Broken

by Presley Hall

  So I reach up instead, threading my fingers through his hair. The dark strands run through my fingers like water, soft and silky. Curious, I tentatively reach up to touch the base of his horns, stroking my fingertips around them, and feel him shudder when I do. The groan that comes from him this time sounds almost pained… but it’s full of desire too.

  I pull my fingers away as if he’s burned me, but I don’t stop kissing him. Unable to stop touching him, I trace the lines of his face. The sharp cheekbones, the angled jaw, the long, straight nose. I run my hand down his neck, then over his shoulder, and Brele moans again, gasping against my mouth.

  His hand drifts down my waist as his lips move to my ear. The tip of his tongue outlines the shell of it as he lets his fingers slide down my flat abdomen, only inches away from where I’m aching for him to touch me. He takes the lobe of my ear between his teeth, and the bolt of arousal that shoots through me is enough for me to buck against him, my body touching his momentarily.

  I feel his cock press against my stomach for a brief moment, and my eyes fly wide.

  Holy shit, he’s huge.

  My body stiffens a little, and his hand goes still for a second. But the movement of my hips and my urgent whimper are enough to tell him that I don’t want him to stop. Not yet.

  His lips move down to my jaw and then my throat, and his tongue slides down the column of my neck gently. The tip of it traces patterns along my skin as his hand moves downward.

  My body feels like a quivering pulse now, my skin hot and tight, every part of me throbbing and aching. I’ve never needed to come so badly in my life, and as he presses his lips against my throat at the same time his fingers drift a little lower, I can’t take it any longer.

  “Please,” I whisper. “Please. Oh fuck, please.”

  Part of me is grateful he can’t understand the words or their meaning, although I’m sure my tone is enough to tell him what I want… what I need.

  His lips tighten on my neck, sucking gently at the flesh as he presses a finger against me, and he groans aloud when he feels how wet I am, his finger sinking into my channel. I arch my hips against his hand, needing more, but he holds me there in his grasp, gently working my arousal into a frenzy as he trails a string of sucking bites down my throat, nipping and licking.

  I feel two of his fingers slide into me as he presses the heel of his hand down harder, coming into contact with my clit. The feeling of it is so intense that I yelp and grind against him. I’m even more wet now, and he seems to love it, his fingers moving faster as he groans again, pushing me right up to the breaking point.

  And then I hurtle over the edge.

  Every muscle in my body contracts and releases as I come hard. He kisses me as he rides me through it, his mouth and hand working in tandem to give me the best orgasm of my life. The only thing I’ve ever felt like it is the one he gave me yesterday. My hips buck and grind against his fingers as I clutch the back of his head and hold his mouth hard against mine, squirming against his muscular body.

  The ripples of pleasure wash over me in waves. My breath comes in choppy gasps as he keeps going, and when our lips finally break apart, I feel him press against me, the hardness of his cock throbbing against my hip.

  Even as my core throbs rhythmically, coming down from the intensity of the orgasm, I’m still hungry for more.

  I’m about to reach over and pull Brele all the way on top of me, desperate to feel the weight of him between my thighs, when reality comes rushing in again like a freight train.

  This is the second time in less than twenty-four hours that I’ve let an alien man give me a toe-curling orgasm—and both times, I was the one who initiated things. I’ve never been particularly shy about sex, and I’m not opposed to one-night stands. But sleeping with an actual alien after crash-landing in his backyard is literally on an entirely different planet than a normal one-night stand.

  I freeze, my body stiffening as my earlier rush of pleasure is replaced by embarrassment and anger at myself.

  What the fuck are you doing, Jade?

  11

  Brele

  I stare down at Jade in silence as I withdraw my hand from her wetness, trying hard to master myself. My body is still flushed with arousal, my heart pounding with it, but I couldn’t miss the change in her as she tensed beneath me just now.

