by K. Webster
She giggles and my gaze snaps to hers.
“Something funny?” I tease with a half grin.
“You’re growling,” she says, her eyes glimmering with trust.
“My female brings out the beast in me.”
She simply smiles at me as I completely rid her of her suit. “Take yours off too, Calix. I want to see my alien.”
I do not remind her that she is the alien because she seems proud of her claim on me. I will let her call me whatever the rekk she wants as long as she looks at me with those pretty blue eyes and wears that lovely smile.
The removal of my suit is less gentle. A little feral in fact. Normally, I am careful not to puncture my suit or tear the seams. This solar, I practically rip it from me. When my heavy cock bounces out, her brows lift as she blatantly studies it.
“I hope it is to your satisfaction,” I say with a hint of smugness. I have watched her long enough to learn the meaning of her expressions. This one she is wearing now is the same one she has when she is hungry. The way she licks her lips sends a thrill shooting through me. I catch another whiff of her sweet scent and let out a groan.
“Make love to me,” she commands, her gaze still on my cock.
“I would like to taste your cunt first. The scent makes my mouth water,” I admit. “Please.”
She giggles. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” Her thighs pull apart and she reveals herself to me. Like the bud of a lilapetal, her petals open for me, revealing a pink center.
I grip her thighs and pull her farther apart before running my nose along her wet slit. The nub she likes touched seems to throb with need. I lick it, sending her back arching off the cushion.
“Yesss,” she moans. “Do that again.”
Eager to please my mate, I swirl my tongue in the same spot over and over again. The sweet nectar is delicious and I could grow addicted to it. Similar to how our commander is addicted to the sun. I am addicted to my mate’s cunt. I become ravenous and am no longer satisfied with simply licking her nub. My tongue laps at her opening, where her sweet juices leak from her. The more I suck and taste her, the more she thrashes in a delightful way.
“More, oh God, Calix!”
Her pleas and moans spur me on. At one point, I get a little into pleasing her that I am not careful with my double fangs. When I taste her metallic blood, I freeze.
“Emery,” I hiss against her thigh where her blood beads.
“It’s okay,” she whimpers. “It feels good.”
When I suck at the blood on her thigh, just near her cunt, she moans so loudly I am afraid she will lure predators to us. What I am doing is incredibly unsanitary, yet I cannot stop sucking at the tiny hole I have created. Her taste is maddening. I somehow manage to unlatch my mouth from her small wound and bring my attention back to her nub. I suck on it like I want to suck on her wound. She especially likes it when I run my forked tongue on either side of her nub based on the way she screams. Soon, she is shuddering as though she is suffering from a bad case of The Rades. Her sweetness leaks from her body and I eagerly lap it up.
“Oh my God,” she rasps. “That was the most amazing thing ever.”
I pull away from her and grin. My face is wet from her juices—juices that I am eager to have dripping from my cock.
“Did Aria tell you what it feels like when we release our seed?”
Her eyes widen. “No. Does it hurt?”
“Not at all. In fact, you become…” I trail off. “The toxica that is present in our seed has paralytic effects. Are you…do you still want…”
“Will you protect me?”
“Rekking always,” I growl.
She smiles and her lashes bat against her cheeks. “Then I trust you. I want it to feel good for you.”
“Just being with you is good enough.”
Her fingers dig into my biceps as she pulls me to her. “I don’t want it to be good enough. I want it to be the best thing you’ve ever felt in your life.”
My body settles on hers. I love the way she feels so tiny beneath my larger, stronger frame—as though I am the only one who can ever protect her. She is mine to adore and look after. Mine. I rub my cock through her slickness and against her nub, wetting it.
“You are such a giving mate,” I praise, my mouth eager to lock with hers once more. I brush my lips over hers as the head of my cock pushes against her opening.
“Maybe I’m a greedy mate,” she teases. Her heels push into my buttocks as she urges me inside her.
