Titan Rising 1 (Syalantian 1)

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Titan Rising 1 (Syalantian 1) Page 4

by Bobbi Ross


  Em-er-ry. He rolled her name around his mouth like a fine Cellaxian wine. After all this time, after all the searching... She had found him. He tore the pillow from behind his head and savagely bit into it. She would be waiting for him, so why couldn't he get to sleep?

  Maybe it was too hot? He let the blankets pool on the floor next to the couch he had sprawled out on. After a few moments exposed to the night air, he shivered.

  No, maybe it was too cold? Rohn pulled the blankets back up, shaking them out over his long form. He closed his eyes and waited. That didn't seem to help either.

  He thought he heard one of his stomachs make a noise. Maybe he was hungry? Thirsty? By the time he decided he was neither, the room had faded from its perpetual twilight into a deep inky blackness filled with stars both above and below him.

  He panicked for a moment as he found himself standing chest deep in a body of dark water. His unease faded after he realized it was the lake on Titan. He spied the splendid crystal gazebo in the distance. It reflected the multitude of stars on the shore, and the naked figure of a fully curved woman bathing in the dark water near the shoreline. He knew as soon as he laid eyes on the sensual contours of her delicate body. His Asanti had come for him.

  Keeping his head above water for fear of losing her again, he drank in her exquisite beauty while he swam ever closer towards her. Her body appeared pale against the night, and he felt himself growing harder with anticipation the nearer he drew.

  Certainly he had seen Terran women before, but not nearly this delectable or perfectly formed. Before he ever reached her, he could feel the softness of her neck as he slid his lips along it. Without warning she rose from the water and whirled to face him, giving him full sight of her healthy breasts and ample curves. His fingers ached to knead and caress them until his tongue was able to taste her taut nipples.

  A low growl emanated from deep in his core when her eyes shot up to meet his. The immense gravity of their pull to each other was similar in effect to the event horizon of a black hole. All-consuming and it seemed to last forever.

  When finally she was within his reach, she pulled back for a second then launched herself at him. She wrapped her arms firmly around his neck. Her bare, wet, succulent breasts pushed desperately against his chest. His cock throbbed and grew in reply.

  Immense delights suffused throughout his core when her soft sweet lips sought out his. He accepted the gift. What started with slow sweet pulls turned into a hungry attempt to devour each other. He wanted this woman like no other before. His body demanded hers.

  He slipped his arms around her waist, wanting to crush her into him and at the same time afraid she may once again slip away. She gasped and he felt smooth strong legs slide around his waist. He folded his arms around her hips and gripped her apple-shaped ass. His body shuddered from desire and pleasure.

  The buoyancy of the water freed their bodies from the shackles of gravity. Her heated entrance pressed up against him. He felt dizzy with need as the blood rushed to fuel his burning arousal. She ground her hips up and down along his cock, and he was forced to bite down on his lip to keep from exploding right then and there.

  What had he done right in his life to deserve such a wondrous creature? And how was it she knew just what he needed?

  At that point she threw herself against his chest, her wet breasts sliding across his skin driving him into an even greater frenzy. Fingers entangled themselves in his hair pulling his head back to the point he winced, until she gently began to lick and nip at his exposed neck.

  A deep growl reverberated through his chest and he felt her trembling in his arms. She cupped his jaw and leaning closer she breathed in his ear, "I need you inside me my dream alien," she purred.

  "My Asanti," he groaned as the desire to claim this woman as his own overwhelmed his mind and his body.

  He pulled back for a second, grabbing his pulsating cock and repositioning it for entrance. She breathed hard. Her spine went rigid as he slid the tip of his engorged length into her—.

  Chapter 8

  My eyes shot open just as the tip of Saturn crested the horizon. I could still taste him on my lips. Feel the warmth of his naked body. The smooth tip of his... Dammit! It's no use. He was married, and to perhaps one of the kindest souls I'd ever met. My joy crashed and burned before ever being launched, like all my other hopes and dreams. Running off into the sunset with my green haired mystery man was nothing more than an illusion.

