Stolen and Seduced

by Christine Pope

  “No, I would expect not. My people have not been active in that location.”

  It took me a second or two to absorb that piece of information. “So, you’re saying there are — that is, there are other kinds of aliens in places like Area 51 and Roswell?”

  “Of course,” he replied calmly, as if divulging such earth-shattering information to me was the most natural thing in the world. “And we share this base here in these mountains with yet more.”

  Base? And there I’d been thinking I was on board a spaceship. Strangely, I felt a little disappointed. Weren’t you supposed to be beamed up to a flying saucer when you were abducted by aliens?

  Then again, his comment seemed to indicate that the rumors about the Superstition Mountains had been true.

  “All purely for research, of course,” I said.

  He nodded, apparently missing the note of sarcasm in my voice. Maybe blue-skinned space aliens didn’t have sarcasm on their planet. “You are a fascinating species.”

  “Oh, really?” I responded, not sure if he’d meant those words as a compliment.

  “Yes. Your bodies have such capacity for pleasure, and yet you do so much to deprive yourselves of it, surround it with taboos, subscribe to a puritan — to borrow a phrase from your history — notion of what is acceptable and what is not.”

  I wanted to argue, but I knew he was right…partly, anyway. No one in my circle of friends was what I would exactly call straight-laced…far from it…but I’d still never been able to indulge in casual one-nighters, easy as that option sometimes seemed. And the couple of times I’d tried to throw caution to the wind, I’d just felt wrong the next day. Guess you could take the girl out of St. Mary’s Catholic School, but you couldn’t take the St. Mary’s out of the girl.

  “And that’s what you’re all about?” I asked next. “Aliens just want to have fun?”

  Of course, he didn’t catch the reference, and instead appeared to carefully consider my question. “That is not all we do. Pleasure is a part of experience, of learning.”

  “So, what have you learned so far?”

  “That you, Blake D’Ambrosio, like to give up control.”

  I blinked at him, wondering where the hell he’d gotten that particular tidbit from. “I what?”

  “Last night, you derived a good deal of your pleasure simply from being bound, of being able to surrender, since you could do nothing else.” He paused there and gazed at me, head tilted slightly to one side. His eyes were nearly the same inky dark blue as his hair. “Or was my analysis incorrect?”

  It crossed my mind to tell him exactly what he could do with his analysis, but then it occurred to me that he might be right. Well, partially, anyway. It had always been my idea to play with the handcuffs, to get the coil of smooth nylon rope from the garage and have some fun….

  The alien nodded at my silence. “So, I think you will enjoy this.”

  And something pulled at me, drew me, gasping, backward until I was pinned against the wall. My wrists and ankles likewise were held against the cool surface, and somehow, I hung there a few inches above the floor. I couldn’t see what held me in place, but it didn’t hurt, even when I wriggled against the force that kept me stuck to the wall like a piece of iron to a magnet.

  He moved closer to me, placing his hand on my bare thigh where it emerged from the slit in the caftan I wore. His fingers were warm, almost too warm, as if his regular body temperature was higher than a human’s. And that heat seemed to spread out from his hand, radiating upward, as I felt the familiar throbbing begin between my legs, the delicious ache of desire.

  “There is nothing wrong with wanting to surrender,” he murmured, bending so his mouth could touch the sensitive skin of my throat. Another gasp escaped my lips as he tasted me, his tongue a delicate flicker on my neck, moving lower, tracing its way over my collarbones, down the exposed flesh of my chest, pushing the deeply cut neckline of the caftan off to one side. His mouth found my nipple, teasing my flesh, and I couldn’t hold back the moan that forced its way from my throat.

  Maybe I should have protested. If I cried out, would he stop?

  Based on what he’d said earlier about letting “candidates” go if they weren’t receptive, I thought he probably would.

  However, I didn’t want him to stop.

  Apparently sensing my need, he moved his other hand up my thigh, brushing over my mound, then descending, sliding his fingers in so he could begin to stroke me.

