He found my clitoris by accident, sending a jolt through my entire body. He was startled at first, but then he smiled down at me as he saw how I responded when he rubbed that tiny, sensitive kernel. He focused the attention of one hand on my clit, while the other continued its explorations. He settled, finally, on sliding two of his fingers deep inside of me, working me, in and out as he had with his cock.
He pulled away suddenly, and just as I was about to protest, I felt his cock fill me again. I grinned — he had more stamina than any man I’d been with — and arched my back to press my breasts against his chest as he pounded into me. Then I caught his mouth with mine in a kiss, and he froze, curious, as my tongue flicked playfully at the tip of his. He mimicked my motion, then broke away and smiled down at me. It was a beautiful sight, that smile: I think maybe he was what men saw when they first began to paint angels and gods. I slid my hands over him, marveling at how rough that beautiful skin was, at how strange the collections of scales felt beneath my fingertips. My hands came to rest on the curve of his ass and I pressed him into me, trying to assert my opinion about the rhythm. He obeyed my hands, slowing down to give me long, deep strokes, until my breaths were coming in fervent pants.
I felt my orgasm begin to build at my very core, felt the tension well between my thighs and spread out to my entire body. I felt like a tightly coiled spring, until he stroked into me a final time, and I snapped, the tension draining from my body as the muscles inside of me clamped down around his shaft.
It wasn’t long before he reached his climax once more, filling me with the evidence of his desire. He rolled off of me and collapsed beside me, his chest heaving with every breath. We rolled over onto our sides so that we were facing one another, and he was peering at me like I was the most incredible thing he’d ever seen. I grinned as he lifted a hand to brush his fingers over my cheek. “Vaenn,” he said. “Vaenn, Novalyn.” And I knew that word. It meant “beautiful.”
CHAPTER 7: ODRIK
The waning of the winternight brought with it a resurgence of my lady’s desires; my own seemed to be a bottomless well. The slightest shift in her position as she slept made me grow hard with my wanting, but after she batted me away, I knew I had to let her rest. In the morning, however, it was she who roused me with her fingers curled around the base of my shaft, tugging me to my full rigidity; it was she who shrugged off our fur blankets and climbed astride me, she who directed my hardness into the slippery cleft between her thighs.
I was addicted to her, my first and only partner, and she seemed at least somewhat fond of me, and certainly an eager participant in our joining. She rode me, her hips undulating, until I felt the muscles inside of her contract with the force of her release. But even thereafter, she continued to move me in and out until I exploded inside of her, never one to leave me unsatisfied.
Our energies spent, we rose and washed, we ate cured meats, we dressed. She fastened her curls with a scrap of leather, tied the belt tight around her waist so that my black tunic became a gown, and then she pointed toward the egg that was the day’s destination.
When she set off at a hobbled pace, I grabbed her by the arm and bid her to climb on my back, which she did with some effort, huffing and puffing as she adjusted herself with her arms around my neck. I hoisted her up with my arms beneath her knees and set off at a leisurely pace, taking care to avoid the patch of rimosha which had attempted to make a feast of her a few days previous.
She hummed a pleasant tune in my ear as we walked, the starshine beating down on us. I was beginning to sweat from the heat of exertion when I spied the egg, my pace inadvertently quickening until we reached it.
This egg had landed smoothly: it was not buried half in the dirt as the dead girl’s had been, nor was it damaged and tangled in branches as Novalyn’s was. In fact, it sat high on four thin metal legs and had a ladder leaning against the side of it, and protruding from its glass top was a series of ropes, connected to a large swath of fabric.
Novalyn climbed down, careful not to land on her injured foot, and limped over to the egg. I followed close behind and watched her ascend the ladder. She rapped at the glass, trying to find a way in, but neither she nor I could see a door. She pressed her palm against it, and the entire top of the egg tilted forward, giving her enough room to duck her head and climb inside. I followed, crouching down low, and watched her sit in a white chair, a panel of blinking lights in front of her.
The space was uncomfortably crowded with both of us inside of it, but we huddled close together as we peered down at the flickering panel, all color and light. There had never been such technology on this planet before; I marveled at it, running my fingers gently over the screen.
“Welcome,” a woman’s voice said in my language. I glanced around, but saw no Qet who could have spoken to me. The blinking lights formed the runic word for Qeteshi on the panel and I was mesmerized. Magic. It seemed to me to be magic.
I heard the word repeated in Novalyn’s language, and she glanced at me, startled. The egg was speaking to both her and me in our native tongues.
“The members of the Echelon have deemed it necessary to intervene in the affairs of the Qeteshi,” the voice went on, in two disparate languages. “Their breeding patterns and death rates suggest an extinction threat in one generation.”
Novalyn was staring at me, her eyes clear with understanding. I, however, was overtaken by my confusion. What was an ‘echelon’? And how had they come to know that our women had died out?
