by Shona Husk
Her tongue traced her lower lip as if she were swiping away a drop of beer. Her wrists were exposed to him in an obvious display of desire for her species, but he didn’t need any of that to know she wanted him. Fragments of her thoughts skimmed over him and warmed his blood. He didn’t know exactly what she was thinking but he got a good impression. His cock was already hard. Which was nothing new around Silva.
Should he ask her name and then go through the motions of being glad to see her, or would that just make this more awkward? They would have to reminisce, and their parting had been tainted. They’d argued. The lust they’d been holding on to had needed to be expressed and anger had been the only way. He remembered pushing her against a wall when she’d tried to strike him, pinning her there as she’d snarled at him and he’d growled at her.
They’d been so close, their bodies touching and his suit not hiding his arousal from her. That was when he’d almost kissed her. He hadn’t, instead he’d released her and spun away. He’d made a point of avoiding her and then he was posted off her ship and onto the next one. Her absence had left a black hole where his heart had been. The one woman he wanted was out of reach. Gone. And he knew he’d screwed it up. He should have kissed her, taken her against the wall and then faced the resulting court martial.
Just sitting here she had the power to twist him up, make him want her and hate her and love her. She didn’t know the cloud she’d cast over him. The turbulence she’d caused in his life. How he wanted to dive back in even if the currents tore him apart.
Filid drained the last of his drink. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” She swallowed the last mouthful of beer and stood. “I’m guessing you don’t have a room.”
“Neither do you. Short stay?” Some of the rooms were let by the tric for this purpose. Cheap and basic, but still with all the essentials. Decadent Moon catered for all tastes and price ranges. He suspected they made a lot of chits from their short-stay rooms.
“Sounds good.” She picked up her small bag and then led the way. Just like old times. She led and he followed. Only this time she wasn’t weighed down with guns and Scale body armor.
Her hips still swayed when she walked, an enticing movement that drew many a male’s gaze. But he knew she considered herself plain, especially when compared to some of the exotic aliens one could see both in the APM and on stations. Many classified him as one of the exotics and they’d stop and stare at his tentacles. Some of the gawkers were unaware just how much he could read of their thoughts. Some species were as transparent as his own.
To him she was exotic, golden skin, the darker tri-colored spots and the half webbing between her fingers. Then there was her hair. Soft and luxurious. In fact everything about her was soft and silken. Yet she wasn’t delicate.
He also liked the way her mind was semi-readable. While he could read fellow Klokians with ease, not all species could be read. Phrials fell somewhere in the middle. Emotions and strong thoughts were all he got from her, but he liked the mystery. He’d been with women of his own species. In theory every thought should’ve been available, but some had learned to censor their thoughts so as not to create waves. An open, honest society that spent half their time hiding what they really felt. That was why he’d left.
Censor actions to not cause harm. But a stray thought? People were entitled to think what they wanted.
Silva stopped at a kiosk and started booking a room. Before she could scan her plex and have the chits deducted from her account he stopped her and let the machine scan his.
“You didn’t have to.” But she was still happy he had, surprised and happy. There was also an undercurrent of something else. A tension. Nerves from accepting his offer to go somewhere private? Who wouldn’t be a little anxious about an interspecies fuck with a stranger.
Unless…and perhaps he was hoping too hard…it was because she knew him but wasn’t sure what to say. If so, he knew exactly how she felt.
However, they’d come this far, so nothing was the best option. What would they say now if the truth were revealed? The chits they’d just spend on the room would be wasted on talking. Now that he finally had Silva within touching distance again he wanted to do more than talk. He wasn’t going to let the chance to be with her slide past again.
“Yeah I did. APM gave me a Moon allowance so I could sleep and eat.” And get a room if he wanted to rest, although sleeping wasn’t high on his list of things to do. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair, use it to tug her close for a kiss.
“Fucking on APM chits?”
