A Son for the Alien Warrior (Treasured by the Alien Book 2)

by Honey Phillips

  “No, I suppose not,” Cestov admitted.

  “Then why not let them run around?”

  “What if they shit all over the place?” Maldost protested.

  “Then you will just have to clean it up,” Cestov said cheerfully as he swept Mariah up the stairs.

  He took her to the galley and introduced her to the wonders of spaceship cooking, which seemed to consist mainly of pushing buttons.

  “I could get used to this. I was never much of a cook,” she admitted as they sat down to eat. “Judith tried to teach me, but I was always too impatient. I had a habit of jumping ahead without paying attention to what needed to be done next.”

  “You said your sister is older than you?”

  “Yes, by eight years. She helped raise me.” Her throat closed. “She was so good to me, more like a mother than a sister most of the time. I wish she hadn’t waited so long to have Charlie. She was in her forties when she finally decided that I wasn’t going to grow up and went after her own dream.”

  “You seem fully grown to me,” he said appreciatively.

  “In years, yes. I’m practically over the hill.”

  “I do not understand. What hill?”

  “It’s just an expression. It means my youth is behind me.”

  “But your sister did not think so?”

  “She wanted me to stop traveling. To get a job singing somewhere close to her.”

  “But you did not want this?”

  “No. I always thought I was one gig away from my big break. One job away from the opportunity that would change everything,” she clarified. “And then I would be a star.”

  “I think I understand. We always used to joke about finding that one cargo that would make our fortune.” He looked away from her, his eyes distant. “At least I was joking. I was content with my life. I now know my brother was not.”

  “And I was pretty happy with mine. Well, most of the time.” Those empty hotel rooms flashed through her mind. “But I think part of it was because I knew I could always come back to her. That I had a home and a family waiting for me while I explored.”

  “Bratan was my family. I cannot forgive myself for not realizing that he needed more.”

  She reached over and laid her hand on his. After a long silence, he sighed and changed the subject.

  They spent most of the afternoon talking, not about anything important, but he told her some of his adventures as a trader and she told him about her life on the road. They both very carefully avoided talking about their loved ones and the hope that they would find them on Trevelor.

  When the evening meal rolled around, they made it together—or at least she helped him push the buttons—and then the rest of the crew joined them. The doctor appeared for the first time. Like Plovac, he was tall and thin, but he had milky white skin and waist-length red hair tied back in an elaborate series of braids. Two small antennae rose up from each temple. As with the rest of the crew, he was polite, but he ate very little and spoke even less.

  After the meal, Maldost bashfully asked her to sing for them.

  “Are you sure? I doubt you would know any of the songs that I know,” she said doubtfully.

  He shrugged. “I did not know the song you sang to the slongas, but I enjoyed it.”

  She cast a helpless glance at Cestov, but he only smiled and urged her on. After a quick survey of her repertoire, she started with Jimmy Buffet’s “Son of a Sailor.” She suspected that they would appreciate the sailor analogy and by the second chorus, they were humming along.

  When she finished, all of them snapped their fingers in what seemed to be a round of applause and she laughed. Why had she been so hesitant?

  The rest of the evening passed with her entertaining a very appreciative audience. Even Whovian stayed in the lounge, although she noticed his fingers shaking when he applauded her. For the last song, she sang “What a Wonderful World,” letting the words trickle down into silence. No round of applause this time, just an appreciative silence that meant more than applause ever would.

  “That’s all, gentlemen.”

  “Thank you, Mistress Mariah,” Plovac said gravely. “A most enjoyable evening.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Each of the others thanked her and wandered off, leaving her alone with Cestov. He hadn’t said much throughout the evening, although she was always conscious of his eyes watching her and his tail frequently grazed her wrist or ankle.

  “Was that all right? I didn’t mean to take up the whole evening.”

  “You are very talented, my miri,” he said softly. “I understand why you wish to share that gift with the world.”

