by Mel Teshco
He could take away mental discomfort, but clearly not anything physical.
His stare swept over her, assessing. “Take off your clothes.”
She glowered even as her traitorous body stirred into life at the inconceivable thrill. “I’ll never willingly fuck you or any other alien.”
He stared back. His mouth twitched. And even in the semi-dark she could see the mirth building behind his eyes. A laugh burst from his mouth, the sound warming her from the inside out. “When we have sex, my sweet, it’ll be consensual or not at all.”
When?
She released the breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding. “I’ll be leaving as soon as the storm passes. There’ll be nothing more between us than small talk. That’s a promise.”
His laughter died a quick death as somberness filled out the creases at either side of his mouth. “Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.”
She stared at him, disbelieving. Of all the conceited, arrogant men she’d ever met…
He raked a hand through his short hair on a sigh. “Perhaps you’re right to want to leave. When the virus wiped out all the women on our planet, it caused many of the Carèche men to go crazy with lust.”
Ally forgot about the wretched cold, forgot about everything to do with sex. “Your planet has no women now?”
He nodded, expressionless. But somehow she knew he was holding back a whole lot of hurt and loss. “That is correct. Just the same as your planet no longer has men.”
Oh, god. Even now it seemed so inconceivable. Like a nightmare she couldn’t awaken from.
The hard planes of his face softened. “There is plenty of time for questions later. For now, let’s get you dry and warm.”
And here she’d imagined he wanted her. She lifted robotic arms, stupidly offended, despite herself. Clearly some insecurities bit deep. She’d never been any raving beauty and now with her hacked-off hair and grubby appearance she really must be one of the last women on the planet for Renate or any man to be halfway interested in her.
She stood mutely, her eyes open but not really seeing as he peeled the sodden tee over her head.
His breath whooshed at her unrestrained breasts with their immediately hardening nipples. “Beautiful,” he murmured.
Her stare widened. She searched his expression and saw a whole world of desire. And she was glad. Wonderfully, ridiculously glad. Just once she wanted to forget all the recently returned memories, the doubts and pitiful insecurities scrambling inside her head as though a freight train without direction.
He stooped low, his blunt-ended fingers unbuckling her boots. Her footwear looked more like something a man would wear to a building site than anything close to the feminine and sexy heels she used to wear.
That’ll nip his lustful thoughts right to kingdom come.
His warm fingers encircled her ankle. She lifted her foot and clasped his downturned head for balance. Without missing a beat, he tugged first one boot and sock off, then the other before looking up, his stare hot. And in that moment in time, all hate for the alien male dissolved. Hate couldn’t take part in something that made her feel so…sexy. Beautiful. Wanton.
She gritted her teeth. Yet more mind control?
She dropped her hold on his head and closed her eyes for a moment to the madness consuming her. Had she been alone for so long now she’d been made susceptible to the aching, carnal need inside?
He straightened, his deft fingers unbuttoning her denim shorts. She drew in a long breath, wanting only to lean into his muscled heat, absorb it. But the heat wave from his burning stare as he pulled down her shorts, then hooked his thumbs into her panties, was all the warmth she needed.
Insecurities be damned!
He might well have resisted the pleasures of the flesh with the men of his species, but she realized now, he most certainly wasn’t immune to her…to an earth woman.
He took his time divesting her of her panties and she stepped out of the fabric bunched at her feet on trembling legs. Ice-cold wind belched through the hole that’d once been a window and she shivered almost uncontrollably as he retrieved the flashlight and shone it over a wooden pallet covered with ripped cardboard, a sleeping bag on top. “This was all I could find,” he apologized. “But it will keep us off the floor.”
“Us? We’re sharing the sleeping bag?”
“Body heat,” he explained. As her eyes dropped to the unmistakable bulge of his crotch, he said hoarsely, “My body can’t lie, but I’ve said you’ll be safe with me. And you will be. Unless you choose otherwise.”
