by Trina Novak
“It’s a romax,” Zarak explained. “One of Azakia’s finest delicacies.”
“It’s mouthwatering,” I said, letting the romax rest on my bottom lip. Then I gave it a tiny lick, and saw Zarak’s jaw clench. “So sweet.”
“Yes, very sweet,” he replied, his voice husky.
I was thoroughly enjoying the effect I was having on him. As I continued to lick and nibble at the romax, Zarak bit his lip and he gripped the sides of his chair so hard his knuckles turned white.
“Here, have another,” he said, reaching across the table and placing a romax in my open palm. For just a moment, he let his fingers trail over my skin as he looked me deep in the eyes.
“I meant to say, Zarak,” Keptin interjected, “you really have an excellent command of the English language. I’m most impressed. The language barrier can sometimes be a problem in my line of work, but—”
“I’m fluent in five hundred languages,” Zarak said. He watched as I continued to suck on the romax.
“That’s very impressive,” I said. “Most people only bother to learn their native tongue.”
“Oh, I’m still very, very skilled with my native tongue,” Zarak replied, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he gave me a sly smile.
Damn. Holy hot damn. Could this man get any hotter?
“As a Celestial Mates agent, I have to know all of the languages. Which is no easy task, believe me,” Keptin said.
“Mmm-hmm,” Zarak mumbled, clearly not paying one bit of attention to Keptin. His eyes were intensely fixed on my mouth. I put the romax between my lips once again and Zarak took in a sharp breath.
“You must be tired from your trip,” he offered, and I knew exactly what he was getting at.
“You know, I really am,” I said. “I think I’d like to lay down for a while.”
“Yes,” Zarak growled. “We really should get you to into bed.”
Definitely. As soon as possible.
“Goodness, yes,” Keptin exclaimed as he hopped down from his chair. “I’m sure you must be exhausted.”
“Getting into bed is all I can think about,” I said. “I’d like to do that right now.”
Zarak smiled. “I’ll escort you to your quarters.”
“Yes, that would be nice of you, Zarak. Thank you. I wouldn’t want to get lost in this palatial compound.”
“In that case, I will bid you farewell,” Keptin said. “I’ll be in touch soon. Cassandra, I hope your time on Azakia is enjoyable.”
And then Keptin was gone, popped into some other dimension, and Zarak and I were alone.
Chapter Twelve
I wanted to run to him at that very moment, but there were windows everywhere, and outside I could see Azakians milling about, going on with their days. Not the best idea, probably.
“I’m not really tired,” I told Zarak. “Not at all.”
He raised one very sexy eyebrow. “I know.”
“So... should we...” My voice trailed off. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure what to say, what to do. I had major jitters. My body buzzed with nervous excitement, and my mind felt scrambled, unable to form any meaningful thoughts.
Zarak, however, took initiative immediately.
“Follow me,” he said, rising from the table and holding out his hand to help me up. I stood, gripping his palm, and then we made a beeline for the door.
He hustled me through the sprawling courtyard, and for a maddening minute we were stopped by two Azakians who were lounging by a large silver tree. Zarak spoke to them in a language I didn’t understand, and then they turned to me and said hello. They spoke again briefly in their native tongue – which of course reminded me of Zarak’s earlier comment about his skillful tongue, and I felt my face get hot.
Finally, we extricated ourselves from the conversation and continued through the courtyard to the guest quarters. We encountered more Azakians, gawking at me, a human in their midst. It was so strange that every Azakian I encountered looked so incredibly different from Zarak – they were all smaller, less substantial somehow. But then again, he did say that he was adopted. A few more people tried to speak to us, but Zarak waved them off with a few quick words in his language.
“Everyone wants to fucking talk to us,” he growled, the frustration clear in his voice.
Another large copper door. Then we stepped into the long corridor that led to my room. When the door slammed behind us, Zarak put his hand on the small of my back and began to walk faster. I picked up my pace. The hallway felt a mile long. We couldn’t get to the room fast enough.
