Highlander's Desire: Winter Solestice (Against All Odds Series 2)

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Highlander's Desire: Winter Solestice (Against All Odds Series 2) Page 12

by Veronica Wilson


  “So your appearance is the result of surgery?”

  “Sure, as much as nuclear physics is the result of a caveman grinding a couple of stones together in order to create fire,” James replied, a bit too eager to continue conversing with her.

  One thing did not change, she noted. He is still completely full of himself.

  “I understand,” she responded, thinking things through for a short moment. “So, let me get this straight—the reason you came to earth is that you can’t get a girlfriend?”

  This was risky, she knew, but it was the only real option she had. James was not completely detached from the situation. He actually liked her, even if he did not admit it to himself, and that meant that she had at least some degree of influence over his alien mind.

  “I am here because the survival of our great race is in question!” he yelled out in response, his veneer of self-control cracking for the first time since they met. “Did you ever have that burden dropped onto your back, Jasmine? Did you get sent to scour a desert full of inbred simpletons, told to find a promising candidate among that rabble? Don’t make me laugh. The greatest crisis you’ve ever had to endure was getting through Saturday night.”

  She could have argued his point. She could have noted the darkest parts of her life, and all the ways in which he was wrong, but she didn’t. Instead, she merely asked him a question.

  “Is it worth it, then? Giving me up to whoever it was who ordered you to do this, despite your feelings for me?”

  Tightening his lips, James merely stared at her, disbelieving what it was that she had just said. She was right, and his expression was as easy to read as an open book.

  “You don’t know the first thing about me, human.”

  “Really? Do you want me to take notes? Fine. First off, I know that you did not lie to me once since the time I’ve met you in that gutter of a bar. Sure, you’ve told me a lot of half-truths, but not once did you say an actual lie. I saw the way you looked at me, both clothed and nude, and you can’t fake that. Real, actual human beings take decades to perfect the skill and even they are not as good at it as you’d like me to think you are. Want me to go on?”

  “No. You’ve made your point.” James’ expression was similar to the one that people would wear around a graveyard. “Let’s assume that you are right. What then?”

  “You want me to believe that, feeling what you feel toward me, you would be just fine with handing me over to your employer, or whoever it is that orders you around?”

  The way that the alien’s jaws tightened at the mention of his superior betrayed just how unhappy he was with the way of things back on his home planet.

  “Let me guess, you aren’t exactly the first in the pecking order up there, are you?” She pressed her point, careful not to set him off completely.

  “We have the elite tribes, and they run the society. I am what you would call a… a ranger, although the comparison is rather crude.” The way that James spat the words out was completely unlike the demeanor he had presented until recently.

  “When we get there, some elite head honcho is going to take me for himself and you’ll never see me again, right?”

  “That was the plan, yes,” James replied, coldly staring at her.

  “And you are alright with that?”

  For a couple of seconds more, her captor gazed into her eyes, or maybe right through her. She couldn’t tell. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but closed it within a moment. Instead, his eyes started glowing, the diodes emitting a sinister yellow gleam.

  “This conversation is over,” he finally concluded, turning away from the immobilized woman and walking away, as another door opened up before him. Silently, he passed through that portal, not looking back once.

  Buzzing ominously, the exit slowly closed, leaving the woman with nothing but a sense of cold dread.

  ***

  She was not certain how many hours had passed, but by the time her captor returned to the room, Jasmine was thirsty and very tired. She could not even rest knowing what was in store, which made the experience even more horrible.

  Not saying a thing, the man’s eyes lit up again, causing the unpleasant buzzing sound to return, resonating throughout the chamber.

  In response, the metallic bed that Jasmine was strapped to started shifting, but this time not to the side. Instead, it rotated forward, placing her into a vertical position. Simultaneously, the floor opened up, revealing a small, black bag that obviously contained something.

  “We are here, Jasmine,” the alien’s voice once again overpowered the noise. As if in response, her straps disappeared back into the bed, causing her unprepared body to almost drop to the floor.

  “I assumed that you would prefer to slip back into your clothes before you stepped outside,” he said, gesturing for her to reclaim what was in the bag.

  Like a starving animal offered a fresh meal, the woman ripped the container apart, getting dressed in what was probably record time.

  “You don’t have to do this, you know?” Jasmine asked him while she was getting up, not knowing what else to do.

  “Oh, but I do,” he replied, those eyes glowing again, causing another wall to turn into a door.

  As before, the sound was off-putting, causing the anticipation that built up within Jasmine’s stomach to swell to even greater heights. She was on an alien planet, brought here in order to be gifted to some alien lord and serve as his personal breeding stock. There was no escape.

  Finally, the doors opened, exposing what lay behind and shocking her completely. What stared back at her from beyond the craft was not another planet, but a forest. Somewhere within the US, maybe even close to home.

  He couldn’t do it after all, the former captive concluded, turning toward the alien with elation and utter joy. James was glad for her—that much was apparent—almost as much as he was sad for letting her go.

