He was not her flenta marl, she was not his tersa blay and they wouldn’t have to give their Tersa Tragyard for years and years, if they were careful. Which at that moment, sounded very, very good. But all of it rested on if he could make her agree to it…which he didn’t think would be much of a problem.
If she balked, he’d just find the English words to explain she knew he wasn’t her ‘cherished groom’ any more than she was his ‘sweet bride’ which meant they wouldn’t have to verbalize the ancient statement of their ‘sweet sealing’. The iron-clad, can’t-get-out-of speech which would tie them together for the rest of their lives.
Something he would fight to the death not to say until there was no way out of it.
Until they were caught at the last inescapable moment when he’d be required to commit his life to just one female.
To hers.
Wiping his hands on his jeans, Wyst nodded in emphasis, never realizing he spoke aloud. “And no one, not on Earth or from the worlds of Picari, can make me say those words until I’m ready.”
*.*.*.*.*
One minute I’d been outside on the stairs, snogging the freaking hell out of Wyst and the next I found myself on the bed staring up at him, all remnants of our passion long gone. I tried to make sense of the missing moments and hoped he could provide some clarification but he looked as confused as I felt. “What happened?”
He shifted his weight and I realized he was straddling me, his weight on his knees but holding me in place at my hips nonetheless. “Why are you sitting like that?”
Swinging a leg aside, he came to rest by planting his ass next to me and took one of my hands. “I, uhm. I think you fainted, pixie.”
Fainted? Me? I’d only passed out once in my life and that’d been the first time I’d seen Rykhan’s wahrom in Urgent Care and been shocked at how much it looked like Leah’s. To my knowledge, before everything had gone wonky, Wyst and I were making out on the porch before we went inside.
And I’d never heard of a girl fainting from too much pleasure. That was my last memory before the lights went out—about how amazing it felt to kiss him, how much I wanted to get to the bed and what I was going to do to him once I got him there. Nothing to make me lose my mind over, except in a very good way. So I asked him again, trying to make my question clearer. “What caused me to faint?”
He seemed to avoid my eyes and I saw a ruddy color hit his cheeks. “I’m not sure. We were kissing and then you, uhm, fainted.”
Something stank in Denmark and it sure wasn’t me or my reaction to my memories. “Bullshit. You know something and you’re not telling me.”
If I had my doubts about his truthfulness before, the way he abruptly stood and moved to the far side of the room confirmed it. I rolled to my side and sat up in order to glare at him from a more dignified position. “What the hell happened, Wyst?”
He didn’t answer right away and I let my eyes do a slow roaming assessment of his face and posture looking for clues. Catching me staring, red again bloomed in his cheeks and he turned his back to me. “I don’t know. We were kissing outside the door and then you went limp. I carried you inside, but couldn’t rouse you.”
I narrowed my eyes into a squint as if that would help provide the missing pieces to the puzzle. “So I fainted right when things were getting good. Is that what you’re telling me?”
Rubbing the back of his neck, I heard him mutter a soft, “yes” that didn’t sound very convincing. In fact, it sounded pretty damn guilty to my ears. But before I could address it, he went to some weird, wiry contraption by the door and fiddled with it, sending my attention a different direction.
“What’s that?”
“A rudimentary security system,” he mumbled. “To prevent Ms. Myrtle from accessing the room.”
Good to know and once I was able to think with all six cylinders, I’d get all the deets on his crazy-assed invention. But the reality was, I was too tired and shaky to deal with anything more than getting ready for bed. “Listen babe, I’m sorry to be such a dick-tease but do you mind if we do the sexy stuff another time?”
His glance flicked to me and his eyebrows drew together. “Actually, I am uncertain we should share sex again while on our mission.”
Say what?
Did he mean what I thought he meant?
Standing to his full height, he crossed his arms on his chest and took a wide stance. Something Leah and I tended to call the ‘warrior pose’ which meant he’d made up his mind about whatever and no amount of arguing was gonna change it. “Excuse me?”
