by Tamsin Ley
His palm slid up her waist until his thumb stopped at the crease below one of her breasts.
Nipples aching for his touch, she arched her back.
He cupped her breast, thrusting his tongue into her mouth with quick, sure strokes.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so thoroughly kissed. It was making her dizzy. Her hands slid around the solid muscles along his ribs as if he was the only thing holding her upright.
His thumb stroked over the fabric covering her nipple, making it harden in response. She could only imagine how much better it would feel on her bare skin.
As if of the same thought, he slid the spaghetti strap of her gown off her shoulder and down her arm, exposing the top of her strapless bra.
She tilted her head, letting his questing tongue lave her skin. Shudders of delight coursed through her at his touch. She hadn’t been with a man since Josh had left her, and her hormones were on fire.
Arazhi tugged the strap, breaking it in half, and she snapped back to reality. This gown had cost a fortune. She grabbed his hand. “What are you doing? Don’t rip my dress.”
Arazhi stepped back so quickly she nearly collapsed. His eyes were wide as he looked at the broken shoulder strap. “Have I harmed you?”
She held the severed edge of the strap, trying to determine if it could be repaired. “You could’ve used the zipper.”
“What is a zipper?”
She let out a slow breath and bit her bottom lip. He didn’t know what a zipper was. He’s an alien, what did you expect? She shouldn’t be making out with him, anyway. She had to focus on getting home. Swallowing, she smoothed one hand up the front of the gown to cover her exposed bra. “How long until we reach your planet?”
“Approximately sixteen jiros.”
She really hoped jiros translated to minutes. “Uh, can you give me that in Earth time?”
“I believe it is almost two of your Earth days.”
Her stomach cramped. Two days? Double that if she counted the return trip. And she still had no idea if her friends were okay. “Can we go any faster?”
“Not appreciably, no.” He tilted his head, as if listening to something. “You are hungry. Come, I will show you the galley.” Without waiting for her to agree, he turned and exited the room.
She was hungry, and if she was about to face multiple days of space travel, she should probably eat. As she followed Arazhi, she glanced at the strange pastel walls around her, nervous about what aliens might consider food. She’d seen several episodes of Star Trek where aliens ate live worms or other gross items.
Reality suddenly hit her—she was on an alien spaceship. And everything was completely different from anything she’d ever imagined. The walls weren’t metal, but ribbed like giant leaves and glowing with pale lavender light, like something out of a fairy story. The air smelled sweet and slightly like wintergreen, with a warm current of fresh air flowing from the curved hall Arazhi had entered.
She ran her fingertips along a thick support rib running the length of the hall. The surface felt warm and leathery, almost alive. “What is this wall made of?”
“The interior walls are grown from a variant of popotan.” He looked over his shoulder at her, his dimple flirting with the edge of his almost smile. “I look forward to showing you the farms where we grow it on Kirenai Prime. The rolling hills there are lovely.”
She dropped her hand from the wall and glared at him. “We will not be going on a field trip to some farm. The moment we reach your planet, we’re going to contact the IDA and straighten this out.”
“Of course.” He returned his attention to the hallway ahead. “I’m simply saying you would find the farms enjoyable. I used to play there as a child.”
Her footsteps slowed. She was trying to be angry with him, to resist the lure of a dream that could never come true. But what if his species had technology that would allow her to bear a child? A tiny Arazhi would be so cute, she thought, picturing a chubby blue toddler playing among rows of purple leaves. And making that baby with Arazhi… Her insides tingled with the memory of his hand on her breast.
She let her gaze follow the muscular curve of his blue shoulder to the planes of his back. Alien or not, he pushed all the right buttons for her. Tall, deep-voiced, muscular, and that dimple when he smiled—she was continually on the verge of forgetting everything and letting him pleasure her like he promised.
She shook her head, refusing to follow her thoughts. Arazhi wasn’t asking to marry her and have a family. He wanted to breed her as if she was livestock. He’d even said he’d grant her freedom afterward, which could only mean he intended to take the child from her. No way was she going to have a baby only to give it up. But leaving Earth to live on an alien planet? No way. She had parents, friends, and a life—such as it was.
Arazhi entered a door to the left, and she paused at the threshold. Storage shelves were inset between the ribs in the walls here, and a brushed gold table rested in the center, surrounded by plush violet captain’s chairs. A heavenly scent reached her, reminding her of roast pork with apples as Arazhi set an oval platter on the table.
Her stomach growled, and she looked at the orange glistening lumps sitting on top of something that might pass for rice. Despite her growing hunger, her concern about eating alien food returned. “Are you sure humans can eat your food?”
He smiled, his dimple once more making her insides flutter. “I verified that everything here is compatible with human physiology.” He set a basket of round red fruits that looked like plums with pointed ends next to the platter. “Let me show you how we eat this dish.”
Transferring a fruit to a shallow bowl, he deftly squished it into a paste with a utensil that looked like a small spatula. He turned the spatula around and poked the pointed end of the handle into one of the orange lumps, dipped it into the paste, then returned the paste-covered morsel to the platter where he rolled it around to pick up the pale brown grain.
