by Meg Ripley
Tyrok started toward the hill, his jaw set with determination.
"You thought that Star Lords were fairy tales so you probably didn't know that our ships are not the same as others."
"What do you mean?"
"My ship carries extraordinary power. It literally has within it the ability to extinguish the actual stars just as quickly as I created the little ones in your bedroom. Without the stars, everything in this universe will die."
"I still don't understand."
By this point they were cresting the hill and Tyrok was staring down at the crashed ship. Alexis followed his gaze and gasped. Ahead of them the ship looked nearly perfect, the warped, twisted mass of metal now a sleek, shimmering ship.
"Thank god it's still here," he muttered. "The creature inside that ship, the one that was controlling me, has been repairing it since the day of the crash. It knows that if it can get the ship operational again, it will have the ability to control the universe."
"But if it could do that on its own, why was it controlling you?"
"I know how to operate the ship and as long as it was controlling me, it was also controlling my capabilities. We have to stop it before it figures out how to operate the ship."
"How are we going to do that?" Alexis asked, struggling to keep up with him as he ran down the side of the hill and pushed toward the ship.
"We have to kill it."
"You don't have any weapons," Alexis said, pointing out that Tyrok had run from the house in only his pants and shoes.
"I don't need weapons. When I said that without the stars everything in the universe would die, that wasn't completely correct. Everything but those creatures. They detest sunlight and will die if exposed to it for more than a few seconds. To them, even the tiniest of stars is just a sun waiting to happen."
Alexis suddenly remembered the tentacle slithering out of the wrecked ship and then recoiling quickly into the darkness.
"How are we going to get it outside?" she asked.
"I'm going to lure it."
"No!" she protested, "It has already had control over you before. I'm not going to let that happen again. I'm going in."
"No, you aren't," he said, trying to pull her back.
"It is my sworn duty as the medic of this mission to protect everyone within the colony, and for the last week and a half now, that includes you."
"You would protect anyone in the colony this way?" he asked uncertainly.
Alexis stood on her toes to kiss him.
"Absolutely not." She took a breath and started for the repair ship door, pausing most of the way there to toss the messenger pad from her wrist back to Tyrok, "If anything happens, call my father. His name is James."
She turned back to the ship and approached the door. Her hand trembled as she rested it on the lever to the door and pushed it open. The door slid toward her a few inches and Alexis leaned forward to check inside. Everything was calm and quiet so she took a step forward. Suddenly she heard a screeching sound from within the ship and felt something thick and strong wrap around her waist. She screamed as the black tentacle dragged her inside. Behind her, Tyrok was shouting her name.
Alexis thrashed against the tentacle, pushing down on it as hard as she could trying to free herself from its grasp. It dragged her down the main hallway, slamming her against the walls as it slithered across the floor. She managed to catch herself on a metal guide bar on one wall, slowing the tentacle enough that she could hear the faint sound of her father's voice coming into the ship.
A moment later the tentacle yanked her forward again, painfully pulling her away from the bar. It was dragging her toward the emergency control room where she found Tyrok and she felt terror building in her stomach as she thought of what it may have planned for her. Suddenly she saw a flash of movement beside her and heard a screech as the tentacle tightened around her to the point that she couldn't breathe.
Darkness was building around her and she turned her head to see Tyrok digging a large spade into the tentacle. A look of fury on his face, he withdrew the tool and slammed it back down into the creature. Alexis could hear James shouting in the background and just as everything went completely dark, her body slipped from the tentacle's grip and crumpled to the cold metal floor.
****
"Come on, Alexis. Open your eyes."
She heard Tyrok's voice whispering to her as if it was coming through water toward her. It waivered slightly and she felt the soft, soothing touch of his hand brushing her cheek. She wanted to respond to him but it felt like her own voice was out of her reach.
"Listen to me," he whispered again, "Focus on my voice and come back to me."
Alexis fought against the sinking feeling that kept her away from Tyrok and felt the fog lifting. She turned her head slowly from side to side and heard a murmur escape her lips.
"Tyrok," she whispered, finally able to find her voice.
Her eyes fluttered open and Tyrok's beautiful face, worry etched into the gorgeous features, came gradually into focus. He leaned down and kissed her gently. The touch of his lips broke through the fog and she lifted her head to press harder into his kiss. Tyrok tucked his hand beneath her head to support it and deepened the kiss, opening his mouth over hers and dipping his tongue inside.
Alexis welcomed the kiss, looping her arm around his neck to give herself leverage so she could crush her body against his. He groaned into her mouth and pulled her up further. She complied with his strength, allowing him to lead her so that she knelt in the middle of the bed, him mirroring her position in front of her so that their bodies touched from their knees to their chests.