“In the center console, you will find a pair of translation devices that you can use to better understand your new mate while they are acclimating to your presence.” Novalyn began to search the pod, opening a small compartment directly underneath the blinking panel. “These devices may be worn inconspicuously in the ear. They are not, however, a substitute for learning the native language of this planet, should it be foreign to you.”
Novalyn held two small boxes in her hand, white at the base with a clear glass top. She handed one to me and I turned it over in my hand. “On behalf of the Echelon, we thank the women of Earth for their sacrifice and sincerely hope that their presence may mean the continuation of the Qet, a once proud and populous species. End of message.”
My lady looked frantic as she opened the small box and placed the tiny device in her ear. I opened my own box and examined the object: it was very small, no larger than the smallest nail on my lady’s hand, and shaped to fit snugly in the ear. She had put hers in, and so I did the same.
For a moment, I saw her mouth moving, but did not hear her. And then, in an instant, everything changed.
“… derstand me now?” She leaned forward, just a breath away, her eyes locked on mine. “Odrik?” I swallowed hard. “Does this mean you can understand me?”
“Yes,” I breathed, shocked, jubilant. “Yes, my lady. I can understand you.”
Part Three
CHAPTER 8: NOVALYN
I gripped his hands, fierce and fervent, peering up into his eyes with a surprising desperation. My expression asked the question over and over again, even after the sound of my voice had died in the thick air between us: Can you understand me?
“Yes,” he said, his voice tremulous and electrified, “yes, my lady. I can understand you.”
It started like this: I plucked the device up out of its clear plastic container and held it gingerly between two fingers to examine it. Half the size of a dime and shaped rather like a lima bean, it was constructed of an opaque but malleable plasticine, and I slid it comfortably into the conch of my ear. For three heartbeats, everything was silence; then, his voice broke through the static. At first, I could hear him speaking in his own language, a sort of shadow beneath the sound of him translated into English. But the more he spoke, the more that faded and disappeared completely.
“This is incredible,” I breathed, and he smiled down into my face, bobbing his head in agreement. But now that we had all of our known languages at our d
isposal, neither one of us knew precisely what to say. I let go of his hands and averted my gaze, suddenly self-conscious.
“Now it will be easier for you to tell me what you want,” he all but growled, brushing his fingertips over the slope of my shoulder and around the curve of my breast. His touch sent a chill through me, but I just laughed sort of nervously and didn’t look at him. I crossed my arms in front of me and curled myself inwards and let my gaze linger anywhere other than Odrik’s face. He drew his hands away, sensing my retreat, and we were silent, wracking our brains for the right words to say to one another.
“Earth,” he said at length, turning the sound of the word over in his mouth like he was chewing something sweet. “That’s where you’re from?”
“Yes,” I confirmed, scratching absently at the back of my neck, unsure of what to do with my hands. “And I have the feeling that I’m quite a ways from home.”
“What’s it like?” he asked, shifting his bulk from one foot to the other. “This Earth of yours.”
“Well…” I was utterly unprepared to answer that question. I’d been asked what New York City was like — like being one blood cell in the center of a pulsing heart — or what it was like growing up on a farm in Nebraska — like death, but without the advantages — but never what just Earth was like. “It’s like here, in a lot of ways,” I said, “except the plant life is a lot less likely to try to eat you.”
Odrik smiled and it lit him up; I looked up at him and smiled back. “And there is more technology,” I said, gesturing absently to the console with all of its blinking lights. “And a lot more people.”
“That is what our old planet was like,” Odrik said, “or so I’m told.”
“Old planet?”
Odrik nodded, shifting awkwardly against the sides of a pod that was really much too small for him. “The Qet are not of this world. Not originally.”
“What happened?”
“As far as I know, there was an extinction-level event on our home planet, so we… relocated.” Odrik pursed his lips and arched his broad shoulders in a shrug, before turning to sidle his way out of the back of the pod. I followed close behind, hobbling awkwardly as I nursed my injury.
“What do you mean?”
“The Qet are told a tale, a myth, about the old world. Our population was once in the millions, hundreds of millions. And then there’s some story about how the Qulari received a — ”
“Qulari?”
“Our priests.”
“Ah.”
“They received a calling to bring a chosen few to the new world.” Odrik reached up to help me down from the pod, setting me gently in the tall grass before he headed toward a tree some distance off; I limped alongside him, leaning most of my weight against his strong and steady arm. “But it’s just a story. The Qeteshi leadership was always told the truth of it: that a selection of our people were relocated here once we’d gotten word of an asteroid that obliterated our home planet.”
“The Echelon,” I whispered. “They must have been the ones to relocate you. The same way they plucked me up off of my planet — they must have come in to pluck you up off of yours.”
Odrik ran his tongue over his lips, brows arched high over eyes like bottomless wells. “I suppose. It was some two hundred years ago — I know only what I was told.” We reached the tree and he fell into an easy lean against its trunk. Me, I sat on some of the gnarled roots. I peered up at him, the branches breaking the sun into graceful shafts of light.
“You know the truth of it,” I mused, “so you must be one of the leaders of your people?”
