Far away
She opened her eyes, barely any sensation left in her body.
The night sky was far above, the moon full and bight.
Gathering what little strength she had, Cynthia tried to rise, but instead only succeeded at wobbling slightly to her side.
I can’t feel a thing. Where am I? What’s happened to me?
Memories from the cave came back then, flooding her mind with a jumble of intense imagery and sensations. With them, feeling came back to her body, soon followed by intense pain. Her shoulder, knees, and back all ached horribly. Her head was no better, pulsating from both sides.
“And so, my Sleeping Beauty wakes.” The Hood’s voice dragged her attention away from her agonizing inner universe, forcing her to face the present. “How do you feel? I understand that the aftereffects of the beam are quite unpleasant for humans.”
Humans. She remembered who the Hood claimed he was, what he said that he was about to do. What came of it in the end?
Now in more control over her body, Cynthia managed to lift herself up into a sitting position. She was clothed in an oversized black jumpsuit, probably one from the Hood’s supply. He sat a mere three feet away from her, his unblinking gaze meeting her own. They appeared to have been on some sort of grassy plain, probably far away from the previous place.
“What happened back there?” she finally managed to ask, her voice coarse from the dryness of her throat.
Before saying anything, the Hood passed her a plastic bottle of clear water, which she gladly took a sizeable swig from.
“We were under attack, my dear Cynthia. My hiding place had been found, perhaps due to the extra measures I’d taken to bring you there. Or maybe due to some other oversight on my part. I can’t say for sure.”
Does he really think it might have been my fault? He doesn’t seem as angry as he should be.
“Once the main power failed I was forced to leave you in order to initiate the proper countermeasures. Sadly, the synthetics managed to get to you before I was able to shut them all down.” For a moment, his expression became serious. “Without my gear, I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to revive you from brain-death. Luckily, I’ve succeeded at that, too.” As he finished his sentence, the persistent smile he had worn for much of their first conversation overtook his face again. “Didn’t I tell you that I always aim to please?”
“What happened with the cave, then? The machines you’ve built?” she asked, the mental barriers she had raised while thinking he was insane evaporating rapidly. He was her handsome savior again, and the tingling in her loins returned, stronger than ever.
“Melted to slag,” he replied, refusing to let her see his displeasure. “I had to initiate the self-destruct sequence once I’d gotten you out of there. The same goes for our vehicle. I destroyed it some three hours ago. I’ve had to carry you for quite a long distance.”
So, let me get this straight. He lost his life’s work, probably due to me, and then he saved me again? The tingling between her legs was slowly turning into an inferno. He was still talking, but she didn’t hear any of it. The words were drowned out by her desire to have him, to be had by him.
Like a predator, she pounced on top of the Hood, knocking him down into the grass. Nothing hurt, not even her shoulder. It was all anesthetized by her arousal.
He was not talking anymore, his words muffled by the tongue Cynthia had shoved inside his mouth. Instead of words, he now communicated through very different means; his hands wrapped themselves around the protruding globes on her chest. And from between his legs, another message came. He was very aroused.
Immediately, the two started taking their clothes off frantically. The Hood was lean of waist and well-muscled, but that was all she could make out in the blur. He didn’t wait for her to get off of him so he could remove his pants—he tore them off in a single move, exposing his throbbing erection. Gleaming with juices under the light of the moon, it looked way too enticing for Cynthia to resist, now or ever.
In a posture befitting a ravenous animal, Cynthia was just about to descend on the alien’s swollen member. However, his interposing hands grabbed her by the waist before she could do so. With great force, he lifted her off the ground and tossed her into the grass on her back. A mere moment later he landed on top of her prone body, impaling her mercilessly with his gargantuan manhood.
“Oh, God Almighty!” Cynthia cried out, the shock of her insides expanding to accept such a sizeable intrusion struggling with the intense pleasure it caused. If she knew their names, she would have called out all the alien deities as well.
“See? Told you that you were a dirty girl,” the Hood spoke in her ear, slowly distancing himself from her body and pulling out in the process. Wanting more, Cynthia was just about to voice her protests when he assaulted her innards once again, burying his throbbing manhood all the way down to its base. She gasped, the whirlwind of pleasurable sensations dancing within her lower belly.
Cynthia could feel his body as he embraced her; it was lean and hard, every muscle clearly distinct from the others. He was built like a swimmer—thin, wide-shouldered, and without a trace of fat.
The entirety of her essence overtaken by an intense tingling, she rolled her eyes backwards, a pleasurable moan escaping her opened lips. Taking this a sign of approval, the Hood thrust into her again, the smile still gracing his face. Legs spread, Cynthia moaned with each and every slow thrust he delivered.
Now even more turned on, he placed his hands back on her breasts, smudging them with a bit of dirt from the grass. It didn’t bother her. In fact, in her heightened state of sensation, every little grain that rolled against her skin only served to tease her more.