She jerked out a nod. Whether she trusted him or not—and somehow, foolishly, she did—she’d die of frostbite if she didn’t hurry the hell up. Seconds later she climbed into the fleecy warmth of the sleeping bag. Behind her, Renate slung her clothes over some shelving to dry, and then bent to roll his pants past his thighs and calves. Stepping free, he exposed his huge, aroused cock that looked about ready to burst at the seams.
Oh, dear lord.
It seemed these males were human in every way except for their humongous size.
Face heating, she rolled to her side, averting her gaze. But seconds later he slid into the sleeping bag beside her, his all-too-naked, powerful body taking up the remaining space and more.
He turned toward her, pulling her naked back and butt against him. “I’ll keep you warm, kitten,” he said hoarsely. “Now sleep. It’s going to be a long night.”
Sleep? Not in a million years. Not with you wrapped around me and the press of your hard, hot cock against my skin.
It was the last thought she had before the delicious cocoon of warmth pulled her weary body into a deep, dreamless sleep…
She drifted awake ever so slowly, savoring the almost forgotten intimacy, the utter peacefulness of being in the arms of her husband. It’d been way too long since she’d woken beside him, his arms wrapped around her as if he’d never let her go.
She rolled over, snuggling into his body, her eyes still closed as she pressed her face into his masculine heat. “Mm. Luke, you smell good,” she mumbled.
“Luke?”
She jerked awake at the foreign male voice, eyes springing apart as the truth slammed into her like a lead ball. He wasn’t Luke. This was not her bed—it wasn’t even a bed. And this was no early morning to be filled making love with her husband.
Oh, hell no!
Here. Now. This was her reality.
Renate’s eyes drilled into hers, anger and fierce need all rolled into one. Then he flipped her on to her back, his body moving to cover hers. A half growl rumbled from his chest, the back of his open mouth revealing razor sharp canines that weren’t even remotely human. “You think of this Luke when you lie with me?”
She swallowed, throat dry. “Luke was my husband. I…loved him.”
Didn’t I?
Surely this alien understood love? Perceived her loss?
Apparently not.
Renate’s face was a mask of raw possessiveness. He pinned her hands above her head, her struggles all but useless as he growled, “Then I’ll make you forget your love for him.”
“You can’t,” she breathed.
So why did her heart stutter with excitement? Why did the blood rush to her face and heat her pussy? Why did she want to kiss his sexy, kissable lips?
“I can. And I will. You’re my mate now.” A muscle flickered in his jaw. “Mine.”
Her eyes burned, vision distorting with unshed tears. But it was from passion as much as loathing and for that she despised herself as much as him. In a voice that rasped with emotion she asked, “And yet you’re willing to share me with four others?”
Something primal flashed in his stare. And she realized then—he wouldn’t be sharing her with anyone. Not anytime soon.
He ground his cock against the lightly haired mound of her pussy, causing her to gasp and squirm in both horror and unmistakable delight. When his mouth took possession of hers, his lips hard and demanding, s
he fought him at first, a mental fight as much as physical.
She bit into his lip, her teeth piercing his soft flesh.
He reared back. Shell shocked?
She angled her chin. “What happened to consensual or not at all?”
“That hasn’t changed,” he growled. “I feel the passion you struggle to contain.” He used one hand to restrain her arms, the other to swipe at the blood smearing his lip. “But your resistance ebbs fast.”
She glowered, ignoring the sculpted lines of his golden chest and his tight abs, ignoring the feel of his rearing cock with his heavy testicles beneath. She shook her head. “Your mind control makes me weak.”
His free hand moved to cup one of her breasts, his thumb and forefinger rolling the stiff nipple harder still. “Except I’m not using mind control. I haven’t since I asked you to undress.”
Oh, shit.