“Our responsibilities are far too important to allow the desire between us to split our focus.” He gave me a long stare before continuing. “All of our attention must remain on our goal if we are to successfully complete the mission.”
“Are you saying no sex until we reach South Dakota?” The incredulity in my voice was hard to miss.
“Yes.”
He couldn’t be serious! And me, being me, just had to test him on it. “So does that mean I can’t have sex at all or only with you? Because me screwing around with someone else wouldn’t mess up our focus, would it? As long as one of us keeps our eye on the ball, we’ll succeed, right?”
“You will not share sex with another male.” He seemed pretty damn confident, which almost sounded like an order or, even worse, a challenge.
“So you’re telling me I can’t do the nasty at all? Just where the freak do you get off, ass-hat!” I shot to my feet and stormed to where he stood, getting all up in his face. “Let me tell you a few things, you…you…you stupid alien. You aren’t my dad, my boss and definitely not the commander of this little undertaking. So you don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do. Who I can and can’t take to bed for a little bit of fun. Understand?”
His face was a study, one emotion chasing the other as I yelled up at him and would’ve probably made me laugh if I wasn’t so goddamn mad. Using my forefinger, I jabbed it into the middle of his chest. “You don’t want to do me again? Once was enough? Freaking fine by me, mister-man. Suit yourself!”
Turning on a heel, I snatched a nightshirt out of the drawer and marched to the bathroom. And it infuriated the shit outta me when the asshole only repeated himself in reply to all my freaking questions.
“You will not fracking share sex with another male.” Although the second time it came out of his mouth, it was done on roar.
A very loud roar I thought held a tinge of frustration.
My reply to his effing edict was a satisfying and equally loud door slam.
Chapter Seventeen
I’d gone to sleep hugging the farthest edge of my side of the mattress, pissed as all hell. But I didn’t wake up there. Instead I found myself on his side of the bed, draped across a hard, cut and beautifully warm alien body, dammit.
Even after our war of words the night before, my sleeping body somehow betrayed me by cozying up to the shithead. Don’t get me wrong, it felt good…but also wrong. Especially after his pronouncement of the night before. Rendered in some kind of deep, dark, growly voice like Moses must’ve spoken in when relating the ten commandments to the masses. ‘Thou shalt not have sex.’
I mean, who the eff says that to another person?
But I don’t care if it’s alien-to-human, alien-to-alien or human-to-human, that shit doesn’t pass your lips, no matter what the freak is going down. Although I totally got what he was trying to achieve and would even admit the chemistry between us kinda took my mind off of worrying about Leah and the impending birth of the half-human, half-Picari baby she was carrying.
The one Wyst and I were supposed to be racing our asses to South Dakota in order to help delivery and keep safe.
Even about getting the car fixed.
But that was the point, right? Doing the ol’ bump-and-grind took a person out and away from whatever it was they were facing (like, traveling with someone you couldn’t stand) while reducing your internal tension, at least for a little while.
/> But he’d announced sex was off the table. Had demanded I not only resist from doing it with him but any other guy until, like, Leah gave birth or something.
Yeah.
Right.
And as if my body needed to make a point, there was me in that waking moment all but sprawled over him and his luscious body. One I knew could thrill and tease before taking me right to heaven’s door. And beyond into a bliss I’d only ever dreamed of having. Leaving me to question not only my sanity, but the throb beating between my legs even as I tried to deny my body’s reactions.
To curse my legs straddling his thigh as his hand, even in sleep, played with the pink, pinnacled peak of my breast underneath my nightshirt.
Wyst shouldn’t be tweaking my boob.
Or allowing me to rub my nether regions against his muscled thigh even as he lifted his butt off the mattress to stroke his goddamn hard-on over my hip-bone. Anymore than I should enjoy the zing of pleasure that his stroking caused in certain, sensitive places. Not after the way he’d shut me down the night before. Issuing edicts like he was a goddamned pharaoh and I was an effing slave.