He shrugged. He hadn’t planned to, but the moment she’d walked over to him that was exactly what he’d wanted to do. Besides he could sleep back on the ship.
A plastic card dropped out of the machine with the room number stamped on it. He picked it up and glanced at her. He was so tempted to say something like I’m glad we finally get to do this. Or I’ve thought about you a lot since I last saw you. Admittedly some of those thoughts were when he was in the shower and gripping his shaft. The rest were self-recriminations for letting his anger boil over or regret for not taking the risk and kissing her six years ago.
Filid bit his tongue and said nothing. She was his for a few trics and that would have to be enough. Then she’d pilot her liner on to the next tourist stop and he’d move on to the next mission, their lives pulling them apart again.
They walked down the corridor until they reached the room. He didn’t hesitate, just swiped the card over the sensor. The door opened with a hiss. They were actually going to do this. Excitement and lust tumbled through his body. He’d have been embarrassed if there’d been another Klokian there to read his thoughts. A Klokian would’ve disapproved of such an obvious outpouring of expectation—yet also known exactly what he wanted in bed.
He let his tentacles spread out, seeking confirmation that this was definitely what she wanted. Silva’s desire was as strong as his. But he had no idea what it was she wanted him to do with her. He liked the surprise instead of the mutual knowing… It kind of took the fun out of sex knowing exactly what the other person was thinking.
She dropped her bag at the foot of the generously sized bed—generous for the two of them, but maybe not for a Helvelet, one of the largest species of alien in the Alliance—then turned to face him.
“I’m assuming your inoculations are up to date?” She raised an eyebrow. He loved that such a small line of hair could convey so much.
“Yes, you?”
She nodded. “I’m going to wash…” She gave him a lingering look that suggested he join her.
“Want company?” He didn’t really need to ask. He knew that was what she wanted.
“That would be nice.” She grinned, the one that invited trouble and had once been followed by her pulling a gun. He’d seen her in action as they’d chased down a man who’d thought to jump ship with a pile of stolen weapons. She’d been fearless.
Filid stripped off his jacket and hung it on the back of the door, then pulled off his undershirt, boots and socks.
Her red suit was thrown out of the bathroom and landed on the floor in a crumpled pile. She’d have never done that with her APM uniform. She’d been up to code all the time, never putting a foot wrong. It was one of the reasons he’d walked away. He hadn’t wanted to be the one to ruin her career.
Her underwear followed the suit onto the floor. He closed his eyes for a moment. She was naked. Once all he’d been able to do was imagine what that looked like, now he could find out. He shucked off his pants, cursed the lack of storage in the cheap room and then hung them on the back of the door with his jacket. On one wall was a display keeping track of the trics they’d rented the room for. It wasn’t long enough, but it never would be. He ignored the countdown and crossed the room to the bathroom.
It was actually more of a cubicle. A small cubicle. He’d used bigger bathrooms on APM ships. The shower and head just fit. It was not made for relaxin
g or lingering. Another reminder that this room was cheap and supposedly fast and focused.
He’d have preferred several days of slow lovemaking, but he wasn’t going to get that. Even if he had admitted to remembering her in the bar, they were both on the clock on the Moon.
Silva was already in the shower, the mix of pressurized water and air cleaning away any sweat and dirt. While nothing like having an actual water bath, it was something that you got used to in space, where water was limited. Most of the water would be treated and recycled.
Her hair was still braided. He’d always wanted to untie it and run his fingers through it, but he’d never gotten the chance. She also had hair on her mound. It was darker than her braid, short like fluff. What would that feel like against his skin? His fingers curled at the idea of cupping her and easing his fingers past the hair to find her slit. Her skin would be soft and smooth, supple. A spotted, golden delight of curves and temptation. The fantasy of having her was about to happen and all he could do was look and drink her in so he’d have something to hold on to afterward.