“Yesss,” Cynthia slurred the word out, lost in her own little world of ecstasy. Taken by the moment himself, the Hood started pounding harder and faster, firmly holding her by her breasts. The entirety of her body shaking, Cynthia could feel the tingling that had expanded through her not so long ago ignite. She was on fire, and it felt so good.
Then, the fire turned into an explosion. Searing white and all-consuming, the climax wrapped itself around and over her consciousness, deleting everything in the process.
Cynthia Greene was no more, and neither was the Hood. They were now one, united by their passion for each other.
Epilogue
Please accept this humble payment for your contribution to the war effort.
Cynthia sat at her reading desk, going through the various papers that lay piled up on it. Most of them were checks, addressed to her or Johnny, as the Hood still insisted to be called.
He is essentially one big child, she reminded herself while still looking at the paper. An ingenious, sex god of a child who made us rich, that is.
It took a whole lot of persuasion, some of which crossed into a more unconventional territory, but Cynthia Greene had managed to persuade Johnny (he would still laugh out loud whenever anyone called him by his assumed name) to sell his inventions. He had flat-out refused to do it for a long time, but her feminine charms won out in the end.
“If we don’t have to scrounge for rat and lizard meat every day, or check the perimeter hourly, then we would have more time for each other.” That was the punch line that had finally managed to change his mind on the matter. The military asked surprisingly few questions, taking what he had to offer with open arms and giving back privilege after privilege. Money, accommodations—anything they asked for, they got. And the contract ensured that the arrangement would stand for as long as Johnny’s weapons remained in use.
Which, at the rate the war is going, will likely be a very long time.
Still, progress had been made. Cats were no longer the danger they used to be, and there was no more need to level entire cities where a good old frontal assault would do—a frontal assault made with Johnny’s instruments of war.
Their private life had become as good as it could possibly be. There was no more need for Cynthia to expose herself
to the dangers of any wasteland. Even Johnny had let go of a piece of his well-hidden bitterness, having found comfort in her arms.
And if their private life was good, their love life was even better. With no time lost on unimportant matters like their own safety, the pair engaged in acts of wild sex whenever the opportunity presented itself. Which was pretty much all the time.
Johnny’s alien libido and fortitude were so formidable that he was always up to the task, regardless of the place or circumstance. From time to time she would ask herself just how the invaders had managed to form such a perfect human disguise, yet keep a significant part of their physical superiority. Only once did she dare ask him about it, but his response was a tease like always.
“Whatever gave you the idea that my entire race shares my own degree of sexual prowess, my dear?” he said, the ego simply radiating from that grin of his.
That grin I don’t want to live without… the grin I can’t live without.
Interrupting that train of thought, the door to the room opened. Johnny came in, his face deprived of the smile she had just mused over. This did not happen often, and when it did, it always signified trouble.
Something is very wrong.
“Is anything the matter, honey?” She rose from her desk, pressing the papers with the palm of her hand so the draft doesn’t scatter them.
“Your people—I mean, the army men from up high—they want me to help them on something big.” He passed by her, stopping in front of the window.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” She approached, surprised by his attitude. No matter how pressured he felt, Johnny would never retreat from her like that. This was something new, something they hadn’t touched on yet.
“Nothing is a good thing!” He turned to face her, the anger visible in his stare.
“Aren’t the two of us a good thing?” Cynthia tried smiling a little bit to soften him up. It worked for a little bit, his frown diminishing in intensity somewhat.
“You do not understand.”
“Then make me understand, love. Let me know what troubles you and I will help you.” She paused for a little bit. “Johnny.”
He couldn’t help but laugh a little bit. Cynthia had no idea what made the moniker so funny to him, but at least she could make some use of it.
“Do you know why I was exiled, my beloved Cynthia?” he asked, the smile wiped from his face again.
“Conspiring against your superior, or that’s what you told me anyway,” Cynthia answered, raising an eyebrow.
“And I’ve told you the truth. However, as always, there are the more explicit details.” He paused for a moment again. “The exact reason for our conspiring was less than palatable. We grew tired of our commander giving privileges to his consort. From our point of view, the fleet was no longer being directed by him, but by her. She kept steering his actions to suit her own interests. Understand?”
“For the most part, yes. What I don’t understand is why that would be as important as you make it out to be.”
“It’s important because she was from Earth. Understand? All our consorts were from Earth. The commander had made a glorified concubine into our superior, only due to the fact that she was his.” The anger in Johnny’s eyes was readily visible. “Ancient tenets of our great race, cut into ribbons for no reason whatsoever! All to satisfy a woman who, for all we knew, might even have been a spy, saboteur, or something worse!”
So that’s why the women went missing. Johnny had refused to divulge such information to her before, calling it a breach of the so-called sacred tenets. I guess the tenets aren’t as sacred to him as they used to be.
“Out of sheer, unbridled hubris, our commander chose his consort over us, the greatest of his soldiers, and we wouldn’t have any of it! We decided to remove him from his position, in any way possible. When our attempt failed, we were stripped of our… privileges, and banished here to die.” His lips tightened after he finished the final statement. His gaze refused to meet her own, instead staring out the window.
