by Colt, Shyla
“I hadn’t realized,” he said.
“What going on?” Mars asked.
“I can tell you what happened,” Bastian said. They lifted their heads at the sound of his voice as he weaved through people to stand beside them. Confusion was etched on Mars’s face as he looked from Phelan to Bastian. Whatever Mars missed must’ve been huge because Phelan appeared to be trying to skewer Bastian with his eyes.
“Where’s your friend?” Phelan asked.
“She went to powder her nose. Zasha got to you, didn’t she?” Bastian said.
“Why would Zasha do that?” Mars asked.
“You want to tell him?” Bastian asked.
“I don’t think I have much choice,” Phelan said. “Zasha is my mate.”
“What!” Mars said. “How long have you known this?”
“Years.”
“You’ve waited years to claim her! Why would you do that?”
“When we first met she was still so young, barely twenty-two, and I wanted her to have time to become the woman she was meant to be without my influence. I’ve kept my distance to delay the inevitable, but tonight I find myself unable to continue with the charade.”
The admission was wrung from between his pursed lips. His composure on a downward spiral as his body began to quake. His blood grew heated in his veins, and the predatory instincts he kept taped down boiled over.
“I have to go to her.”
His shiny black boots beat a rhythm across the marbled floor as he left to stake his claim.
Among the sea of witches, princesses, and naughty nurses, her six-foot frame incased in a red dress was easy to spot.
Graceful hand gestures followed her words. How he longed to know the feel of those elegant tools on his body. He growled in his throat when an alien male dressed as a vampire sidled over and gave a valiant effort to draw her into conversation. The urge to choke the man for his attempt to take what Phelan considered to be his prompted him to take immediate action. Each step forward filled with purpose. Almost as if she sensed his intent, she looked up and met his gaze. The dilation of her pupils hit him like an asteroid. The beast inside him raged. “Mark her so all will know who she belongs to.”
“I trust that everyone is enjoying themselves,” he said.
He pasted a polite smile onto his lips as he greeted those gathered around her in a circle. Their positive affirmations and comments registered, and he issued the proper responses but his eyes never left Zasha’s.
“I hate to interrupt your conversation but Zasha and I actually have some business to attend to. So I’ll ask that you’ll excuse us.”
His arm on her elbow was meant to remove the chance for an escape. His clever plan backfired when desire erupted through his body like hot lava. The feel of her petal soft skin beneath his, seared him. The dream he’d longed to know was eclipsed by the reality.
His steps accelerated as he led her from the ballroom floor.
“Where are we headed?” she asked.
Her breathy alto entranced him, and it was all he could do not to scoop her into his arms and head for his bedroom at a dead run. He should stop. Explain to Zasha what it meant to lay with him.
But the fire in his blood wouldn’t allow for polite conversation. It was by sheer force of will he functioned at all.
“Somewhere a little more private,” he said.
The scent of her arousal floated up to his sensitive nose. The salty sweet mixture he knew must coat her inner thighs called to him. But it was the “O” shape her mouth formed that broke him.
The moment they rounded the corner of a hallway he pressed her supple form against the wall. His hand wound in her wealth of inky black hair. A sharp pull of her ponytail arched her neck. The world around them went up in flames as he bent to kiss her mouth, devouring her lips like a starving man at a buffet.
His tongue learned every nuance of her mouth. The sweet tang of the fruit punch she drank mixed with a darker taste that was simply her. He twisted the warm weight of her hair tighter. The added tension on her scalp pulled a whimper from her throat that made his cock jump.
“Phelan.”
He supported her as her shaky legs gave and she slumped against him.
He released her hair, propping her against the wall before he hit his knees.
“Tell me what you want, Zasha?” he asked.
His hands massaged up the taught muscles of her legs. His knuckles brushed against her inner thighs. He wanted to see the sexy vixen who had taunted him. It was her veiled admission of attraction that had driven him into action.
“I want you to taste me.”
“Hold your skirt up.”
She obeyed his command in a seamless manner that made his dick harden farther. Her thighs were slick with her juices, and his impatient fingers were soaked before they moved her panties aside. Two fingers slid into her hot heat, and stirred a slow circle inside her tight walls before he retreated.
“You’re so wet,” he said.
The moan of protest she issued was silenced when he leaned back on his heels to meet her gaze.
He slipped his cum-laden fingers into his mouth and released an appreciative hum. His mouth feasted on her nectar until his fingers were clean. The pop of his mouth’s reluctant release of his digits was audible in the stillness of the darkened hallway.
“I had my taste, and I could eat you for days, but first I want to hear you say it.”
“Eat my pussy, Phelan!”
Her command was one he was all too happy to comply with. His hands were swift as he slid one of her legs over his shoulder and snapped the elastic of her thong.
“You won’t need this anymore dear one,” he said. The slits of her green eyes the only part visible beneath her veiled lids.
“I’ve wanted to taste you like this for so long.” His hoarse confession made her moan.
“Me, too.”