  I was instantly wet…so, so wet. My breathing quickened, and I shut my eyes, concentrating on the sensations flooding my body. How he knew to touch me exactly there, at that extra-sensitive little bud at the top, I didn’t know and at the moment didn’t care. I could only let myself melt into his touch, moaning as he slid one finger up inside me, then two, as he continued to stroke my clit with his thumb.

  And somehow to have him doing it as I hung here like that, unable to move, unable to do anything except focus on the delicious ripples of ecstasy that flooded through me as if every nerve ending had gotten an extra jolt of energy, made it feel that much better. Nothing had felt like this, not even the little alien vibrator. That device couldn’t compete with his fingers, or the sensation of his tongue suckling on my nipple.

  The orgasm wrenched itself out of me, and I convulsed, gasping, body wracked with spasms. But still I was held in place, and then he knelt before me, fingers caressing me even as his tongue came up against my clit, in slow, languorous movements apparently calculated to extend my previous climax even while building toward another one.

  Everything seemed to center in that moment, in the pulsing heat in my core, his tongue making love to me in a way I’d never experienced before then. In the past, it had always seemed as if my partners went down on me because they knew it was their duty, part of the deal if they wanted to get sucked off. Now, though, this alien whose name I didn’t even know seemed to instinctively understand exactly the best way to pleasure me, how to move his tongue slowly up and down, savoring me, suckling on my engorged clit, moving downward so his tongue pushed in and out of me, then withdrawing and circling back to caress my bud once again.

  I strained against the invisible bonds, wishing I could bury my hands in his thick hair, push him deeper into me. But I couldn’t move, and that sensation of paralysis only made the fire in me burn hotter, waves of ecstasy so intense they were almost painful flooding through me, each nerve ending vibrantly, achingly alive.

  A scream tore its way out of my throat, an animal noise I hadn’t thought I was capable of making. His hands were still warm on my thighs, but his tongue moved more slowly, bringing me down from the heights, bringing me back to the point where I thought I might be able to remember my name…if pressed.

  He didn’t give me much time to think. A few seconds passed, or maybe a minute. I really couldn’t say, not with the way I was panting as if I’d just run a mile in the blazing heat of an Arizona summer afternoon, or with the way the blood pounded through my veins so fiercely, I thought for sure he’d be able to hear it. But he stood up then, moving closer to me, closer….

  And he pushed up inside me as I was suspended there, sliding into me as easily as if he’d done the same thing a hundred times before. Clearly, he wasn’t wearing anything under the tunic…and he was big, but not so much that it hurt. No, he was just the perfect size to fit into me, to make it seem as if I’d been waiting my entire life for someone who matched me so exactly. Sex standing up had never worked out too well for me in the past, but with the way I hung against the wall, it didn’t really matter if there was a difference in our heights. We were both exactly where we needed to be.

  He filled me, rocking in an effortless motion that told me he didn’t plan for this stage of the proceedings to be over too quickly. Fine with me. I’d joked to Jessica once that I could never be a lesbian because I loved cock too much, but it was the simple truth. There was something about the sensation of a man’s shaft inside me, the perfect geometry of the
act that made it so satisfying. Oh, I could come day and night when a guy went down on me, but having him inside me was even better. Especially since I was powerless to do anything except shut my eyes and let him move in and out, in and out….

  Finally, his breathing quickened, and I opened my eyes just in time to see him close his. With his face in shadow like that, his lashes looked almost black instead of the same dark, inky blue as his hair, but there was no disguising that blue skin. Not that I cared. He might not have been human, but damn, he sure as hell was a man.

  Keeping pace with his breaths, his thrusting also sped up, his cock pounding into me. His hands slid across my breasts, teasing my nipples, and I moaned, moving my hips as best I could, hating the bonds that held me in place even as I somehow knew they intensified my pleasure.

  He made a guttural sound in his throat, hips rocking with mine. I felt it, too, knew I was about to come, and knew he was close to climax as well.

