Alien Conquest

by Honey Phillips

  “Now the other side,” she ordered and presented her other breast. He responded eagerly, sucking her deep, the sensation so intense it was almost painful. His cock kept grazing the soaked crotch of her panties and she began to grind against it, the head massaging her swollen clit and sending shockwaves of pleasure up her spine. She reached down and drew the fabric to one side, so he made direct contact with her flesh. She had to fight to make room. Frantic now, she lifted higher until she could center the aching entrance to her cunt over that enormous head. She pushed down, her body resisting at first as it always did, until at last, he breached the tight entrance and pushed inside.

  Even as wet as she was, her body resisted and she had to fight for every inch, working her way down the huge shaft, her cunt fluttering desperately around dip and swell. By the time she had impaled herself completely, sweat covered her body and her orgasm hovered just out of reach. She was stretched so wide that her clit kept brushing against his hard pelvis, keeping her on the knife edge of pleasure. T’lan sat rigid, every muscle tense, his claws digging into the hard surface of the couch. The sight of him fully clothed while she was almost naked over him, only added to her excitement but she was too shaky to move.

  “T’lan, please, help me.”

  His claws immediately retracted as his hands went to her waist, lifting her slowly up his shaft so that she felt every inch of the withdrawal, the textured surface firing every nerve ending.

  “Is this what you want, my L’chka? Do you want to feel your cunt clinging to my cock?” He paused when just the head remained inside, holding her easily, before lowering her just as slowly. “Do you want to feel it struggle to take me? Do you want to see it stretched wide? Open to me in every way?”

  He kept whispering to her as he increased the speed, until he was thrusting her down on his cock harder and harder, her clit spasming every time he brought her all the way down against him, reaching so far into her she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began. He slammed her down one last time, holding her impaled on him and she felt his cock grow even larger inside her, pulsing against her walls in an explosion of hot seed and tipping her over the edge so that she shuddered, helpless, split open and unable to escape the rush of pleasure.

  She collapsed against his chest and his arms folded her close. His musky scent surrounded her, always stronger after they had made love and she breathed deeply.

  “I must go, my L’chka.”

  “Mm. If you have to.” She sat up, the movement causing delicious ripples through her body from where he was still buried deep within her. His body began to stir, and she clenched her internal muscles a little to encourage it.

  “No, little one.” Reluctantly, he lifted her free and placed her next to him. “I cannot allow you to tempt me.”

  “Probably just as well. A’rathia is coming by.”

  “Is anything wrong with our child?”

  “No. She’s just coming for tea.” Emily was quite proud of her newfound ability to use T’lan’s replicator.

  “Very well. You should relax today. Tomorrow I will escort you to meet the scholars with whom you will work.”

  T’lan made a quick visit to the cleansing chamber, without her, and then left while she was preparing for A’rathia’s visit. She was determined to find out what was troubling her new relative.

  A’rathia asked about Emily’s health, complimented her on the tea, and then fell silent. Emily nudged Tribs toward her and the little pet nuzzled the older female’s hand. Once she started stroking his fur and looking somewhat more relaxed, Emily seized the moment.

  “Is something wrong, A’rathia?”

  “No.” Her body tensed, but Tribs nudged her and she resumed her strokes.

  “So T’rarchar is your warrior,” Emily said in a carefully casual tone.

  “Yes, M’lee. I suppose you have questions.”

  “I don’t understand why you weren’t here with him and why you both act so distant when you obviously care for each other,” she burst out. “Is that going to happen to me and T’lan?”

  A’rathia laughed sadly. “No, child. I suppose you want to know the whole story?”

  “It might help to talk about it.”

  “Perhaps…” Her eyes stared off into the distance, glowing a soft blue. “T’rarchar was already a commander when we met, very brave and honorable. I had my pick, of course, but I knew he was the one I wanted so I allowed him to claim me.”

  “Did you love him?”