The admission released a low rumble in his chest.
“This is my pussy now, Zasha.”
His fingers traced along her wet slit, and spread her cream over her swollen clitoris.
“You’re so wet for me, Zasha.”
He marveled as she continued to flow like a river over the fingers he used to separate her lips. The pretty pink flesh he revealed made him growl as he dove forward. His tongue rolled along the engorged bundle of nerves as her sweet taste filled his mouth. He was an addict, and she was the drug as each sip of her flavor and lick of his tongue took him higher.
“Yes, Phelan!”
The sound of his name on her lips earned her two thick fingers. She gripped him so hard he swore. If she felt this good around his fingers, he could just imagine the fit around his cock. He thrust inside her with a sure steady rhythm. The feel of her nails in his scalp a pain he liked.
When he leaned in to add his eager mouth to the mix she swore. The harsh words made him grin against her mound. “I want you to come on my face, Zasha.”
The vibration of his voice against her core made her buck, and the suction of her clit into his mouth made her cry his name again. He curled his tongue inside her as far as he could go and found a spot that made her swear like a sailor. Her leg tightened around his shoulder as she rode the stiff tongue he’d begun to delve into her channel. A tiny quiver yielded to a tidal wave as she clamped down on his tongue. The gush of the liquid he craved flooded his mouth, and he captured every drop.
****
Her rubbery legs refused to support her, and she sagged against the wall as he realigned her skirt and stood.
“We should continue this in my room,” he said.
A nod was all she could manage after the mind numbing orgasm he had provided.
She never thought in a million years she would be here. The reality was so much better than the watered down fantasies. She could not stop the cry of delight that left her lips when he scooped her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. The steps he took more fleet and sure than a human’s as the scenery flew by in
a blur. What seemed like seconds later, they entered his room with the door shut firmly behind them. His black eyes were full of admiration and lust as he set her onto the floor in front of his bed.
His nimble fingers traced a path over her features as she did the same. Eager to learn the curves of the face she’d dreamed of for so long. She thought the sight of her brown flesh against his tan was a beautiful contrast.
“I’m not like human males, Zasha,” he said.
His somber tone stilled her exploration of his body.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Shar men mate for life. The first moment I saw you, I wanted to rip your clothes off and take you across my desk,” Phelan said.
Her breath hitched in her throat at the admission. Her thigh pressed together in a failed attempt to contain the creaminess that flowed onto her inner thighs. If what he said was true, the pull she felt to him had an explanation.
“W-why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because you were too young for all the things I will demand of you,” he said. “The bond between us is unbreakable, and as such, I felt you deserved to enjoy your youth.”
The thoughtfulness he’d shown melted her on the inside. Lust stirred and shaken with a deeper emotion filled her as his past actions were explained.
“What kind of things do you demand?”
“I demand all, Zasha, but I promise to give the same in return.”
“All?” she asked.
“Yes, Zasha. We have a lot of lost time to make up for,” he said.
He rushed forward too fast for her human eyes to track, and the rate he stripped their clothes made her dizzy.
God, he was so beautiful. His tan chest must have been carved by sculptures hands and his taut abs jumped as she raked her nails down them. Her eyes lowered to his engorged cock, and she felt her stomach flutter. He was about eight inches long and thick, with a swollen blue head that yielded a drop of blue pre-cum. That light blue matched the light cerulean glow that dusted the rest of his body. She knew the Shar achieved this glow when they experienced strong emotions. That she could provoke such a response made her lean in to lick the drops away. It was one of the first things they’d explained when they arrived. His sugary tang lingered like candy on her tongue.
“You’re sweet,” she whispered.
Her hand wrapped around the base as she sucked him into the heat of her mouth and hallowed her cheeks.
“Shit, Zasha!”
Careful to relax the muscles in her throat, she took him deep. Her eyes rapt on his face as she studied him beneath her lashes. With his lips parted and his face flushed with passion, he was beautiful. This was the side of Phelan she wanted to see for so long. He snapped the band of her ponytail holder in two and buried his fingers in the hair that escaped. When more of his sweet nectar exploded on her tongue, she moved her greedy mouth faster.
“No,” he said.
His fist tightened in her hair as he removed her from his firm dick.
“When I come for the first time, I want it to be inside you.”
He helped her to her feet and moved them over to stand beside the bed. A gentle push toppled her to the mattress, and she spread her legs wide to accommodate his large frame. Their sweat mingled as he pinned her down with the lower half of his body. His breath was a tickle on her ear before he moved down to bite the skin of her neck. Her nerves were on fire as the prick of his sharp teeth made her shriek. She felt her delicate skin split to yield the crimson liquid that gave her life.
His whisper of, “You are in me now, Zasha.” The most erotic thing she’d ever heard.
Zasha looked up to view Phelan’s lips, swollen from kisses and stained red. The sight a combination that horrified as it evoked foreign urges. Her nails clawed and ripped at his back leaving blue trails of blood in its wake. Frantic, she ground against his stiffness. She needed relief from the cruel torture of his cock against her entrance.