Holding it toward her mouth, he said, “Try it.”
Jaw tight, she shook her head. “You first.”
He laughed and ate it, then repeated the process, offering the next bite to her. “You may spit it out if you find it distasteful.”
The food smelled edible, and he seemed to enjoy it. And she would have to eat something before they got back to Earth. Might as well do it now. She opened her mouth and let him place the food on her tongue.
An explosion of flavor filled her senses—sweet and rich with a hint of spice. It was crunchy on the outside and soft and juicy on the inside, somewhat like fried chicken. The delicious flavor flowed down her throat before she could even think to stop it. “What is this? It’s amazing.”
“A dish called akeno. It’s a root with a glaze of urebi, one of my favorites.”
“I can see why.” She reached for the other spatula utensil, but he already had another bite up to her mouth.
This time she took the utensil from him to feed herself, relishing the flood of flavor. As she finished chewing, he slid a cup in her direction. “This pairs well. Try it.”
She sniffed the bubbly liquid. It smelled like alcoholic Sweet Tarts. She took a tiny sip. The hint of sour was a perfect complement to the akeno, and she took a bigger drink. “This is refreshing. Thank you.”
“We make it from zhupakuri fruit. It’s native to Kirenai Prime.”
Relaxing into her chair, she let him feed her another bite. She hated to admit it, but she could get used to treatment like this. “What do your species call themselves? Kirenai?”
He beamed at her. “Correct.”
Damn. Why did she like his smile so much? She took another sip to hide her distraction. “Why did you leave your friend behind?” She hadn’t understood their language, but she’d sensed the tension between them during the call earlier. “The people that ran past us near the fountain said something about aliens turning into puddles of goo.”
Arazhi’s eyes flashed, and he sat up straighter. “Y
ou mean they destabilized?” Before she could answer, he rose, his face a grimace of anger. “Kuzara, the food.”
Georgie put a hand over her mouth as she remembered how quickly the hors d’oeuvres had been eaten. “Oh, God, I never imagined our food might be harmful to aliens.”
“Human food is not harmful to us. The IDA verified compatibility before the party.”
She let out a shaky breath. “Then what do you mean?”
He paced to the other side of the room and back. “It was an assassination attempt. Someone poisoned the emperor the same way. Now they’re after me.”
“You? Why?”
He paused his pacing. “I’m his sole heir.”
She gulped as the implication sank in. If Arazhi was the son of an emperor, that could mean only one thing.
She’d been purchased by a prince.
7
Arazhi stood still, watching Georgie’s expression shift as her roving emotions teased his Iki’i. Women always fell all over him the moment they learned who he was, and he expected no different from this gorgeous Earth woman.
But when she met his eyes she asked, “Is your father all right?”
Her sincere compassion sliced straight to his heart. He was used to doling out empathy, not receiving it. All the anxiety he’d bottled up since learning of his father’s condition threatened to break loose. “I don’t know,” he said, keeping his voice even. “Our healers were still looking for an antidote when I left.”
“I’m sorry.” Georgie knitted her brows. “Are you two not close?”
“Why would you ask that?” He frowned, affronted by her question. Family meant everything to Kirenai; from the moment they bonded, they lived and died for mate and children. Kirenai children honored and cherished their parents. “Of course we’re close. He’s my father.”
She shrank back in her seat, embarrassment wafting toward him. “It’s just that you’re here, not with him. If it was my father, I’d want to be with him every moment to make sure he was all right.”
He grimaced, suddenly realizing his hands were balled into fists. He didn’t want to frighten her. Relaxing his posture, he returned to his seat in the chair next to her. Perhaps if she understood the true reason he needed her, she would stop resisting. “We are close. But if I don’t produce an heir before he dies, my family will lose the throne.”
“Oh.” Her brow furrowed. “Why come all the way to Earth? Don’t you have any women on your planet?”
This conversation was taking an unexpected turn, and he didn’t feel like getting into a biology lesson about shapeshifting and pair bonding right now, so he kept things simple. “Kirenai require a female of a different species to reproduce. Humans are reported to be the most prolific, and I need a female who can conceive and bear a child quickly.”
Her body tensed, and she shook her head. “I don’t know any women who’d be willing to have a baby and just hand it over like that, especially to someone who lives on another planet. Visitation rights would be a nightmare.”
“I wouldn’t dream of separating a mother from her child. Part of the reason I came to Earth was that I was told humans make excellent mothers.”
“Oh.” She looked away. Regret floated like a sour miasma around her. “In that case, I’m sure you can find a woman willing to have your baby as soon as we get back to Earth. There were quite a few volunteers for the auction who I had to turn away.”
He frowned. He thought he’d been paying her a compliment, assuring her he trusted her to become a mother to his child. Why did she continue to deny her own desire? Was this trait unique to Georgie, or were all human females this difficult? He placed a gentle hand on her arm. “But I don’t want another female. I want you.”
She shoved away from the table and stood, regret now consumed by searing hurt and anger. “You aren’t listening to me. Unless you have a way to fix broken hardware, you need to find someone else to make alien babies with, okay?”