  “I love to sing,” she agreed, “but I also spent a lot of time waiting for fame and fortune to come my way.”

  “To be a, what did you call it? A star?”

  “Exactly. Now I’m not so sure if that’s what I really wanted.” She grinned up at him. “Maybe five aliens on a spaceship was my ideal audience all along.”

  “I hope so.” He paused as if he was about to say something else, then shook his head. “Let’s go check on Tajka and the calves.”

  “Are you sure Lilat is the one who chases you?” she teased as she followed him down the stairs. “It seems like you miss her just as much.”

  “It is a different experience, I must admit. She is so small and helpless, but she trusts me.”

  “She knows you’d never hurt her,” she said softly as they reached the pen.

  The fence had been removed but all of the calves were curled up against Tajka’s stomach, her trunk blanketing them. She looked up at them with her big, dark eyes as they approached and lifted her trunk briefly to touch each of them.

  “Good night, Tajka,” Mariah whispered.

  At the top of the stairs, Cestov started towards his cabin, then hesitated.

  “It had not occurred to me until now. This ship is not equipped for passengers. There are no additional cabins.”

  “Do you want me to sleep with the slonga?” she teased.

  “Of course not.”

  He looked so shocked that she relented and lightly patted the tail that was once again around her waist. “I know you wouldn’t do that.”

  He looked at her hand on his tail and his eyes closed. She saw his fist clench and remembered what he had said earlier and snatched her hand away.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Please do not be sorry. It is most… enjoyable. But perhaps a little frustrating.” Before she could respond, he continued, “If you will permit me to get a clean uniform, I will leave you to sleep.”

  “But where are you going to sleep?”

  “In the lounge. There is a bed in the medical lab, but…” He made a face. “I would prefer to avoid it.”

  He followed her silently into the cabin, heading straight for the closet. She looked over at the bed—it was very large. Would she be crazy to suggest that he share it? No, she decided. She had absolutely no concern that he would take advantage of her. If anything, it might be the other way around, she thought ruefully, as he bent over to pick up something and she admired the way his uniform tightened around his butt.

  “You can stay,” she blurted out. “If you want to, I mean.”

  “Are you sure?” he said, spinning around so quickly that she instinctively took a step back.

  ‘Yes. But I’m just offering to let you sleep here. Not anything else.”

  “Of course not.” He looked at the recliner. “I could sleep there if that would make you feel more comfortable.”

  “No, that’s all right. We can share the bed without attacking each other, right?” She hoped.

  “I would never attack you.” His eyes darkened. “I assure you that I have completely different wishes.”

  “That’s the part I’m worried about,” she muttered.

  “My miri, if you are worried about this, I promise you I will be quite comfortable in the lounge.”

  “No, you won’t.” She took a deep br
eath. “Can you lend me a shirt again? To sleep in.”

  “Of course. You are welcome to anything I have.”

  The sincerity in his voice tugged at her. She grabbed the shirt and escaped into the bathroom, then leaned against the door with her eyes closed. How was she supposed to resist him when he said things like that? When he looked at her as if she were the most miraculous thing he’d ever seen?

  Her head and her heart were at war. She wanted to be with him, even though she knew that there was no future between them. She was not at all sure that she would be able to walk away from him with no regrets when the time came, but she suspected she might regret missing this chance just as much. Was it foolish of her? By the time she had brushed her teeth and changed into his shirt, she had reached a decision.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I’ve been thinking,” Mariah said when she emerged from the sanitary facility.

  “Yes?” he said absently, distracted by the sight of her once more attired in his clothing. He found it incredibly satisfying to see her wrapped in his shirt, as if his shirt were a substitute for his arms. Lucky shirt, to be touching all of that soft, tempting flesh. His cock pressed against his pants and his tail flicked back and forth impatiently when he forced himself not to step towards her and gather her in his arms. His body did not appreciate his restraint.

  “Do you remember what I said earlier—about not staying?” she asked.