She glanced sideways at him and beckoned him in. Not that there was much room. The shower wasn’t made for two but he joined her anyway. The jets hit his skin like the drumming of rain. He hadn’t seen rain, much less felt it for over two years. He closed his eyes. Next time he took leave… He hadn’t taken leave in two years. The APM owed him some time off. Yet he didn’t know how he’d use it so it had always seemed like a waste.
Her fingers traced over his chest. “You really have no hair at all.”
They’d had that conversation once. One that had led to dangerous ground. But he pretended it had never happened because today they were strangers. “No need. My skin is tougher than it looks.” Most knives couldn’t cut it. However, he was sensitive to temperature fluctuations and he didn’t function well in the cold.
“Mmm. Almost…rough but,” she brushed her fingers in the opposite direction, “smooth depending on which way I run my fingers.” It was that texture that made his skin appear almost luminescent and delicate. A trick of the light, nothing more. Despite the tough nature of his hide he felt every sweep of her fingertips as they slowly moved lower.
She lowered her gaze to his cock and her fingers trailed toward his shaft. For how long had he imagined her grasping it? But she didn’t. Instead her fingers brushed softly over the hard length. She was killing him. If not for the heady, lusty thoughts she was broadcasting he’d have thought it deliberate torture.
Causing him pain wasn’t part of her thoughts, only pleasure.
He found his voice. “Let me undo your hair.”
She turned around and faced the wall. Her hair was damp and silky soft. He carefully unraveled the braid, letting it rub over his skin. He lifted it to his face and brought it to his lips the way he’d imagined doing all those years ago.
“Beautiful.” He almost added, like I’ve always thought.
“Thank you.” She turned around, her green eyes full of lust. This time their bodies were closer. Almost touching. She tilted her chin up, and her lips parted.
Filid didn’t need to read her thoughts to know what she wanted. He lowered his lips to hers, needing to taste her after all those years. One taste wouldn’t be enough. He threaded his fingers into her hair, feeling the caress of every strand. He shivered at the sensation. It was far more luxurious than he’d let himself wonder.
Her tongue darted against his lip and he opened his mouth to her. He didn’t need to say anything and neither did she as the long-suppressed hunger rose and consumed them. He tugged her closer with his other hand so he could feel her pressing against his body. He was right; her skin was soft and amazing. And every time he touched her she moaned or wriggled as if she were far more sensitive than him.
Silva’s enjoyment and desire washed over him. It was a positive feedback loop. The more excited she got, the easier it was for him to read her and the more his body responded. Her tongue darted against his. Teasing and flicking, tasting and demanding. She moaned and her hand gripped his shoulder harder. His tentacles wrapped around her wrist. He needed to feel her and keep her close if only for the next few trics. She didn’t fight them or squeak with alarm—they had freaked lovers out before who hadn’t expected them to move quite so much.
He picked her up and pushed her against the wall. This was becoming a habit. Only this time, it was how it should’ve been. Her legs wrapped around his hips so his shaft was pressed against her, then she nipped at his lip. Her free hand cupped his jaw for a moment, then slid up to caress his tentacles. The pleasurable sensation ran from his head to his cock. Tentacles were exquisitely sensitive, they had to be to pick up thoughts. Then she broke the kiss and brought one to her lips, giving it a slow lick before gently sucking it into her mouth. He felt the sweet pull through every part of his body. His cock throbbed wanting the same attention—or any attention.
A groan slipped past his lips. How in the flux did she know that trick?
Filid’s rough skin woke nerve endings Silva hadn’t known existed. His kiss, while gentle, had held all the heat she’d once seen only in his eyes. Even if he didn’t recognize her, right here, right now, he wanted her bad. That was enough. It had to be enough. And if she kept repeating that she might even believe it.
This time she was going to make sure he remembered her. She gave his tentacle a final lick and let it go. She’d read about that and had seen it in the porn but had never thought she’d get a chance to see if it actually worked. Apparently it did. She bit back the smile. Those sensitive tentacles that read minds were full of receptors and responded to all kinds of stimuli. If she’d kept going and wrapped her hand around his cock, would he have come? The idea was more exciting than it should’ve been. Later, not the first time. Would they have time for more or would they run out of trics in the room?