Again with the undecipherable idioms. “I don’t understand.”
Her eyes glistened as she pointed to her stomach. “I’m barren. Infertile. Broken. Defective.” Her voice cracked. “Unable to have children. Understand?”
He didn’t need to use his Iki’i to feel her pain. He could see it in her eyes. “Ah.” He shifted his gaze to her middle. “Is it physical or genetic?”
“I don’t know!” She turned away. “The doctors ran every test they could and couldn’t fix me. Just take me back to Earth and swap me out. I’m sure an alien prince as hot as you are won’t have any trouble finding someone else.”
Pain and angst welled over him in waves, filling the room like the bitter scent of nilgawood resin. All he wanted was to soothe her. “Human physiology is new to the galactic consortium, but there are healers among the Qalqan who—”
She sliced a hand through the air. “I tried to have a baby for eight years, and I’m done with heartbreak. I can’t handle another failure. Besides, you don’t have time for tests and treatments. You need someone to pop out a kid quick.”
Then he understood—she wasn’t resisting him so much as she wanted to do the right thing. She was being honest. But her sincerity only made him want her more. “You let me worry about that.”
Hope flared against his Iki’i, but died almost as quick. “Worry all you want, but leave me out of it. I’ve moved on.”
He could tell she hadn’t moved on; she still yearned for exactly what he was offering, regardless of her refusal to see a healer. And he wanted her regardless of her capacity to bear children, even if only for a single interlude of passion. “Then let’s not talk about it anymore. I’d still like to give you pleasure if you’re willing. We won’t reach Earth again for several of your days, and I can think of no better way to spend that time.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, wiping angrily at a tear that escaped one corner.
It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no, either, and he could sense she was tempted. He stood to face her and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, letting his fingertips trail lightly down the side of her neck to her shoulder. Her indecision felt like a sheet of brittle ice melting in the sun. He leaned closer, letting his breath heat the skin where his fingers had touched. “What do you have to lose?”
Biting her bottom lip, she shrugged. “I guess I’ve got nothing better to do.” She lifted red-rimmed eyes to meet his. “As long as you understand there’ll be no babies.”
He smiled and pulled her into his arms. “Think only of pleasure.”
He was going to make her forget all about pain and regret.
8
Toward the end of Georgie’s marriage, sex had become so focused on getting her pregnant, it had felt like a chore. Arazhi was offering her a chance to enjoy her own body again. And it had been so long since she’d felt desirable.
She relaxed into his arms, still worried she was making a mistake. She could enjoy being with him now, before he moved on and found a suitable woman. One who could give him everything she couldn’t. She’d been relieved to learn he didn’t intend to take his child from its mother, but it was a bittersweet relief. Why can’t it be me?
Arazhi kissed her softly, as if sensing her need for tenderness, stroking her hair, feathering butterfly kisses over her cheeks and eyelids. Then he pressed his forehead to hers, just holding her and letting his presence wash over her.
After a few calm moments, he said, “Come.”
Taking her hand, he led her down the purple-veined hallway to another curved room. A circular bed made up with sheets that looked like iridescent mirror glaze sat in the center. Shelves lined the walls, filled with an assortment of odd items. Her gaze snagged on a flickering cube with the image of a blue man with his arm around an alabaster-skinned woman. Arazhi’s parents? But before she could ask, she was pushed back onto the bed.
The shimmering covers felt buttery soft against her bare arms and shoulders. All thoughts of his family photos left her as she looked up at the perfectly cu
t muscles of Arazhi’s torso and abs. His midnight dark eyes were sexy as hell, and the way he was looking at her made her breath catch in her throat.
He placed his hands on her thighs and slowly slid up her gown, letting the air caress her legs. By the time the hem reached the top of her thighs, her entire body trembled with anticipation. He let his thumbs slide between her legs, stroking softly upward in exactly the way she’d imagined when he’d licked between her fingers.
She let out a shaky breath and relaxed her legs, letting them part beneath his touch as he worked his way up. His fingertip bumped against her panties, and she flexed toward him involuntarily.
Chuckling, he ran his thumbs over the lace covering her hips, sending shivers of delight straight to her core.
“I want to see you naked,” he said. “Show me how to remove your gown.”
Although she felt ready to rip her panties off and let him take her, she complied and rolled over onto her stomach. “Pull down on the metal tab.”
His knees sank into the mattress on either side of her as he straddled her hips, then the warmth of his hands met her back. He lowered the zipper until it stopped at the base of her spine. “Intriguing closure.”
She chuckled. “I thought you were an advanced species. How can you be unfamiliar with a zipper?”
“We use supo cloth. No need for zippers.” His hands slid along her back beneath the bodice and over the strap of her bra, easily discovering how to release the constricting elastic. With a deft pull, he detangled her from the gown and flipped her onto her back once more, leaving her in nothing but her panties.
He licked his lips, hungry gaze roaming her body.
She breathed shallowly, letting her own attention run down his gorgeous body. Her eyes widened at the sight of his bulging crotch. She swore she could see the actual outline of his dick beneath his pants. Heat flooded her panties. What did he look like?