Not breaking their kiss, Alexis smoothed her hands down over Tyrok's shoulders. She reveled in the feeling of his warm skin and strong, hard muscles beneath her palms. He returned her touch, slipping his hands beneath her shirt and pulling it up, taking his mouth from hers only long enough to remove it and toss it aside. She hadn't put her bra back on before they returned to the ship and when she tucked back into his arms her nipples grazed his chest.
Alexis whimpered at the sensation that shot through her stomach and into the apex of her thighs. Seeming to take her sound as an invitation, Tyrok steadied himself with his hands on her hips and ducked his head down to capture one of her hard peaks between his teeth. He bit just hard enough to create a tiny, pleasurable shock of pain, then followed the bite with the soothing coil of his tongue around her nipple.
Her hand came to the back of his head to hold him in place, but Tyrok seemed to have other plans. He pulled his mouth away from her breast, moved it to the other one to flick his tongue quickly across that nipple, and then touched it to her stomach. Alexis arched back to offer him better access to her skin and closed her eyes to savor the delicious feeling of him kissing and licking his way slowly toward the button on the front of her pants.
By the time the tip of his tongue slipped beneath her waistband to tease the curve of her hipbone, Alexis was panting and gripping his shoulders for stability. Tyrok straightened back up on his knees and pulled her closer. She felt the pressure of his erection pushing into her belly and bit her lip, her hips making tiny, involuntary movements against his. He kissed her deeply, drawing her bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it softly. Finally he brought his mouth to her ear.
"Now?" he whispered and Alexis remembered how she had stopped him the last time they were in her bed together.
Unable to speak over her labored breath, Alexis nodded. Tyrok wrapped an arm around her hips and swept her off of her knees, lowering her down onto her back on the mattress. He stretched his body along hers and she parted her thighs, drawing her knees up beside his hips so he could settle closer against her. Slowing their pace, he rocked his hips against hers and kissed her languidly. She tilted her face up to him to offer her mouth completely and felt his hand slip between them again to release the button on her pants and draw the zipper down.
A moment later she was naked before him again, but this time h
er shyness was overshadowed by her intense desire for him. Sitting back on his knees, Tyrok unfastened his own pants and pushed them off so that they finally had nothing between them. Still moving slowly, he slid back on the bed so he could lower his mouth between her legs.
Alexis cried out as his tongue swept across her, focusing in on the taut, swollen spot he had teased with his fingers before. He paused briefly as if to let her calm down, then continued, using just the tip of his tongue to trace circles through her folds and coax her toward the edge. His hands went beneath her hips, filling with her flesh as he tilted her pelvis up against his mouth. She writhed on the bed, mewling sounds tumbling from between her lips as he continued his blissful torment.
His masterful licks had brought her right to the edge and when his tongue delved inside her, the sensations crashed together in a dizzying, all-consuming climax. She was still riding the waves of tremors that rippled through her body when he moved up and the hard, thick length of his shaft replaced his tongue. He entered her in one smooth movement and her hips lifted to meet him.
Tyrok groaned as he filled her and began moving his hips in long, deep strokes. Alexis gasped at the feeling of him gliding against her and lifted her head to catch his mouth in a kiss. His pace quickened and his thrusts became more urgent. Each hard, intense stroke brought a cry from her lips and Alexis parted her thighs further to accept more of the sensation. Deep, animal grunts poured from his throat as he drove himself into her again and again, his eyes staring into hers. As she gazed at him she realized that what she thought were shimmering blue streaks were actually shooting stars suspended across the honey-colored background.
Her body contracted around him again, the rapid spasms of her muscles milking him until his head fell back and he roared. She could feel him spilling into her, pulsing in time with her tremors. As his muscles relaxed, Tyrok lowered himself down onto her, tucking his sweaty head into the dip between her shoulder and neck. He kissed her gently, his panting breaths rippling across her skin as they both cooled and calmed.
Alexis smiled and let her eyes drift closed. She would ask about the ship tomorrow. For now, all that mattered was the stunning man in her arms and his heartbeat against her chest. She knew that from that moment on she had one less thing to miss about home.
********
If you enjoyed reading this story, I’d be so appreciative if you could please leave a review. Even just a sentence or two would be a great help!