Zarak’s hand grasped the doorknob. The large copper plank swung out. I stepped over the threshold, and the moment I set foot inside the room, Zarak grabbed me around the waist. In one swift motion, he shut the door, spun me around, pushed his body against mine and pinned me against the wall.
Then his mouth found mine, his lips strong and warm as he kissed me. Finally.
And this wasn’t just any kiss. It was a kiss that blew my hair back, that made my entire body buzz and shake and go hot in an instant. Sometimes, a first kiss can be awkward, tentative, as two mouths learn each other for the first time. But there was nothing awkward – and definitely nothing tentative – about the way Zarak kissed me. He took my face in his hands and kissed me like it was the thing we were born to do, and as our tongues met, our lips fitting together like perfect puzzle pieces, our passion for each other became like a physical force.
I pushed my body against his, desperate to feel every inch of his body against mine. Our breath came in heavy sighs. I felt light, like I was floating above the air, my rational brain seemingly detached from my body, only able think one word, over and over again like a refrain:
Yes, yes, yes.
Was there ever a more perfect kiss? I couldn’t imagine it. I’d thought of this kiss, dreamed of this kiss, since the first time I laid eyes on Zarak. I’d wondered if the kiss would be frenzied, or rough, or gentle, or soft, or...
Yes, yes, yes.
It was all of those things and more.
I don’t know how long we kissed. Time seemed to evaporate around us. All I know is that at some point my mouth slid away from his. He lunged at me, pulled my lip between his one more time, and then opened his eyes to look at me.
“Take off your clothes,” he said. “I want to worship you.”
My hands shook as I unbuttoned my blouse, my fingers fumbling, trying to unhook the pearl buttons. Zarak stood and watched, his green eyes fixed on me. A button popped off and rolled across the floor; I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything in that moment except for Zarak. He was all that mattered: his eyes, his lips, his hands.
My blouse came off and fluttered to the floor. My bra, pale pink and lacy, came off next. Zarak took in a breath, and I smiled. Strangely, I felt not one iota of self-consciousness in front of him. I didn’t worry whether or not he liked what he saw; it was apparent in his eyes.
Before I had time to slip off my skirt he came to me, and his mouth found my neck. Goosebumps erupted on my skin as his lips planted strong kisses on my breasts, his warm tongue sliding over my nipple.
Then, in one swift motion, he kneeled down and slid his hands under my skirt. I felt his fingers grab my underwear and pull them down, then his hands moved back up, along my calves and over my thighs.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said.
“Aren’t you going to get undressed too?” I asked as I kicked my underwear out from under my feet.
“I told you, Cassandra,” he said as he slipped off my skirt. Still kneeling on the floor in front of me, Zarak looked up at me and bit his lip. “I want to worship you. And that’s what I’m going to do.”
He kissed me from my feet to my forehead, stopping along the way to tease and nibble, sending flutters of warm delight swirling through my body. Then he picked me up in his arms and carried me to the large bed in the corner of the room, the one hung from the ceiling by ropes. He deposited me in the center, then began once again the long, la
nguorous process of kissing up my entire body.
I felt like I might go out of my mind. All my nerves were alive and buzzing, and every kiss he planted on my bare skin sent a new and more powerful shockwave through me. Again my mind began its silent reverie, all thoughts blanked out except for one:
Yes, yes, yes.
Then his mouth moved over my belly to my sex – his breath warm, his lips impossibly soft, his tongue like a magic wand coaxing me further and further into ecstasy. I gasped, arching my back, and felt the bed begin to slowly swing back and forth. My thighs shook on either side of his head, and I involuntarily gripped the sheets with my fingers.
Zarak brought me higher and higher, expertly knowing exactly when to go slow, when to go fast. It was like he knew every inch of me, knew exactly what I needed. We communicated in gasps and moans, words completely unnecessary.