  “Love is not a term most Yehrin use.” Emily’s heart sank and she wanted to protest but she kept quiet and listened as A’rathia. “But I wanted only to be with him. He wanted to be part of the next campaign, so I traveled with him. Of course, once I was with child, he chose a post on a planet already under Yehrin control. We had a son, I pursued the training to become a medic, T’rarchar rose through the ranks until he became Supreme Commander for the planet, and we were very happy.”

  A’rathia picked up her teacup and studied it but Emily didn’t think she actually saw it.

  “What happened?”

  “Our son chose the Way of the Warrior. I did not question it because it made him happy. On his second campaign, he met a female. He was… enamored. She seemed to be the same way but all she actually wanted was the prestige of a Yehrin husband. But he worshipped her and got her with child. Once the child was born, she revealed her true nature. Our son constantly fought to avenge her honor, but she had none. In despair, he joined a third campaign. He was killed.”

  “Oh, A’rathia. I’m so sorry.” Emily reached out and covered the other female’s hand. A’rathia turned hers up and clasped it for a minute before drawing away.

  “Jenelle - that was the female’s name - had no interest in her child so she left him with me.”

  “S’ram?”

  “Yes. Of course, he was J’ram then. But he was a delightful child. A little quiet but thoughtful and kind. He was especially shy around T’rarchar, even though he worshipped him. The trouble came when he decided to choose the Way of the Scholar.”

  “T’rarchar wanted him to be a warrior?” Emily guessed.

  “Yes. He did not… take it well. They argued and I took S’ram’s side. So, he went off to the Scholar House and T’rarchar applied for the next campaign. I remained behind.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Ten cycles.”

  “Ten years? Have you seen him since then?”

  “Yes. There is a bond between a warrior and his L’chka that cannot be erased, at least not for a Yehrin. T’rarchar came home between each campaign but he always applied for the next one. I think he thought that since he did not have a warrior son or grandson, that he was required to replace them.”

  “You still love—care for him.”

  “Very much.”

  They sat in silence. Emily grieved for the other female. The very thought of being so estranged from T’lan made her heart ache. Thinking over the story she had heard, she suddenly realized why A’rathia had behaved so strangely.

  “Is that why you were so cold to me, the morning you examined me? You thought I was like Jenelle, trying to trap S’ram?”

  “Yes, my child. I am truly sorry.”

  Before Emily could reassure her, the door alarm sounded. When she answered it, her guard informed her that she had been requested to visit the Supreme Commander, immediately.

  “I will go with you,” A’rathia announced.

  This time a warrior manned the desk in the outer waiting room. He stared at Emily until her guard stepped forward with his hand on his sword hilt. She sighed and wondered if she would ever get used to being the center of attention. Most of the warriors acted as if they had never seen a female before, let alone a pregnant one. The receptionist managed to pull himself together and send them through to the Supreme Commander’s office. He sat at his desk, head bent, weariness in every line of his body. A’rathia and Emily exchanged concerned glances before A’rathia broke the silence.r />
  “T’rarchar?”

  “My L’chka. I did not expect you but perhaps it is well that you are here.” He gestured them to a chair. “M’lee, I have spoken to the scholars. Because I have agreed to let them resume their peaceful efforts, they agreed to give us access to their data.”

  “Have you found the missing visitor?”

  “Not yet. But we found this.” He picked up a piece of paper from his desk. “It seems that S’ram was composing a message to you on his device when the explosion occurred. The draft was saved.”

  Hand shaking, she reached for the message.

  Emily,

  I must talk to you as soon as possible. This morning I was the happiest of males because you had finally consented to be mine. But my friend came to see me this morning. When he asked me how you had enjoyed the Yeisati, he laughed, and I did not like the way he laughed. He said he had more if I needed it to keep you compliant. But I do not want you compliant; I want your honesty. And now I am afraid. Did you truly accept my claim?

