Challa

by Linda Mooney

  Shifting his weight slightly, Compton stared down at the silky skin between her legs, and the cleft of her inner lips lying beneath his erection. One move, one quick wiggle, and he knew he would sink inside her, and those lips would wrap around his quivering shaft like a velvet casing. He blinked.

  “You’re…”

  He lowered a hand between them to make sure he wasn’t imagining the fact that she shaved. He’d read about women who did that. He’d heard other guys talk about how baby soft skin was. But he had never dreamed he would encounter someone who actually did it.

  He touched her, letting his fingertips stroke her bare mound. Challa gasped softly.

  “That feels so good.”

  He glanced back into her face and her half-closed eyes. She was enjoying his caresses as much as he loved touching her.

  “You feel incredible,” he murmured.

  Challa jiggled her hips. Her breasts swayed with the movement, drawing his eyes down to the scarlet tips. He started to lean down to lick them when he felt the head of his erection slip inside her hot, wet heat, and the sensation nearly drove him insane.

  There was no chance to think about the next step. Or what he had to do. Or what he needed to do. There was no chance to savor the sheer slippery perfection of pressing into her tight channel and burrowing himself inside. Instinct drove him to dive deeply into her body, forcing himself past nerve endings that were awakening for the first time and firing under his invasion.

  Challa shrieked softly and lifted her knees. The action gave him easier access to her innermost depths, and Compton withdrew slightly to slam back inside her, this time harder and deeper. His scarred penis reacted to Challa’s warmth, and his body’s reaction stunned him. Before he was aware of what he was doing, his hips were seesawing up and down like a pumpjack. Every time he withdrew, he rammed back inside with increasing ferocity.

  This is so fucking unbelievable!

  Her arms went under his arms and around his back. Her fingers clutched muscles that years of training had turned into steel. He tried to keep most of his weight on his arms and elbows, but he knew she was supporting him without complaint. Burying his nose in her wealth of hair, Compton let go, and nature took over.

  He rode her, pumping relentlessly inside her as his dick seemed to expand even thicker with every thrust. Challa wrapped herself around him physically and emotionally, taking him as deeply as possible. She convulsed, and the pressure around his shaft tightened to the point where Compton could no longer control himself.

  Heat, pressure, and her unbelievably silken wetness did him in. Compton yelled as he came inside her, and the release was mind-blowing.

  His hips continued to jerk, riding out his orgasm as his body tried to absorb her into his bloodstream. Challa started to make a high-pitched keening sound inside her throat. In the next instant her whole body went rigid. She threw back her head as she shuddered. Her nails sank into his back, and Compton felt his dick being clamped into a vise.

  He was trapped inside her, unable to move or think.

  It was perfect.

  And it was only their first time.

  Chapter 17

  Blood Line

  The fireplace crackled. Compton stirred and started to roll over to check to see if it needed his attention. Challa reached for him as she felt his warmth leave her.

  “No.”

  “Hey. It’s my back to the fire. I have enough burns as it is. Hold on.” He chuckled and looked to see if he’d remembered to put the screen up. He had, although he had no immediate memory of putting it up. Hell, he had no memory of the past hour other than what had happened between them.

  Satisfied all was well, he rolled back over and gathered her back against his chest.

  “Something is jabbing me,” she whispered.

  “Huh?”

  He propped himself up on one arm and looked down. Somehow they had turned themselves around on the rag rug, and it was the foot of his prosthesis that was toeing her in the small of her back.

  “What time is it?” she murmured sleepily.

  By the glowing hands on his watch, he could see it was just after two in the morning. The fire was dying, and the room was steadily getting colder. Not to mention the fact that the floor was not the most comfortable place to spend the night. Although Compton had slept under worse conditions during the time he was enlisted, it didn’t mean he had to now. Especially with Challa in his arms.

  “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

  Challa started to rise with him, but stopped. Compton gave her a questioning look.

  “I have to change,” she whispered.

  “Change what?”

  “Change…me.”

  Before he could ask what she meant, her human side slowly dissolved, and her alien persona emerged. He was surprised to see how her facial features remained the same while her hair appeared to flow back into her scalp and her skin took on darker hues. Compton watched in silent awe at the transformation. Once she was finished, Challa sniffed.

  “It doesn’t bother you.” She said it as a flat statement, not as a question. Then she sniffed again. The sound of it made him smile.

  “Okay, I give. What do you smell?”

  In the faint light being thrown off by the fire, she appeared less green, and more brown and black. Her eyes were wide and glittering. The swirl of purplish specks reminded him of water balls filled with fake snow. Reaching over, he touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers, and the most incredible feeling of caring rolled through him.

  “God, I love you.”

  Challa smiled. “I know. You smell like love.”

  “Really?”

  The fire popped again. Compton reached for his prosthesis and began attaching it. Once he was finished, he got to his feet and helped Challa up. He noticed she kept glancing down at her arm.

  “What’s the matter? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “No.” When she didn’t elaborate further, he led her into the back bedroom where he slept. Light from the security lamp he’d installed near the house was streaming through the window. Challa threw back the bedcovers and climbed in. “Oooh, it’s cooooold.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you warm.” He chuckled, and saw her glance again at her arm. Instead of asking, he took her wrist and looked at it himself, but the skin was unblemished. “Why do you keep looking at your arm?”

