by Julia Sexton
She bent her knees and spread her thighs wide apart, and finally she began to stroke herself, rolling her clit between her fingers until she was slick enough that she could feel her wetness dripping down her fingers.
She pressed two fingers to her entrance and pushed them in, her hips jerking towards the ceiling as she crooked her fingers back to find the best angle.
She thought of Isaiah’s hands, oddly enough. Slim and elegant with their long fingers, she couldn’t help but imagine that he would be good at this, and Mariah moaned at the idea of his fingers thrusting into her sex instead of her own.
So caught up was she in her fantasy, she didn’t hear the door slide open. She did, however, hear Isaiah’s quiet, startled gasp.
Mariah tipped her head back against the cushion to look at him upside down. Her fingers still in her pussy, she stared at him for a moment, debating with herself.
And then she grinned slowly and asked, “Going to just stand there, or are you going to help a lady out?”
She would at least get something out of him while she was stuck there.
Isaiah needed no further encouragement, and he strode further into the room, the door sliding closed again behind him.
Mariah rolled over onto her hands and knees, and she tugged her pants down just enough to bare her pussy.
Isaiah tugged his own pants down just enough to free his cock, and he quickly stroked himself to hardness before he knelt behind her on the cushion.
Mariah gasped sharply as he thrust into her in one go, his pelvis pressing against her ass. His first thrust was slow, as if he was getting used to it, and then he sped up, pounding into her wildly. Mariah gasped and moaned with each thrust, her back arching to close as much of the space between them as she could.
Isaiah settled one hand on the back of her neck, leaned over her back, and pushed. Mariah let out a startled grunt, but she let herself be pushed down onto the cushion, folding her arms on it and resting her cheek on them as Isaiah slammed into her, his hand on her neck holding her down.
She panted inarticulately against her arms as each thrust brought her closer and closer to the edge, until she stuttered out, “Oh—oh—I’m gonna—oh, fuck!” and she came with a bitten off cry and went limp, Isaiah’s other hand on her hip the only thing holding her up.
He continued to pound into her, both hands on her hips then to pull her back to meet each thrust, until finally his hips stuttered to a halt as he came, with a quiet noise that was almost like a growl.
Isaiah pulled out slowly, and he pulled Mariah’s pants back up before pulling his own pants up.
As he leaned away from her, Mariah finally let herself sprawl out on the cushion.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Mariah observed wryly. She rolled onto her side to look at him, her eyebrows raised expectantly.
“What did you even come in here for?”
Isaiah blinked at her, as if he didn’t actually remember.
He shook his head minutely to clear it and said, “I came up to inform you of dinner, but I became distracted. I cannot fathom how that could have happened.”
Mariah grinned slowly, like the cat that swallowed the canary. She stretched slowly on the cushion and rolled to her feet.
“I’ll be down soon. I need to go change into a different pair of pants.”
She sauntered out of the room slowly, and she knew Isaiah was watching her the entire time.
Chapter 6
“What are you even doing here, anyway?” Mariah asked halfway through dinner.
“And don’t just say ‘research,’” she added sharply when he opened his mouth to reply.
His eyes narrowed minutely, and he let out a reluctant sigh.
“I am here to determine if your world is compatible with my people for long-term exposure,” he replied.
Mariah’s brows rose slowly.
“Looking to invade?” she asked dryly.
“Not as such,” he answered flippantly.
“My species is old. Our own home world was rendered unlivable due to overpopulation a very long time ago, and space stations are quick to reach maximum capacity. So we research life-sustaining worlds to see which of them are safe for us to send our overflow to.”
After a moment, he admitted quietly, “Not many are.”
Before she even registered that she was moving, Mariah reached across the table to take his hand and squeeze it.
He looked up at her sharply, orange eyes startled. His fingers curled around hers in turn, and he offered a tentative smile.
“Will you be joining me in my bed again tonight?” he asked, and Mariah didn’t think she was imagining that he seemed hopeful.
“Well, why not?” she wondered.
“It’s damned tame compared to earlier.”
Finally, she startled a laugh out of him.
That night, it seemed natural for Mariah to lie down in the middle of the bed, and just as natural for her to let Isaiah press close to her back, his arms around her waist and his chin tucked over her shoulder.
She slept peacefully that night, and when she awoke the next morning, Isaiah was still wrapped around her, his breath puffing softly against her neck.
She could have woken him up, probably. But maybe not. He was a lot bigger than her, after all. It might take a lot to wake him. Mariah decided it would be best to just get comfortable again and wait for him to wake up.
She dozed off again easily.
She was more than used to the lighting and the way everything gleamed at that point, so finally she decided to investigate the library.
