Penny's Protector: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Icehome Book 10)

by Ruby Dixon

  "Got it."

  He gives me another demanding look, as if quietly indignant that I might not have a good time, and returns to his ministrations. And his tongue feels good. He laps and tickles and tastes every inch of me, exploring me with different caresses. Once or twice he nears my clit, moving briefly over it, but not giving it enough attention to light things up. Then, he pushes my folds apart and sweeps his tongue over me from bottom to top.

  And I feel those ridges on his tongue drag over my clit.

  I cry out.

  I expect him to jerk up his head, to give me some sort of triumphant look, but he doesn't. He just gives another low growl and then does the same thing, and I'm fucking squirming so hard under his chin, writhing and pressing up against him as he drags his tongue over my clit again, hard. And again. And again. I'm whimpering, grinding against his mouth and it's like everything in me was tinder that's suddenly caught fire. I'm drenched again, and I want to climb out of my skin with need. He tongues me over and over again, and something about the angle changes and it's less good.

  My grinding slows, and I want to scream with frustration. "I'm losing it, S'bren," I whisper, and I feel like I'm whining.

  "I will find it for you, my P'nee," he promises. “Do not worry.”

  Then he licks me tenderly again, changing the angle, and everything fires up again.

  “Ooh,” I moan when it continues to build. “Just like that. Just like that.”

  “I will prove myself to you,” he tells me between ferocious licks. “I will prove that I am the best provider. The strongest male. The fiercest. That I am the male with the best tongue.” He flicks that tongue in just the right spot that makes my legs jerk reflexively. “I will be the best for you, P’nee.”

  “Just like that,” I echo when he keeps working me. It’s the only thing I can say, because I’m afraid that any variation, any deviance from the phrase, and I’m going to lose the orgasm that’s slowly blossoming in my belly. “Just like that. Just like that.”

  S’bren never stops. He doesn’t stop minutes later, when the orgasm finally crawls to the surface and burns through me like a wildfire. He doesn’t stop when I grab his horns and scream, “Just like that!!” at the top of my lungs. He doesn’t stop when I come, shuddering and quaking, my pussy flooding with the intensity of my release.

  He doesn’t even stop when I’m done. When I’m sighing with contentment and trying to curl up in the bliss of the hardest, best orgasm of my life. He just keeps on licking me, tasting me, coaxing more out of me.

  And my body has more to give. He makes me come again, harder than the first time, dragging his ruthless, ridge-covered tongue over my clit in a fierce rhythm until I collapse under him, sobbing out his name. My body shivers all over and I feel as if I’ve been completely wrung out.

  God. I feel amazing. It wasn’t fast. It wasn’t gentle. But oh my lord, was it good.

  “That is how it should be when you come under my tongue, P’nee,” he tells me.

  I agree. Oh boy, do I agree.

  20

  PENNY

  DAYS LATER

  "So this is the Ancestors' Cave, huh?" I lower my hood and stare at the ice-covered surroundings. The ramp leading into the old ship has been left down so anyone can come inside, and the interior is scattered with debris and a light dusting of snow. There's ice on everything—the walls, the ceiling, the floor—and it hangs down in icicles off of every surface. Underneath all that, I see the occasional electronic light blink against metal paneling.

  It's also eerily silent inside, the large interior of the mostly empty ship quiet and still. I thought we'd be thrilled to get out of the cold after a few more days of travel—and I am—but this place isn't exactly welcoming like the fruit cave was.

  It's just creepy and dead.

  I look over at S'bren, slipping my mittened hand into his. He blinks at his surroundings and then squeezes my hand tighter. "I do not know what to make of this place." He sounds genuinely confused. "It is a cave but…not? And my ancestors came here in this? It flies? Like a bird?"

  "Less like a bird, I think," I say to him, and try to come up with a good comparison. There isn't one. How to explain space travel to someone who lives a primitive existence? I'm not sure I can. I know that S'bren is vaguely aware of technology—Mardok spends all his time working on stuff in his cave and S'bren has seen the components—but I think it's never occurred to him just how overwhelming and complicated this stuff can be. A small red light blinks on a panel near the entrance, and when I lean in, I see there's a lot of writing engraved into the wall, writing that I can't make out. I deliberately take a step back, not wanting to touch anything. The last thing I need is to make this place explode because I hit the wrong button, Bugs Bunny style. "It looks like people camp out in this main area," I say to S'bren, gently steering him forward. "I think this is a cargo space."