  She shrugged and gave him a wistful smile. “I want to see if I’ve changed.”

  Laughing, he drew his arms around her and brought her hairless head to rest on his shoulder. She was right; the sheets were like ice. He chose to ignore the fact that he still had his fake leg on. It was very late…or very early, depending on one’s point of view. Nevertheless, he wasn’t about to waste any time messing with it again. “All right. I’m totally in the dark here. Change how this time? Into a human? Or an alien again?”

  “Into a woman.”

  Her remark surprised him and reminded him of what had happened between them. She was a woman now. And that meant he was a man.

  He couldn’t stop the shit-eating grin he wore at the thought.

  “Compton?”

  “Yeah, honey.”

  “What happens tomorrow? Are you really going to take me to the authorities?” Her voice sounded drowsy. He could relate. His body felt as if he’d taken some of those muscle relaxants the doctors had prescribed for him.

  “Yeah. Tomorrow I’ll take you over to the sheriff’s office. I mean, today. Later.”

  She raised her head to look at him. Her feeling of panic was like little sparks going off around them. “What? You meant it?”

  He shushed her to ease her fear. “Don’t worry. I told you, I witnessed the whole thing. I’ll tell Sheriff Barstow it was clearly a case of self-defense. He’ll ask you a few questions, but I’m pretty sure he won’t charge you.”

  “I can’t go to jail, Compton. I can’t.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Even if you do, it’ll only be fo
r a few hours. If I have to, I’ll find a way to post your bail.”

  “No,” Challa insisted, rising up on one arm and giving his shoulders a little shake with her free hand. “It’s too much like when I was a prisoner, Compton. Please don’t make me go there. I don’t care if it’ll only be for a few hours. I can’t…” She shook her head despondently, unable to continue.

  Compton guided her face back down to his shoulder. “Challa, you have to trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

  She tentatively sniffed then he felt her smile.

  “See? I meant it,” Compton chuckled.

  He rolled over to half-lay across her in order to give her his body warmth. Pressing his mouth to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, he let his hands roam over her body, from the back of her head down to her buttocks. He marveled at how smooth and seductive she felt. Warm. Vibrant. Her skin was softer than brushed cotton.

  His fingers grazed the little armor-like plates lapping down her spinal ridge, and she sighed contentedly. The sound made his dick jerk to attention. He started to tell her he wanted to make love to her again, but he could feel himself sliding toward oblivion.

  It didn’t matter. There would be time come the morning. In fact, they had all the time in the world. The thought made him smile against her fragrant neck. After tomorrow, once this mess was cleared up with the sheriff, he would ask Challa to marry him. And then they would have a lifetime together to explore the wonders of the universe.

  And it would all start tomorrow.

  * * * *

  “How will we know, Kreesi?”

  “By the blood line that will form here,” the elder explained. She held up her arm for them all to see. The blood line was no wider than a filament and ran from the wrist nearly to the elbow on her inner arm. “Mine is black because my mate is dead,” Kreesi explained sadly. “But when yours appears, it will glisten like the stars.”

  “What else?” Amfinn eagerly asked. “Is there anything else?”

  The oldling smiled. “Yes, but only after you have mated.”

  “Oooh, tell us, Kreesi! Tell us!” several of them cried out, but the woman adamantly refused.

  “You will learn in time. Do not ask me again. I will not tell you anything more because I do not want to spoil the surprise.”

  Challa opened her eyes to see the light from outside throwing itself across the patterned quilt. Once more she raised her arm to look at the unblemished, unlined skin. And her heart crashed to the ground.

  No blood line. There was no blood line, which meant Compton wasn’t meant to be her real life mate.

  But how was that possible? All the other signs where there! The smell, the orgasms—even the fact that he had never had sex before was almost as positive a sign as the blood line!

  She lifted her face to where she could see Compton relaxed in sleep. Her body felt replete. Her blood sang in her veins. But the blood line did not form. The ultimate proof of mating was not in her arm, and Challa was certain enough time had passed for it to appear.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and fought back the tears.

  Compton wasn’t her blood mate. Then why did she feel that he was? Why did he have that wonderfully soothing smell of oranges? Why did the touch of his hands wipe all thought out of her mind, and make her body shake?

  Why? Why can’t he be? Why isn’t he? Oh, Kreesi! What I wouldn’t give for you to be here to tell me!

  Unfortunately, Kreesi had died a few hours before landing on this world. Challa remembered Jebaral giving them the good news that a suitable planet had been found that could sustain them, and that they would be landing at their new home shortly. The oldling had smiled, gave everyone her blessing, and slipped into a sleep from which she never awakened.

  Kreesi had been the closest thing to a mother Challa had ever known. At the oldling’s passing, Challa had mourned deeply and in private. Even now, years later, the memory of the old woman’s kindness and caring tore through her heart.

  And now, with the knowledge that Compton was not meant to be her life mate, Challa felt her heart shredding in grief.