She didn’t know if any of the books would actually be in English, but it was worth a look. Besides, she wanted to see how far down the library went.
“I’ll be in the library,” she informed Isaiah before she went through the door to the stairs.
She strolled down the corridor quickly, coming to a halt at the door that still had two sticky notes stuck to it. It slid open as she approached. She paused on the inside of the door, giving the room a look over, before she decided where to start.
She made a loop around the catwalks on that floor, glancing over shelves of unfamiliar books in unfamiliar script. The catwalks were wide enough for her to walk easily, but she walked slowly regardless, keeping an eye open for any book she could actually identify.
By the time she made it back to the platform the door was on, she found Isaiah waiting for her, sitting cross-legged beside the door and looking faintly amused as he watched her.
“You are not going to be able to read any of them,” he informed her wryly.
“These are all books I brought with me or have had shipped in. My library of books in Earthen languages is considerably smaller.”
“How much is ‘considerably?’” Mariah asked.
“It fills that bookshelf in the apartment,” he replied.
Mariah blew out a blustering breath.
“Well that’s disappointing.” She reached for the ladder.
“I guess that just leaves seeing how far down this goes.”
She carefully stepped onto the ladder as Isaiah rolled his eyes.
She thought she had a sturdy grip on the ladder. She thought it was stable. But one moment she was on the platform, stepping to the ladder, and the next there was nothing but air beneath her as she plummeted without warning.
A long-fingered, pale hand closed around her wrist and jerked her to a halt so suddenly that her shoulder slammed into the ladder. She dangled there for a moment before Isaiah gave her a tug, and she grabbed onto the platform to haul herself back up.
Isaiah was sprawled out on his stomach, as if he had lunged across the platform to grab her. As Mariah scrabbled at the platform, though, Isaiah surged into motion. He sat up on his knees, grabbed both of her hands, and heaved her up onto the platform.
Mariah knelt there, trembling, glancing slowly between Isaiah and the drop off of the platform, what had just almost happened still sinking in.
And the
n she flung herself at Isaiah with enough force that he fell back onto his ass on the platform, and her lips collided with his as she kissed him like her life depended upon it.
His arms went around her, holding her close to him.
“I’m not making any massive promises here,” Mariah said breathlessly once they parted, “but I’m willing to give this mate thing a try.”
She grabbed his hands, stood, and tugged at his hands until he stood up, as well.
“Just not in here.”
They crashed down on the bed in a tangle of limbs, tugging at clothing and tossing each discarded garment to the floor. They kissed like they were trying to devour each other, as their hands explored and their hips rutted together.
Isaiah pinned Mariah to the bed, pressing her wrists to the mattress on either side of her head. Mariah lifted her legs and spread them, wrapping her legs around his middle as he leaned over her.
In one quick move, he sheathed his cock in her pussy, and Mariah gasped and threw her head back so quickly that she nearly hit it on the headboard.
She squeezed her legs around him like a vice as he began to thrust, his hips pistoning against the backs of her thighs. She ground her hips against him with each thrust, compensating for her arms being restrained.
Isaiah leaned down to kiss her again, tongues clashing as if they were getting ready to do battle with each other.
The kiss broke, and Isaiah trailed his lips downward, nipping and licking at Mariah’s neck.
“Are you mine?” he growled against her collarbone, and he gave a particularly hard thrust.
Mariah moaned as she was shifted up the bed with the motion.
“Yours,” she managed breathlessly.
“I’m yours, just keep going.”
Obligingly, Isaiah picked up his pace, slamming into her relentlessly.
Her voice grew louder with each thrust as she moaned emphatically. She dug her heels into Isaiah’s back and flexed her hands in his grip, and she came with a long, shameless moan.
Her muscles clenched around his cock, and Isaiah managed one more final, powerful thrust before he came, before Mariah had even finished trembling through her own orgasm.
They were silent after that, save for their panting breaths. Eventually, Isaiah leaned back to release Mariah’s hands, his softened cock slipping free as he did, leaving both his spend and hers dripping out of her.
As he moved to lie beside her, Mariah stretched out, stretching her legs towards the footboard until her toes pointed and reaching her hands towards the ceiling until her shoulders and wrists cracked. She went limp after that, releasing a long, contented sigh.
“Nap time,” she decided, breaking the silence.
“Then we’ll do it again,” she added.
“In the shower, though, maybe. Less stickiness then.”
Isaiah chuckled quietly as he lied down on his stomach, one cheek resting on his folded arms so he could look at her.
“That is reasonable,” he said, though he was fairly sure she didn’t actually hear him. She was already asleep.