  "Car-go?" He echoes. "What is car-go?"

  "Stuff," I say helpfully. "Think of this place as like a big cart where you store things. This room is the supplies hut, except it's empty now."

  "Aaaah," S'bren slides a hand to my shoulder. "Do you wish to stay here tonight?"

  I look at the icicle-crusted entrance, where the wind howls just outside and a fresh round of snow is being pummeled into the ground. "I don't think I want to go back into that."

  "Then we will stay here," S'bren says simply. "I will make you a fire and we can spend our time under the furs together." And he gives me a wicked look.

  I blush.

  I blush a lot lately. I didn't think I had it in me, all this shy embarrassment, but then again, I didn't think I had a lot of things in me, and I'm learning more with every day that passes. Pleasure-mating with S'bren has been an absolute joy. I'm kicking myself for thinking he was weird and awkward, and that I didn't want a relationship with him. Those were days we wasted when we could have been fooling around together. He's the best lover I've ever had, bar none, and all we've done is kiss and he's gone down on me.

  “Gone down on me.” Man, that seems like such a simplistic way of putting it. It's more like "S'bren insists on licking my pussy for hours every night and makes me come until I'm a quivering, delighted mess." Yeah, that sounds better. It's true, too. I've relaxed with him in bed, because now I know that even if it takes forever for me to come, S'bren doesn't mind. He's having a grand time just licking me everywhere and exploring my body with his mouth and fingers. Now that I'm not overthinking things, I come a lot faster. I'm able to stay in the zone when I feel the orgasm starting to build, and S'bren knows just how to chase it down for me. After I come, we kiss and cuddle and then he makes me come again and again, until I'm nothing more than a wrung-out mess of endorphins. I love kissing him, too. I mean, don't get me wrong, the oral is pretty amazing, but the way S'bren kisses just makes me feel…incredible. He kisses like I'm the best thing ever, like I'm the only person he's ever wanted. Like each kiss we share is magical all on its own.

  It makes me feel magical, too.

  I'm living in a happy bubble with him, and not even the intense cold and never-ending snowstorms of the brutal season ruin it for me. I don't mind a day of walking out in the cold, awful blizzards, because I know that at night we'll be tucked close to a warm fire, I'll be in his lap, and he'll hold me so close that I'll feel like the most precious object in the entire universe.

  Now that we're here at the Ancestors' Cave—which is an old, old spaceship—we don't have to move on for a while. We can stay here until we figure out where to go next, provided the weather holds. If it turns into even worse snowstorms than usual, we can hole up here until it gets warm again.

  Warm. Hah. I always thought that the bitter season didn't qualify as “warm” but after experiencing the brutal season first hand? I can't wait for those balmy days of light snow instead of mountains of snow.

  S'bren studies our surroundings, and I watch him, wondering how he views this strange place. After a moment, he points at a row of baskets tu
cked along one wall. "Supplies, just like in the hunter caves. We will make ourselves a fire, eat food, and make ourselves comfortable, yes?"

  I chuckle, because it's just like him to think about my comfort instead of being dazzled by this place. "Don't you want to explore? See what it was like for your ancestors? Look at all the spooky things they left behind?" I mock-tickle the front of his layers of clothing.

  "Perhaps. But right now I would like to get my fragile mate a nice warm fire and feed her some hot tea. I would like to rub her feet because she walked very far today, and then I would like to taste her." He looks down at me, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "It has been far too long since I tasted her."

  "More like six hours," I tease. "We didn't set out until late today." Or the day before. In fact, we've been finding a lot of reasons to take our sweet time in the mornings. It's all about S'bren's constant “wooing” of me. Other than kissing and the occasional caress, I'm not allowed to try and seduce him back. He wants me to realize that he's willing to give me everything I need without asking for anything in return. And while I do think it's the sweetest gesture possible, I'm also aching to pleasure him back. I know he has to be full of need. I know he aches when we're done every night. The proof of it pushes against my hip every time we go to bed together. But he ignores it, and he won't let me take care of it for him.