  Rising up into a sitting position, Challa stared out at the road that wound its way from the house to the little highway that led into town. She wanted to get up and run. The urge was a steady pounding in her skull, keeping pace with the beat of her heart.

  She could run…but where to? Back to the carnival? Or to another town?

  Could she leave Compton behind when even now her body yearned to feel him digging himself back into her until they reached that moment of sun-bright perfection again?

  What to do? What to do?

  Burying her face in her hands, Challa allowed herself to weep. She was in love with Compton. There was no doubt in her mind. All of what she felt and he felt was true. He had to be her blood mate…

  …with the exception of…

  A sudden idea burst into her mind, making her freeze at the possibility. What if there was no blood line because Compton was human? Because he wasn’t Ruinos?

  Then how do I explain the other signs that are there? Why would he have a scent? Why would I have an orgasm? Why would he be able to have his first orgasm, too?

  Why isn’t there a blood line?

  Because he’s not your blood mate, a tiny voice burred in her ear. The voice sounded just like one of the Arra, raking through her mind like claws over soft tissue.

  Challa sobbed as fresh tears rolled down her face. In the morning Compton would take her to their law officers, and they would determine what punishment she would face for cutting off that man’s hand.

  But until then, she had a few more hours left to share with Compton. To lie beside him,enveloped in his warmth. To be able to touch him and exchange a few more kisses come the morning. And maybe, maybe, make love one final time.

  She reached down between her legs and touched the evidence, the wetness and slight soreness. Yes, at least once more. They had to, because she had every belief that once he took her away from this haven, she would never be able to be with him again.

  Chapter 18

  Separation

  Soft kisses tickled her neck. A warm breath brushed over her skin, and Compton licked her collarbone.

  “Sweet Jesus, you even taste like honeysuckle!”

  At some point during the night she had cried herself to sleep, and slept soundly until he awakened her. Opening her eyes, Challa saw his ear and the back of his head as he continued to work his mouth over her.

  Her body responded to his gentleness. Her breasts came alive, and she started to ask him to cradle them when his hand moved on its own to cup her. Calloused fingers tweaked her nipple, and her need blossomed aching and wet between her legs.

  “Mmm. I can’t believe how great you smell.”

  He kneed her legs apart and fitted himself snugly against her mound. When he rubbed the head of his engorged member between her inner lips, the rough, scarred skin seared her clits. Challa clutched him with razored talons and shoved her abdomen against his groin. She tried to call out his name, but her brain blanked out as he continued to tease her with his hand, his mouth, and his erection. Nudging her entrance, but not yet penetrating. Teasing, whetting her appetite and his with love play.

  His tongue, rough and wet, circled underneath her chin. “Watch those hands, honey.”

  “Sorry.” She wasn’t used to making love, much less having this kind of contact with another person. Especially as her true self. Challa glanced down at him. “Want me to be human again?”

  “Please?”

  It wasn’t her Ruinos self he was afraid of. It was her sharp blades, and what she might accidentally do in the throes of sex.

  Outside the sun was just starting to break above the trees. Challa changed as she felt her skin beginning to tighten, molding itself into permanent shape as the sun’s rays locked her into her human form for the day.

  Compton tugged lightly on her hair, drawing her attention back to him. His eyes were fill
ed with passion. And love. There was no way she could mistake the love.

  “Make me a man again, Challa,” he whispered in a voice as sinfully sexy as the acts he was performing on her.

  Rather than answer, she reached for his buttocks and pressed down. Compton sank deep into her with one thrust. The sensation of being suddenly and totally filled left her gasping for breath. But when he began to pull out of her, she struggled to have him back inside. She had to have him pressing as deeply and as far into her as was humanly possible. Scraping over her fragile inner tissue with his erection that was as rough as having sandpaper shoved within her weeping channel.

  Compton pumped her again, moaning her name like a prayer. He shifted his position slightly then rolled onto his back, dragging her almost effortlessly with him, until Challa found herself on top and lying against his strong chest and flat belly.

  “Sit up,” he ordered softly.

  She tried. By the heavens above, she tried, but the heavy pole rammed inside her was doing wonderful and wicked things to her. It was turning her mind to mush, and making her body burn out of control. Instinctively, she placed her hands against his ribs and lifted herself just enough to where his erection was partway out. Compton immediately countered with a thrust of his hips, and her body jerked with the invasion.

  “T’kor!”

  “Ride me, Challa,” he almost growled. His hands were on her thighs, lifting her then thrusting her back down over him. She lost all sense of the present as every cell in her body focused on their joining. On the hot joy they were sharing that made their bodies shimmer with perspiration. On the perfection of making love.

  He continued to guide her, pushing himself upward as he pulled her down. Shoving himself over and over into her with faster and more frantic intensity. Challa could feel her peak growing, rising, brightening like a giant white star, until it slammed into her without warning.

  She screamed, but Compton continued to work her. He was grunting now with every thrust, and groaned when her contractions nearly squeezed the blood from his dick. Challa had no recollection of how long he powered into her until his body went rigid and he threw his head back with a howl. He shuddered under her, and she could feel his seed squirting inside her, hot and thick.