Ar'Tok: Book Ten in the Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series

by Alana Khan

  “Oh!” For the first time in hoaras, she looks shy. “I’d hoped . . .”

  After standing up and picking my way through the maze of equipment littering the floor, I lean over her as she sits on a chair at one of the makeshift computer stations.

  Draping my arms over her shoulders, I press my lips to her ear. She can’t see me in this position—it emboldens me.

  “When little Star gets too sleepy to work, I wonder if she’d want to join me in my bed.” She sucks in a little gasp of breath and stiffens.

  She grabs my wrists before I can pull away. Tilting her head to one side, she gives me better access to the gentle curve of her neck.

  “To sleep?” she asks, her voice husky, just like it was during our sexy comm the other night.

  “Sleep would be one choice,” I rumble into her ear. Her innocent question did not do innocent things to my body. On the contrary, all I can think of are all the other things we can do in my bed.

  “What other choices might we have?” She slides her hands from my wrists to my forearms, pressing them against her breasts. My cock kicks in my pants.

  “My cirr could stroke you to sleep.”

  She tips her head even farther to the side—an invitation.

  I’ve wanted to kiss this female for lunars, since the second night we spoke through comms. Who am I kidding? Since the first night we spoke. I keep reminding myself she wants nothing to do with a male who looks like me, but her actions tell me otherwise.

  Her ear is almost touching her shoulder as she opens herself to my advances. Those facile fingers aren’t gliding over the keyboard. She’s waiting for my next move.

  I brush my lips along her neck all the way to her ear. This affects her, because her grip tightens on my forearms. I’ve gone too long without tasting her. I lick her from earlobe to the gentle slope where neck meets shoulder. The fact that this makes her shiver brings a satisfied smile to my face.

  “You taste just like I imagined,” I breathe into her ear. “Delicious.”

  Pictures dance through my mind: gripping her cheeks in my hands as I own her mouth, drowning in the sweet taste of her, my palms mapping every ince of her body, sheathing myself in her wet heat.

  At that thought, I bring myself back to the present and step away, noticing her cheeks are ruddy and her chest is heaving with each breath.

  “Check your wrist-comm,” she says. “I’ll join you in bed in two hours after I get some programs running. Maybe by then you’ll have had enough time to compile a roster of other choices.”

  Star

  I can’t believe I just did that. I ordered Ar’Tok around and invited myself into his bed. This isn’t the Star I know. First, I agree to go to Paragon. Even my huge, blue father never would have taken this risk. Now, even though I'm working on the biggest job of my life, I’m barely interested in it. I can’t wait to lay in the foundation of my programming, then take a break and climb into bed with Ar’Tok.

  I need to quit wondering if he’s interested in me. He’s the one who initiated that kiss, or whatever you’d call it. And I felt his cock harden against my back. I shiver as I remember how hot that felt—to know I had that effect on him.

  I don’t know if I’m ready to share all the things a male and female can do together. But I’m ready for more than the gentle caress of his cirr.

  Two hours later, as I’m ready to hop into the shower, I inspect my reflection in the mirror. I never really gave much thought to my appearance before. My mom and dad loved me; the look in their eyes told me that.

  Growing up isolated, knowing humans weren’t supposed to be anywhere in space, made me very clear on one thing—it would never be safe to leave the Misfit. Therefore, I knew there would be no male in my future.

  One night, shortly before mom died, I heard my parents dispassionately discussing if they should buy me a male slave ‘to meet her needs’. I wasn’t certain why they were considering such a thing. I didn’t have any needs. At least I didn’t then. I discovered romance novels a few years ago. The descriptive passages awakened things in me I didn’t know had been slumbering deep inside.

  It’s funny, I’ve seen myself in a mirror a million times in my life, but I’ve never really looked before. Now I’m seeing myself through Ar’Tok’s eyes. Does he see a pretty woman? Does he notice the little scar near my eye where a shard of glass cut me? Does he think my lips are too plump?

  I turn on my heel and slip into the shower. Most people go through this in their teens; it isn’t healthy for me to fall down this rabbit hole.

  A few minutes later, I’m clean and wearing some clothes Brianna loaned me—a t-shirt and leggings. It seems to be the unofficial uniform onboard. Ar’Tok answers his door on my first knock. He’s wearing soft, gray sleep pants and is naked from the waist up.

  A little smile is playing on his features; his eye sparkles in pleasure. Why was I looking in the mirror and worrying? His face tells me so much more than a piece of shiny metal.

  “Did you get a lot done?”

  “Yep. I set close to a dozen programs running. There are hundreds of bots creeping their way through a thousand systems on Paragon computers, collecting data for me. Then there will be more programs to write tomorrow. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”

  “I’m not sure what you just said, but I heard the word easy.” His face becomes even more handsome as his smile widens.

  “Yes. Easy. Now, how did you do with your homework?” Did I really just say that? I just jumped into the deep end.

