by Aubrey Cara
I bristle at that. “I’m going against everything I know to listen to my spirit. For you. It may be new, but I am giving you my word.” When she says nothing, I ask, “What is your spirit telling you, Bombee?”
“There is a part of me screaming this is all going too fast and is insane and scary. Then the other part of me…” She doesn’t finish her thought, instead asking, “What about after the babies? Could I go find my friends then?”
I want to know what this other part of her is saying but instead answer her question. If I have learned anything about Bombee, it is she is resolute. She has been abducted, taken to another galaxy and sold, yet she still determined to find her friends. It is one of the many things I admire about her, even as I find it frustrating. “You would be free to go…if that is your true desire. But you’d be welcome to stay.” I’d prefer nothing better than for her to choose to stay with me.
She audibly gulps, her eyes going glassy with moisture. “What about the babies?” Her voice is so small and vulnerable, it makes my chest ache. “Are you going to take my babies from me? Give me over to Bo’hob, or someone else?”
Guilt prickles over me, making my skin tight. A tear trickles down her face, and I am undone. This is not like her hizz-star-eeks. She is calm, but her heart is aching at the thought of someone taking her ling, the same way mine would.
It only took her an instant to bond to the ne’dav Nhyl gave her. I can only imagine the attachment she’ll have to my ling growing inside her. Taking them from her would destroy my little warrior, and I would rather suffer a million huzah trials, and have the flesh torn from my body than break her spirit.
I was foolish to think we could use humans as we do Gyhans. They’re too different. And the thought of passing her on to Bo’hob or Jhyr...I would destroy all before I let another rut my Bombee. I’m not sure how I ever thought I could do such a thing. I was naive. And then, when my spirit knew better, I made myself deaf to its call, but I’m listening now. It goes against everything I’ve ever known, and all Lehor culture, but I believe the ancestors have guided me to this moment. To this female.
I cup her delicate face, wiping her optical secretions away. “You are mine now, my little warrior. I wish for you stay with me and my ling.”
“Our ling.”
I swallow heavily, my throat tight. She’s said it before, but for the first time I truly understand what it will mean. “Our ling.” It’s a foreign concept. Co-parenting. I try to imagine how that will work. Who will have the last say in important decisions? It should be me, but I’ve come to realize my bynt ky’ab yhar is a most stubborn creature.
“What about my friends, Oathar? They’re just out there somewhere, and I may be their best hope at rescue. I can’t abandon them. What would you do if it were Bo’hob out there. Or Jhyr?”
“I noticed you did not offer Niin as an example.”
She scrunches her face in distaste, and I chuckle at her disdain for my intelligence officer but sigh at her scowl. I brush a strand of golden hair off her cheek, smoothing my fingers over her delicate features in contemplation. “What if I send someone out to search for them? Perhaps Bo’hob?”
Bombee’s brows pull down as she frowns up at me, searching my gaze. “Are you matchmaking?”
I fight my grin. My little warrior is too perceptive, so I play at ignorance. “I know not what this word is.”
She raises a brow at me, her lips pursed. “Sure, you don’t.”
“It would give him a purpose for a time.”
“He’s the Profound Healer. What more purpose does he need? Plus, if I’m staying here, I’d prefer the best medical professional Lehor money can buy to deliver these babies.”
I do not wish to get into my personal concerns about Bo’hob, so I concede the argument. It would be best to have Bo’hob here while she carries to monitor the ling’s development. But he wouldn’t necessarily have to be gone for more than a moon cycle at a time. “We can send out others, if you prefer, but would it be such a terrible thing if Bo’hob found your friends? Perhaps persuaded one of them to carry his ling?”
“Yeah, I know all about how you guys ‘persuade,’” she mutters.
“I can instruct whoever we sent to not rut your friends until the females understand what will happen if they do.”
She appears undecided as she shrugs a delicate shoulder. “You’re really going to send someone to find my friends?” She moves a step closer, until she’s pressed against me. Her fingers paint little circles on my chest, and my heart sings, sensing victory is near.