  Only a moment ago, I felt my mate climax for the second time since I met her, and the sensation of her body clenching around my fingers was almost enough to drive me mad.

  And now, a chasm has opened up between us.

  Again.

  Her eyes shine in the darkness as her body goes stiff beside mine. I can see the confusion and conflict in her shadowed expression.

  She feels the connection between us, I’m certain of it. The mate bond pulls at her as strongly as it does me. But for some reason, she can’t let herself give in to it. She can’t stop resisting me, or the bond.

  Never in my life have I wished so much that I’d paid more attention when it came to learning about the customs of other planets. Not that my tutor spent much time teaching us about Terra. Their isolationism and refusal to accept the existence of alien species means that they are largely ignored by other planets. But still, knowing something about their customs and ways would help me now. I want to woo Jade, to soothe her and make her feel comfortable with me. I can tell she’s unsure of what’s happening, and I want to ease her worries. But I don’t know how Terrans go about wooing their mates.

  I half expect her to leap from the bed or throw me out, but she doesn’t. Instead, she clears her throat and rolls onto her side, facing away from me. I can make out the curve of her form in the darkness as she settles back onto the mattress, and there’s something so vulnerable about her in this moment that I feel an overwhelming need to protect her—even though I’m not sure from what.

  Shifting a little closer, I gently curl my body around hers, and the breath I’m holding releases when I feel her move a little closer to me, snuggling slightly into my arms. The movement of her naked body against mine causes her backside to inadvertently rub against my achingly hard cock, and the simple motion lights my blood on fire.

  I grit my teeth and resist the urge to grasp her hip and grind myself against her, resigning myself to simply hoping that my erection recedes.

  Jade tenses again for a moment as she feels my cock throb against her, the tip of it pressed against the base of her spine. If she tried to leave my embrace, I would let her, but she seems to be fighting some internal battle with herself rather than struggling against me. So I don’t move, simply holding her gently as she makes up her mind.

  And then, slowly, her body relaxes against mine.

  She settles against me as naturally as if her body were made to fit with mine, and I feel her sink into sleep as her breathing becomes soft and regular. It’s as if in this state, her mind is finally able to stop fighting her body, and she lets herself get as close to me as she truly wants to.

  In sleep, I think to myself as my body relaxes against hers as well, her soul recognizes mine too.

  For a long time, I simply hold her, breathing in her sweet scent and luxuriating in the feel of her skin against mine, the brush of her soft hair against my cheek, the solidity of her in my arms. It’s been so long since I’ve held anyone like this, since I’ve felt the touch of another being. I feel as if I’m being renewed somehow, a part of me that died coming slowly back to life.

  I need to do something, I realize in a sudden rush of clarity. I need to be able to speak with my Irisa. There must be some way.

  My determination grows as an idea takes shape in my mind. Excitement runs through me like a current as I drift to sleep beside her.

  Tomorrow, gods willing, I will speak to my Irisa.

  And she will understand me.

  I wake before Jade does in the morning, pulling myself away from her regretfully so that I can go bathe and prepare food for us both before she wakes.

  As we eat our bre
akfast of bread, fruit, and more smoked meat, she doesn’t quite look me in the eye. I can tell she’s still tense and wary, but she also looks well-rested and the healthiest that she has since I found her. The healing seems to be complete. She looks to be completely recovered from her injuries, which is a relief. There was a time while she was in the pod when I wasn’t sure if she would pull through.

  After we finish the morning meal, I stand up slowly and gesture for her to follow me to the door, gathering up the weapons hanging on the wall next to it as I do. She hesitates for a moment, then gets up and follows me, although every muscle in her body seems primed to run if necessary as we make our way outside.

  I lead her through the woods to the crash site where the Orkun ship is still lying among the broken trees and crushed underbrush.