  I forcefully squelched the tantalizing afterglow that had followed me into the waking world. I couldn't believe I even thought about him again, let alone... like that. He was married for crying out loud. Married! There was no way I was gonna give up my life to be somebody's royal concubine. How many women did he even have? One on every planet perhaps? Did he keep them all in his palace somewhere? Like maybe a big wing of kept women, just waiting to roll over and please his royal greenness. Bastard.

  Sitting up, the room spun like an out of control satellite crashing back to earth. Every fiber of my being was exhausted, like I had just run a marathon. My skin hadn't gotten the memo yet, betraying me as it still tingled at the memory of our dream escapades.

  Wait, what about the soon-to-be queen? She was so nice, but if she found out... Putting a hand to my throat I swallowed hard, thinking about how much I enjoyed having my head attached.

  The whole situation was hurting my head, so I gave up and sank back onto my bed. I had to figure out a way to avoid them. To avoid him for the rest of his stay. Racking my brain, I just couldn't see it. No one else on Titan spoke Syalantian.

  The shrill beeping of my evil alarm clock reminded me that it didn't matter what I wanted. I still had to get up for work.

  Chapter 9

  The happy honeymooning royal couple had decided that today they would have their breakfast delivered to their room. Wonderful. The thought of him and a bed together in the same place had me squeezing my legs together. This man was gonna be the death of me, if his wife didn’t kill me first. Either way, I was pretty sure I'd wind up dead by the end of the day.

  Hmph, my grandmother didn't raise a fool. When the couple sent a message to the front desk requesting private food service this morning, I didn't let Bev take any details. Instead, I corralled myself a chef and found one of the wait staff to accompany me.

  Tall, green, handsome and very much married opened the door in his semi transparent white silk pajamas, emphasizing his delectable muscular body and highlighting the stark contrast of his bronzed skin. My breath caught in my throat as my eyes traced the edges of his pecs and counted his tightly packed abs – Yum. Our eyes locked for a second, but he was forced to swallow whatever comment he was about to make when he saw my crew in tow.

  "Good morning, Your Highnesses," I said cheerfully as the three of us shuffled in. "Today we want to cook for you a traditional Earth breakfast feast, from scratch. This is chef Artutu. He will be preparing you the finest the Earth has to offer. And since neither of you has ever actually been there, we wanted to make sure you would be treated to the full effect, so Carlo will be helping me serve you," I said matter of factly, ignoring the royal couple’s confused looks.

  He tried to tractor beam me into those large liquid emerald eyes of his. "What can we do to help?" the prince asked in passable English, as we began setting up the table.

  Carlo waved the man off. "No need Sir, I will take care of everything, you two just sit back and relax.”

  Remind me to give Carlo a big tip.

  Tall, green and won't-take-no for an answer, tried a second time to pin me with that riveting, panty-melting gaze of his, while I was helping Chef Artutu prepare his award-winning banana nut pancakes. I evaded triumphantly and continued with my work.

  Elbows deep in flour and batter I was totally oblivious when the royal rascal sauntered up behind me. My knees shook when his voice caressed my neck, "Is there anything I can do to help, Emery?" He asked softly.

  In a nervous fit, I stopped pouring the
milk into the flour and then absently flipped on the mixer. A choking white cloud pushed him back, and provided me cover from the colorful metaphors being laid down by Chef Artutu. With all the eloquence of a grand magician I had pulled off another daring escape. His flour deluged head looked like a snow top collapsing in an avalanche caused by his racking coughs. Fear of chocking or permanent blindness would keep him away now, for sure.

  Things seemed to run smoothly after that, at least for me. He quietly ate breakfast with his wife on the veranda, overlooking the lake framed by the pink and orange streaks of the sunrise. Did I mention he was eating breakfast with his wife? What was wrong with this man? She was gorgeous, far prettier than I would ever be. And hello, she was his wife.

  I can't believe I ever dreamed about this jerk. I must've seen his picture on the web or in a magazine somewhere. I only wish there had been a warning about what a creep he was, then maybe I could've gotten some proper sleep.