I let out a groan of pleasure as I thrust my hips and drive all the way into her tight, tiny body. She cries out, her nails digging into my flesh, but she does not push me away. Her arms lock around my neck and her lips press to mine.
“Make love to me, Calix.”
Her words stoke a fire inside me. I give in to my animalistic instincts to mate and buck wildly against her. She roams her hands all over me, but I want them in mine. I grip them and pin them to the cushion on either side of her nog. Slightly, I lift up so I can watch her as I mate with her. Our bodies are making slurping sounds, but her moans are a song for my heart.
“You are so wet and tight inside,” I grunt. “It feels so good. I think I may not be able to refrain from spilling my seed.”
“Why would you ever want to refrain?” she whispers.
I groan as my release rushes through me. My seed fills my lilapetal up to the brim. A strong sense of male pride ripples from me as I conclude my seed will unite with hers, making us a little mortling of our own. I grunt until I have emptied every last drop and then I fall against her, careful not to crush her.
“Shhh,” I breathe as I kiss her pink nose. “Let me take care of you now.”
I had expected panic like Breccan had mentioned, but not Emery. Her blue eyes shine with trust and adoration. She is unable to move and I am locked inside her. I could see how that might be frightening.
But not my dear, brave mate.
Her blue eyes burn with fire and determination.
She is a fighter.
And whatever is ailing her, we will fight together. Together, we will heal her.
“My heart only beats for you,” I murmur against her soft lips. “It never beat until you. You give me life, my fragile lilapetal.”
A tear leaks down her temple.
“Do not worry,” I coo, understanding the worried thoughts going on in her nog without her having to voice them. I am that in tune with her. “As long as your heart beats, so will mine. And if yours ceases to beat, mine will too. Whatever happens, we will do it together. In this life or the one after.”
9
Emery
What can only be thunder, cracks and then booms and I shoot awake. The heavy weight of Calix’s arm falls with a thump in between us. The vacuuroom that had seemed so sturdy yesterday sways precariously in the howling wind. For a moment, my thoughts can’t quite catch up, my brain still languid with the aftereffects of the paralytic—toxica he’d called it—and the stupor of near-drugged sleep. Then, the lightning strikes again, closer, louder, and I stumble to my feet to the doors.
I peer through the small port-like window and the view on the other side causes my heart to drop to my feet. The storm that had seemed so far away the day before is right over us. It boils like an angry red-orange tornado, except it’s as wide as the horizon and threaded with violent bolts of lighting and I don’t even know what else.
We have to leave.
Now.
My knees cry out in protest as I throw myself to Calix’s side. “Calix, wake up. We have to go.”
He murmurs in his sleep and reaches an arm up to wrap around my waist. Then my words seem to sink in and his eyes snap open, dark and as stormy as the sky outside. His gaze flashes to the window and he’s on his feet so fast I come unbalanced and fall on my hands.
Cursing under his breath, or at least, I guess it’s cursing for morts, he tosses clothes in my direction. “You must dress. We’ll have to travel alongside the storm u
ntil we find a break or shelter.”
“We can’t stay here?” I ask, even as the structure whines violently. I dress in the minnasuit and then the zu-gear as quickly as possible. It’s not until I join him at the entrance that I realize I’m not out of breath. On any other day, the adrenaline, the panic and rushing around would have reduced me to a wheezing mess.
I don’t have time to give it any thought because an explosion of sound crashes right outside the door and I let out a screech of terror. “Calix?”
He’s dressed in his own gear and gestures for me to precede him through the door. Wind—harsh and unrelenting—assaults us hard, nearly knocking me off my own feet. Luckily, Calix is strong and is able to guide me to the vehicle. “Get on and wait for me.”
I shake my head, my gaze full of the growing storm. “No, let me help you.”
Calix tips my chin up with a clawed finger. “No, lilapetal. I want you where I can keep you safe. Stay here. I’ll be back.”
