by Poppy Rhys
They stood there in silence for a few moments more.
“Fine, I’ll just wing it.”
“Wait,” he held up a digit-challenged hand. “Wait for night, and I will take you to port. It’s the direction I am headed as well.”
Right, he did mention Bocern during first meal, she remembered.
“Why can’t we leave now?”
“Safer with the darkness,” he gave a quick nod, like he was trying to help her understand his logic, which, she did. The daylight would give too much exposure.
Fin twisted her ring, contemplating the pros and cons.
“Hmm, no,” she decided, taking a step toward the door. “I need to leave now, and since you’re of no help-”
“I said no,” he ground out, blocking her path.
“Get out of my way.”
“Or what, little human?”
“Or I’ll scream, and we’ll both go down!”
It slipped, her temper getting the better of her, before she realized she wouldn’t be doing that. Because, in fact, she didn’t want to be arrested.
“I said,” he began lowly, that rumbling voice clicking along as if he had no patience any longer, “I will take you to the port tonight.”
Fin swallowed, his towering frame causing her to tilt her head upward to look at him.
“Now, sit down, and shut up.”
“Fuck you.”
“Ah-ah, little human,” he tsk’d her, snapping his teeth with a click. “Don’t test me.”
Pick your battles, Fin!
Self-preservation, and all that.
“Alright,” she said slowly, chin held high, her brain still preoccupied with deciding if she was onboard with his proposition. “I’ll wait. But we’re leaving tonight, not tomorrow, or the next day. Understand?”
He didn’t bother answering, simply stared at her, like he wanted to rip her limbs off, and fuck her at the same time.
Her body tingled.
Pinch.
Before she could censor her eyes, they drifted down his bare, muscled chest. One of his pectorals flinched under her gaze, and she quickly looked away.
An awkward gap of silence wedged itself between them, causing her to scratch at her hairline uncomfortably.
“I think I’ll wash the dishes,” Fin said abruptly, inwardly groaning. “For Senna.”
She hated doing dishes. That’s how desperate she was for a distraction to pass the time, and to end the stiff exchange.
He made a sound in his throat, an ‘mm’ of acknowledgement before he stepped into the makeshift miniature greenhouse off the main room that was made up of recycled stained glass.
She shook herself, and then set about finding dish soap.
****
By the time three hours had passed, Finley had cleaned not only the dishes, but the floors, finished the dusting, the mopping, and rearranged the three vases of fresh flowers that were completely in the wrong place.
She folded her arms over her chest, lifting a hand to nibble on the skin of her thumb as she squinted her eyes to deliberate. Once she pushed the small vase in the window to the left by another inch, she was satisfied.
“They look better where you have placed them.”
She whirled around, having momentarily forgotten about where she was and who was in the dwelling with her. It’s what happened when she got consumed with a task.
Surprise stunned her momentarily. Did he just compliment her?
“Thanks,” Fin rolled a shoulder. “I hope so. It’s kind of my job.”
“You arrange vases?” He looked amused.
“Well, not only vases,” her cheek ticked. “Furniture, decorations, pretty much anything to do with the home. I arrange interiors with Dana. She’s better with the colors and moods, and I’m better with the placement, so we make a good team.”
“For who?”
“For clients,” she replied, realizing too late that word might rub him the wrong way. Fin quickly glanced at his face. If it did, he didn’t show it.
“Why Bocern?” she flipped the subject. “Is that where you’re from?”
Hunter made his way to the kitchenette, setting down the cluster of herbs he’d brought in from the greenhouse. It was strange, seeing him handling a mundane domestic task. Kind of went against the whole barbarian thing he had going on.
She watched as he ran his hand through his wavy, shoulder length locks. A muscle in her finger twitched, finding the act disturbingly provocative.
Her wide orbs flitted over the muscles of his back, noticing there were no scars from the Fumio female he spoke of the night before. She wasn’t sure what repairing entailed, but Senna must be good at her job.
“I am from Yari,” he said, turning, and she quickly blinked her eyes to prevent them from skittering down his chest for the second time that morning.
“Why don’t you go there?”
“What territory are you from?” he asked instead. “On Dor Nye.”
Fin rubbed under her bottom lip, the change in spotlight not lost on her. He already seemed to know more about Dor Nye than she did about Yari. “Dranza, along the black waters of the Keeg Sea.”
“You have family there?”
“Mhm,” she nodded. “My mother, my fathers, and many other relatives nearby-”
A sudden pounding vibrated the locked door.
Both of them froze, heads swiveling to the entrance as the blood in her veins chilled to ice.
“Quickly,” Hunter ushered in hushed tones while holding up the makeshift flap.
Finley wasted no time, dropping to her hands and knees as she crawled into the narrow passage.
Preparing to twist onto her back, she was cut short as the alien was already crawling in on top of her, and then everything went dark as the flap silently dropped back down with the careful guidance of his foot.
Her eyes were wide, straining and failing to adjust to the impenetrable shadow around her. There was nothing to shed any flicker of light in the glorified hole.