  Oh no, I’m not letting you get off the hook so easily, mister! With a running start, she leapt toward this dark-haired hunk, embracing him with both her arms and legs, ready to shove her tongue down his throat. Her efforts, however, were obviated by his own as the alien immediately took charge of the situation, grabbing her by the bottom with both his arms and squeezing deep into that soft flesh.

  Like an electric diode itself, James’ tongue spread wave after wave of pleasure travelling down her throat, spreading and resonating throughout her body, focusing somewhere around her center. She could not tell whether this was a quirk of his inhuman physiology or merely the consequence of her own extreme arousal, but at this point she did not care.

  Holding her tightly, the alien carried his former captive’s body around the room before finally pressing her back against a smooth, slightly reflective wall. Swiftly, he repurposed those strong hands of his, grabbing her clothes by the sides and ripping off most of them in a single motion.

  Not completely certain what he held her up with while his hands were occupied, Jasmine looked downward, quickly finding herself faced with the solution to that conundrum: the area in-between her legs, oozing and dripping as it was, lay balanced on James’ own immense male member. Not wasting any more time, the alien grabbed her by the cheeks of her ass, lifting her body upward, a moment before proceeding to impale it on top of his gargantuan manhood.

  “Oooooohhh…” Jasmine moaned loudly, her insides stretching to accept this intrusion. Under normal circumstances, the insertion of something that massive would most certainly hurt, but Jasmine’s arousal paired with some of the lubricant left behind by that awful probe made the sensation nothing short of pure bliss.

  Taking the hint, James pulled out slightly, then jammed himself right back inside again, causing his former captive to give off another squeal of approval. Again and again he repeated the motion, each time faster and stronger than the last, causing ripple after ripple of electric glee to expand throughout her body.

  It’s so goooood, her inner voice, previously wary of the alien, now screa
med out in joy, becoming more and more inflamed by raw passion with each and every second that passed. It repeated the same thing, faster and faster, following in the rhythm of her abductor’s thrusts, until finally the sounds converged inside of her head, exploding in unison with the most immense, mind-blowing orgasm she had ever experienced.

  As she screamed out, communicating the all-encompassing pleasure to her lover, her moist nether regions tightened, causing James to begin convulsing. Still jackhammering at top speed, every muscle in his body contracted as much as possible, while his massive erection let out a warm, sticky discharge within her body.

  Completely out of control, the dark-haired alien let out a single, extended moan, as the image of his pleasure-emanating expression whited out from Jasmine’s vision, her climax sending her on a different kind of trip to the stars.

  ***

  Ah, memories, Jasmine mused as she observed the far-away planets through the reinforced glass of one of the spacecraft’s many windows.

  Half a year had passed since she and James embarked on their extended, galaxy-wide honeymoon, and every day of it had been heaven. They’d had to remove the locator built into the spacecraft to avoid being found, but James turned out to be more than up to the task. Granted, there were some routes they had to avoid for the foreseeable future—those heavily used by his former bosses—but the life the two of them had was something straight out of a romantic dream…

  Together, they’d explored and made love on countless worlds, each one more wondrous and inspiring than the previous one, and with each new planet, the pair’s hunger for each other grew and grew, perpetuating the circle of passion.

  I’ve come a long way from that rickety old place in the middle of nowhere, Jasmine concluded, trying to remember the faces and voices of all the people she used to know, and finding the endeavor rather difficult.

  It’s funny, she told herself, how important they used to be to me, how big of a deal insignificant little opinions were. None of them mattered anymore, and they never would again.

  Perspective will do that to you, she chuckled, unable to wrestle her gaze away from the sight of a shooting star that moved somewhere in the distance. As will the right person.

  James was in the next room, she knew, engaged in navigating the ship through the unknown reaches of surrounding space. It was about time for her to interrupt that strenuous activity with a round of healthy lovemaking. I’m sure he’ll be up for it. After all, isn’t he always?

  Her alien lover was enjoying this life as much as she did, that much was obvious. For the most part, though, he still did not open up completely, and information about his people’s ways, predicament, and culture were not topics the dark-haired stud was too willing to discuss.

  At least, not until recently.

  Just the day before, James had finally shared his real name. It was long and difficult to pronounce, but after several minutes of failed attempts Jasmine had finally managed to get it right: Jha’reedan Vaezz’t. A couple of times she tried to refer to him like that, but it turned out he preferred his assumed identity instead. Other information that managed to get through that powerful screen he kept up, however, did not seem particularly good.

  The “great race,” as he called them, were proud, inquisitive, and petty, not unlike humanity, and James was at times concerned about what they’d do when they realized that one of their best scouts was gone.

  From time to time Jasmine found herself thinking about that question herself, but she’d quickly snap right back and enjoy what was in front of her. After all, the life she used to lead back down on Earth was not worth living, while what the two of them had built, here in this fast little spacecraft, was simply perfect.

  And for the right person, the woman mused as she turned away from the stellar spectacle, no sacrifice is too great.

  THE END

  My Alien Abductor

  Gasping for breath, the young woman contorted into a sitting position.