  When we reach it, Jade skids to a stop behind me. I turn to see her standing there tense and wary, her eyes fixed on the ship with distrust. I wince, realizing that she must remember more of what happened on the vessel than I thought she would. And of course those memories are bad ones. I hate that I had to bring her back here, but this is the only place where there might be a solution to the problem of us communicating.

  Gently, as if soothing a skittish animal, I reach out and touch Jade’s arm the way I did last night. She flinches a little but doesn’t pull away, and I run my hand down her arm soothingly.

  “It’s all right,” I tell her, although I know she can’t understand me. “No one will hurt you again. All the Orkun on the ship are dead, and I’ll never let another one near you, Jade.”

  The sound of her name on my lips seems to reassure her, and she relaxes a fraction. I leave her there at the edge of the ruined ship, ducking inside the hull to look for what I’ve come here to find.

  I’m willing to bet that the Orkun scum planned to insert an MLI—a multi-language implant—into Jade once their capture of her was complete. It doesn’t take me much time scavenging through the supply hold to find it, packaged in a small protective shell. I hold it gingerly, my pulse speeding up as I realize how close I am to being able to communicate with my Irisa.

  But I need one for myself too. My own is long gone.

  There’s only one way for that to happen, since there’s only one packaged MLI on board.

  With determination and only a slight feeling of nausea, I approach the dead Orkun’s body. I don’t give myself too much time to think about what I’m doing as I pull my long knife out of the sheath on my belt, and without hesitation, drive it into the Orkun’s skull.

  There’s a certain satisfaction to it, despite him being dead already, that distracts me from how disgusting my task is. I work quickly, not wanting to leave Jade outside alone for too long, and when the device is at last in my hand, I smile with satisfaction.

  I hate the idea of having any Orkun tech inside my body ever again. But it doesn’t matter to me as much as it once might have.

  Anything is worth being able to talk to my Irisa at last.

  12

  Jade

  You should run.

  Of course you shouldn’t run, who knows what’s out there? You don’t have any weapons, and…

  I argue with myself as Brele disappears inside the wrecked ship, shifting my weight from foot to foot as I debate whether to run or not. He’s distracted right now, whatever he’s doing in there. Now that I’m wearing real clothes—and most importantly, my boots—I could put a good bit of distance between us. Maybe even enough that he wouldn’t catch up or find me.

  But is that what I want?

  The practical part of me says that running off into unknown woods without weapons or much in the way of clothing or any knowledge of the landscape is foolish. But there’s another part of me too, one that I don’t want to examine too closely, that wants to stay for entirely different reasons.

  Reasons that all come down to Brele.

  I know from what I heard on the Orkun ship that the Orkun and the Kalixians are enemies. That helps ease my anxiety a little—at least in terms of staying with Brele for now.

  The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?

  Brele doesn’t seem to want to harm me, and if I could find some way to communicate to him that the Orkun might have my friend…

  I might even be able to convince him to help me find Emma, if only I could speak to him.

  The Orkun must have had some sort of translator device, I think as I chew on my lower lip thoughtfully. I could understand them.

  Does Brele have something like that? Obviously not, or he would’ve used it already. Maybe the Kalixians are less technologically advanced than my initial captors? Brele’s house has some impressive tech, like the pod I woke up in yesterday. I’m pretty sure he used that to heal me, which is mind-blowing considering how bad the crash was. But I’m not sure how advanced they are in comparison to what I saw on the Orkun ship.

  But even if I can’t speak to him, my instinct is that it’s better to stay here for now. Just until I can figure out where I am, what I should do to get back home… and how I might be able to find Emma.

  A noise draws my attention, and I glance over at the ship to see Brele emerging. The sight of him is enough to momentarily halt my whirling thoughts. The sunlight strikes his bronze skin and tattoos, glinting off the ridged muscles in a way that makes my mouth go dry and my stomach clench.

  He’s fucking gorgeous.

  There’s no other way to put it. He’s more strikingly handsome than any human man I’ve ever seen, celebrities and movie stars included, and I can’t tear my gaze away from him.

