Hero

by Cheryl Brooks

  Kyra was protesting that she had meant no such thing, but Micayla ignored her as she got up and crossed the room to stand squarely in front of Trag. They were almost exactly the same height; she didn't even have to lift her head to look straight into his fierce green eyes. "Hey, Trag," she said gently. "Got a minute? I think we need to go for a run or something. You know, to work off a little steam?"

  His eyes widened as his jaw dropped. "Uh, yeah, sure, Mick," he said. "Whatever you want."

  ***

  Glancing sideways at her as they walked down the corridor, Trag still didn't fully understand what had just happened. "You didn't have to do that," he said. "I'm a big boy. I can take a little heat."

  "Who says I did it for you?" she said, staring straight ahead.

  "Well, it sure seemed that way to me," he said roundly. "Nobody was questioning your sex appeal."

  "Oh? Is that what it was?"

  "Well, yeah," Trag said, beginning to question it himself, "wasn't it?"

  "Not really. I think it was more a matter of you being your own man." With a backward glance, Micayla added, "She doesn't own you, Trag. You can do whatever you want. You don't have to answer to her--and you don't have to please her either. You can fuck as many Neriks as you want."

  "Don't believe I'd care for that, actually," Trag said thoughtfully. "It was okay once, but--"

  Micayla gave an exasperated snort. "You do see my point, don't you?"

  "Well, maybe," Trag began.

  "She doesn't love you, Trag," Micayla said earnestly. "She loves your brother. I'm sure she's fond of you, but--"

  "She may not love me, but at least she's never hissed at me," Trag said. His tone was careless, but he followed it with a careful glance to gauge her reaction. Something told him it was the right thing to say, but he wasn't completely sure...

  She reacted all right; it stopped her right in her tracks. "Dammit, Trag! I said I was sorry! Are you going to keep throwing that in my face forever?"

  "Maybe," Trag said with a nonchalant shrug. "Let's just say it made a big impression on me."

  "Impression, huh?" she echoed. "Impression? I'll give you an impression..."

  Trag had one brief moment to brace himself before she sprang at him with a snarl and sank her teeth into his shoulder.

  ***

  Trag tasted like hot, molten sex--the tang of his blood, the salty flavor of his sweat--and as Micayla inhaled the pleasing aroma of his skin, she was sure he'd knock her on her ass, but he didn't. Against all odds, he began purring.

  The vibrations seemed to settle into her chest as she licked the wound she'd made, and suddenly, she didn't just want to bite him and lick him, she wanted to devour him... pull him in and make him part of her.

  Trag pushed her against the stone wall of the corridor, his eyes glowing like green embers. Licking his lips, he leaned in slowly and kissed her, but unlike the other times with other men, Micayla actually felt pleased by it and growled her approval. Desire washed over her like a tsunami. Her nipples tingled as they hardened against his chest, and as his tongue delved into her mouth, instead of feeling invaded she reveled in it; he was hot and delicious and sent flames racing through her body. The more she inhaled his scent and felt the vibrations of his purr, the more aware she became of the place between her thighs--a place that had previously felt empty and barren. As his kiss deepened, her clitoris tightened painfully and her vaginal mucosa began to swell and moisten, aching with a need too fierce and overwhelming to be denied. Suddenly, she felt his erection pressing into her stomach, a pressure that filled her with passion and made her long to rip off his clothing with her teeth, baring his body for her to feast upon. She'd already seen his cock. Now she knew what she wanted to do with it.

  I want to suck it. The words were not spoken aloud but pounded in her head, urging her into action. She tore her lips away from Trag's and was about to sink to her knees to kiss his thick penis when a voice called out, "Hey, don't stop on my account. This is fabulous!"

  Trag caught the expression of speechless horror on her face just as Micayla spun away from him and sprinted off down the corridor to disappear around the next corner.

  "Way to go, Trag!" Dragus said gleefully. "She's just as hot as the Terrans!"

  "I'm gonna kill you, Dragus," Trag snarled, "and then I'm gonna rip you limb from limb and roast you over an open fire. Very slowly."

  "Ha!" Dragus laughed, clearly not the slightest bit worried. "Want me to catch her for you?"