To say his moves, especially when compared with his freaking ‘laws of behavior’, pissed me off didn’t even begin to describe the angry shit-storm burning inside.
Even while my body sang a different tune.
I pushed at his wandering hands and turned over onto my other side, scooching over, far enough away so I could place a good amount of distance between us. But the rat-bastard didn’t stick to his sprawled-on-back position for long, because it wasn’t but a few moments and he curled himself against my back. The fact he tucked his dick in the crack of my butt while cupping my topmost breast?
Yeah.
No.
That position wasn’t gonna work for me either.
Please, mica jain. I don’t know what his dreams were, but they sure as hell weren’t mine. Let me in to your beautifully built body.
No, Wyst. I didn’t know if he could receive my thoughts in his sleep as much as I heard his, but he was the one who’d said we absolutely weren’t gonna do the nasty again, no matter how wonderful our first go round had been.
Because we had a goddamn mission to complete and sex would only complicate the matter.
My ass.
After shedding a few tears in the shower, I wondered if it wasn’t only the mission which made him push me away (a fact that still made my insides ache at the memory). I’d finally figured it out as I’d toweled off and donned a fresh set of underwear after taking the longest shower in the history of mankind.
Could it be because Wyst wanted Dani as his next partner?
He’d obviously lied about what they’d said to each other when they met because there was no way in hell a simple greeting carried that much restrained emotion.
Yeah, bullshit to that!
I’d been there to witness that long look they’d shared; to actually see the flare of attraction between them at the introductions I’d given. And I wasn’t gonna be anybody’s substitute lover whether they were asleep or awake, that was for damn sure!
Get off me, big guy.
In a move I didn’t consider possible considering it was done accompanied by light snoring, he raised a muscled thigh and pushed my legs apart, his cock sliding against the gusset of my panties.
Which were shamefully wet, giving too much evidence my mind and body were definitely not in agreement about what we were doing. Especially when he started to nibble on my shoulder, using his chin to move my hair as his mouth moved closer to my neck.
I need you, leca pixie.
Christ! What was it about the big, stupid alien that caused my body to ache to feel him inside me again? I shifted my hips in alleged protest of his actions, but it only aligned us better.
And made us both groan.
His hand, which had again been performing a firm squeeze and twist of my t-shirt covered nipple, moved southward skimming over my exposed belly until it cupped my mound. Making my traitorous hips buck and my breath to sputter.
“Stop, Wyst.” I’d meant to voice my request as a demand, to sound firm and decisive enough to break into his sleep, but what escaped from my lips was only a breathy sigh that sounded suspiciously like a sexual moan of coy encouragement. I covered his exploring fingers with my own in the hopes of stilling them, but damn if I didn’t press down and rock against them in order to create even more of the friction I craved.
Then he did it.
Made the move, or should I say moves, which totally exposed exactly what our bodies sought to have happen.
His fingers reached for the elastic of one of the leg openings of my panties and pulled the fabric aside as he turned me slowly, fully onto my stomach. And the shit of it was, during the whole of his repositioning, his body never disconnected from me, but only shifted to remain in contact with mine. Without hesitation, I caught my weight on my knees and elbows while lifting my ass higher.
Somehow and in some way, all my mental protests died an early death as the hunger between my thighs became a voracious need.
A need I had no strength to deny.
*.*.*.*.*
Gyed, but he was having the best sleep session ever. One where his arms, his fracking hands were filled with the woman of his dreams as his tailpor reached for her wet cavern again and again pressing against the firmness of her body, seeking to delve into what he knew were her hot, wet depths.
Then she escaped and the dream morphed into one of him walking alone in full gear on Brate, the lonely, empty planet between Nutrol and Ater and Castic. The sound and smell of his breath in tune with his heavy steps in the thick gravity.
He’d hated his time on Brate.