He crossed his arms over the broad expanse of his chest and narrowed his eyes as he gazed out over the plains. I followed his line of sight and marveled at the natural beauty of this strange world, a world that I was coming to learn was no kinder to these creatures, the Qet, than it had been to me.
“I was, yes,” he confirmed, his voice low and even. “But no longer.”
“Why not?” Everything I knew of Odrik spoke to his natural leadership qualities: his steady temper, his inherent goodness, his strength, his good humor. I smiled faintly, a reflection of the well of fondness that warmed me from the inside out.
“I was usurped,” he said, an edge to his usually even tone, “and when I challenged my usurper, I lost.”
“Who did — ”
“I don’t wish to discuss it,” he snapped, and the sound gave me a start. I’d never heard him be short with me before, and the severity of his tone reignited the first spark of fear I’d experienced when I had landed here, the first time I’d laid eyes on him. Something on my face must have given me away, because he looked at me and immediately softened, his entire form relaxing as he came to sit beside me on the gnarled root of a giant tree. “Forgive me,” he murmured, taking my small hand in his large one, gently stroking the skin on the back of my hand with his thumb, “it’s rather a sensitive subject.”
“It’s how you lost your horn,” I remarked quietly, careful to temper my voice. He looked up at me, slack-jawed at my having guessed it, and nodded his confirmation. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, lifting my free hand to his face and sweeping my fingertips along the slope of his jaw. He turned his face toward my hand and pressed a kiss to my palm; I felt a pulse deep in my chest, like my heart had skipped a beat; I felt a pulse between my thighs because he’d awakened something in me that I could not now put to bed.
“No matter,” he said at length. “You’re here now. Everything has changed.”
I scoffed and shook my head, not knowing what I could possibly say to him. Finally, I settled on, “I can’t stay.”
He blinked at me, as though he were trying to process what I’d said. “But you came here to help us,” he said. His eyes, like a horse’s, were wide and round and full of questions.
“Not exactly,” I muttered, dropping my hand into my lap even as I wrestled the other one free of his grip.
“To mate with us,” he went on, watching my every move. “To ensure the continuation of our species.”
“I mean, that’s why they sent me here…”
“It’s very noble of you.” He tried to catch my gaze, inclining his head toward mine so that he could look me in the eye. “You are very good and generous. Through you, the Qet will continue. You will bear our progeny, and — ”
“I won’t,” I insisted. “I didn’t come of my own free will. I was… taken. Abducted, right out of my own bed. I fell asleep at home, and the next thing I knew, I was on a spaceship orbiting this lethal planet. And now? Now I’m told that I’m some walking incubator for alien babies, and I just… I can’t.” He was staring at me, but I couldn’t look back. “Let’s go back to the pod,” I said and slid from the root to stand on my good foot.
“For what purpose?” he asked, uncoiling to his full height.
“I don’t know. To look.”
“Look for what?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Just… look.”
“If I knew your purposes — ”
“For something to help me go home,” I spat out, without thinking. It was the first time I had spoken this truth to him, at least in a manner he could understand. I couldn’t look at him, but I felt a shift in his entire demeanor. Understanding dawned on him like daylight, though he grew cold.
“Of course,” he murmured, “Of course, you want to go home. How foolish of me.” He set off at quite a clip, leaving me to hobble along behind him.
“Odrik,” I called out, but he didn’t turn. And for the first time since I met him, I was left to my own devices. I looked frantically around me and saw nothing but trees and tall grass, a mountain to the east — but was it even east? The sun rose there, but that was some other star, wasn’t it? I had no bearings, nothing at all to cling to. Except for him. “Odrik!”
But of course this entire time I’d been trying to find a way off of this planet, away from him. And now he knew it. My heart broke to thi
nk that I had broken his, so I sank down into the tall grass and buried my face in my hands. My cheeks were hot as I fought down the knot in my throat — when had I started to care so much? I took in a sharp breath of air, shook my head as though to jostle myself free of my feelings, and stood up again, shambling toward the pod once more.
By the time I reached it, he had climbed out again, a few white plastic boxes in his hands. “I don’t believe that this egg is equipped with anything that could fly you off the planet. But I found some items that may be of use.”
He opened one of the boxes and it was a basic first aid kit. Another had a collection of toiletries and a second gossamer gown. The third box had food rations and bottled water. “What about a communicator?” I asked. “To, I don’t know… hail a passing ship?”
Odrik shook his head. “You’re welcome to look for yourself,” he said, “but the language on that console isn’t one I recognize.” I didn’t have to look for myself — I believed him. I had known it was hopeless even before he and I had set off to look at the pod. At least we’d gotten our translators for our efforts. I had expected to feel my heart sink at the prospect of having to remain on this planet, but it didn’t. I had to admit, there was something appealing about it. Fine, then. The choice was out of my hands. I would just have to stay and deal with it.
Alien Prince: (Bride of Qetesh) An Alien SciFi Romance Page 27