Amorous Overnight

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Amorous Overnight Page 17

by Robin L. Rotham


  Shelley dropped the scissors and comb onto the couch and circled him, brushing clippings off his shoulders. Presumably the pad would consume them. “Is that what happened to your face? Someone found out about your arrangement with the minister and gave you a hard time about it?”

  “This particular male gave me a hard time long before I cohabitated with the minister,” he said lightly. “I didn’t tell you that to make you feel sorry for me. I simply wanted you to understand why I came to you instead of Jasmine.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m glad you came.”

  “As am I.” He caught her hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. “I…like you very much, Shelley.”

  Her heart did another barrel roll in her chest. The look in his serious blue eyes said so much more than like, and God knew she so much more than liked him.

  The moment stretched, and she kept waiting for him to end it. Instead, his gaze grew slumberous as he watched her.

  Suddenly breathless, she licked her dry lips and his gaze zeroed in on them.

  “I’ve never kissed a female,” he said.

  The bottom dropped out of her stomach, and the empty place between her legs set up such a clamor her knees almost buckled. “Not even the woman you did the demonstration with?”

  “She didn’t wish to kiss me. Too personal, she said.”

  “Do you wish to kiss me?”

  “I most definitely do.”

  That was all the invitation she needed. She threw her arms around his neck as he knelt up and wrapped his around her waist, and their mouths crashed together in a frenzy. His opened at once and she felt him shudder as she tried to devour him whole, sucking and biting at his luscious lips and diving between his teeth in search of his tongue.

  Holding her tight, he maneuvered until he sat with his back against the couch and Shelley straddled his lap.

  Yes! Without relinquishing his mouth, she rose on her knees and ground her crotch against the bulge of his cock. He seized the cheeks of her ass with both hands and squeezed roughly, drawing a high whine from her. Want, want, want!

  He pulled away and let his head fall back on the cushion, gasping for breath. “Fuck!”

  “God, yes, let’s do it!” Shelley dragged her open mouth down his smooth throat, unable to keep herself from lapping at his skin. “You taste so damn good,” she muttered, tearing at the tab of his suit so that she could get to more of him.

  His hands got in her way. “Shelley, we cannot.”

  She grabbed his wide wrists and pinned them against the couch, grinding her crotch against him harder. “Why not?” she demanded. “I want it, you want it.”

  “You delivered young less than half a year ago,” he gasped, thrusting up into her.

  To keep her balance, she let go of his wrists and wrapped her arms around his neck, humping him mindlessly. “So wh— Oooooh yes!”

  He’d grabbed her ass again, spreading her cheeks as he pulled her roughly up and down his cock. A prickly rush of sensation washed over her skin and then she came hard, crying out over and over with the explosive force of it.

  Before the spasms had even stilled inside her, she grabbed the tab of his suit again, panting in her determination to lay hands on that incredible monument of awesomeness between his legs. She wanted to see what she’d felt inside her for the last couple of nights.

  “Shelley, as much as I want to, I am not allowed—”

  “Hastion, hush.” She backed up far enough to pull the tab all the way down. The object of her fevered search dropped out and looked straight at her, demanding to be eaten. Growling, she shoved her mouth down over the thick, dark-pink crown. Her heartbeat thrummed madly in her ears. Need it, need it, need it, need it…

  “Holy Powers, Shelley,” he gasped, seizing her head. His legs jerked and she instinctively shifted to settle on her knees between them. “Peserin, yes! Fuck. Oh Powers, it hurts so much, I…”

  She pushed down until she gagged, and stayed there, squeezing his base with both hands while she let her throat and stomach muscles convulse. When she got lightheaded, she bobbed up with a gasp. “Jesus, you smell good!”

  Then she went right back down. She repeated the pattern over and over, until Hastion pulled at her hair.

  “Shelley, I’m never going to come that way.”

  She took it as a personal challenge. “Wanna bet?”