  “Yes, I remember.” The thought made his chest ache, but he understood. “I honor your commitment to your family.”

  “Umm, yes. But I was also thinking…”

  “Yes?”

  “I want to be with you,” she blurted out. “While I am here.”

  He took one step towards her, then paused. Could he do such a thing? He already dreaded the time when they would part. How much worse would it be if she shared her body with him? He thought about his father, and how his father had faded after his mother’s death. But he had always known that his father would have chosen to have that time with her over living a longer life without her. In the end, it was not a difficult decision.

  “I want to be with you too.”

  She gave him a tentative smile, looking adorably nervous. He walked over and enclosed her in the safety of his arms and tail.

  “There is no hurry, my miri. We can proceed or not—it is for you to decide.”

  She sighed and relaxed against him. “I know I’m being silly, but it’s been a long time.”

  “For me as well. And no other female has ever felt or smelled so right.”

  “Smelled?” She tilted her head back to look up at him, her nose wrinkling.

  “Your scent appeals to me like no other.” He bent down and buried his face in her neck, breathing in the delicious perfume of her skin. Would she taste as wonderful? He took a slow lick and groaned. Oh, yes. Delicious. She shivered in his arms.

  “Does that offend you?”

  “Offend me? No,” she gasped, and he realized that the tantalizing fragrance of her arousal had increased. Beneath the thin covering of his shirt, her nipples resembled hard little gems.

  “Then I shall continue.”

  He pressed his mouth against her neck, experimenting first with his tongue, then with small kisses, and finally a careful scrape of his teeth, until he found all of the places that made her sigh and melt against him. The scent of her arousal grew stronger still, and she began shifting restlessly against him, rubbing the tight points of her nipples against his chest. His tail slipped under her shirt to stroke the soft curves of her buttocks and probe gently into the warmth between her legs. She gave a startled gasp but did not object.

  Lifting her into his arms, he started to carry her to the bed but decided that perhaps his chair would be a better alternative. He did not want her to think that he expected her to give herself to him. As soon as he sat down with her in his arms, she turned towards him.

  “My turn,” she whispered, and before he could respond, her soft lips pressed against his neck. His cock throbbed so intensely he was afraid that he would burst from his pants at the feel of that soft little mouth against his skin. His skin was thicker than hers, of course, but he could feel the warm wetness of her mouth and could only begin to imagine what her luscious cunt would feel like. He covered one breast with his hand, delighting in the tight peak stabbing his palm, and she moaned and pushed into it. He teased the tempting bud of her nipple, then slid his hand between her thighs.

  She parted them so that he could feel for himself the liquid heat of her desire. Gently running his finger between her folds, he found a swollen little button. As soon as he touched it, she cried out and clutched his arms. Ah, a pleasure receptacle. He explored, first circling the small nub, then brushing his finger across the top in slow strokes.

  “Oh, yes,” she whispered as he repeated the movement.

  Her hand tightened on his arm, her whole body tensed, and then she shook with the intensity of her climax before sagging into his arms.

  When Mariah finally found the strength to open her eyes, she expected to find Cestov smiling back at her. Instead, his face was drawn in rigid lines, his eyes blazing. He looked almost as if he were in pain.

  “Cestov, is something wrong?” She realized too late that she had been clutching his tail when he brought her to orgasm. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, my miri,” he said, but she could hear the strain in his voice. “I am attempting to restrain myself.”

  “Restrain yourself? Oh.” She suddenly noticed just how hard his erection felt beneath her—an erection she had been grinding against as she came. As she started to move away, he grabbed her waist, pulling her back against him.

  “Do not leave me. Please.”

  “I’m not going to leave you,” she said quickly. “But perhaps we can make you more comfortable?”