And just when I thought I might break into a million pieces, Zarak slid a finger deep inside me, his tongue like a wave, undulating, making my entire body vibrate.
Yes, yes, yes.
I lost control of myself, panting, writhing in ecstasy. The bed swung back and forth as I came, my thighs squeezed tight against Zarak’s head. The world around me turned silver and gold, all glittery and warm and pulsating with light and color.
Slowly, ever so slowly, my orgasm stilled, receding like a wave. My thighs stopped shaking. Sounds returned to me: I could hear Zarak’s heavy breathing, and I could feel my pulse thrumming wildly in my body.
He planted one last kiss on my inner thigh and looked up at me.
“I could do that to you every day,” he said with a sigh.
“I wouldn’t mind that at all,” I said.
Chapter Thirteen
Zarak wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the night exploring every inch of Cassandra’s body. He wanted to learn exactly how it worked: what made her sigh, what made her gasp, what made her moan, what made her legs shake violently, her voice going deep and guttural. But there would be time for that – at least he hoped there would be time.
As he laid with her, feeling her heartbeat return to normal, listening to her labored breathing became more measured and even, he felt for the first time that he was exactly where we was meant to be. He wanted to lay with her, to perhaps sleep for a while and then start again. He wanted to talk, to fuck, to eat, to laugh. He wanted to do it all with Cassandra. But they still had to be careful. Though a spark of a plan was forming in his mind – a plan that would let them both explore each other and be together with no consequences – the plan was not whole yet. So for the time being, they had to be careful. They had to keep what they had together a precious secret.
Unfortunately, that meant that he couldn’t spend hours enjoying her body without interruption.
They had to put on a false face for the world. They had to pretend.
And though it hurt him to his core to think about having to pretend that this amazing woman meant nothing to him, he knew that was exactly what he had to do. And he would do it. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for Cassandra. Once he had tasted her, felt her soft body against his, he knew that there was no turning back.
With great reluctance, Zarak extricated himself from the tangle of limbs they had formed together on the bed, and looked at Cassandra.
“I wish we could continue this,” he said, “but we should we would should probably make an appearance for dinner. I know we just had a meal not long ago, but Rollox – he always eats. Soon, though, it will be the formal Azakian mealtime, and it would be strange if we were both absent.”
“Oh, man,” Cassandra said, her face still flushed with pleasure. “I can’t believe I have to be around people now. I feel so thoroughly fucked. I mean, not fucked, as in, you know – though we absolutely need to do that later—”
“Absolutely,” Zarak said. “There’s nothing else I’d rather do.” He’d loved bringing Cassandra to such heights of pleasure, and he’d loved getting to taste her, to worship her just a bit – but of course he wanted more.
“But still, do I look...” Casandra cocked her head to the side and gave him a painfully adorable look. “Do I look like I just had an orgasm? Because I feel like it’s written all over my face. And by the way, Zarak, that was the best... the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Which is maybe why I think everyone on the planet will know as soon as they look at me.”
“You look gorgeous,” he said, sweeping her blonde hair back over her neck. “Cassandra, you are incredibly, incredibly beautiful. And everyone will see that, yes. It’s impossible, I think, for anyone to not see that. That’s all you need to concern yourself with.”
“You make me blush,” she said, touching her hand to her face.
“I want to make you do all sorts of things,” he replied.
“I want to make you do all sorts of things,” she said, tugging at the waistband of his pants.
If only they had time, Zarak thought. But there would be plenty of time, he reminded himself. And waiting, prolonging the inevitable, was fun, in a strange way. With every moment he spent with Cassandra, he just wanted her more. And when he could finally have her – all of her – he knew it would be incredible. So why not make them both wait a bit? It wasn’t that he wanted to tease her. Definitely not. But he wanted to savor her, to ease in slowly, to appreciate every moment.
“Soon,” he said, “so soon. But we really should go now.”
Her brow crinkled, and she sighed in the most exasperated way, and it took incredible restraint for Zarak not to throw her back down on the bed and take her that very instant.