  Sitting up, she stretched out the waistbands of her yoga pants and underwear and plunged her hand into the embarrassment of slickness between her thighs, lubing up her fingers thoroughly. Then she reaching down into his suit and eased two into him without hesitation, knowing he’d taken the minister’s cock at least once.

  He whimpered as she probed his unexpectedly hot interior in her quest for his prostate. The Garathani typically ran about three degrees warmer than Terrans, but she hadn’t really noticed the difference until now.

  “You’ve got tiny fingers,” he groaned. “You’ll never reach it.”

  “Never is an awfully long time, Hastion.” Pulling out, she drizzled saliva onto her hand and returned with all four fingers, pushing slowly but firmly until she was almost up to her palm.

  He threw an arm over his eyes. “Holy fuck, Shelley!”

  “Hastion, relax and bear down. Now.”

  When he obeyed with another whimper, she advanced again, pushing until the cluster of knuckles at the base of her fingers slid past the resistance. Suddenly half her palm was inside him.

  Hastion slammed both hands down on the pad beside him and lifted his ass a few inches off the floor, his head arched back onto the couch, his face contorted in a grimace.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he shouted, hovering there on his hands and feet, his anus twitching around her as if he were trying to push her out. “Make me come. Please, Shelley. I’m begging you!”

  Starved for it, she lowered her head again, sucking the head of his penis while she pumped the base with one hand and fingered his prostate ruthlessly with the other.

  Arching even higher, he gave a choked cry and grabbed her head with both hands, supporting his upper body on the couch cushion. Shelley hung on tightly, sucking the thick pulses of come out of him and swallowing every drop while his contracting anus cut off the circulation to her fingers.

  When he finally collapsed into a near faint, Shelley withdrew from him carefully and laid her forehead against his twitching penis, relishing the heaviness of satisfaction in her abdomen where it rested on the pad. She was incredibly relaxed, and the unique, spicy flavor of his come on her tongue was almost as pleasurable as the feel of his fingers slowly massaging her scalp. She’d always refused to swallow before and now she couldn’t imagine why.

  Remembering where her hand had just been, she surreptitiously rolled her palm and each individual finger on the biologic pad. The infection control nurse in her rebelled, demanding soap and water, but it seemed like too much work at the moment. Maybe she should see if she could get one of those sterilizing blocks from the infirmary so she wouldn’t have to jump out of bed and wash her hands when they did this.

  Shelley blinked. When who did this?

  She peered up at him through the tangle of her curls, hardly able to believe what she’d just done. As if he’d heard her neck creak, he lifted his head and smiled down at her, his eyes a warmer, darker blue than usual.

  “Wow, I’m…” a nervous laugh bubbled out of her as the lovely afterglow dissipated in a hurry, “…turning into such a ho.”

  His flat belly jerked when he laughed too. “You are far from a ho, Shelley-Belle.”

  “Ugh. I don’t know how these things work on Garathan, but Terran women don’t really like to be reminded of their fathers in the middle of a sexual encounter.”

  “But we’re not in the middle, and I like that name. It suits you.”

  She blew a raspberry at him, feeling incredibly self-conscious. “Whatever.”

  Still smiling, he pulled his fingers free of her hair and brushed
it from her face. “And you were worried about the minister having his way with me against my will.”

  Shelley stiffened and then pushed up on her hands and knees as her stomach did a slow roll. She had been forceful with him—really, really forceful.

  “Hastion, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, sinking back on her heels. “I was just…”

  What? Starving for come? She hated letting guys come in her mouth, and she only swallowed if they came far enough back in her throat that she couldn’t taste it.

  What in God’s name had come over her?

  “Shelley, I was teasing!” Straightening, he took her face in his hands and kissed her lips gently. “That thrilled me like few things ever have.”

  She searched his eyes for signs of trauma. “It wasn’t against your will?”

  “Of course not. I will treasure the memory the rest of my days.”

  “Oops, sorry,” Janelle said from behind her.