Somehow she believed him. Especially when he moved rhythmically over her body, a slow dance that replicated the act itself without penetration. The head of his cock slid along her clit and up over her pussy, then back down again, up and down, forward and back. He sucked her earlobe into his mouth, his hot breath sending ripples of need through her every cell.
She closed her eyes, dredging up all the horrors she’d lived through in an attempt to keep the insatiable hunger at bay. It didn’t work. Her body absorbed his touch as parched ground did rain. And god help her, she wanted this, wanted him. Wanted nothing more than to live in the moment and enjoy the now.
And perhaps create a new, amazing memory to override all the bad ones.
Her body began to move of its own accord, her repressed emotions unraveling at his touch, his voice, at the friction of their bodies. And then his hand released her arms and he was pressing kisses along her jaw and collarbone, the tips of her breasts.
She writhed, gasping, her fingers suddenly in his short hair, clutching at him even as he continued his journey ever downward, the sleeping bag sliding along with him, exposing them to the cold.
His lips branded the skin along her taut belly, his tongue swirling around her navel before dipping inside. Her breath shuddered. Her pulse jerked. Had she ever known how hypersensitive that area was?
He looked up, his stare glowing and filled with passion, with promise. The next instant his hands clasped her inner thighs and he spread her wide. His head dipped. She jumped, teeth gritted at the exquisite touch of his hot tongue on her hard, sensitive clit.
Luke hadn’t enjoyed giving oral sex. Their sex antics had encompassed a more missionary flavor. Not unlike the boring and predictable routines of their life.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Where had that dangerous thought—that memory—come from? But then all contemplation dissolved as flames of pleasure licked at her clitoris and spread through her body, Renate drawing the hard nub of her clit between his lips and suckling hard, his tongue lashing at the bundle of nerves.
“Ohhh…fuck.” Her hips jerked at the sudden climax, the involuntary spasm pushing her cunt even closer to his mouth and undoubtedly giving Renate an extra burst of pussy flavor.
His expression brimmed with satisfaction as he tasted her again and again. When at last he drew back, he replaced his mouth with one of his big hands that immediately began massaging and stimulating her pussy all over again. “You’re so damn wet,” he growled. “So ready for my cock to slide right in.”
She gasped for breath and his expression was all male triumph as he drawled, “Just say the word.”
Her hips bucked as the pressure of his fingers intensified. She reached out a tentative hand, touching the thick bulge of his cock. “You’re too big,” she breathed “You couldn’t possibly fit.”
His free hand took hold of hers, pressing her questing touch closer still to his arousal. “Say the word and I’ll show you just how perfectly we do fit,” he said hoarsely.
She whimpered, wanting him with a desperation that was almost painful. “I do want you,” she groaned. “But only you. No one else.”
His cock jumped beneath her hand and she stared up at his savage, yet almost vulnerable expression, willing him to agree and somehow knowing that his word—once given—wouldn’t be broken.
“That’s not possible,” he growled. “You ask too much.”
“Yet I ask for even more.”
At his silence she said in a rush, “No more mind control—ever.” She was barely thinking straight but knew without doubt he was at his most susceptible now, the perfect time to use what feminine wiles she had. “I want to be joined with you—no one else—and with all my thoughts my own.”
She slid a hand between his thighs, biting back a wanton groan at the heat and hardness she found. “Renate. Please. Say yes.”
Chapter Three
Renate leaned forward. His nostrils flared. “Yes.”
She sucked in a breath. He’d agreed!
But at what cost?
She pushed a sudden attack of conscience aside. She had to think about herself, think what was best for her, for Bonnie. Not this alien who meant nothing to her.
Nothing? Yeah, right.
But then she was tucking her legs around his hips, aligning her pussy to his cock. In this moment she wouldn’t think on the fact she was fucking the enemy. All doubts and insecurities were set aside so that she could remember what is was to be alive.
One of his hands clasped the base of his erection and he massaged the slippery flesh of her cunt with the head of his cock, stimulating her already sensitized nerve endings.