He waits until I’ve buckled myself in the dust-mobile, which I do without further protest because arguing will only take longer, then he jogs back to the structure. I take my eyes off him only to glance at the rumble of clouds. It had been so easy to forget the dangers that lurked outside of our little sanctuary while his hands were on me, so easy to lose myself in the mastery of his touch. Was this, like my illness, a punishment?
Calix returns a few tense minutes later, revs up the dust-mobile, and we shoot into the shadowy tendrils of clouds. I’m in charge of holding onto his zenotablet that guides us on where to go.
I don’t speak for a while, letting him navigate the treacherous terrain without distraction with my heart pounding in my throat.
“Do not worry, sweet-one. Everything is going to be fine.”
Whatever response I was going to have is cut off by the thunderous roar of noise that fills the protective bubble of the dust-mobile. I slap my hands over my head and fold myself in two, trying to take up the least amount of space possible. My first thought is entirely selfish. No, I’m not ready to leave yet. Then, my worry shifts to Calix. Is he hurt? Beside me, I hear him grunting and cursing, then another tremendous roar and a loud clap that I can feel deep down in my bones.
“Magnastrikes,” I hear Calix shout as the dust-mobile begins to jerk wildly. “Stay down.”
I want to look up to make sure he’s okay. I want to reach out a hand to touch him, but my muscles are locked with indecision.
The dust-mobile runs over something, throwing me into the air, then slamming me back down on the seat with enough force that I bite clear through my lip. Blood and saliva pool in my mouth, drip down my lips and onto the visor, splattering across my field of vision. I brace one hand on the dash in front of me to stabilize as we crash and bump across rocky terrain.
I have one second where I turn my head and see a flash of Calix against the angry red sky, then I’m thrown against the dash and all goes dark.
The scent of burnt plastic and hot metal fills my nose, even with the protective helmet and rebreather, causing me to wheeze and choke as I struggle back to consciousness. The parts of me that had been so sated with pleasure from last night now scream out in protest as I try to push myself upright. Blinded by the blood pooled on the inner portion of my visor, I suck in a deep breath and detach it. Then, I carefully set up the external rebreather, designed somewhat like a diver’s apparatus, that covers my mouth and nose. My lip is still bleeding, but it’s begun to clot. Without the bloodied visor, I peer through the shadowy interior of the dust-mobile, hoping to find Calix uninjured.
Please, let him be okay.
“Calix?” I call out, my voice wobbly and distorted from the external rebreather. “Are you all right?”
Ropes of wire and insulation drape down from the ceiling like ghostly intestines and I claw my way across them to get to his side. I find him slumped against the shattered window, unconscious.
“Calix?” I reach out a tentative hand and gently shake his shoulder. “Wake up. We have to keep moving.”
The storm is right on us. We have to get our ride repaired and get back on the road as soon as possible before it’s too late. Climbing across the center console, I perch awkwardly as I survey his injuries and the overall damage.
Aside from what looks like a head injury of sorts, Calix doesn’t seem to be bleeding from anywhere else, but I’m no doctor and head injuries can be serious. Impotent tears leak from my eyes as I take off his own visor and clamp the external rebreather to his mouth so I can better asses his wounds, even though I know there’s next to nothing I can do about them.
I mop up the blackish-red-colored blood on his face as best as I can with a spare bit of cloth I find. The large gash near his temple is leaking blood more freely than makes me comfortable, so I tie a makeshift bandage around it. That’s the best I can do for now, until I make sure we’re both safe from the storm. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to do that, but I’ll have to think of something.
It takes several tries, but I manage to get the door on my side open, though it’s damaged and will only open halfway. I squeeze out in my suit and do a quick study of our surroundings.
At first, I think it’s the dark cast from the clouds that’s making everything seem so dark. Before, they’d been so thick and so opaque they’d blotted out any light from the sun other than the eerie red glow. Then I realize it isn’t clouds blocking out all the light, it’s rock. Thick, towering rock.