  Shelley jerked around with a squeak, and only Hastion’s quick hands grasping her upper arms kept her from falling back and emasculating him with her elbow. Her face grew so hot it was probably glowing like Rudolph’s nose, but she had the presence of mind to stay in place, shielding him from the girls’ eyes while he zipped himself back into his suit.

  Tara snorted. “Well I guess now we know why she wanted to go to Garathan.”

  Stung, Shelley struggled to her feet, ready to give the little brat a gigantic piece of her mind. But when she opened her mouth, there was nothing to give—her mind was completely blank.

  Not that it mattered. Tara was already stalking down the hall to her room. Janelle, obviously impressed, gave Shelley a wide-eyed thumbs-up before following her.

  Her head suddenly pounding, Shelley sighed. “Well that was awkward.”

  Hastion’s hands slid over her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. I’m the one who…” went from kissing to fisting in one easy step “…took things so far.”

  He squeezed, rubbing circles at the base of her neck with his thumbs. “And I appreciate it more than I can say.”

  Shelley cringed. Did he really? Or was he just saying that to make her feel better?

  “I should probably go talk to Tara,” she said uncomfortably—not that she had any intention of seeing her right now. She just needed to be alone. To think.

  “Of course. I’m due at my post in a half hour anyway.” He turned her and bent down to brush several kisses over her tender lips, rubbing his hands over her back in a way that should have been reassuring but only made her more self-conscious. “I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow.”

  Breakfast. Her face reignited. Oh God, she was going to have to do an alien walk of shame in front of Tara. And Monica. And Shauss. And the minister.

  Just thinking about it made her want to throw up—and then go hide under her pillow for the rest of her life. It would be different if Hastion had been the aggressor, but he hadn’t. She had. She’d mauled him, for heaven’s sake!

  “Hastion!” she burst out.

  Halfway out the door, he turned with an inquiring look.

  “This…” she waved her hands in the air, “…what just happened… It isn’t how I really am. I won’t do it again.”

  He searched her face for a second and then walked back to her. Leaning down, he jerked her into his arms and kissed the hell out of her, smashing her into his muscled body like he’d never let her go. When he finally came up for air, he let her down slowly, which was good since she was a little dizzy and her knees wobbled.

  “It’s probably for the best, at least for now,” he told her with blazing eyes. “There’s a limit to my self-control.”

  Unable to think of anything to say, she nodded stupidly.

  “I’ll see you at breakfast, Shelley,” he added sternly. “No hiding. Promise me.”

  Her eyes widened as she nodded again.

  After he left, she pressed her fingertips to her swollen mouth, her pulse still racing. At least for now? What did he mean by that?

  Almost against her will, her lips curved into a smile. Maybe Garathan wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  Chapter Twelve

  By the time their shuttle pod departed for the planet’s surface two weeks later, Shelley’s postorgasmic optimism had faded and she found herself unexpectedly reluctant to leave the security of the ship. It, at least, was a known quantity, and once she finally accepted that she wouldn’t be returning to Earth anytime soon, she’d actually come to appreciate the enforced intimacy. Who knew what waited below? What if they’d made Garathan sound a lot more attractive and a lot less dangerous than it actually was?

  Her left hand tightened on the plush armrest as Hastion piloted the pod across Garathan’s indigo stratosphere, skimming along at a deceptively easy speed. Her right, unbelievably, was still enclosed in the minister’s strong grip. Without even looking at her, he’d reached across the narrow aisle and pried her white knuckles loose before their dramatic takeoff from the low-ceilinged Transport Deck ten minutes earlier, gently rubbing the circulation back into her fingers with his thumb.

  His touch had calmed her at first, but now she was all but throbbing with awareness of his skin against hers, and more than a little self-conscious with Hastion sitting just ahead of them.

  She tried to distract herself by craning her neck to catch another glimpse of the planet below from a side window.