He had to remind himself of the English expression he’d learned so long ago: Good things come to those who wait.
It hurt Zarak, almost physically, to watch Cassandra cover her beautiful body with clothes. But then again: what amazing clothes. He sat at the foot of the bed as she rummaged through her suitcase, then selected a gauzy, lilac-colored dress that hugged her body in the most amazing way.
“Do I look presentable?” she asked, running her fingers through her long curls.
“You look like a goddess,” he told her, and he meant it.
One day soon, he would rip that dress off of her.
He kept his hand on the small of her back until they reached the end of the long hallway, and once they reached the dining pavilion, with the hordes of Azakians milling about, he let his hand fall away.
Mealtime would be difficult, he knew. Luckily, Rollox was not in attendance, likely offended by Cassandra’s willful refusal to bend to his whims. He was, most likely, gorging on zonberries in the privacy of his own chambers, foolishly assuming that if he continued to ignore Cassandra and treat her like a lesser being, she would eventually decide to have his baby.
Zarak discovered that his appetite was voracious, and every time he looked at Cassandra he felt the urge to shovel another large serving of food into his mouth.
“Zarak seems to have worked up quite an appetite,” Cassandra teased, directing her comment to the Azakian cadet that was seated next to her. She threw a teasing glance his way, then spoke again. “I wonder what he’s been up to this afternoon.”
“Commander Zarak is always doing something important,” the cadet said, clearly trying to make a good impression and gain favor. “I have no doubt that he was working very hard this afternoon.”
“I was,” Zarak replied, raising his eyebrows at Cassandra. “I was working very, very hard this afternoon.”
“But was it important work?” she asked, giving him a sweet smile.
He enjoyed this game they were playing. It would do, until he could strip off her clothes again. “Yes,” he said, “it was very important work. And very, very enjoyable.”
“That’s good,” she replied, wrapping her lips around a romax. “Maybe you should keep doing it. The important and enjoyable work, that is.”
Oh, what he wanted to do to her. He could’ve climbed over the table, taken her then, right on top of the food. “I intend to,” he said.
“As soon as possible.”
“I’m sure you’ve very good at the work you do. Don’t you all think so?” She turned her head to look at the others seated around the table, and they all nodded in assent. “Yeah, I bet the work you do is very... satisfying. Will you be working again tomorrow?”
Oh, that look she gave him. He could hardly contain himself. “Most definitely,” he said.
“Speaking of work...” the cadet seated next to Cassandra said. And then he launched into an incredibly boring monologue about actual work, and Zarak watched as Cassandra tried to stifle her laughter. She made polite small talk with the man and pretended to seem interested in the intricacies of low-level military bureaucracy, then every so often she would steal a glance at Zarak, her eyes full of mischief.
He couldn’t imagine sitting through another dinner without her.
It had happened so fast that it made his head spin. But it had happened. He was utterly and completely enthralled by her.
After dinner, it was hard for Zarak to extricate Cassandra from the room. The Azakians were so excited about having a human from Earth in their midst that they fell over themselves asking her questions about her planet, her culture. Cassandra, as he expected, was incredibly gracious to all of them, taking time to answer their questions, showing them images on the small portable holophone she’d brought with her. He’d hoped that he could get her alone again, but it seemed that was proving difficult.
Then, just as the herd of eager Azakians was beginning to thin, Rollox entered the room. His shirt was stained and his bird’s nest of hair was a mess. Why would he not even bother to make himself presentable before seeing Cassandra?
But he barely even looked at Cassandra, oddly enough. He came straight to Zarak, his lips pursed in determination.
“Zarak,” he grumbled, “you need to secure this human female for me.”
“What do you mean by that?” Zarak asked.
“I mean that I need you to do something, whatever. Talk to her. Convince her. Tell her she has to do it. Write her a letter and sign my name at the bottom. It seems she wants some sort of romantic courting before she’ll get pregnant. And I don’t have time for this nonsense.”