Calix had driven us straight into a cave.
I want to laugh. In fact, it bubbles up in my chest, but I clear my throat and force myself to focus. Just because we’re in this cave, doesn’t mean we’re safe yet. We need shelter, food. Calix needs that cut doctored before it gets any worse.
I give myself short, easy-to-follow instructions. Get out the vacuroom, Emery. Find a suitable location to set it up, Emery. Then I take fifteen long, agonizing minutes to figure out how to get the damn thing to open and waves of relief course over me when all it takes is the simple push of a button. Just like Jareth explained. It springs open and unfolds itself. Moments later, the structure is complete.
You have to get him inside where it’s safe, Emery.
I go back to the dust-mobile and rally my strength and focus on getting Calix to the shelter. He’s got a good hundred pounds on me, and all the exertion and excitement already has me feeling weak and light-headed.
Another bolt of that charged, murderous red lightning flashes, spurring me into action. Rushing back to the vacuuroom, I grab what I need before going back to Calix. Using one of the blankets from our bedding, I arrange it at the foot of the driver’s side and carefully open his door without letting him fall out. His dead weight crashes into me, knocking out what little breath I have, but I don’t have time to focus on me. He is my priority.
I had nothing before I met Calix and meeting him has given me everything. Losing him would be worse than being alone. Having that slice of happiness and having it be ripped away is unthinkable. I’ve finally met someone I connect with.
I could get used to it being just the two of us.
No matter what planet we’re on.
I never thought it’d be with an alien, but when I look at him, I don’t see the forked tongue and pale skin. I see the man who looks at me like I’m the key to his happiness.
And I’ll be damned if I lose that now.
It takes longer than I like and Calix groans in pained protest as I maneuver his body out of the dust-mobile and onto the thick blanket. His head wound is bleeding profusely, but he’s still breathing based on the rhythmic and reassuring sound echoing in our comms.
“Almost done, baby. We just have to get you inside and we’ll be okay,” I tell him.
White spots dance along my vision, but I grit my teeth and get back to my feet. Gripping the blanket tight in both hands, I begin to heave it backward toward the vacuuroom. I have to pause several times on the edge of losing consciousness, but I fight to keep myself upright and d
rag him in fits and starts into the shelter and away from the storm. The decontamination process is an easy press of a button that sprays off the harmful toxins on our suits before giving us a healthy burst of air to dry us. It takes some wrangling, but I manage to remove both of our zu-gear, masks, and boots. Now that I can’t hear his breathing in the mask, I am worried. I feel a fluttery pulse under my fingers when I press my hand to his throat. He’s still alive.
“We made it. We’re safe.”
I know he can’t hear me, but I keep talking as I work him the rest of the way in the vacuuroom and lock up the doors behind us. I’m not sure how bad it’s going to get or if we’re even safe, but if the force of my will could sway the elements, we will be.
Food now, Emery.
I leave him propped against a wall inside our shelter just inside the decontamination area before readying the space for us. I take two of the meals he’d shown me before and manage, I hope, to properly heat them up. Once it and our beds are ready, I go back to Calix.
Bracing myself along the wall of the room, I shuffle to a bank of shelving where I find more clothes, supplies, and yes bandages. Everything is marked in their language, but I take a tube of cream and hope it’s an antibacterial salve.
Using a bottle of water and a swath of cloth, I tenderly clean the jagged edges of his wound. It’s deeper and bigger than I’d anticipated—the blood had obscured most of it. About four inches long and so deep I swear I see the white of his skull underneath, the wound steals what’s left of my breath. Frantic thoughts of brain damage and blood loss assault me, but I keep repeating the directions.
Clean the wound, Emery.
Put on the salve, Emery.
Bandage the wound, Emery.
When I’m done, I sit back on my heels, quivering. I watch him for a few long moments, like my doctoring will have some magical effect and he’ll wake if I hope hard enough.