I trail my hands up and down her arm enjoying the smooth silky texture of her before settling with my arms around her, and nod. “If it means you stay here with me, I will send every available Alogorian on Lehor out to search the galaxy.”
“What about the Zapex?”
It reminds me I have not had word from Jhyr and Niin and wonder if they’ve reached Pacbar yet. I must message them soon. “We still do not know how much of a threat they pose. But even if we had every Alogorian planetside, it would still not be enough to defend ourselves against the Zapex. We can only keep our shields up around the planet and hope it’s enough.” I hold hope the Monrok, Lyhnx, was only trying to stir trouble, and the Zapex have no plans to take over the Jun’pn galaxy. The alternative is unthinkable.
“Oathar?” Bombee pulls me out of my thoughts by placing my hand on one of her orbs. Orbs my ling may one day suckle from. Her nee-pal is tight under my palm, I can feel it through the leather. “I’m ready for you to kiss me now.” Her voice is low and sultry.
My root swells fully to life, my pulse kicking up. “I am ready for much more than just kissing.”
I tear off the bindings over her breasts, with my need to see them pop free. Then I cut the ties of her skirt with a claw so that it falls to the floor, leaving her exposed to me.
“You have a habit of ruining my clothes.” She pouts.
“You should stop wearing them, then.”
A wicked grin pulls her lips up at the corners. “Maybe I will.” She runs her hand up my chest before pressing her hot, lush form against me. “Would you like that? Me naked and ready for you at any moment?”
The growl that rumbles through me is my only answer. It’s all I’m capable of after the picture she has painted for me. I lift her, and her legs automatically wrap around my waist. She rubs her hot cha cha against my swollen root, and I’m tempted to lay her down and rut her there. Instead, I cup her generous ass and tromp to my sleeping space.
She pulls my face down to hers to mate her mouth, and I stumble. She writhes against me. My head spins.
We make it no farther than the furs in the lounging area.
I am going to worship my female’s body.
BAMBI
I cling to Beast Boy like a monkey. The way he said I was his now, voice all smoky, gaze intense. It was a solemn vow and an aphrodisiac all rolled up into one panty-melting package. And maybe I’m gullible because I believe him. Or at least I want to.
I nip on his lower lip, sucking it into my mouth, and he stumbles. The room spins, and I’m being laid out furs with achingly gentle care.
“You are a gift from the ancestors,” he tells me. “And I will worship you as such, my bynt ky’ab yhar.”
That sounds amazing. My knees fall open like somebody let their strings loose. My hands stroke over his chiseled chest and shoulders while the bottom half of me lights up sparklers in anticipation of the real fireworks.
He kisses and licks a trail down from my neck to the taut buds of my breasts. His suction game is on point and has me writhing underneath him. I try to get his hand to take a tour down to ladytown but he’s not budging from boobville. He chuckles at my huff.
“Does your cha cha need attention that badly, my impatient little warrior?” His hand strokes up my thigh, getting teasingly close to right where I need him before trailing back to my knee.
I’m not sure when he started calling me his little warrior, but it ma
kes my heart clench every time.
He kisses down my stomach, and my breath hisses out as he teases his lips around my opening. I’m strung so tight my body bows the second his tongue flicks out and strokes over my clit. My head spins as his mouth firmly settles over my opening. He devours me with gusto, and I moan loud enough to wake the dead.
I’ve never had a guy who was so attentive to my needs. He responds to every moan and shift of my body. The result is the best cunnilingus of my life. He works my clit in strokes and flicks, and sucks me just right as he stretches me with his awesome bulb-headed fingers.
My legs shake as I cling to his ridges and crest, hips bucking. Panting for breath, I want to dissolve into a puddle, but Oathar doesn’t relent with his ministrations. I’m so oversensitive, my thighs are quivering. With a whimper, I push his head away. He relents, and I’m achingly empty when he removes his fingers, but I want to blow his mind as much as he just blew mine.