Silence reined upon them, the only sounds in the cramped space was their shallowed breathing, and the muted sounds of whoever was at the door.
The dust upon the floor she was getting intimately familiar with, swept up her airways, and the tickle of a massive sneeze made her nose burn and her eyes water.
She swiftly dipped her head down into her hand, clamping her fingers over her nose and breathing through her mouth so she could hold back the powerful expulsion that was building.
The stinging stopped as she continued to pinch her nostrils.
She felt the heat of Hunter’s body above her, the thin layer of fabric leaving much to be desired. His arm warmed against her side as he hovered above her while the minutes ticked by. How long was it going to take for them to get the hint no one was home?
Well, that no one was going to answer the door, anyway.
There was a warm breath at the back of her head, strands tickling as Hunter’s nose sniffed her.
Muscles tensing, she froze.
“What are you doing?” a harsh, nasally whisper.
“Nothing, human…” the sound of something laced his tone. Annoyance? Shame? She couldn’t tell.
“Yeah, right,” she groused. “Stop smelling my hair.”
“It smells good.”
“Thank you. But that’s beside the point.”
“Why does your voice sound like that?” he inquired, puzzled. She felt his hips lower, relaxing against her backside which made her eyes bug even further in the pitch.
“I have to sneeze,” she groaned. “Get off me.”
“I have nowhere to go.”
She felt his nose against her hair again.
“Hunter!” her body jolted with her forceful whisper-yell. “Stop. Smelling. My. Hair.”
His hips jerked, and unless he’d shoved a water bottle down his loincloth before crawling into the hole, which Fin highly doubted, he was dry humping her!
“I’m going to murder you, I swear it to t
he five trade planets,” she growled. “Hunter, stop!”
“I would if I could,” he groaned, resting his forehead against her hair as his breathing became heavy. His hips jerked against her ass once more, a little more forceful.
That morning’s episode replayed fresh in her mind’s eye.
“Try harder,” she snarled, pinned beneath him and unable to do anything, not that she knew what she would do exactly if she had full mobility. Maybe slap him upside the head so he could focus on something other than assaulting her for the second time in the same day.
Fin bit into her lips, holding back the moan threatening to escape her when he thrust against her ass again. Her pussy tightened, her throat went dry, and she squeezed her eyes shut to try and block out the memory of his talented fingers.
One sheep, two sheep, three-
Wait, she wasn’t trying to go to sleep.
Oh God, she couldn’t even think straight.
“Listen,” she said into the silence.
For a few heartbeats, they both stilled.
“They’re gone. I don’t hear them anymore.”
Her ears strained for a few more seconds.
“Now get off me,” she was still whispering. She began to wiggle backward but when he didn’t budge, she paused in her efforts. “Why aren’t you moving?”
“I’m stuck.”
The pangs of her chest tightening shuddered an exhale from her lungs at the horrifying possibility of being stuck in the tight, black hole, breathing dirt and whatever else she couldn’t see, until Senna arrived, whenever that would be.
She heard him struggle, his hips lifting off of her, thankfully. “How are you stuck?”
“My shoulders,” he ground out, trying to shift again.
She knew it. The hole was too small for him, as she’d predicted.
Fin moved her hands to push against the floor, and that’s when her nose tickled again, bringing on that huge sneeze she’d been holding back.
Ah-choo!
Her lungs expelled a forceful gust of air, and she could feel more dust from the floor flying up and hitting her in the face, bringing about another sneeze.
She tossed her head back as she tried to get a breath of semi clean air, wincing at the same time Hunter grunted when the back of her head cracked him in the chin.
“Sorry.”
When a few more inches of his body were freed, Fin had enough room to properly lean up on her elbows. She pushed against the floor below her, her back shoving up against his chest.
“That isn’t working,” he choked.
She bit her bottom lip, her guts knotting when she realized what could work.
Oh please, let my sanity be intact when I get out of this damn hole.
Instead of pushing upward, she shoved back against him, her ass hitting him square in the groin.
A surprised gasp, followed immediately by a pleasured groan hummed above her. She felt his body shift subtly, and then jammed backward once more.
“This-”
Slam.
“Is-”
Shove.
“The most awkward-”
Smash.
“Thing-”
Pound.
“I’ve ever had-”
Bang.
“-to do!”
She wheezed, coughing on the dust floating around from all her movement.
“Finley,” he rasped, shifting once again as a little more of his broad shoulders dislodged. “Again. Last time.”
She placed her palms against the floor more firmly, pulled forward, and shoved back into Hunter with all her might.
He dislodged completely, and she scrambled rearward as quickly as her body allowed, driving the Yarian out of the hole with her haste like a burrowing rodent being smoked out of the ground, until both of them tumbled backward out of the passageway, the trash bin clanging and spinning when they bumped into it.
Finley’s head bounced up off his chest before she scrambled to sit upright, coughing up a lungful of dust. Hunter was breathing heavily still, and she tossed him a dirty look as she continued to hack away on her hands and knees.
When he groaned, her eyes whipped to his face.