  That's when everything went sideways. They seemed to be arguing out on the terrace. Her Royal Highness gave an exaggerated eye roll then stood and moved to his side of the table. She whispered something I couldn't make out into his ear. She kissed him on one cheek, slapped him playfully on the other and then strode purposely into the house.

  "I'm getting changed," she revealed, waving as she blew past me. "I want to go for a walk this morning along the shore and enjoy this glorious sunrise." With that, she ducked into the bedroom for a moment, and then faster than my boss could jump to the wrong conclusion, the princess exited the suite. Panic washed through me before I took control. Everything was going to be fine. I still had two other people in the room with me.

  "I’m leaving," Chef Artutu huffed. All of his instruments packed and ready to go.

  I tried to stop him, but he threw up a curt hand. "When next you have need of a chef, be sure you never call me!" The tiny man snorted for emphasis, which caused the flour still trapped in his mustache to swell around his face like a nimbus cloud. He stomped his feet like an angry toddler and slammed the door behind him. Nuts. That only left the waiter, the prince and me in the room. Shoot, Carlo almost had everything packed up too. I cast a cursory glance at the prince, still lounging at his table, checking his breath. I don't think so, buddy, not today. I searched for something, anything that would keep Carlo from leaving.

  And there it was.

  Coffee.

  I knew for a fact they didn't have coffee on the Syalantian home world yet. Earth was holding a tight rein on its supply until we could be sure that we had a planetary patent on the liquid gold. Even though we were terraformed by an alien company, we were still within the Sol system, so we had a fresh and free-flowing legal supply of coffee.

  His highness began to rise. "Wait!" I shouted, stopping him in mid-stand. I flashed my brightest smile and he gave me a long, languid stare. My heart skipped a beat or two. I shook it off. "You have to try some of the coffee we brewed especially for you. It's a tradition to drink a cup after a meal, particularly at breakfast." I was really reaching now but it's all I could think of to keep Carlo in the room with me.

  Waving an annoyed Carlo over, I worked diligently not to stare into those luscious emerald eyes of Prince Sex-Me-Up and keep a rein on my racing heart. Turning the cup over for Carlo to pour, anxiety-fueled prevarications salsaed out of my mouth. "These are very special beans from Columbia, hand roasted to a golden brown and then ground here on the premises this morning." I fretted about, trying not to focus on the fact that our coffee was a powder that came from an industrial size can. They still weren't letting the good stuff off Earth.

  He raised the steaming cup to his beautifully sculpted lips and paused to take in the aroma. I knew it from experience to be bitter and metallic. He wrinkled his nose, but said nothing.

  "Here, wait," I exclaimed, thrusting a spoonful of sugar at the cup he precariously balanced.

  “Minteth!” the prince yelped when the hot steaming cup of reconstituted Colombian mud water spilled into his lap. Onto his nearly see-through pajamas. That were now completely see-through pajamas. Meow! My lady bits tingled with excitement. The royal scepter was certainly a sight to behold, and I have to admit, at that point I was extremely tempted to hold it.

  "Quick," I yelled to myself as much as to him. Pulling him out of the seat, I ushered him toward the bathroom. "If you don't rinse the area under cold water for at least 30 minutes, it will do more than just burn, it will scar!" I warned.

  His eyes went wide, and he bounded away from me like an Olympic sprinter into the master bath. Whew! He let out another yelp just as I heard the water turn on. Ouch!

  Carlo had a bewildered look on his face.

  "Don't ask," I snapped and to his credit, he didn't.

  Ten minutes later we were packed up and at the front door."I will send the hotel's doctor right away, Your Highness!" I hollered.

  The prince's audible whimpering from the bathroom under what I guessed could only be an ice cold shower was his only reply.

  Chapter 10

  The whole rest of the morning my heart ached at the pain I caused this wonderfully muscled, emerald eyed, spine tingling specimen of a man, and his -ahem- generous endowment. At the same time, what freaking planet did this jerk-off come from? It would serve that pompous, gallivanting pig right if he was scarred.

  I was hoping not to hear from the royal couple for the rest of their trip, but that dream had been short-lived. Mid-afternoon I was paged to the pool. I mentally braced myself for the consequences of my sloppiness earlier that morning. I had already taken an earful from the little orange gremlin.