His eyes are glazed over with passion just from going down on me. It makes me want to ride him like a pony, but I have something else in mind. He looks at me questioningly as I scuttle back until his big alien cock is pointing in my face. I flick my tongue out and lick the pleated tip of him, and he jerks.
He looks down at me his eyes wide with shock. “What are you doing?”
“Testing your readiness to mate.” I throw his words back at him and give him a cheeky grin before sucking his length into my mouth. Or at least the first couple of inches. I’m so not capable of giving porn-head and have to wrap my fist around his base to make up the difference. From the way he gasps, I’m thinking he doesn’t mind.
I work my tongue over his pleats, hoping it causes the same kind of sensation humans get around the heads of their cocks. His fingers tangle and fist in my hair, and he groans low.
Oh, yeah. This is all sorts of good for my ego and turning me on all over again. I’ve never been the queen of blow jobs, but there’s something about giving Beast Boy this kind of pleasure that trips all kinds of happy triggers in me. My nipples are aching and my downtown is sloppy wet. When his hands tighten in my hair, I start bobbing and sucking in earnest.
When his pleats quiver in my mouth, I jerk back from freaked out instinct. I was so eager to show Oathar a good time, I forgot to contemplate what the end game would entail.
Luckily, he tumbles me to my back so I don’t have to worry about getting hit in the eye by egg-laden alien spunk.
He spreads my legs even wider as he settles over me and impales me inch by maddeningly slow inch. The stretch is immense, but I struggle to hold still and not thrust my hips up to force him deeper.
Giving in, I arch my back and lift my hips. “Faster,” I demand.
He holds me in place, every muscles in his neck and arms strain. His jaw is tight. He shakes his head. “I will twine too soon.”
Finally seated inside me, he props up on one elbow and stares down at me like a savage pirate who’s just found the sacred treasure. He traces a finger over my lips. “I did not know a mouth could bring such pleasure,” he says, his voice full of wonder. “No wonder the human population is so great.”
He leans his head down to kiss and nibble along my jaw. I tilt my head to the side as he works his way down my neck. “Do you have any more human mating customs we should explore?”
My mind fills with a Kama Sutra worth of dirty positions, and I give him a wicked grin. “How much time you got?”
“For you, my bynt, I would give all my time.”
My heart trips a beat before speeding. “Well then,” I cup his jaw and bring his lips back to mine. “Let the lessons begin.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Earth Girl’s Guide to Surviving an Alien Abduction
Tip #84
Whatever you do, do NOT fall in love with your alien captor.
#Dick2Bomb #CataclysmCockBeCray
#GirlsBeTrippin
BAMBI
Oathar has the stamina of a gold medal Olympian. If anyone was giving out medals for sexing up my body, he’d be on the podium getting decorated like Michael Phelps. For three days, we’ve been humping like bunnies in between breaks for sleeping and eating. None of my sexual relationships, casual or serious, compare to how awesome sex with my big strapping alien boyfriend is.
Although, we learned the hard way there are some sexual positions you do not want to get locked when your partner has built in bondage vines that retract at their own pace.
That. Was. Awkward.
My thigh cramps up a little just thinking about it.
At some point, we moved to the bedroom, which is at the back of a long hallway with windows high up on one wall. He’s kept me busy enough that I haven’t really seen much of his place. ’Cause we’ve been boning. For three days.
I think I must have slipped into a post cataclysm cock coma for a while there. Sleep hasn’t been plentiful. At least not in long stretches. I’m not sure if it’s the baby-making hormones or what, but I’ve never been so horned up in my life. And Oathar doesn’t seem to have any issues with rolling out the egg launcher for some loving. He’s awakened me for nooky nook as many, if not more, times than I’ve woken him up. And what a way to wake. I smile and sigh wistfully, just thinking about it.
I stretch, and my body screams in protest. I could use an aspirin and good soak in some Epson salts-infused water. That’s the thing with marathon sex—you’ve got to work up to that stuff. I’m, “I-did-three-spin-classes-in-a-row-followed-by-Pilates” sore. Ms. Wong, my childhood dance instructor, was right. It’s so important to stretch and warm up. And to stay hydrated. My mouth is about as dry as the desert outside.