  I must see you. Everything last night was so fast and confused. If, as I hope, you have agreed to my claim, then I must remedy my failure to satisfy you. If you did not consent, then I have behaved without honor and I have much for which to atone. I am afraid that I have been very foolish. I am not sure if he will listen, but I must tell my grandfather about

  The message ended. She flipped the piece of paper, looking for more, but there was nothing.

  She tried to read it again, but the words blurred, and a teardrop fell on the paper. “He didn’t mean for it to happen.”

  T’rarchar’s head was still bowed, but he shook it. “No.”

  “May I?” A’rathia asked gently.

  Emily handed the paper to her just as a warm body enfolded her and T’lan’s familiar scent filled her head. She turned into his arms and burst out in sobs.

  “Hush, M’lee. T’rarchar told me about the note.” He stroked her hair until she calmed.

  “He was just a boy.”

  “And now you can remember him as your friend without hesitation.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  He hesitated and she saw that he was struggling to answer her, his instinctive aggression toward another male at odds with his desire for her happiness.

  “I can wish that I had met you first,” he said eventually, and she knew how much of a concession he had made.

  Remembering that they were not alone, she turned to find A’rathia weeping silently, while T’rarchar had his arms around her the same way T’lan enfolded her. Emily rose to her feet and tugged T’lan to the door, leaving the older couple to their shared grief.

  Chapter Thirty

  “Does this look professional enough?” Emily asked T’lan the next morning. She was wearing slim navy maternity pants and a matching blouse with a little lace collar.

  “You look beautiful, M’lee,” T’lan responded.

  “You always say that.”

  “Because you are always beautiful. Shall I prove my sincerity?” He advanced with a gleam in his eye and she backed away laughing.

  “I will accept your earlier efforts this morning as proof.” Her body still hummed pleasantly from those efforts. “I don’t want to be late.”

  “Just a kiss then.”

  Before she could voice a half-hearted protest, he lifted her to his mouth, parting her lips beneath his. He stroked his tongue across her bottom lip and nipped it lightly, knowing how it made her melt. She moaned and opened to him and he stroked deeper into her mouth. Her legs came up to circle his waist and the thought of being late suddenly didn’t seem so terrible. She started to rub her breasts against the hard planes of his chest—and the door alarm sounded.

  Reluctantly, T’lan lifted his head and lowered her to her feet. “That will be T’renan. We should go. And remember M’lee, your most important job is to care for our child. Do not allow yourself to become tired.”

  “Don’t worry, big guy. The baby and I will be fine.”

  Tren waited at the door. He still looked grim and unhappy, but when Emily smiled at him, his face relaxed into what was almost a return smile. Deciding to take that as a positive note, she chattered cheerfully all the way to the room that had been assigned for their efforts. When they got to the door, her mouth went dry. T’lan entered first and she tried her best not to hide behind him. The three scholars that waited were all older, the hair composing their elaborate hair styles in shades of grey and white. Dressed in flowing black pants and the black kimonos that she recognized from her first disguise, they were all tall and slender with kind, thoughtful faces. They reminded her so much of the Yehrin she had met at the United Worlds that a lump clogged her throat.

  The spacious room had four long work tables, each equipped with tablets and large monitors, arranged in front of a series of view ports overlooking the earth. T’lan introduced her to the three males, all of whom bowed very respectfully and went out of their way to avoid looking at her stomach. He then led her firmly to the table at the farthest end of the room and Tren took up a position behind her, arms crossed. After giving her a quick, possessive kiss, T’lan left. Emily immediately moved back to the center of the room so she could actually talk to the older males, although she did stay on the other side of their work tables. To her delight, they had the same goals that she did about easing tensions and appreciated her human point of view.

  By the time midday rolled around, she was heads down on a communication program about a project to transform salt water to clean water. T’lan came back to collect her and both warriors escorted her to her grandmother’s room.

  “I love seeing you, but I really don’t need an entourage,” She told T’lan.