They could always buy more…but not enough.
He gently put her down and then dropped to his knees. “Want to know what else these tentacles are good for?” His voice was rough, as if he could barely control his desire. She’d heard him like that once before. That moment when she’d thought he was going to break the rules and kiss her would be forever etched in her mind, but she much preferred the direction today was going.
She nodded, her voice suddenly gone. Her heart was thumping in her chest like an overheated engine ready to blow. His fingers traced up her thigh and eased her legs apart a fraction. For a moment he seemed content to stroke the hair covering her mound. There wasn’t much there, her species wasn’t particularly hairy, but Filid had none. Not a strand on his perfect pale body. The curves of his muscle weren’t marred by anything. He was all streamlined white skin and he was more beautiful than she could’ve imagined. Even the curve of his cock was aesthetically pleasing.
It was as if his species had been created to look amazing but not be touched. As she ran her fingers over his tentacles she felt her skin catching. In one direction his skin was so soft, yet in the other so rough. A few tentacles wrapped around her wrist and tangled with her fingers as if involved in their own sensual dance. The roughness of his skin made it tough like armor, even though it looked translucent and delicate. A trick of the light and nothing more. No species had a tougher hide than the Klokians.
What would he feel like in her? Would the friction be pleasurable or too much? A nervous flutter spun through her stomach. What if she couldn’t handle being close to him? She took a breath and slowly released it. Then it didn’t matter. He didn’t know who she was; this was the random meeting of two strangers in need of a fuck. Nothing more. If it didn’t work then they walked away and found a species that was more compatible. Sometimes interspecies sex didn’t work out the way everyone hoped.
However that didn’t stop her from hoping it would be amazing, the way she’d always imagined. She hoped her imagination hadn’t set her up for a fall.
Filid’s finger brushed the lips of her slit, already wet and aching for him. She had to close her
eyes, even though she didn’t want to, as he found her clit and gave the hard button a delicate rub. Her heart began a rapid beat as her blood heated past what she was sure was safe levels of lust. She remembered the way he’d pressed her against the wall as they’d fought and then the almost kiss. The rolling waves of lust and frustration. She bit her lip as his finger pressed and circled her clit as if he knew exactly what she wanted. Then he eased one finger into her core.
Rough, yes, but not enough to hurt. However, she was so slick and needy she was sure it wouldn’t have mattered if he was hung like a Helvelet.
His finger slid out of her and she gasped for the loss, then his hands were on her hips and his mouth was on her clit, and one tentacle was sliding into her cunt. The thickness of a finger, longer and far more flexible, it reached places normally only touched by the cock of the most skilled of lovers. She drew in a breath as a shudder of pleasure rolled through her, weakening her knees. Her fingers dug into his skin, but it didn’t matter how hard she pressed, she wouldn’t leave a mark, wouldn’t hurt him. Not unless she pulled on one of his tentacles.
Then one tentacle circled and teased her ass. She lifted onto the balls of her feet. While they might have known each other years ago, it was too personal for today. He pulled back and instead a second tentacle slid into her core. They writhed inside her as he licked and sucked her clit. Her head tipped back against the wall. There was no time to catch her breath. Pleasure spiked and she came. Hard. Her body jerked as if it weren’t her own. Her core gripped the tentacles inside her, the roughness of his skin made nerve endings spark as if she needed to come again. Short panting breaths were all she could manage, but they didn’t give her enough air.
She was aware of Filid standing up, of his body moving against hers as he picked her up. She’d expected him to have her against the wall, wanted him to take her against the wall, but he carried her out of the bathroom and placed her gently on the bed. Her skin was still wet, they’d wreck the sheets. Silva opened her eyes to say something and stopped.