  That can wait for our wedding, he tells me.

  To think that I'm going to get married on a primitive beach. To an alien, no less.

  To think that I'm so starry-eyed and delighted at the thought. I am, though. I love the thought of taking vows in front of the tribe, declaring love to S'bren in front of everyone and having a celebration for our union. It's not the same as a massive human wedding, of course. There's no veil, no dress, no cake, no family to walk me down the aisle, but the excitement and the joy is there.

  Happy marriages have been built on less. So I'm definitely looking forward to the marriage part…but I'm in no hurry to return back to the Icehome beach encampment otherwise. I miss my friends, sure. I'd love to be able to talk to Nadine or chat with Harlow and Gail by the main fire. I'm curious what new shenanigans are going on with Bridget and A'tam, who seem to be constant drama. But…I'm also a little scared about heading back. I don't want to return to the camp and suddenly resonate to another. I don't want S'bren to take one look at Raven, or Flor, or Steph, and suddenly resonate to someone else. Neither of us has had anything close to a pang of resonance since running off together, and I worry that means we aren't meant for each other. I worry our cooties are saving us for someone else.

  And…I don't want anyone else.

  I want S'bren.

  I don't share my fears with him, though. I just smile up at him as if everything's peachy. "Shall we get started on a fire?"

  "I shall start a fire," he declares, steering me toward a rock-lined circle in the center of the cargo bay floor. It has a thin layer of ash at the bottom and a few large rocks scattered nearby to sit on. "You shall rest your tiny feet and your many, many toes."

  I laugh, because sometimes he can be so ridiculous. "I can help with the fire."

  "You can, but I will not let you." He steers me toward one of the seats. "I will take care of my mate. It is a proper hunter's task, and I have yet to finish proving myself to you."

  It's a tease between us, that word “prove.” He's “proved” himself to me multiple times a night every night since that first mind-melting orgasm he gave me. Instead of sitting down, though, I climb atop the rock and turn to face him. "How about you just kiss me instead?"

  S'bren needs no persuading. His arms go around my waist and he hauls me against him. Standing atop the rock, I'm a good foot or so taller, and at this height, I'm at just the right stature to kiss him without him having to stoop over. I grin as I curl my arms around his neck and lean in, letting my lips lightly play over his. "Hi there," I whisper.

  "Ho," he murmurs, which is the traditional greeting of his people, but still makes me giggle madly. It sounds like he's calling me a “ho” and it cracks me up every time. "You are not supposed to laugh when your mate greets you," he chastises me, but he's grinning.

  "I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing with you," I reassure him, and brush my lips over his. It's the lightest whisper of a kiss, ticklish and soft, and I let out a little sigh of pleasure, leaning in. He takes over the kiss, keeping it light and playful, his lips caressing mine and occasionally nipping at my mouth. It's an endless tease, the best kind of foreplay, and when he finally locks a hand at the back of my head and claims my mouth with a deep, sweeping drag of his tongue against mine, I nearly turn into a puddle. God, he's got a great tongue.

  S’bren gives a low groan and then nips at my lower lip again. “I could kiss you all night.”

  Oh, he absolutely could. I know that for a fact now. “But then who will make the fire?” I tease.

  He sighs heavily. “You are right. My mate’s comfort comes first.”

  We part with a reluctant, shared look. It’s harder and harder for me to resist this man. Everything about him appeals to me—his smile, his laugh, his protectiveness. I’ve absolutely got a case of puppy love and I’m hoping it’s turning into the real thing. It’s soon, I know, but I’m the kind of girl to jump in head-first anyhow.

  S’bren gets to work on the fire pit and I try to help him, but he makes a few outraged noises and takes the supplies out of my hands when I try, so I give up and wander the “cave” aka the cargo bay. Even though it’s advanced technology, it all looks puzzlingly foreign to me. Like something out of a sci-fi movie, except weirder. There’s an entire panel of small lights, scrolling text and small buttons, but I make no effort to break the icicles off and test anything.