  “I will not always be able to escort you so allow me the pleasure when I can.”

  “You just wanted to check out those other males. Is it because of you that they are all so old?”

  He didn’t reply but she thought the skin across his cheekbones darkened.

  “You’re the only one for me, my warrior.” Putting her arms around him, she gave him a quick hug. “Are you coming in to see Gran?”

  “No, I have work to do. Tren will stay with you and escort you home.”

  “Fine.” She suppressed an eye roll. He kissed her and strode away. She took a moment to admire him—broad shoulders, muscular legs, tight ass, even the horns seemed perfect to her now. A sigh escaped her, and she caught Tren giving her an amused look. Blushing, she entered her grandmother’s room. Of course, the doctor was there, sitting across from Gran over one of their endless games. Suppressing her irritation, she went to give Gran a kiss.

  “How are you, sweetie?”

  “I’m great. I’m actually working again.” Her excitement bubbled over and she spent the next ten minutes talking about her morning.

  “Sounds like you ladies have a lot to talk about. I’m going to go check in with A’rathia,” Dr. Gaston said. For once he was actually leaving. Emily tried to hide her elation and give him a cordial goodbye.

  “You’re looking much better, Gran.” Her grandmother looked more relaxed and happier than she could remember.

  “I am better. In fact, I’m thinking of going home.”

  “Back to Elmwood? You can’t. What if someone tries to hurt you again?”

  “Your commander assures me that the town is under strict control.”

  “He does? When did he say that?”

  “When I asked him.”

  “But why? Why do you want to go back?” And leave me?

  Gran took a deep breath. “Jim is worried about his patients. He wants to return.”

  “So, let him go. You don’t need him anymore.”

  “Sweetie, you don’t understand. Jim has asked me to marry him.”

  Emily’s mouth dropped open. “What? You can’t.”

  “I most certainly can,” Gran said tartly.

  “But what about Grandpa?”

  “He’s been dead for almost thirty years. I think it’
s time to move on.” She held up a hand to forestall Emily’s response. “You’ve found love with T’lan and I’m very happy for you. But it’s made me realize what I’m missing.”

  “But Dr. Gaston?”

  “I’ve known him all of my life and…” She blushed and looked twenty years younger. “He’s been in love with me for most of that time.”

  Emily collapsed into a chair. “Did you know that?”

  “I think I suspected, but your grandfather was always the one for me. Spending this time together has made me realize how much we have in common and how much we simply enjoy being together. That means a lot, especially when you get older.”

  “I know it does.” Emily’s smile was genuine, if a little shaky. “I’m happy for you, Gran. When are you going to get married?”

  “In a month.”

  “A month? That’s so soon.”

  “We’re not getting any younger. And I don’t want to live in sin for too long.” Gran pursed her lips, but her eyes twinkled.

  “What about when the baby comes? Maybe I should come with you.”

  “Is that really what you want?”

  Emily thought about her new job, about how relaxed T’lan was on the ship, even about her developing friendship with A’rathia. Living aboard might have its frustrations, but right now, she wouldn’t trade it.

  “No,” she said slowly. “I think I want to stay. But you will come back when the baby is due?”

  “Wild horses wouldn’t keep me away.”

  “Oh, Gran. I’m going to miss you so much.” She left her chair and knelt at her grandmother’s feet with her head on her lap. Her grandmother stroked her hair.

  “I’m going to miss you, too, sweetie. But I think this is the right thing to do.”

  T’lan entered his quarters, still astonished at the number of changes M’lee had made over the past week since he had encouraged her to make their rooms more to her taste. The bed and couch were covered with bright cushions and blankets. She had added low tables in painted wood to hold small bowls and flowers and candles, although he had insisted on electronic flames. A misshapen lump of yellow on the couch represented her determined attempt to fashion a blanket for their child by herself, despite his assurance that he would be happy to purchase as many blankets as she desired.