Following her lead, he let his eyes slip closed. He drifted to sleep with his mate beside him.
***
Rescued By The Alien
Julia Sexton
Copyright 2015 by Julia Sexton
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced
in any way whatsoever, without written permission
from the author, except in case of brief
quotations embodied in critical reviews
and articles.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any
person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
First edition, 2015
Chapter 1
Melody lived a pleasant life. She was twenty years old, and she lived with her father. She hadn’t been to college yet, since she had decided to take two years off after high school to get her head back in order.
High school hadn’t been the most pleasant time of her life, after all. But it was over, and she was free to do what she wanted. She wasn’t rich, but her dad didn’t make her pay rent so long as she earned her keep around the house, and she earned a tidy amount of money by maintaining the neighbors’ lawns and gardens.
“Some of what you do with plants is magical, I swear,” Mrs. Griffin from across the street sighed.
“Those snapdragons weren’t even supposed to be perennials, but somehow you’ve gotten them to come back.” She sighed dreamily as she finished filling out the check and handed it over.
“Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you; the green thumb skipped me.”
Melody smiled politely and laughed gently. “It’s what I’m here for,” she replied pleasantly as she accepted the check.
“And I’m here if you have any questions.”
She waved cheerfully as Mrs. Griffin left, pocketed the check in her shorts pocket, and reached behind her neck to adjust the ties of her bikini top.
She’d had people tell her she shouldn’t wear bikinis before, but she never cared to listen to them. Maybe she didn’t look like the women in magazines, but she didn’t think she was unattractive.
She had high cheekbones, wide blue eyes, and skin and hair that glowed bronze in the sun. She wasn’t a tall, sleek willow of a woman, but she thought she might have looked weird if she was. At 5’1” she was not what anyone would call tall, and she had broad shoulders and broad hips and a chest that was bountiful, to say the least.
She rather liked the way she looked, and for as long as she could remember, her father had done whatever he could to make sure she knew that she didn’t have to look like a supermodel in order to be beautiful, and she had always believed him.
She supposed her self-confidence might have been what had led to her string of boyfriends in high school, though they had never lasted long. High school had been a nightmare of teasing and mockery, and she simply hadn’t been in a place to have an intimate relationship, and so one after another, the boyfriends got impatient and left.
One day, she would be ready to take that step, but she wasn’t going to force it. In the mean time, she was living a good life.
She was settling down on her knees in the grass to begin tending to the garden in front of her father’s house, but she was only there for a few minutes before the sky rapidly began to darken.
Brows furrowing in confusion, Melody looked up at the sky, and it was already so dark that she didn’t even need to shade her eyes.
“Strange…” she mused to herself quietly.
“It’s supposed to be sunny all day.”
Indeed, the forecast had called for hot, humid weather and clear skies. She had seen the forecast be wrong before, but she had never seen the sky get dark so quickly.
As if in reaction to her thoughts, suddenly Melody saw light. So bright and blinding that she yelped in surprise, clamped her eyes shut, and threw her hands up to cover them.
After that, everything seemed to go fuzzy, the ground felt like it vanished from beneath her, and she lost consciousness.
Melody woke up slowly, as if she had to swim through molasses. She was laying on something hard, and for some reason her neck, wrists, and ankles were cold.
She opened her eyes slowly, and she saw a gleaming metal ceiling. Slowly, slowly, she sat up on what she soon found to be a metal table. She stared down at herself to find that she was still dressed in her bikini top and denim shorts, but she had acquired metal cuffs around her wrists and ankles.
That would explain the inexplicable cold. Hesitantly, she reached up to her neck, and she probed delicately at the metal collar.
She looked around the eerily pristine, gleaming metal room cautiously and quietly called, “Hello? Is anyone there?”
She stared at the mirror on the other side of the room.
At first, there was no answer. And then, after almost a full minute, a voice like nothing Melody had ever heard spoke,
radiating from the ceiling.
Like the buzzing of a fly and the digital hum of an old dial-up modem, the voice said, “Undress.”
It was utterly impassive and cold.
“What?” Melody demanded, startled.
“No!”
There was no hesitation. As soon as the word left her lips, there was pain. Electricity lanced through her, coming from the cuffs and collars. Her back arched in agony and she screamed.
Her knees buckled and she spilled across the floor in a heap. And just like that, the pain stopped.
For a few seconds, she stayed on the ground, muscles still twitching. She pushed herself up with trembling arms until she was kneeling on the chilly floor.
She lifted her head to stare at the mirror.
“Remove your clothing,” the voice spoke again, still impassive and unchanged.
“Fuck off,” she spat, her voice trembling.