“I want to be gentle, Zasha. I am trying so hard for your sake. But if you don’t stop—”
“Be rough,” she said.
“You chose this,” he said.
Animalistic snarls came from his throat as he lined himself and drove deep. The scream that left her mouth as her barrier tore was high shrill.
“I can’t stop, Zasha, can’t slow down,” he said.
The feverish words were spoken in Sharian. The foreign language was an intimacy that made her gush fresh juices. There were few humans who were fluent in Sharian, and she’d never imagined she would hear it in this context when she learned it back in school. Calloused fingertips dug into her hips as he pinned her to the bed. His engorged member filled every inch of her there was. The bump of his head against her cervix made her twinge as her walls clamped down around him.
“You’re so tight, so tight and hot around my cock.”
Awe filled her when her walls adapted to his girth, and the pain took a back seat to the pleasure that unfurled inside her. His hands tilted her hips, and she saw stars as he hit the cluster of nerves inside her.
“Yes!” she said.
This was what she had waited for. Her hips snapped up to meet his strokes as he freed her of his weight.
“You feel so good inside me, Phelan.”
Shaky fingers wrapped around his biceps as she dug her heels into the mattress.
The wet sound of his balls as they slapped against her was music to her ears as her core quivered. Her walls clamped down as the pressure built up exploded. Moments later, Phelan joined Zasha in oblivion. With a roar, his powerful spray rocketed inside her.
Chapter Four
The early day sunshine that filtered in through the window woke Zasha from a fitful slumber. Her first moments of awareness were filled with aches and pains. But those paled in comparison to her shame. She had let him take her any way he pleased, begged him to at some point. Her face grew hot as she cast a glance over her shoulder, relieved to discover him asleep. She had been naïve to think they could satisfy their curiosity and continue on as before.
Shar men aren’t like human. We mate for life.
The words that hadn’t penetrated through her sex-crazed haze were loud and clear. What the hell had she been thinking? Wait, she hadn’t been. That was the problem. There must be some sort of predisposition to aliens ingrained in her genetic make-up. Because her experience, both past and present, showed Johnson woman plus an alien male amounted to an addled brain. How could she make the same mistake as her mother? To become so swept away by emotions your common sense failed.
Not that she would ever place Phelan in the same category as Tavel. Tow-haired with strange emerald blue eyes, a squared jaw, and thin lips, Tavel was the reverse of Phelan. But the similarities were still too close for comfort. A lapse in judgment one night lead to misconstrued emotions; that kind of instantaneous affection wasn’t safe. It consumed you, mind, body, and soul. Left you blinded to the reality of who that person was. This had been one huge error in judgment, but if she wasn’t careful it could easily lead to more. Her mother, Tatiana Johnson, had fallen victim to what she thought was love. She would not disgrace her mother’s memory by being the second.
Before Tavel entered their lives, Tatiana had been a well-oiled machine. An office manager at a law firm by day and a single mother by night, she ran a tight ship, at home as well as in the workplace. Widowed by a fire that destroyed everything she owned during her pregnancy, Tatiana was an independent woman with focus and an intensity that could make you squirm. It was an attitude she’d passed on to her daughter.
“Adapt or die” was the adage Zasha had adopted in her honor when she found herself on her own way too soon.
Grief struck her fresh as she eased her frame from beneath the heavy weight of her lover’s arm. She held her breath in her lungs as she slipped from the bed. Her bare feet were silent on the carpet as she gathered scattered articles of clothing. Clumsy fingers pulled her costume over her head. The sound of the zipper pulled up her
black boots seemed too loud in the massive room. Tense she paused to see if Phelan would stir. He looked so innocent in his sleep.
His face was relaxed. His lips were parted as he inhaled and his chest rose and fell. The tan skin beckoned to her, and she knew it was time to leave. It seemed in poor taste, but a part of what made her a good agent was her instinct for when to press forward and when to retreat. The doorknob was in mid-turn when the voice behind her spoke.
“Was I too rough last night? I would have been gentler had I known—”
“I didn’t want you to be gentle, Phelan,” she said.
The last thing she wanted was for him to feel guilt. He had given her what she’d asked for, and more.
“Then why won’t you look at me.”
She turned to glance over her shoulder and damn near swallowed her tongue. Propped up in bed, he looked edible. His brown locks were mussed and fell over one eye as the black sheets rode dangerously low on his hips.
“Happy?”
“No, Zasha, I’m not.”
Her mouth fell open as he tossed the sheet aside and stood from the bed. His steps were sure, his face a mask of determination as he came to stand in front of her and his semi-erect dick bobbed.
“Even now your arousal permeates the air.”
Muscular arms pinned her to the wooden door she leaned against. One hand was place on either side of her head, and his body hovered so close she could feel the intense heat that radiated off him. He was close, but not near enough to provide the skin to skin contact that she wanted in the worst way. Her hands clenched into fists as the sharp pain her fingernails helped ground her.