  Oh well, there were certainly worse places to be called to under Titan's dome. To say that the hotel's pool was magnificent would be akin to saying that the sun was shiny.

  Starting ten meters from the rear of the hotel, glistening white marble walkways crisscrossed through the fuchsia Flotorian grass and branched out to more than 100 private cabanas. The large petrified Larskin wood structures were cloaked with the finest raw Aqualaian linens and bedecked artfully with multicolored feathers of the giant Antarian Tuchy bird. The pool itself was at least 100m wide, and stopped at a sandy beach on the far side, which rimmed the lake. The glittering, crystal blue water of the pool was under lit, due to the perpetual dawn or twilight that ruled the moon.

  Today, the only cabana I was interested in was set way out into the shimmering pool some twenty meters from the edge. A wet walkway, submerged under 2 cm of water, was the only path to the two-person honeymoon cabana. I had neither seen nor heard from the prince or princess since the coffee incident. The hotel's doctor assured me the prince hadn't needed any ministrations beyond the cold water. As bad as I felt about dumping hot coffee into his lap, I felt even worse the way my heart fluttered and my lower half heated up every time I saw him.

  Compound my crush on a married man with the fact that I really did like his wife, and I knew my miserable lot in life was well-deserved. I'd be cleaning toilets forever.

  Slipping off my monstrous gray work shoes that I swear were cobbled for someone with only four toes, I splished and splashed my way out into the pool on the wet walkway with absolute determination as my only armor. He would not get to me today. I refused to allow it.

  Upon reaching the silk-covered cabana I was pleasantly surprised to see only the princess. She waved me to her side the second she saw me, as her face curved into the warmest of smiles. Aagh! Shame’s vice grip clasped painfully at my soul.

  "Sit, sit," she commanded with a flutter of excitement. "My gosh, this is magnificent. I can't believe you have access to this all the time."

  I managed a half smile. She shook her head and leaned in, as if we were about to trade conspiracies. Well, I was supposed to keep the guests entertained, so I shared, "Actually, we're not allowed to use the pool, unless we're giving swimming or sailing lessons. And if somebody's drowning of course."

  "That's a crime," she said in earnest. "Well, I have no interest in sailing and I swim
rather well. However, during my vacation I plan on drowning five or six times a day." She was so serious when she spoke and I was so nervous, that I didn't catch on until she winked at me.

  "Anula, Your Majesty, I’m so sorry,” I blurted out. She raised a questioning brow. “Please accept my sincerest apologies for my clumsiness this morning. I'm truly sorry for spilling coffee on your husband's lap," I pleaded, dropping my gaze.

  She didn’t say a word. The queen, well, queen-to-be mind you, stood up from her lounge chair and spread out a white linen towel that she must’ve brought from her honeymoon suite onto the second chair. Pool towels were normally fuchsia. She then grabbed a Galorian down feather pillow from a small cabinet under the wet bar in the corner, fluffed it and slipped it under the towel. Satisfied with her work, she cast her deep ocean blue eyes my way and smiled her big, beautiful, dimple-filled smile that had probably launched 1000 ships and said in the least royal of any command ever given by a monarch anywhere "Sit with me, Emery."

  For the next two hours we drank, laughed and gossiped about our home worlds. She even served me drinks. Aside from Bev, I haven't shared or laughed this much with anyone since my grandmother died.

  Everything was lighthearted and fun until we broached the topic of human customs related to dating. Her hand shot up abruptly, halting our conversation. Her eyes darkened as she leaned toward me, her voice dropping to a low, stealthy tone.

  "There's delicious rumors that surround Terran celebrations of anniversaries and this day of Valentine." She licked her lips. "Tell me about these... chocolates."

  "I can do better," I responded jovially, holding up a finger. "I'll be right back."

  She was in luck, chocolate more so than coffee, was still in dispute when it came to off-world trade. Fortunately, I had a delivery gal who came from earth twice a month, and she always smuggled me the good stuff. I ran back to my room, scooped up my box of caramel creams and high-tailed it back to the pool.

 

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