  He cocks an eyebrow, then says, “My roster of options? I’ve got them all right here.” He taps his temple. “Rather than give you a list, I thought I’d show you,” his voice deepened on those last two words, which made me feel something awaken deep in my belly—no, lower.

  He gently grips my shoulders and presses me against the metal door, then peers down at me, his head at a slight angle. He’s looking at me, scrutinizing. His gaze is nothing like how I was looking at myself only a few moments ago. No, he’s not sizing me up or assessing me. He’s memorizing me. Actually, it’s like a predator deciding which part of his prey he wants to eat first.

  Kiss me, I command from the privacy of my mind. He dips his head slowly toward me, then veers at the last minute, presses his nose to my neck, and breathes me in. Moving an inch to the right, he does it again. There’s something so primitive, so primal, about his actions it makes my knees weak.

  Before he even kisses me, he’s exploring my scent. His nose travels my neck, he breathes deeply in my damp hair, then follows my neckline and stops, his chin between my breasts.

  I wonder if I pass his sniff test, then decide I should conduct my own examination. My chin is close to the crown of his head. His horns flank my cheeks. My fingers itch to explore them, and I tentatively trace one finger from his scalp, along the graceful arch, to the tip. It’s hard keratin—I didn’t expect him to even feel it, but he’s still as a statue as I explore.

  “You can feel this?” I breathe as my finger circles the tip.

  He doesn’t answer with words—just a sexy exhalation, more like a grunt. He doesn’t move. I think he wants more.

  I grip both horns firmly, one in each palm, right above the scalp. He rewards me with a deep pant, almost a groan. I follow the curve up and back, noticing every breath and huff. His shoulders stiffen when I increase my pressure. I instinctively know he likes it harder.

  But when my fingers reach the slim tips, I trust my urge to lighten my touch. This makes him tremble as he rests his forehead on my chest, giving himself over to the pleasure.

  I’m standing, my back against the cool metal door, some of his weight is on me as a purr rumbles from deep in his throat. If he wasn’t standing, I’d call his muscles limp.

  I play with the ends of his horns the same way I caress the tips of my breasts when I touch myself in bed late at night. This makes him pant in a soft, huffing cadence.

  And then I feel his fingers on my face, caressing me, exploring me. Bu
t a moment later I realize it’s not his fingers, but his cirr—dozens of them. They slide along my cheekbones, trace the bracket of my ears, comb through my hair. I want to shake my head in a delicious shiver as they flutter along my eyelashes.

  “Ar’Tok.” It’s all I can force my lips to say. I hope it expresses my pleasure. His cirr move to the back of my head, gripping me more forcefully as he stands taller and sears me with a gaze so intense, so blazingly hot, I feel the urge to look away. But I don’t.

  We’re still standing. Fully clothed. But I have never felt this aroused, never experienced this level of heat in my life. Desire swirls in my pelvis. I feel my heartbeat not in my chest, but between my legs. The tips of my breasts ache to be touched.

  He gives me the slightest smile. On another male it might be a smirk. One side of his mouth quirks in an almost imperceptible movement. But there’s nothing derisive or dismissive about his expression. It’s as articulate as when I just spoke his name. It tells me how much he wants me right now.

  And then he speaks eloquently with his actions as his head dips, his lips finally brushing mine.

  This is exactly how I imagined my first kiss would be. So gentle. So full of passion. I want to keep my eyes open. I want to see his beautiful face, to watch the passion in his eyes, but my lids shutter closed of their own volition.

  Deleting my sight enhances my other senses. My arousal is even more urgent. His cirr hold me tight as he tilts his head, getting a better angle to explore me. And then his slick tongue slides along the seam of my lips. It tickles and arouses and is delightful even as it makes me want more.

  I open myself to him and hear him groan with pleasure. He accepts my invitation by piercing into me, his tongue mad with need. It’s as if something unleashed within him.

  Now that he’s standing, my hands slide and entangle in his cirr. They grip me, entwining with my fingers. They’re so expressive, so eager to feel my touch and return it.

  His tongue is pressing into me, exploring my mouth, savoring me, as I’m savoring him. All my senses overwhelm me. His taste reminds me of the expensive vanilla my mom used to hide in the back of the cupboard for special occasions. He smells like an exotic combination of sweet and spicy. I take an extra breath in through my nose to memorize it, then tuck it into the back of my mind to play back another day.

  His huge hands slide along the nape of my neck so gently, as if his cirr weren’t doing a good enough job of holding me tight.

  Now I know why species don’t die out unless they’re hunted to extinction—the biological imperative to breed.

  For the first time in my life, I feel need. A pressing, pounding need to couple, to connect, to be filled by him. It isn’t that interesting tickle I feel when I lie in bed with one of my books. It’s insistent and driving and compelling.

  I want more than his delicious tongue dancing with mine. I want his manhood inside me, to invade me.