“Revenge was my goal at first,” he continued. “I wanted to shoot them all out of the sky. Melt the hapless armada into nothing, all by its own tech. Now that I am close to actually getting that chance, I find it difficult to go through with it.”
He turned toward her now, his eyes gleaming with trace amounts of moisture. “First, I betrayed my lord. Then, I planned to kill everyone I’ve ever known for no reason other than revenge. Now, I get to conspire with the enemy of my birth race. Am I that much of a slime-ball, my beloved Cynthia?”
After a short pause she propelled herself toward him, embracing his lean waist with both of her arms. He squirmed around for a little bit, but she wouldn’t let go.
“You are no longer an alien invader, my love,” she spoke, gripping him as hard as she could. “Now you are my husband—the love of my life.” He stopped moving around, his expression slightly mellowed out. “The two of us, we have our own rules, our own tenets, and you didn’t betray a single one of them.”
He didn’t speak, merely staring into her eyes instead. For a little while he stood rigidly like that, as if she was embracing a broom. Then Johnny’s arms moved, wrapping gently around her waist, taking special care not to break her grip.
“Cynthia, my beloved,” he whispered in her ear. “I would never think of betraying you.”
In response, she joined her mouth with his, ending the debate with a passionate kiss.
THE END
Step Lover
Chapter One
“You know what rhymes with bugs don’t you?” Damien tugged at her pigtails as he made fun of her prominent buck teeth. “Jugs, yeah, those things you don’t have!” He laughed before staring at his friends to encourage them to laugh along with him. “Bugs has no jugs, bugs has no jugs!” Soon his friends began to join in the chorus and Caroline pressed her hands down hard over her ears.
Caroline sat bolt upright in bed, her heart pounding. She switched on the bedside lamp and leaned against the headboard. Her breath was still coming in heaves. She didn’t know why it still bothered her so much that Damien had bullied her in high school. Lately it was all she could dream about. Of course, that could be because she’d had to suffer through his presence through the entirety of last week. For whatever reason Caroline’s mother had seen something worth marrying in Damien’s father, which meant that ‘Bugs have no jugs’ was now her stepbrother.
Damien had been surprisingly polite. Of course, that could be due to the fact that the focus had been primarily on how fabulously successful he had become in the year since he had graduated high school. Yes, even Caroline’s mother couldn’t escape the shadow cast by Damien S. Odin. Surprisingly, she hadn’t seemed to mind, in fact, she almost relished the fact that all of the attention wasn’t on her. At least it mean that no one noticed the last ten pounds she hadn’t dropped for the wedding day.
In the last year since high school graduation, Caroline had spent her time volunteering. She had been told it would improve her chances at getting in to a better college and she needed all the help that she could get. Damien, on the other hand, had gone straight in to his father’s furniture business.
Not surprisingly, Damien was able to talk his way in to sale after sale with that manipulative little way he had and soon he was the top selling salesman at Odin Furniture Gallery. Damien could talk his way in to – or out of – just about anything, that much Caroline knew from experience. So many times she had tried to tell her homeroom teacher that she was being bullied by him, but every time he managed to talk his way out of it. He had been the bane of her existence throughout all four years of high school.
Caroline’s mother had met Damien’s father at their furniture gallery during her search for a new sofa. Caroline had just moved in to her apartment and to justify buying a new sofa, her mother had given her hers. On the showroom floor she had run in to Mike Odin and it wasn’t but a few months later when the two declared their intention to marry. It was at t
hat very moment that Caroline was met with the horrifying reality that Damien would be her stepbrother.
There was small comfort in the fact that Caroline no longer wore braces and that she had managed to ‘fill out’ her more feminine shape. At least, she had thought to herself, he couldn’t call her ‘bugs have no jugs’ anymore. Still, the good looking high school football player who had mercilessly picked on her for four years was now going to be a relative.
It didn’t count for much that Damien had refrained from his typical name calling during the week of the wedding. Just seeing him had stirred enough in Caroline’s psyche to let dream Damien do it for him. Each night since the wedding, Caroline had dreamed of his high school taunts. Every night she woke up, her chest heaving, her hands covering her ears. There was something about that boy that had really gotten in to her head.
Chapter Two
“Hey hon.” Caroline’s mother had a nasally voice and it sounded even more so over the telephone.
“Hey mom.”
“You sound tired, is everything okay?” Caroline had already explained her feelings about Damien to her mother a grand total of three times. Every time her mother opted to sweep it under the rug with the heartfelt words of ‘you’re family now.’
“Yeah, I haven’t been sleeping much.” Her mother sighed exasperatedly.
“You’re not still having those silly dreams about Damien are you?” She said it in an accusatory tone and Caroline almost said no.
“Yes. And they’re not silly dreams mom. He tortured me in high school.” Her mother laughed.
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. You’re family now. Plus, you know how boys can be. Besides things have changed since then. Neither of you are in high school now and just look how well he is doing at the shop!” Another jab from her mother to file under the ‘what are you doing with your life’ tab.
Married To The Cowboy (Love In Collin's Ranch 3) Page 24