Thanks so much for your support!
xo – Meg
~BONUS COLLECTION~
Cosmic Passions
Cosmic Passions
An Alien Romance Collection
Chosen Alien Bride
My Encounter With A Sweet Alien
Chosen Alien Gene: Joran’s Quest
Captured By Two Aliens
---Red Lily Publishing---
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Cosmic Passions
Table of Contents
Chosen Alien Bride
My Encounter With A Sweet Alien
Chosen Alien Gene: Joran’s Quest
Captured By Two Aliens
Chosen Alien Bride
“Didn't your mother ever teach you it's not polite to touch things without permission?” Charlotte chastised the man whose drink had nearly landed in his lap. It would've served him right, too, given that the precariously perched drink nearly toppled from her tray when he tried to squeeze Charlotte's ass as she leaned over to place the drinks on the table. She glared down at the offender, who returned a look of semi-inebriated chagrin.
Ugh, I already feel like I need a shower, she thought.
She was supposed to be off this evening, but she'd naively accepted the shift for a coworker who claimed she had an important family function.
“Family function, my ass,” Charlotte muttered to herself. By now, she was quite certain that Alison had simply been aware of the guests who would be occupying the sports bar tonight: a bachelor party! If they wanted to spend the evening in a drunken stupor, grabbing at every woman within arms' reach, then Charlotte had no problem with that. But, they really should have moved their party to a more fitting venue—like a strip club or a brothel! But maybe that was the problem; perhaps the groom had blown all his money on the wedding and had none left to enjoy his last night of single-hood with a bang. Charlotte smiled at the pun.
If he'd only budgeted more wisely, the table full of overgrown little boys could be enjoying all the tits and asses they could afford and Charlotte, who had opted for a job where her clothes remained on, could finish out her evening without fingerprints covering every inch of her uniform. It didn't help that the owner's idea of a “uniform” was a skirt that resembled something a school girl would wear, along with a tight, button-up, white blouse. Yeah, like those weren't designed to provide the bar's patrons with walking fantasies, she thought dryly.
Charlotte moved on from the table, grateful that the night was nearly over. “Just one more hour and I'm out of here,” she comforted herself. She moved around the room, checking to see if customers needed refills or another order of wings, and then headed back to the kitchen to hand over two more orders for the evening. She could survey the bar from her position just outside the kitchen. It was the part of her job that she loved; watching people come and go, seeing the play of expression on their faces, guessing why they're celebrating or drowning their sorrows in drink. While she was in the crowd, she couldn't see what was going on around her, but from here, it was the ultimate improv—reality TV at its best. It wasn't that she was a nosy person—it wasn't any of her business what was really going on in her customers' conversations—Charlotte was just fascinated with people.
She'd grown up as an only child, with two professional parents who spent a great deal of their time working. When she was young, it wasn't uncommon for Charlotte to wind up eating dinner with the babysitter, and then once she was old enough to care for herself, eating entirely alone. She used to eat in front of the television; not to keep up with her favorite sitcom or drama, but to watch the news. It made her feel better to know that the people on the television were actually out there somewhere. When her parents passed away in a plane crash just after her seventeenth birthday, Charlotte waited for something to be different. They had gone away for an anniversary vacation and on the day they were expected home, they never arrived. It wasn't until Charlotte was dining that evening in front of the television that she saw coverage of the crash on the news.
Day after day, she continued with her usual routine. She didn't miss her mother tucking her in at night—her mom never did that. She didn't miss tossing a ball around with her dad—he didn't have time for that. In the day
s, weeks and months following her parents' deaths, she made her own food, stayed on top of her own homework and tucked herself in at night—just like she always had.
Charlotte shook her head to dispel the sad reverie, and as her mind cleared, she noticed a new figure sitting in the darkened area of the bar. It wasn't odd to have new customers, and he probably wouldn't have caught her attention if he hadn't been staring back at her with a piercing gaze that she swore he was using to try to see into her soul.
She was accustomed to her fair share of ogling; at five foot, eight inches with a model's figure, attention from men, and even a few women, was an everyday occurrence. Her flaxen hair shimmered even in the poor lighting of the bar, and her big, stormy blue eyes captured almost as much attention as her long, slender legs and full breasts.
Even when she met the stranger's gaze, he didn't turn away, and the combination of a thrill and a chill ran down her spine. She knew she should be wary of the stranger; blatant attention like that was often a warning sign that the creep might be waiting outside after work. But for some inexplicable reason, she wasn't scared. And then, seemingly of their own volition, her legs began to propel her forward, moving her slowly toward the table where the stranger sat, still staring. She didn't know why she couldn't help herself—a tiny warning bell should have been going off in her head by now. But, she just kept moving until she stood directly in front of him.
“Hi there. Is there anything I can get for you this evening?” At least as a waitress, even if the guy turned out to be just another creep, her approach wouldn't strike him as odd or inviting. She was just doing her job.