingers. Emily moaned, the painfully erotic sound nearly making him combust. It took all he had to remain gentle, to keep his movements slow and controlled so he wouldn’t hurt her. As he kept moving, however, some of her stiffness eased, and her moans grew louder, her pussy squeezing him with slick, silky heat.

  Groaning, Zaron gripped her hip with his free hand and started thrusting harder, his fingers inside her moving in rhythm with his cock. He felt like a volcano on the verge of bursting, and he knew he wouldn’t last more than a few seconds—and then he didn’t have to.

  With a thin cry, Emily reached her peak, her inner muscles clamping down on him like a soft, wet vise. He felt the spasms wracking her body, heard her panting gasps, and then he was there, the orgasm sending bolts of ecstasy through his nerve endings. His vision went white as a massive wave of pleasure rolled through him, stunning him with its force, and his seed spurted out, his cock jerking inside her uncontrollably.

  Breathing heavily, Zaron withdrew from Emily and pulled his fingers out of her back opening. Then he got up, gathered her in his arms, and carried her to the shower. She seemed dazed, barely able to stand upright when he placed her on her feet inside the shower stall, so he picked her up again, holding her against his chest as the intelligent technology cleaned them both.

  He’d give Emily a few minutes to recover, and t
hen it was time for round two.

  * * *

  Wrapped in Zaron’s arms, Emily felt wrung out and overwhelmed. Her body throbbed in places she’d never felt before, and her muscles seemed to be made of cotton. The razor-sharp blend of ecstasy and pain she’d just experienced was too much to process in combination with everything else.

  He was letting her go tomorrow.

  Emily should’ve been relieved, but instead, a heavy pressure settled low in her chest, compressing her ribcage and tightening her stomach. Had Zaron been asking her to stay rather than threatening to detain her? Is that why he’d seemed so angry when she’d reminded him of his promise? For a couple of moments, she’d been afraid he might punish her with sex, but he’d been gentle—well, as gentle as a man who double-penetrated her could be. Her back passage still burned from his fingers, but something about that odd, foreign fullness, that feeling of being completely and utterly taken, had made her orgasm infinitely more intense.

  When they were both clean and dry, Zaron carried her back to the bedroom. Emily expected him to put her down and step away, but he placed her on the bed and covered her with his body. Holding himself up on his elbows, he framed her face with his big palms, and before she had a chance to say anything, he kissed her.

  His breath was sweet and faintly minty from the cleaning, but there was nothing sweet about the kiss itself. It was raw and passionate, as hungry as if he hadn’t just emptied himself inside her. Instantly, Emily felt the curl of heat deep in her core and the pulse of arousal in her veins. With Zaron’s muscular body over her, she was cocooned in a bubble of dark sensuality, and nothing existed outside of this kiss: no invasion, no fear, no tomorrow. Everything seemed to fall away, leaving only the man devouring her mouth and the desperate need heating her blood.

  The next couple of hours were a blur of sex, of his mouth and fingers and cock all over her body. He fucked her like it was the last time he would ever have sex, and she came again and again, screaming his name. And when Emily thought she couldn’t take any more, he poured lube all over his cock, bent her in half by draping her legs over his shoulders, and worked himself into her ass, inch by slow inch. It hurt and burned—his cock was much bigger than his fingers—but she was too dazed from all the sex to put up any kind of protest. All she could do was lie there helplessly, trying to breathe through the cramping fullness, but after the worst of the stinging pain subsided, the dark pleasure returned, aided by his skilled fingers petting her swollen folds.

  “Come for me,” he whispered, pinching her clit as he thrust deeper into her ass, and Emily did exactly that, her exhausted body shuddering with ecstasy again and again.

  She wasn’t sure if she slept then, or if she simply zoned out, but when she came to, she was clean, and Zaron was sitting on the edge of the bed holding a tray with berries and roasted nuts.

  “Eat,” he ordered, holding a strawberry to her mouth, and Emily obediently bit into it, still too tired and overwhelmed to do anything else. Her muscles ached in places she hadn’t known she had muscles, and her sex was so sensitive the slightest brush against her clit hurt. Yet when Zaron finished feeding her and reached for her again, she responded, her body conditioned by the mind-bending pleasure his touch had always brought.

  They made love again, leisurely this time, and when Emily lay in Zaron’s arms, shattered and depleted, she felt a dull ache tighten her chest. It was still early in the afternoon, but the next morning loomed like a dark cloud, the mere thought of it filling her with dread. After what she’d learned about Zaron’s people, she was terrified of the invasion to come, but she was even more scared of how it would feel to be separated from Zaron… to know that she would never lie in his embrace again.

  What if she did stay? The thought was an insidious whisper in her mind, dark and tempting. He’d said he wanted her to stay. Had he meant it, and if so, for how long? Surely he would get tired of her eventually—if not now, then when her human body began showing signs of aging. And then there was the blood-drinking issue and the fact that his people were about to take over Earth with mysterious—and possibly sinister—intentions.