  Whoever nicknamed Earth the Big Blue Marble had obviously never seen Garathan—from a distance, it looked a lot like home, with artistic white swirls over a deep-blue sphere, but the closer they got, the bluer everything looked.

  She sighed. “So much for getting away from all the unrelieved blue.”

  “When your eyes adjust to our sun’s light, the variety of colors will become more vivid,” the minister assured her.

  “If you say so.”

  Like Tara and the twins, who were strapped into the seats behind them, she’d had to have her eyes dosed with the protective drops all Terrans needed to use monthly for their first year on Garathan. Pesera’s light was supposedly less harmful than Sol’s in the long term but it still contained enough UV light to fry retinas and unprotected skin. They’d also have to be careful to use sunscreen for the first year unless they were under a security screen, but eaten in sufficient quantities, Garathan’s flora would gradually build their resistance to UV light at a cellular level.

  Lower and lower they flew, and still Shelley could see nothing but a royal blue so deep it was almost purple.

  Abruptly they flew into a lavender cloud bank and she closed her eyes as she clutched at the minister’s much-warmer fingers. “I hope you know where we’re going, Hastion.”

  “Fear not, Empran does even if I don’t.”

  When bright light turned her eyelids red again, Shelley opened her eyes and gasped. It was a world of islands as far as she could see. Some were huge, but most were tiny, and they were all covered with foliage that looked every bit as blue as the water.

  “Why aren’t your plants green like ours?” she asked sadly. “I miss green.”

  “Our vegetation is much the same color as yours, but there is less yellow in the spectrum of Pesera’s light for them to reflect. Just be patient, tiny Terran,” Cecine said indulgently. “You have my word that your eyes will adapt to the beauty of Garathan.”

  Shelley nodded her understanding, though she couldn’t decide whether to be annoyed or thrilled by the “tiny Terran”. He’d called her that before, in his quarters, but it hadn’t sounded quite so patronizing then—or if it had, she’d been too distracted by his unholy hotness to notice.

  She was surprised when they approached one of the smaller islands, but the closer they got, the more she realized perspective was everything. The smaller islands were still quite large.

  “This is Kalinda,” the minister said, watching her.

  Her eyes widened. “That’s the name of this island?”

  “It is. Both my house a
nd Kellen’s are on Kalinda.”

  “Wow, what a cool coincidence.” She smiled. “I’ll have to write that in Kallie’s baby book.”

  “Indeed,” he murmured.

  “So Shauss’s house isn’t here?”

  “It’s on Ryola,” Hastion said, “the largest land mass we passed in our final descent. My father’s is there too. Don’t worry, the pod travel time between Ryola and Kalinda is less than four minutes. You and Jasmine will have ample opportunity for hijinks with Monica before they return to Earth for the next recruitment mission.”

  Hijinks. She flipped him a discreet bird with her free hand and was startled when he laughed out loud.

  “How did you know?” she asked, wide-eyed.

  “My apologies,” he said without a trace of contriteness. “Empran routinely provides pilots with a visual feed of passengers to facilitate communication.”

  Oh great, so he’d been watching her hold hands with the minister. “Kind of like the mirror over the bus driver’s head, except we can’t see you, huh?”

  “Only cerecom-implanted passengers may request a similar feed of the pilot.”

  “How nice for them.”

  He didn’t reply but she could see his ribs shake with a laugh. Apparently he wasn’t the least bit bothered by the hand-holding. And he hadn’t made any more overtures toward her since that hot kiss he’d laid on her the day she attacked him. Oh, he’d been as nice as always, and he took every opportunity to play with the twins, and sometimes a certain look from him made her go breathless and hot all over with need. Otherwise, it was almost like nothing more personal than a handshake had ever happened between them.

  Had she just misconstrued that at least for now, blown it out of proportion to what he’d intended? Had he lost interest after she forced herself on him like that?

  Sighing, she turned to watch out the window again, knowing there was nothing she could do about it if he had. She refused to make a fool out of herself by chasing him, and no way in hell was she going to force herself on him again.

 

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