  Her awareness of her surroundings still hazy and unreliable, she tried taking a look around, but it was futile. Everything she tried to lay her eyes on was blurry. Even so, it was apparent that wherever she had found herself, it was someplace new.

  Heart racing and temples pulsating, she turned her attention to herself instead. Placing her hand in front of her face, she tried flexing her fingers and was barely able to feel any motion. Her vision now slightly sharper, at least up close, she noticed something she did not expect: her fingers, hand, and the rest of her arm had been placed inside some strange, tight-fitting glove.

  It does not seem to end with my arm. Swiftly, she directed her gaze toward her legs and abdomen, struggling all the while to keep everything in focus. A couple of seconds later, it was certain that she was right: her whole body was covered with the material. It was black, stretchy yet strong, and strangely comfortable.

  Was this thing fitted for me? Though disturbing, the thought seemed to have been right on the mark. The bodysuit was tight where it needed to be and featured properly sized pockets for every protrusion, be those fingers or feminine curves.

  Mary Anne, you stupid, immature brat! What have you gotten yourself into this time? She tried to conjure forth memories, but flinched at the intense headache that invoked.

  Alright, I guess that’ll have to wait. Her vision now completely recovered, Mary Anne decided to focus on the strange room instead. It was smooth, like the inside of a slightly bent sphere. The walls and everything else were the color of freshly polished chrome. The furniture, appliances—or whatever they were supposed to be—appeared as if they had sprouted from the floor itself. Some of them, like the bed she had awoken in, were recognizable for what they were. Other objects, like the bizarre multi-limbed contraption in the shape of a freshwater hydra, easily defied any categorization.

  The hydra. A disgusting creature, Mary Anne recalled, but the animal itself was not as important as another fact. The device had reminded her of one of the many things that Miss Paulson taught in her biology class.

  The same Miss Paulson who disappeared without a trace, some eight months ago. She shuddered, the insides of her lower stomach contracting at the thought. Is this what happened to her? Have I disappeared without a trace as well?

  The lingering sensation in the back of Mary Anne’s head; the very same memories that she had decided to keep at bay due to the significant pain they caused, now exploded. Images, sounds, sensations, the whole jumbled lot expanded inside her mind, threatening t0 crush it under the immense weight of its own incoherence. Pressing on her temples with the palms of her hands, Mary Anne screamed, the entire room spinning around her shivering body. The sound she made, however, she did not hear, for her consciousness had gone somewhere else.

  Yesterday

  It was nighttime. Or very early in the morning, depending on your point of view.

  Mary Anne was back in her hometown of Wayward, a backwater little place located somewhere within the less civilized parts of the United States. She had just left the house of her best (and only) friend Andy, after their traditional horror movie marathon.

  They don’t make them like they used to, she concluded while musing on a scene from one of the films—the moon was up in the sky, just like it is now. It was full, and coldly beautiful. The clear white orb stared back into her eyes, welcoming her presence as it had so many times before. If only I could sit down and talk to it… who knows what stories it could tell…

  One step at a time, she paced toward her home, a rather droll place she lamentably had to share with her parents. Suddenly, she felt something dragging at her coat. Startled, Mary Anne turned around, ready to kick whoever it was right in the ‘nads. However, that turned out to be an overreaction, for it was nothing more than a large bush that had caught her overly long garment.

  I’ll have to remind the… whoever it is that lives here to take better care of their plants. Carefully, she freed her coat from the grasp of the overgrown plant, taking special attention not t
o damage it. Once it was loose, Mary Anne ran her gloved fingers over its smooth fabric once before letting it dangle by her fishnet-covered legs.

  Clothes like this don’t come cheap in these parts, she reminded herself, standing in front of the house whose owners she could not remember, staring down at her own body. A short, intentionally ragged black dress; a pair of high-heeled boots in the same color; and a decorative corset. Getting that stuff in Wayward was not easy, even nowadays.

  Do you have to be like that? Mary Anne could hear her father’s voice echoing within her head, saying what he usually would. The others are talking, you know? Her mother always followed along shortly, not deviating from her predictable behavior. They were always the same, and so horribly boring.

  It will be difficult for me to marry some local shmuck if everybody thinks I’m a Satanist or a lesbian, right? Good. She stared into the window of the house again, realizing that the identities of its occupants didn’t interest her in the least. Best of all, it didn’t bother her at all that she didn’t care.

  Angry at herself for spoiling the wonderful mood she’d had going, Mary Anne resumed her walk home. But the train of thought she had embarked on earlier didn’t let her off the hook as easily as she’d have liked. Ever since she could remember, Mary Anne had been an outsider. Boys, girls, adults—everyone looked at her as if something was wrong, and it only got worse with age. By the time she had graduated high school she had turned into a cynical, albeit beautiful, girl, whose cutting tongue didn’t let anyone near.

  And I wouldn’t have it any other way. The Christian teaching of “turning the other cheek” having found no ground within her, Mary Anne was perfectly willing to respond in kind. Her parents, however, would have none of it, having expected their little girl to get married, or at the very least betrothed, well before that time.

 

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