  I try to disentangle my hand from his cirr, but they hold tight, not wanting to let go. I tug harder so my palms can slide down the hard muscles of his back. What an interesting combination of soft skin pulled tight over sculpted granite.

  The taut drawstring at the top of his pants is no match for my determined fingers as they slip beneath the fabric. The globes of his ass are magnificent—strong and hard. I press him closer, aware that he’s kept his hips away from me.

  Now’s the first moment I feel the hard rod of his cock against my belly. I gasp, shocked at the feel of his male warmth straining against me. I stretch on my tiptoes to feel him right there. His length now pressing against my clit.

  Needing even more of him, I sling my leg around him, dig my heel against the back of his thigh, and urge him even closer as I ride him.

  His cirr sneak between our bodies, slide down my neckline, and grip my nipples. My eyes flare open. I need to hold onto Ar’Tok’s gaze as a tether as the waves of an orgasm gush at me like a tsunami.

  When my release hits, I bite the cords of Ar’Tok’s neck as I come in a giant blast of bliss. Rolling surges of pleasure spill over and around me causing every muscle in my body to spasm in release.

  Afterward, I whimper, sated, too tired to speak, too exhausted to stand. Ar’Tok dips his knees and easily lifts me into his arms.

  “Good?” he asks without needing to. He’s smiling. A full-on smile that is radiant. Dear Gods, it looks good on him.

  “Bed,” is all I can say. My lips as rubbery as the rest of my body.

  He gently sets me down on the bed, as if I’m precious. My hands fly to my face to confirm what I imagined—a giddy grin is spread across my face.

  That was amazing and astonishing and so intimate, and we still have our clothes on. Wow.

  My dracking comm chooses this moment to announce, loudly I might add, “Trouble on program three. Malfunction needing your attention.”

  “Buzzkill!” I shout as I smack my arm against the mattress.

  I wish I hadn’t seen the look on his face. He’s already covered it up. But a moment ago, he wore the saddest expression.

  “It can wait,” I reassure him. “Let me take care of you.” Not that I know how. But I’m sure he’ll help me figure it out.

  “It’s important, right?” he asks with the adorable head-cock that’s becoming his trademark.

  “Urgent,” my comm interrupts, “because of program three’s failure, programs four, five, and six have stopped performing.”

  “Shit.”

  “We have time to finish this later,” he announces, acting as if it’s no big deal.

  “This is so whack. Promise me we’ll pick up where we left off.”

  He shakes his head, then adds with a smile, “No. We’ll have to start over.”

  I reach over to give him a quick kiss, but that doesn’t work. We keep kissing, then our tongues get involved, then his cirr, and my fingers, and within seconds my body is ramping up for a second round. I yank myself away and bound off the bed.

  “Yes, this is serious. I need to get those programs running or the project will never get finished on time. I didn’t like what happened in here a moment ago.” His head cocks as his face falls. “I loved it,” I amend quickly. “Those were without a doubt the best moments of my life. Give me a rain check.”

  “I don’t know what that is, but I’ll check your rain whenever you want.” He’s smiling again.

  “Yes, we’ll check each other’s rain many times,” I say as I slap the palm plate and scurry next door to my cabin.

  Chapter Five

  Ar’Tok

  Despite the promise of more intimacies like we shared the other night, Star has been far too busy to do anything more than crawl into my bed to catch an hoara’s sleep when she can spare the time. The only touching I allow myself is for my cirr to stroke her head, and that’s because I never knew they moved before I met Star, and I have no idea how to control them.

  She’s working so hard it would be selfish to steal her precious sleep time.

  Star leaves the Fool to meet Ergonn in an hoara, and Zar’s asked me to join him in his cabin before she goes. I try to allay my fears that I’m in trouble, but in the past, being summoned by someone in authority has never been a positive thing.

  “Thanks for coming,” Zar says when he invites me in. “Anya’s not here, it’s just you and me.”

  My worry disappears when I see the calm look on his face.

  “Shadow tells me you refused when he asked you to be part of Star’s gladiatorial guard. I figure there’s a reason.”

  My throat tightens in anxiety. I wonder if they’ll throw me off the ship when they find out my truth.

  “I’m not a gladiator.”

  He raises a furred eyebrow. “When you were rescued a few months ago, I was told you and Beast were on your way to auction—as gladiators.”

  “That’s correct. On my last day in prison, I was given the option of living with family or being sold as a gladiator. Since I have no family and nowhere to go, I was prodded on
to a slave ship on its way to auction. I assumed I would be trained. Then your ship rescued me.”

  “I see.” Zar nods as he rubs his chin.

  I wait for him to ask a hundred other questions, like why I was imprisoned and how a male can have no family. Questions I’m not ready to answer.

  “It’s obvious you and Star have a bond. Despite your reluctance, I’d like you to accompany her. I have a leather kilt that will fit you. That’s what the others will be wearing. I’ll equip you with a sword as well as a laser pistol. Are you willing to go with her as part of her protective guard?”