She clamped her legs around him and pinned him with a hot glare. “No more teasing!”
Please!
He nodded, the cords of his neck standing out in sharp relief. “As you wish.”
In one long stroke he drove into her slick heat, pushing the breath from her lungs and the voice from her throat. But she couldn’t have breathed, couldn’t have spoken even if she’d wanted. And then when he pulled out and thrust all the way back in, she couldn’t even think.
Until some kind of shockwave hit deep in her womb and flashed along her every cell, a fiery charge of pleasure that left her reeling for one beat, then two. On the third she was climaxing hard, almost brutally, swept high and far until she wondered for one brief, incredulous moment if she was traveling along some other plane of being.
“Yes.” Her voice returned on a strangled hiss of breath.
He paused, holding back as if drinking in her rapture, the clenching of her cunt muscles. Then with a guttural groan he pushed deep inside her, his strokes long and fierce and unrelenting.
His face clenched, skin pulling tight over sculpted cheekbones. A muscle jerked to life in his jaw and he let go, releasing his seed with a guttural moan.
They stayed joined together for long moments, holding each other’s stares and breathing hard.
She swallowed. “I don’t remember much from my past, but I’m certain sex has never been like this. Ever.”
With anyone.
He disengaged from her wet heat before shifting his weight off her. Lying on his side he drew her close. His stare was fathomless, yet somehow she perceived the conflicting undercurrents of his emotions.
He nodded, voice husky as he said, “That goes for me too, kitten.”
God, how much difference a day could make. She basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking, of knowing their union had been something beyond special. For both of them. With Renate’s strong arms wrapped around her, she felt a peace, a belonging she knew she’d never experienced with anyone before. It was as though a part of her had been missing, a part that was now returned.
What, it takes a virus to wipe out almost all of humanity for you to find your soul mate?
Guilt slid like a toxin through her radiance, dimming joy. Bloody hell. She couldn’t keep harboring such terrible thoughts. Like a cancer, they’d eat her alive. Though memories of the past hit her when she least expected, she wanted—needed—to look toward the future if she had even half a chance for a
happily ever after.
A future she’d never have believed was conceivable.
God only knew the days since she’d woken with no memory at all had been a special kind of hell on earth.
She breathed slowly and deeply, her thoughts drifting as she snuggled into the warmth of the sleeping bag, of the man beside her.
The rain had stopped, and through the broken window she could see the dull haze of an orange sunset, signaling the day’s end.
The storm had passed.
She’d leave…soon.
Minutes later, Renate’s breathing was strong and even, the sound of sleep.
It seemed even powerful beings needed their rest. Her lips curled into a smile and her eyes slid closed.
* * * * *
She forced a smile at the elderly man beside her, whose breath smelled of garlic and cigars as he droned on about his investment portfolio and how much money he’d made the last financial year.
She glanced at her husband sitting on her other side, hoping he’d take the hint and rescue her. But Luke’s interest had long ago been captured by Felicia, the very blonde, very attractive CEO of some important organization or another. Ally’s smile turned into a grimace. Clearly he found the other woman a much more fascinating and attractive dinner companion.
Oh how she wished for something more than the scraps she’d been handed in the beauty department. Perhaps she wouldn’t be in this mess now, married for all of four months and the spark between her and Luke already faded to barely a glimmer.
She tapped Luke’s designer-suited shoulder even as the old man leaned closer still and continued his self-important oration. Her husband twisted around with a faint frown. “Yes?”
“Honey, I have a stinking headache. Would you mind—?”
“Of course! You do look pale. Why didn’t you say so earlier?” He smiled a smile that reeked of satisfaction instead of concern. “I’ll call Anton and get him to drive you home.”
She stared into his guileless hazel eyes. “Right. Thanks.”
He leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to her brow. And with his gaze already drifting to his voluptuous dinner companion, he murmured, “Don’t wait up.”