  It burst over both of us almost simultaneously, my orgasm arriving just a second or two after his. He kept moving inside me even afterward, gradually slowing, letting both of us slip away from the heights of the climax. Then, finally, he pulled out, and I sighed, although whether in satisfaction or disappointment, I couldn’t really say. I always liked to have a man inside me for a while after sex, but he’d been standing the whole time. It seemed entirely plausible that he needed a break.

  Suddenly, the force holding me let go, and I slid down the wall until I was standing upright. Barely, though — my legs felt like rubber.

  “Would you like to lie down?” he asked, and indicated the bed.

  That sounded like a brilliant idea, and I nodded before heading in that direction. When I got to the bed, though, I stared down at it in some surprise. I could have sworn it was barely wide enough for one person, but it now seemed at least as big as my queen bed back home, if not even a little bigger than that. Raising my eyebrows, I looked over my shoulder at the alien.

  “I thought it looked somewhat cramped,” he said, and although he didn’t quite smile, he seemed to have a distinct glint in his eyes.

  “You’re very talented,” I returned, and climbed up onto the bed. It felt the same, despite its increased size. I supposed that, for beings who could cross interstellar distances and beam people right out of their pickup trucks off dark desert highways, making a bed instantly expandable probably wasn’t too difficult.

  “As are you.”

  I smiled at his remark but didn’t reply, and went ahead and lay down. It did feel good to stretch out like that. Fun as the whole alien bondage thing had been, my arms and legs needed a rest. He settled himself down next to me, lying on his side so he could gaze into my face. I wondered if my late-spring tan and brown eyes looked as alien to him as his blue skin and hair did to me.

  “Not exactly,” he said. “We’ve been studying your world for some time. We have some familiarity with the range of coloration which occurs among humans.”

  That remark seemed to answer one question at least. “And you can read minds,” I said. I thought that maybe I should have been a little more freaked out by the idea. Then again, a mind-reading lover could only be a good thing, right? My body seemed to think so, and throbbed a little at the memory of everything he had just done to me.

  He tilted his head slightly to one side, as if thinking over my words. “Some more easily than others. You broadcast quite strongly, Blake D’Ambrosio. Your thought waves mesh well with mine, which is why I am the one who came to be with you.”

  “Oh, so you didn’t draw lots or something?” I replied, wondering if I should be insulted.

  “No, of course not,” he said at once. “We take our contact with your people very seriously. It is not something to be entered into lightly or without forethought.”

  I lay there for a moment, looking up at him. His face really was beautiful, once you got past the blue skin and hair. Not model-pretty, but something about the strong cheekbones and chin reminded me of the pictures of statues from ancient Greece I’d studied in one of my art history classes.

  My gaze moved down his body, taking in the heavy, sculpted muscles, the faint dusting of dark blue hair on his chest, his arms…his legs.

  Just looking at him like that made my pulse start up all over again.

  He seemed to notice where I was staring, and he smiled for the first time. His teeth looked human enough, and very white. “It’s all right to touch.”

  That was all the invitation I needed. I reached out and took him in my hand, felt him begin to stiffen almost immediately at my touch. Trailing my fingers down his length, I had a smile of my own pull at my lips as he moaned a little and lay back against the pillow, obviously content to let me do whatever I wanted. And what I really wanted was to taste him.

  I moved closer, lowering myself onto one elbow so I could get the angle of approach right. Then I bent down and took him in my mouth.

  The taste of my musk swept over my tongue, and I felt myself growing wet at the memory of that firm cock inside me. But now it was inside my mouth instead, and I wanted to make sure this was as good for him as the sex had been for me. I lifted my head a little and let my tongue trace swirls across his silky skin, reveling in its delicate touch.