I stare up at the adobe ceiling and gaze around the sparse room. An intricately woven tapestry with designs on it reminding me of a Persian rug hangs over one high window. I know it’s daytime from the square of light filtering through the center like a fabric stained glass window.
It’s times like these in the quiet, alone with my thoughts, that fear and uncertainty poke at me. Nowhere in my five-year career and life plan did I figure in getting abducted by aliens or having babies, alien or otherwise. And my parents...are they searching for me?
I’m ashamed to admit it had been months since I last spoke to my mom before I began this reluctant space adventure. After I went away to college freshman year, our text and phone calls became few and far between. I never went “home” for the summer. My mother moved so often and was gone so much, the concept of “home” is laughable.
I usually stayed with friends, visited my dad for a day or two, and let him foot the bill for my summer rentals. Thinking of the cushy lifestyle I’ve led, I feel pathetic pouting about the lack of parental stability in my life, but there’s nothing like an alien abduction to make you reflect on your life. Choices you’ve made. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time I saw my mother. Was it Christmas? No, she went to Boca with some friends. And by friends, I mean some guy.
Thinking of how often my mom blew me off for her romantic flings makes my belly squirm in unease. Is that what I’m doing with Oathar? I mean, how quick is too quick when it comes to love? Is all the warm squishy feeling Beast Boy evokes, love?
I try to think about the depth of emotion I experienced with other boyfriends. I’ve always managed to keep most guys at arm’s length. None of them really managed to inspire more than a warm bath of emotional depth in me. I had a pretty strict three-month rule, and breaking up was always easy to do.
A week with Oathar and I’m so twisted up in feels, just thinking about leaving him guts me. And that freaks me out. Those are the things that make me wonder if I’m like my mom. In turn, those thoughts make my heart speed like a car on the track, pushing faster and faster. I’m afraid hitting one tiny bit of gravel will careen me out of control.
I glance over at Oathar’s sleeping form and snort. He’s not exactly who I pictured ending up with. The scales, for one, were never something I’d desire on a guy. Yet, just looking at him makes a sensation of ri
ghtness spread through my veins. It’s a lot like how I feel when I see Brook and Bri. Safe and settled. I always imagined that’s how a real home would feel like. But with Beast Boy it’s so much more. When he looks at me, it’s like going from freezing cold to stepping out into the sunshine.
A chirping sound almost like twitter notifications teases my consciousness a few times before I become fully aware of the sound. I raise my head and scan the room. Then shake Oathar’s shoulder. It takes me a few tries to rouse him, which scares me. It reminds me how close he came to dying.
His head lolls before his eyelids crack open, a confused frown on his face.
I lean over him and plant a kiss on his lips. “Hey, wakey, wakey, Sleeping Beauty. There’s a strange chirping sound.”
He runs a hand over his eyes. He seem pretty groggy and out of it. I don’t think Oathar is as healed as he should be, and hope he hasn’t been overexerting himself. His big hands stroke down my back and cup my ass before he lifts me off him and sits up. “Hmm. That is a transmission.”
“Like on a car?”
“What’s a ghar?”
“Never mind, what’s a transmission?”
“It’s a message on the hologram transmitter.”
I wonder if it’s from Niin. I kind of hope it is. I know Oathar sent him and Jhyr a message two days ago, but hasn’t heard from them,, and I think he’s starting to become worried. And I kind of figure if Beast Boy is worried, we should all be.
He flings aside the furs exposing Fluffy, who has been curled up at our feet. The chubby bunny of a snake hisses in protest and scuttles down under the furs. Oathar walks across the room and opens a cabinet built into the stone walls of his place, to reveal a long, thin panel on the wall. It’s like a flat screen TV, but is narrow as a remote. He presses a blinking light on the panel. The chirping stops, and Norik, the foreman from the mines, appears. I scramble to cover myself,.