He began breathing deeply, the glint in his eyes changing from unsure to determined, raising the fine hairs on the back of her neck. He was quickly morphing back into the crazed Yarian who nearly scraped off her face when he lunged the cell bars at Carnal Bazaar the night before.
She quickly scrambled to her feet, a seemingly bad idea, as he tensed, watching her every movement like a beast about to pounce.
His breath grunted from his chest as he slowly raised from the floor, towering over her the closer he got.
“W-what’s wrong?”
CHAPTER SIX
Fin’s back pressed into the small counter, the edge digging into the base of her spine while she continued to inch further away from the looming Yarian.
“Mishk,” he grunted between gritted teeth, his loincloth moving, rising with each passing moment. Her eyes grew wide as she slid around him, taking steps backward into the living area while he continued to stalk her.
“Calm down,” her voice quavered. “Just breathe, Hunter.”
She watched a knot in his throat bob up and down with each repeated swallow, like he was a starving beast watching his meal get away from him.
Goosebumps popped up along her arms and her mouth went dry as she watched him untie his loincloth, letting it drop to the floor.
My sanity, my sanity, don’t abandon me now!
“Ffffinley,” he verbalized, a frenzied, untamed expression morphing his face. “Turn.”
“W-what? No, I won’t.”
Why did her voice sound so breathy? As if that intense mixture of hostility and desire swirling in his lavender eyes was hypnotizing her, making her thighs quake at the veiled threat of sinful acts they promised.
“Give me your hand,” he grunted, his muscles rippling with a shiver as his cock jumped.
****
“No,” she said breathlessly, slapping his and away pitifully. “I said no.”
“Hand,” he chopped out, grasping at her, his muscled chest heaving like he was suffocating. “Hand, or turn around.”
The fire seared from his core through every possible fiber that made up his being until it was hard to register what he was seeing, hearing, or feeling other than his debilitating need.
Need for her. To possess her, to have her beneath him, over him, touching him.
It was different this time. Something was wrong. He’d never burned so badly before. The mishk toxin was coating his mouth making him swallow over and over as he tried to dampen the urge to bite her.
He couldn’t. Wouldn’t. That was crossing a line. A line sacred to him, his people.
This haze would clear once he was spent. That’s all it was. Pent up frustration.
She was moving too slow as she reached out toward him, or maybe it just seemed that way because he was so consumed with the urge to release.
It didn’t matter either way as he grabbed her wrist, pulling until her palm grazed his hot flesh.
A violent shudder rolled through him on contact, the sting of his arousal painful and gratifying simultaneously.
When her fingers closed over him, the groan trapped in his chest couldn’t be contained any longer. That natural demand to thrust jerked at his hips until he was pumping into her hand, as he just couldn’t wait for her to decide to slide her fingers.
She moaned.
Surprise put a hitch in his movement before he was plunging into her hand like it was her tight, wet heat.
Five thrusts and he was spilling over her wrist and arm, shaking uncontrollably at the thrill that sung up from his core, but it was swiftly dampened with the terrifying realization it wasn’t enough.
His true seed hadn’t released, his arousal, his need, it couldn’t be slaked with just her hand. His mishk was demanding he possess her, as intended by The True One, Leeshi.
/> His head swam as he tried and failed repeatedly to reign himself in. He gripped his skull, cock pulsing painfully as it begged him to seed the female in front of him.
It must be his newfound freedom spurring him on. Maybe he was more excited to be free of Carnal Bazaar than he realized. Free to fuck who he chose.
Right now, he wanted the human.
And he would have her.
A madness like he couldn’t fathom was clasping his freewill to a dangerous degree.
“Not enough,” he snarled. “Disrobe. Now.” At the mixture of arousal and panic in her eyes, he groaned, a small part of him excited at her fear.
He couldn’t imagine what she must be thinking, how wary she must be. He was not himself, not completely. His cock twitched, hoping she would struggle.
Carnal Bazaar had warped his mind, turned him into a sick animal.
“No,” she told him, swallowing, her eyes straying to his cock again.
“Disrobe,” he tried to say nicely, but it came out as a snarling command while he bared teeth that caused her to flinch. When he grabbed for her, she darted backward and held up her hands.
“Alright, alright!” she yelled. “Just relax, asshole.” Her proud chin jutted forward, and he couldn’t help but snatch it between his fingers, forcing her to look him in the face.
“Watch your tongue, human,” he growled, unable to stop himself from pushing her face to the side as he licked the pretty pale skin of her ear.
She moaned again, nearly causing him to spill on the floor below.
Her trembling fingers reached back to unbutton the single bead at her spine.
The dress loosened over her chest, the entire act seemingly taking an eternity as she lifted the gown over her head and held it to her front in an attempt at modesty.
His eyes roved her flesh hungrily, a mixture of self-hate and lust boiling his blood for salivating after a human.
He gripped her arm as gently as his inflamed state allowed, but she still gasped which grated at his nerves.
His fingers clenched a handful of the fabric, pulling it from her and tossing it aside.
The view of full, pert breasts tipped with tanned, budding nipples made his chest rumble and his teeth ache to sink into her flesh.