  A brief sigh escaped me as I tasted him, tasted his arousal. The heat of his body seemed to surround me, and that throbbing returned to my core as I suckled his flesh. I wanted him again…but I also wasn’t quite done with him yet. Slowly, I lifted my head from the base of his shaft, and then closed my mouth around him again, sliding up and down, listening to his breathing quicken. Strange how this alien man could have so many of the same tells as a human. He wasn’t there yet, but he was getting close…and I wanted to take advantage of that.

  One last lick, one last taste, and then I pushed myself upward and settled myself on him, feeling his heat and his strength fill me. I moved up and down his shaft, the pace quickening as he pumped away beneath me, our movements matching in perfect rhythm. He reached up to caress my breasts, fingers rubbing over my sensitive nipples. Something about the sight of those blue-skinned fingers touching the rosy-brown of my aureolas sent a shudder of excitement through me. Of all the women in the world, this alien had chosen me.

  At the moment, I was very, very glad about that.

  I closed my fingers over his, feeling him play with my nipples, and then he moved his hands out of the way so I was touching myself, stroking the flesh there just a little, the way I did when I lay in bed alone and needed some release. Only in that moment, it was so much better, because I had him filling me, the exquisite sensation of his hard cock thrusting up into me as I caressed my breasts. His eyes were open, watching me slide my fingers over my nipples, and he smiled, nodding, as if the sight of me pleasing myself pleased him as well.

  Our rhythm increased, and I cried out a little at the force of his flesh driving into me, but it was so good, so exquisite, that I knew we wouldn’t stop, not when we were so close. I reached down to touch him, to touch his nipples, hard and strong against my fingertips. He groaned, and that was enough to send me over the edge, the orgasm bursting through me as I clenched myself around his shaft, throbbing, my juices mingling with his as he came as well, his back arching, sending him ever deeper into me with the force of his passion.

  How he managed it, when I knew I was feeling wrung out as an old dishrag, I didn’t know, but somehow, he managed to reach up and lift me from his shaft, settle me down on the bed next to him. He rolled over on his side and kissed me, his breath warm against my cheek, against the side of my neck.

  “I knew you were the one,” he murmured.

  “The one what?” I asked.

  “The one for me.”

  Based on raw sexual compatibility, I had to agree. No one else had made me come so hard, or so often. If we’d just hooked up in a bar or after meeting at a party, I would have thought I’d just hit the sexual equivalent of winning the lottery. But now —

  “I don’t ev
en know your name,” I said abruptly, although that wasn’t really what I’d meant.

  “You may call me Dev.”

  “Is that your real name?”

  “It’s the closest approximation in your language.”

  I guessed I had to be content with that. I also knew I should probably just keep my mouth shut, revel in the afterglow, and not push things, but I’d never been very good at that. “So…what now?”

  One corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. “Ready again so soon?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  For a few seconds, he said nothing. “That depends on you, Blake, on whether you are ready. I know there is no one else here on this world who is as compatible with me as you, but if you wish, it can end here. You have your friends in this world, like the one whose need brought you onto the highway last night. Your family, your life. It would be a great deal to leave behind.”

  How Dev knew all that about Jessica, I couldn’t begin to guess, but clearly, he had insights into my life I hadn’t expected.

  But though I was relieved that he was allowing me to make my own choices, I found I wasn’t too thrilled at the prospect of being dropped off back in Superior like nothing had happened. Was that all this had been — the alien equivalent of wham-bam, thank-you-ma’am?

  “Not at all,” Dev said. He pulled me against him, the heat of his body oddly comforting, even though the temperature in the room was more than adequate to our naked state. The touch of his flesh on mine was enough to send thrills along every limb, to waken the heat between my legs again. Damn. I would really have to give my body a talking-to about that whole willpower thing.

  I didn’t try to pull away, although doing so might have improved my state of mind. No, better to have him pressed against me, to feel him as much as possible before I had to go. Because that was the choice I needed to make, wasn’t it? He hadn’t laid out the choice in black and white terms, but I thought I understood what he was saying. We could remain together…if I went with him. And how could I possibly do something like that? Give up my entire life, just because of one night of great sex with an alien named Dev?