  "Yeah, like you could really do that," Trag scoffed. "I'm not even sure I could catch her now..."

  "Just watch me," Dragus said, tapping the comstone on his breastplate. "Hartak," he said pleasantly, "bring Micayla back here, will you please?"

  Trag waited for a moment and then heard a distant scuffle and a muffled scream, followed by Micayla shouting, "Put me down, you big snake!"

  Moments later, Hartak appeared, carrying a kicking, cursing Micayla, his tail sweeping back and forth across the stone flags as he swaggered toward them. "Been called a lot of things in my day, but never a snake," Hartak commented. "Where do you want her?"

  Without a moment's hesitation Trag held out his arms. "Right here."

  Chapter 14

  Never before had Micayla felt such an onslaught of emotions. She was angry, embarrassed, terrified, and turned on--all at the same time--and to top it all off, she'd just been captured by a dinosaur.

  "You really need to learn to hold on to your woman, Trag," Hartak advised as he placed her in Trag's waiting arms. "She'll get all wilted from the heat if you keep letting her run off like that."

  "Thanks," Trag said sardonically. "I'll try to keep that in mind."

  Putting her arms around his neck, Micayla clung to Trag a little tighter than she needed to, her face buried in his hair. She felt like an absolute idiot for running and was trembling uncontrollably--though whether from fear or passion, she couldn't tell--but Trag obviously felt it too, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze.

  "Of course, if you two would just quit scaring her to death..."

  "Sorry, Micayla," Dragus said with an apologetic smile. "Me and Hartak, well, we just love Terrans, and you're real pretty too. We've been begging Kyra to see if she could get more Terran women to come here--"

  "Some that like lizards!" Hartak said eagerly.

  "But she won't do it."

  "Why am I not surprised?" Trag muttered. "Listen, guys, why don't you two run along and guard the palace? I think she'll be okay now."

  "You're sure you won't need us?" Dragus said helpfully. "We could stand guard while you--"

  "Dragus," Trag said in a dangerous voice. "Get lost."

  "What? Lost? In our own--oh, I get it."

  "Then do it," Trag said firmly. " Now."

  "No need to get all huffy about it, Slave Boy," Dragus said. "We're leaving."

  "Call us if you need us!" Hartak said cheerfully.

  Micayla bit her lip as the humor of her predicament suddenly struck her and her body shook with suppressed mirth.

  Trag held her tighter. "Hey, don't cry, Mick," he said soothingly. "The big, bad Darconians are gone now."

  Silent giggles gave way to howls of laughter as Trag looked down at her with surprise. "Oh, my God, that was funny! You--a former slave in this palace!--ordering those big guys around like a couple of pups!"

  The sound--and feel--of Trag's laughter as he held her against his chest warmed her to her toes. "Yeah. Times have changed." Sighing deeply, he said, "Now, where were we?"

  "Um, I believe we were kissing each other."

  "You didn't mind that, did you?" Trag asked cautiously.

  "No," she said simply. "Not at all."

  "Think you could bite me again?"

  "You actually liked that?"

  "My dear Mick," he said with fervor. "You have no idea."

  "To tell the truth, I've wanted to do that for a while now," she said candidly, "but I didn't think you'd like it, so I've been trying not to."
r />   His purring began again, making his voice deep and rough. "You can bite me anytime you like, Mick."

  "What about our pact?"

  "What pact?"

  "The no-sex pact."

  "Oh, yeah. That pact," he said. "Stupid idea, wasn't it?"

  "Regretted it almost immediately," she agreed. "Don't know why, but--"

  "What do you say we go somewhere and discuss it?"

  "Where did you have in mind?"

  Not bothering to set her down, Trag started walking. "Someplace private, where we can talk and not be disturbed."

  "Sounds wonderful," she admitted.

  "You're sure about this?"

  Sighing, she said, "I think I was sure the moment I laid eyes on you; I just didn't realize it. But talking to Leroy helped."

  "Oh, and what pearls of wisdom did Leroy have to share with you?"

  "He said that the way I felt toward men was normal for a Zetithian woman. I've never felt normal in my whole life! It made a big difference."