  She fumbled at his pants before giving a frustrated sigh when she realized she had no idea how to open them. “Can you open—”

  Before she could finish speaking, he had freed his erection. The heavy length sprang up between them and her mouth went dry. Long, thick, and covered with the same small nubs as the rest of his skin. She ran a cautious finger down his length, wondering just how that would feel inside her, and he groaned. His tail curved up to circle a nipple, pulling on it with a gentle tug. A moment ago, she had felt completely drained. Now her excitement rose to match his. His spicy scent filled the air and she wondered almost dizzily if he tasted the same way. Precum had beaded on the tip and she ran a finger through the glistening fluid and brought it to her lips.

  “Mmm, you taste delicious.”

  “I am sure you do as well, my miri. May I taste you?”

  That sounded amazing but…

  “Later,” she promised and bent down to lick the tempting drop.

  His hips jerked upwards so quickly that the entire head pushed into her mouth. She thought she heard a muffled apology, but she was too busy exploring his cock to pay attention. The wide head stretched her lips apart, but she still wanted more. She tried to take him deeper as she put her hand around him, or rather tried to put her hand around him since her fingers would not close around the thick length. She stroked upwards as she brought her mouth down and felt his fingers in her hair.

  “If you keep doing that, I will not be able to control myself,” she heard him say, but she was too busy concentrating on the thick length, relishing his exotic taste and the way his body shuddered at her touch.

  She tried to take more of him, opening her mouth and tightening her grip on his shaft, increasing her rhythm until she heard him call out her name as he exploded in long pulses of liquid heat that she swallowed eagerly. When he finally slowed, she raised her head to smile at him, expecting him to be more relaxed. Instead, his face showed even more strain and she realized that the broad shaft in her hand hadn’t softened.

  “I need to be inside you,” he said through gritted teeth.

  She leaned into him, no thought of denial in her mi
nd. “Yes.”

  Cestov swept Mariah up into his arms, carrying her to his bed and stripping his shirt from her impatiently. Despite the need tearing at his insides, he paused for a moment just to admire the sight of her in his bed. Her long hair spread out around her like a silken cloak, accenting the pale perfection of her body—her heavy breasts with the taut pink nipples, the gentle swell of her stomach and hips, the soft little curls between her legs veiling the tempting folds of her cunt.

  She lifted her arms to him, and he gladly went to her, suppressing his need so that he could kiss her and explore more of her luscious little mouth. He could taste himself combined with her sweetness and it made him throb with need. His cock ached but he would not rush her.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” she said, then a startled look crossed her face, and she hesitated. “You don’t have a condom, do you?”

  “A condom?” The word did not translate.

  “To cover your, uh, shaft. To prevent pregnancy.”

  “I’m sorry, my miri. I cannot get you pregnant.” The thought of her, ripe and swelling with his child made his cock jerk. How he wished he could have a child with her.

  “My seed is not fertile until I form a mating bond with a Cire female,” he explained. Something that would never happen, and yet, he had no regrets. He would choose his Mariah over any Cire female.

  She bit her lip. “And disease? Is that an issue?”

  “No. Whovian may not be an ideal medic but he performs regular examinations on all of the crew.”

  “I’m sorry for asking.”

  “Not at all. You are wise to look after your health. Are there any more questions?” he asked patiently, despite the need raging through his body.

  She smiled up at him like the sun rising over the arc of a planet. “No, Cestov. No more questions.”

  He would have liked to think that he didn’t fall upon her like a ravening beast, but he suspected that he would be lying to himself. He devoured her mouth and worshipped her breasts before making his way to his ultimate destination. Parting her legs, he inspected the delicate folds, flushed deep pink and glistening with her arousal. He found the small button at the top of her slit that caused her such pleasure and carefully stroked his finger across it. Her back arched, bringing her closer, and he dropped his head to taste the tempting morsel. By Granthar, he had never known such a pleasure. He licked again, eager to taste every drop of her essence, while his tail came up to explore, first sliding between her lips, then probing at her small entrance. When his tail slipped inside, he groaned at the slick, tight heat. She was so small—could she even take him?