  Stockholm syndrome. Emily knew what it was, had even written a paper on it in her college psych class. Zaron wasn’t abusive, but he had been holding her in his house against her will. There was every chance that the captor-captive dynamic had twisted her thinking, amplifying physical attraction until it morphed into an unhealthy addiction. Ever since Emily had woken up in Zaron’s house, she’d had to rely on him for everything: food, water, walks… even pleasure and comfort. Right now, he was a god in her world, a ruler with absolute power. He controlled her completely. How could she make a sane, rational decision in this state of mind? How could she trust herself to give up everything to be with an extraterrestrial whose species might harm her own?

  She couldn’t. It was as simple as that.

  The pain pierced her, as sharp as any knife, but Emily knew she had to be strong. It was the only way. Still, she couldn’t help the stinging in her eyes as she lifted her head from Zaron’s shoulder to meet his glittering gaze.

  “I want you to do it,” she said, her voice shaking from the effort of holding back tears. “That thing you did the second time we had sex. What you promised you wouldn’t do. I want you to fuck me and make me forget.”

  Zaron’s body seemed to have turned to stone, his eyes like black pools in his perfectly sculpted face. “Are you sure?” His voice was low and deep. “Are you sure about that, angel?”

  Emily nodded, afraid yet resolute. She was beyond sore and exhausted, but she couldn’t keep on agonizing like this until morning. And some part of her wanted to experience it again, that dark bliss, that total loss of identity. She wanted Zaron to drink her blood so she could see what it was like and forget her worries at the same time.

  “Do it,” she said, and watched his jaw tighten. He moved, and in a blur, Emily found herself on her back again, with Zaron’s big body caging her against the mattress. His hands slid into her hair as he lowered his head, his lips brushing over her neck, and then she felt it: that sharp, slicing pain.

  It was his bite, she realized, and then she couldn’t think at all, all her senses swamped by the explosive ecstasy bursting through her veins.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Zaron watched as Emily stirred, rolling over to expose her full breasts and and the upper portion of her sleek belly. Her pale skin was flawlessly smooth, her pink nipples soft in her repose. She was beautiful, this human girl of his, and he ached for her with a fierceness that stole his breath. Last night hadn’t helped; if anything, it had made it worse. The taste of her was still on his tongue, sweet and vital, and the knowledge that he’d never have her again was as agonizing as a Chironex fleckeri sting.

  She didn’t want to stay. He had to accept it, no matter how much the dark voice inside him whispered that he could keep her, that no one would ever interfere. He could make her his charl, and eventually, she’d come to terms with it, maybe even appreciate it over time.

  No. Zaron suppressed that voice. He’d promised Emily freedom, and he had to keep that promise. He couldn’t live with himself if she grew to hate him; no matter how much he needed her, he didn’t want her unwilling and resentful.

  Lifting his hand, he gently stroked the satiny line of her jaw. “Wake up, angel. It’s time to go if you’re to make your flight.”

  Emily’s eyes fluttered open, and she blinked, staring up at him. “What?”

  “You have to get dressed and eat, so we can go,” Zaron said. Though he’d intended to keep things light, the words came out terse and harsh. “You don’t want your plane to leave without you.”

  “My plane?” Sitting up, Emily pulled the blanket to her chest and gave him a bewildered look. “What do you mean?”

  “I bought you a plane ticket to replace the one that expired unused,” Zaron said. “Now I need to get you to the airport.”

  “Oh. Thank you. That’s really thoughtful of you.�
� She jumped out of bed, her slender curves making his mouth water as she padded naked across the floor. “I’ll be right back.”

  She disappeared into the bathroom, and a moment later, Zaron heard the shower turn on. The temptation to join her there was strong, but he resisted the urge. If he touched Emily again, there was a high likelihood she wouldn’t fly out today.

  When she emerged from the shower, still naked, he handed her a stack of clothes and watched her eyebrows crawl up. “These are mine,” she said, looking up at him incredulously. “Where did you get my clothes?”

  “I took them along with your other belongings from the hotel where you were staying,” Zaron said, doing his best to keep his gaze above her neck. “I knew you’d need your passport and such.” He’d gone there the day after she’d woken up, when he’d decided to keep her until the ships’ arrival.

  “So you’ve had this all along?” Her eyes narrowed. “Why have you kept it from me?”

  “You didn’t need any of these things here,” he said, ignoring the way her mouth tightened at his answer. “I gave you better, more comfortable clothes and shoes.”

  In reality, Zaron didn’t know why he’d kept Emily’s belongings from her. She hadn’t brought much on this trip—just a backpack filled with essentials—and he hadn’t given the matter much thought. He’d simply retrieved the bag from Emily’s hotel and stashed it away. The clothes he’d fabricated for her were indeed superior to the primitive human ones, and it had given him pleasure to see her walk around in the dresses he’d created.

  Emily’s movements were stiff and jerky as she got dressed, but she didn’t say anything—which was smart of her, Zaron thought. Given the simmering anger in his chest, it wouldn’t take much to push him into an argument.