  Trag nodded. "So that's what you were talking about! I wondered. I guess that makes two of us who didn't know what we were doing. I never knew being hissed at was a good thing until Cat told me."

  "Think we'd have ever figured it out on our own?"

  "No clue," he said. "But I guess that's what friends are for."

  "We need to be sure and thank them."

  "Later," Trag said. "How far do you want to go?"

  She certainly hadn't wanted to stop until they'd been interrupted. God only knew what the two guards would have seen if they'd happened upon them a few moments later. "All the way, I suppose," she replied. "Or do you think we should wait?"

  Trag grinned but shook his head. "That's not what I meant, but I'm glad to hear it anyway. No, what I meant was, do you want to stay here or go on to your quarters?"

  "Oh," she said, glancing up at the open doorway they were approaching. "Is this your room?"

  "Uh-huh," he replied. "I'm sharing it with Leroy."

  "Well, at least it's not Rodan," she said thankfully. "Can we lock the door?"

  "We can bar it if you like, but if I know Hartak and Dragus, I doubt we'll need to. Hartak used to be Kyra's guard, remember?"

  "Yes, but--"

  "I'd bet money they'll both be back just as soon as this door closes and, trust me, Leroy won't get past them."

  The thought of doing anything intimate while two huge lizards were listening didn't appeal to Micayla in the slightest. "I don't think I can..."

  "Kyra didn't either," Trag said. "You'll get used to it."

  "Look, maybe we shouldn't jump into this," she began. "I really--"

  Trag set her on her feet in one swift motion. "You can stay or you can go, Mick. It's your choice. I'm not going to beg, coerce, or badger another woman ever again."

  "I'm not Kyra," she reminded him. "I'm not in love with your brother or anyone else."

  "And you aren't in love with me either."

  "What do you mean?"

  "This is just physical attraction," he said miserably. "It's got nothing to do with love."

  Micayla closed her eyes and exhaled sharply. She was right back where she started. The only difference was that now she knew what if felt like to want a man--a real live man who wasn't part of a fantasy.

  "Go on and leave if you want," he said. "But either way, I've got to get out of these pants. My dick is killing me."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah, but once you're gone, I won't be able to smell you and it'll go away." Spearing his fingers through his hair, he muttered, "Story of my whole fuckin' life."

  "What do you mean, it'll go away?"

  Trag laughed mirthlessly. "Didn't know that either, did you? Zetithian men can't get it up without the scent of a woman's desire. You have to smell right or it just won't work."

  Glancing down at his groin, she said, "I guess that means I smell okay then?"

  "Ty once told me that Kyra smelled even better than Zetithian women--"

  "And--?"

  His gaze met hers and held it for a long moment before he spoke. "He was wrong about that."

  Micayla was having a hard time processing the meaning of it all. "So you're saying it's all just chemistry? Receptors and pheromones that trigger emotional and physiological responses?"

  Trag winced. "Sounds even worse when you put it that way, doesn't it?"

  "Sorry," she said wearily. "I've never been much of a romantic, but I'm trying to understand. I've been... well, I don't know what I've been, but I'm so tired of not feeling anything and wondering why I don't. But I really felt something with you--and I liked it." Studying his face, she realized that wasn't the only thing she liked. "I like you too," she went on. "Maybe I didn't at first, but I do now."

  "I've had it in my head for so long that if I couldn't have Kyra, I didn't want anybody--and then when you hissed at me, it just made it that much easier not to like you, but I do. That sounds really stupid, doesn't it?"

  "No it doesn't," Micayla replied, shaking her head. "I've spent most of my life trying to avoid men." She felt her eyes stinging with unwanted tears. "It wasn't so much that I didn't like them as it was that I didn't feel anything for them--and I wanted to, I really did!--and I tried, but I just couldn't do it! Then you--all I had to do was look at you and I felt more than I ever had before. Granted, it didn't seem like such a good thing at the time, but today they were all telling me how incredible you guys were, and then Kyra was talking like you were maybe not as good as the others, and I just couldn't sit there and let her do it. Maybe she didn't mean it that way, but it sure seemed like it."