So he’d turned his body and flipped the pillow to a cooler side, never gaining full wakefulness as he tucked himself into the warmth and softness lying just inches from where he laid.
Better, his mind sighed and he again drifted down into sleep only to find another dream waiting, this one much more erotic than the one before. Warm soft skin and deep curves met his questing fingers and added another layer to his dream of holding a lively and responsive human female against him. Frack, but he loved the feel beneath his hands; one of all hills and valleys, as if fashioned solely for his hands alone.
And soft?
He’d never experienced anything so pliant in any of his journeys. So supple yet so quick to respond he couldn’t resist carrying out moves he’d learned by watching vids of the human sex act while onboard the Searcher. Then there were sounds of pleasure as he used his hips to stroke himself against her while cupping and kneading the soft skin of his dream-partner. Moves of erotic desire, making his tailpor throb and weep with the need to find himself again encased in the tight, wet heat his pixie held within her.
Wait.
What?
Or rather, who?
When he came to full consciousness, Wyst found himself curled around her back, his knees on the inside of hers as his fingers caressed the sodden split between her legs even as his tailpor pressed into the heated creaminess of her core. The naked, sweet wetness of her as his other fingers held back the fabric in order to enjoy the sweet dew of her slit was the stuff of his imaginations he’d only let loose as he took his solitary satisfaction when alone.
And that was all it took for him to twist her body to a more prone position as the lusty need scored through him. A flame so captivating he couldn’t ignore it and neither could she as her body twisted to present herself to him.
Rising up on to his knees, Wyst stared at the twin globes of her ass as his tailpor bobbed and leaked, eyeing the pink of her moist, swollen leaves even as she reared her hips up into position.
By all of Gyed’s holy veils, there was no way in posket he could resist the siren call of what she offered, especially not in his vulnerable, half-sleepy state. I’m going to join with you, pixie, he warned along their mental thread, even as his mind remembered bits of words they’d shared when he’d been deep in h
is slumber.
I know, babe.
And that was all the approval Wyst needed before ripping the scrap of lace from around her hips down and off her spread knees as he shoved his underwear down, baring his maleness in order to prod the chute of her core. And once in place, he didn’t hesitate to press in, sheathing himself in one long, arduous stroke. A move that found his mouth verbalizing their joining in a long, soul-deep, “Ahh.”
The fact she reared back, forcing him deeper only added to the swirling pleasure surrounding him.
Sitting up onto his heels, his hands reached for her rich, ripe hips as he pulled her to him, sinking himself as deep as he could before pushing her away. But it wasn’t deep enough to his mind. So he raised himself up onto his haunches and powered through, his hips thrusting as he shoved her down on the stem of his desire again.
“Fuck, Wyst,” he heard her moan and felt he couldn’t have said it better himself, lost in the miasma of what encircled and clenched his steel-like length. “More, babe.”
Leaning back and holding onto hips, he began to plunge in earnest, giving into his most primal urges. He pushed and pulled, plundered and fell away as they both panted and growled at the beauty of their joining.
He’d never experienced anything so wondrous, so fracking amazing than the feel of his tailpor in her tyad, shuttling hard as they came together again and again. The sounds of their slapping skin only spurning his ardor higher as his body strove for completion.
But absolutely not before she’d found hers.
Lightly pressing himself into her back, Wyst snuck a hand beneath her and began to stroke the hardened triangle of her pleasure point, circling her swollen, unhooded clitoris. And her writhing, disjointed moves along with the renewed pants of breath more than told him it was the right thing to do.
Wyst? I’m going to… Oh yes, she was. It was exactly what he wanted to happen, with the pressure he felt building against his spine, throughout his tailpor and especially in his tai.
Let it happen, mica azjani, leca pixie. In those moments, when they were so connected he more than welcomed the thrill of her words in his head; even as he heard her call his name as her body spasmed around him in her ecstasy…while he used Picari words to describe his beautiful, little, yet strong, small flower…he knew he was lost.
Wyst Page 17