  I’m headstrong, yes. Dumb enough to push a strange button? No.

  But I do spot something that looks vaguely familiar and calls to my adventurous spirit. “There’s doors back here in the shadows, S’bren,” I call out eagerly. “Let’s see where they go!”

  “P’nee,” he calls out warningly, and I can hear the faint sound of the strikers as he makes the fire. “Do not go anywhere without me—”

  “I won’t go far,” I promise him, wedging my way through the crack in the permanently open pair of doors. “I just want to see what’s over here.”

  "P'nee," he calls after me again as I step into a dark, shadowy hallway.

  Wow, this really is like something out of a horror movie. I touch one wall, fascinated. It's metal but it doesn't feel coated with ice like the other room is. Curious, I take my glove off and touch it, and yup, it's cold but I don't stick to it. Coated with something, then? I guess it'd make sense for space travel, not that I'm an expert on that sort of thing. There's a lot of debris in the hall, though, and as I look around, I make out holes in the ceiling with ancient wires and cords hanging down, metal bits and debris tossed all over the floor, and broken things everywhere. There's also something that looks like a door, though I have to squint in the inadequate light.

  "Hey, babe, can you—" I turn around and bellow, only to practically run into S'bren's chest. I squeak, falling backward against the wall, and a cloud of dust falls from the ceiling into my hair. Coughing, I wave a hand in front of my face. "I didn't see you there."

  He takes my hand and helps me straighten, then dusts me off. "I followed you. I had visions of my mate falling through a hole of some kind, never to be seen again. This place is not safe to wander around in, my mate. Stay close to me."

  "I just want to take a look," I tell him, excited at the thought. "Can we get a torch and have a look around? Please?"

  With a sigh, S'bren points at the floor. "Stay right here. I will return quickly."

  "Right here. I promise."

  And I do stay in the same spot. Mostly. I might move a step or two forward, but just because I want to peer in through the nearest door. It's broken, and it looks as if it once slid into the wall but got stuck about halfway through. Inside there's a clutter of object
s, but nothing that screams of personal things. There's no old pictures of family, no books, no clothes, nothing that gives a personality to these long ago people. If there was something here, it was taken long ago.

  S'bren returns a moment later with a flickering bone, an old bit of leather wrapped around the burning end. It smells like a cross between burning hair and fried chicken, but it gets the job done well enough. With a beaming smile, I drag S'bren after me and we go exploring through the rooms.

  It's clear that I'm the curious one, not S'bren. He seems more focused on keeping me safe, his hand on my shoulder at all times, and gently steering me clear of holes in the floor or metal bits that jut too far out of the wall. The first floor is pretty much picked through, much to my disappointment. We turn down a hall and there's a hole in the ceiling, though, and when S'bren holds his torch up, it looks like another room.

  "Can you lift me up there?" I ask him.

  "No." He sets his jaw, stubborn as a mule.

  "Can't or won't?"

  "Will not."

  "What if I give you a kiss?"

  He snorts. "You will give me a kiss anyhow."

  "What if I give you three kisses? Or five? Five's a good number." I do my best to look appealing.

  "It might not be safe, P'nee—"

  "Seven kisses, and one of them on your dick. That's my final offer," I say cheerily, then point at the ceiling. "Now lift me up, S'bren. I just want to peek in."

  He sighs heavily, and then hands me the torch and makes a step with his hands. "You never want to 'just' peek in," he mutters. "It is always more."

  "Not if it's boring," I promise him, and step onto his laced hands. He immediately lifts me up, bracing my legs against the hard wall of his chest so I don't wobble, and I hold the torch up. It's another hall with more rooms. I set the torch down on the floor and grip the edge of the hole. "I think I can get up here. Can you push me a bit higher?"

  S'bren growls, but he does as I ask and a moment later, I have the torch in my hand again and I'm looking around at another floor of rooms. Several of the doors are shut and sealed fast, and there are no blinking lights. One at the far end of the hall has an opening, though, and I head toward it.