  "What about you, Mick?" he asked gently. "Do you think I'm not as good as the others?"

  "I have no way of knowing that for sure," she admitted. "But no, I don't--and I really did enjoy kissing you."

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he seemed to relax slightly. "I may not have to kill Dragus after all," he said. "If he hadn't interrupted us, I might never have heard you say that."

  Micayla smiled back at him. "So what do we do now?"

  "Still your choice, Mick," he said, moving further into the room. "You do what you want."

  "And what you want doesn't count?"

  "Oh, it counts all right," he said. "And I think I made my wishes perfectly clear."

  Micayla stood at the threshold of more than just a room where a man was waiting for her answer. It was a turning point, and once she crossed over, there was no going back.

  She looked at him as though seeing him for the first time. He was lean and muscular with eyes that burned like a green flame and his hair hung in thick, shining spirals, just waiting for her fingers to delve into it. In her eyes, the only thing wrong with him was that he was still dressed. Her mouth watered at the thought of tasting him again and without another moment's hesitation, she entered the room and closed the door behind her.

  Her back was toward him as she slid the bolt into place, but she knew precisely when he began purring. "Do you have any idea what that does to me?" she asked, still facing the door.

  "No," he purred. "Tell me."

  "It makes me hungry," she replied. "Hungry for you." Licking her lips, she began to move toward him but hesitated.

  "Do it again, Mick," he pleaded. "Bite me."

  "I don't like the idea of hurting you," she whispered. "But I can't help myself."

  "Then don't try," he urged. "I like it. It's... exciting."

  She stared at the place where she'd bitten him before and saw that, though it should have been open and bleeding, the wound had already healed and was nearly invisible. "Wonder why--"

  Groaning, he pulled her to him. "Come on, Mick," he growled. "Just do it. Bite me."

  Licking him first, she tasted the salt of his sweat and was instantly lost, biting down hard, breaking the skin and then licking the wound.

  "Mmm... That makes me want to fuck."

  "Then do it."

  "I will."

  Micayla managed to keep
from using her teeth to get him out of what little he had on, but even so, she ripped the fabric as she pushed him down on the bed. "I want to devour you," she growled. "All of you."

  "Kiss me again," he said thickly. "I need to taste..."

  I'm going mad, Micayla thought wildly . I can't stop... Her tongue slid into his mouth and though her eyes were closed, shimmering lights seemed to dance in front of them. His flavor reached her on a deep, primal level--setting off instinctive behaviors she didn't know she possessed--and she knew she could never get enough of it. Trailing wet kisses down his neck to his chest, she teased his nipples with the tip of her tongue and then suckled them.

  Trag growled deep in his throat as his cock pulsed, sending rivers of viscous fluid pouring from the serrated edge of the head. He took her hand and placed it there. "Touch me."

  It was thick and hot and slick and Micayla let out a long moan as she grasped his stiff cock and teased the coronal ruffle with her fingertips. Micayla had never seen an erect Zetithian penis before, but it didn't come as a shock. In fact, it seemed more normal to her than the phallus of human males--as though the shape was one that she recognized instinctively. Through the haze of her desire, she vaguely remembered that there was something special about that fluid, but it didn't matter. She would find out soon enough, and the discovery would be all the sweeter.

  Trag gasped as Micayla tightened her fingers around his shaft and slid them to the base. Combined with the exquisite torture of her tongue on his nipple, it was almost too much for him to bear. "Oh, Mick, don't... you'll make me come too soon. I--I can't hold on much longer."

  His eyes were blurry and unfocused as he flipped her over onto her back, the inferno she lit inside blinding him to everything but the deep, fiery glow of her eyes. The pain in his cock was growing with each beat of his heart, but as he pushed aside her clothing, he discovered her soft, wet entrance, and once he slid inside, he found sweet relief. She was unbelievably wet and her succulent core held his cock in a firm hug as he penetrated her. Plunging in, he took her--nothing fancy, just slowly at first, then harder, faster, deeper. She was screaming his name--did she want him to stop or keep going? He didn't know, and driven mad by her scent, he didn't care. With all his strength, he drove into her, unable to hold back.