  I let my gaze trail over him, just for a second, enjoying the sight of his muscled form like a dessert I know I shouldn’t have.

  And that’s when I see the blood on his hands.

  It coats his fingers, dark and slick, and his hands are clenched into fists, holding something in each palm.

  I tense again. What the hell was he doing in there?

  He notices my reaction and smiles reassuringly at me. He says something that I can’t understand, of course, but I can tell from his tone that he’s trying to placate me, to keep me from running off again. It’s mildly annoying and sweet all at once, and I wish I could inform him that I plan to stay put—for now, anyway. But instead, I just follow him back to the house, trying not to stare as I walk behind him.

  When we reach the cabin, he goes into the bathing room to clean his hands, and when he comes back out, he motions for me to follow him. Slowly, I walk into the room where he keeps the healing pod, then stop dead in my tracks as I see what he’s brought me in here to show me. I didn’t notice it last time I was in here. I was a little distracted.

  There’s a robotic arm attached to the wall, like something straight out of a sci-fi movie. It looks a bit patched together, as if he built it himself.

  I’m not sure whether to be afraid or impressed… so I go with a little of both.

  He gives me another reassuring smile before holding out his hand so that I can see what he brought back from the ship. It’s a small, chip-like device, hexagonal in shape and a shiny black color. He gestures to the arm, then places the chip into a small slot at the end of it, squatting down as he presses a button to activate the arm’s mechanism.

  What the fuck?

  I watch him, fascinated and horrified all at once as the mechanism reaches out and makes a small incision at the base of his neck. If it hurts, he doesn’t show it, and it seems to cauterize it instantly.

  I almost run.

  This is insane, I think, but I can’t seem to make my feet move.

  It’s like watching a science fiction movie in real time, and I can’t tear myself away. My curiosity wins out, and I watch as the process continues. There’s no blood, and a second later, a small probe extends from the slot and slips inside the incision. A whirring noise comes from the arm.

  A second later, the robotic arm withdraws and clicks back into its original position, and Brele turns to me with a triumphant smile on his face. He gestures to me, c
learly indicating that I should go next.

  I don’t know quite what he just had implanted—what he wants me to get implanted—and logic tells me I should rip the robotic arm off the wall before I let it get anywhere near my head. This is like accepting an unknown drink from a stranger at a party, except a thousand times more dangerous.

  But if Brele wanted to hurt me, he could’ve done it already. He’s had plenty of opportunity, but all he’s ever done is take care of me and try to protect me. I’ve initiated all of the kisses we’ve shared, as embarrassing as it is to admit.

  Whatever this thing is, I don’t think it will cause me harm.

  So I shove down the fear that’s twisting a knot in my stomach and give him a small nod.

  “Okay,” I say, my voice tight. “I get it.”

  Holding my breath, I step forward and position myself in front of the robotic arm.

  There must be some sort of anesthetic in it or something, because all I feel is a sharp sting and nothing more, not what I would have expected from an implant being inserted into me. I can vaguely feel the sensation of the probe sliding it in, but nothing else. I hold myself very still, hardly breathing, trying not to think too much about what’s currently moving around inside the base of my neck.

  And then I feel the arm slide back and hear the whir of it clicking back into place.

  “There,” Brele says with satisfaction. “All done.”

  I start to raise a hand to feel the spot where the device was implanted, then freeze. My eyes widen, and I whip my head around as his words register.

  “I… I understood that!” I gape at him, my heart leaping. “That—you—I can understand you now!”

  He smiles at me, his eyes burning with something I can’t quite identify. “Yes. It’s a multi-language implant. I retrieved these from the ship in order for us to be able to talk to one another. I used the one from the Orkun body, as I thought you might be more… squeamish about that. The one I gave you was clean, in the original packaging from the maker. The Orkun would have implanted it in you, most likely, if the ship hadn’t crashed.”