Nebula Nights: Love Among The Stars

by Melisse Aires

  Stark positioned the head of his cock between the outer lips of her pussy and then paused there, lifting his head enough to look at her. "Now?" he asked, his hand sliding up to cup her breast through the dress and fondle her, his thumb flicking her nipple.

  Kiri nodded, tilting her hips to bring him into her. Her heart was pounding, and if she didn't get that hot, beautiful cock of his inside her, she was going to melt with sheer frustration.

  He pinched her nipple, hard. "I can't hear you, kitten."

  "Now," she pleaded, not caring that her voice was hoarse, or that she was moving helplessly against him, her heels digging into his ass, his cock caressing her just lightly. "Now, Logan."

  He grunted with approval and then slid his arm down to cup her ass in his hand and thrust into her in one long, hard stroke. Kiri whimpered. It hurt to take him so fast, her pussy stretched around him, but it was also an exquisite relief to have him inside her, filling her.

  "That's right," he said, his voice deep and harsh in her ear. "I'll take you whenever and wherever and however I want, kitten."

  He moved, pulling out and then thrusting back in, raking every inch of her clinging channel, possessing her. Kiri clung to him, shaking with the pleasure as he set a swift, steady rhythm, rocking her on her perch. She couldn't move, could only hang onto him and take what he gave her.

  "My luggage will be arriving in a moment," he told her, nipping her ear. "We may be seen."

  His voice sent her over the edge. Pleasure imploded inside her, the succulent strokes of his cock the most perfect sensation she'd ever known. A high moan burst from her throat, and Kiri came, exquisite contractions clasping him in secret.

  He fucked her through it, his hands clamped on her bare ass.

  "We have to move," she gasped, dragging open her eyes.

  "Oh, no," he said. "I haven't come yet."

  He watched her as he continued to thrust inside her. "That's right. We're not done until I fill you with my cum, little cat. No matter what happens, no matter who walks through that door. Do you understand?"

  His face was flushed, his breathing hard, his eyes glittering. He was the most beautiful man Kiri had ever seen, ever touched. And understanding blossomed—he was going to lead her along sensual paths she'd never imagined. And she'd follow him.

  "Yes, Logan."

  "You like this, don't you? It gets you off, knowing someone may find me having you."

  Yes, she did, and that meant she was twisty, but she'd worry about that later. She wanted the whole world to know she was his. "Yes, Logan."

  She kissed him, and he thrust so powerfully their flesh slapped together, and she started to come again as a chime sounded, and the soft voice announced. "Main door opening. Luggage."

  Kiri whimpered with shock and Stark groaned, stiffening in her arms. Kiri buried her face against his chest, shivering with pleasure and shame as he moved slowly inside her, and she came and came around him, even as footsteps and voices sounded in the foyer to her right.

  Stark let out a long breath. "Next time perhaps I'll arrange an audience ahead of time."

  Kiri let out a squeak of humiliation, and he laughed, a deep rumble under her ear. "Kiri, look."

  She shook her head and then jerked in shock as he smacked her bottom sharply. "Look."

  He turned her head with his fingers against her cheek. An elegant screen of carved wood panels shielded the entryway. Beyond it, Natan's voice mingled with that of another man. Then footsteps sounded again, and the galley door closed.

  "They—they didn't see us?"

  "Perhaps. Or perhaps only Natan saw that we needed privacy." He pulled out of her and she had to bite back a moan of disappointment at losing him. Apparently she didn't do a good enough job, because his eyes lit with amusement. She was too rattled by the whole encounter to waste time worrying about that.

  "I have to go ... freshen up," she muttered.

  He patted her bottom as she slid from her perch, leaning against it for a moment to steady her trembling legs. She watched him fasten his trousers and straighten his shirt, and he leaned down to kiss her. "Yes, go on. Natan will be here in a moment with drinks. Unless you'd rather wear my cum?"

  Not when she was going to be vertical for the rest of the evening. She grabbed her panties from the floor and escaped his teasing smile, hurrying into her lav to deal with the ravages of hot sex. Her panties were ruined, so she threw them in the recycler. After cleaning up, she slipped into a fresh pair.

  Back in the sitting area, Stark stood by the window, a drink in his hand. Kiri walked to join him. She leaned against the window and smiled demurely.

  "Hello, dear, how was your day?"

  "It certainly has had moments." He handed her a glass from the hovertray. She sniffed. A pear blossom. "You've been busy while I was gone."

  She wasn't quite sure what to make of the look in his eye. "Yes. I hired someone to work my coffee."

  He raised his brows inquiringly.

  "Maury," she said. "You met her when—well, at the space port authority station."

  "Ah. You didn't use the employment agency. Is your friend qualified?"

  "She'll do fine."

  The galley door chimed, and Kiri hid behind her drink as Natan appeared with the salad tray. She felt her cheeks heating and peeped at him quickly, then away. However, Stark's butler smiled serenely as he set the small table for them with plates of bright salad and a basket of steaming rolls. "Welcome home, sir."

  "Thank you, Natan. Did the special package arrive with my luggage?" Stark held out his arm, indicating she should precede him, and Kiri walked to the table, clutching her drink like a talisman.

  Natan bowed. "Yes, sir. Where would you like me to place it?"

  "In my bedroom. Unpack it, please. We'll want it later."

  "Very good, sir. Enjoy your salads."

  Kiri slipped into her chair and set her drink aside, looking at the carefully arranged spray of fresh greens and cured olives on her plate. She wasn't sure she was going to be able to eat a bite, with the butterflies in her belly. Quarking weird having a servant around all the time.

  "Eat," Stark said mildly, and she picked up her fork, stabbing randomly. She put a plump green olive in her mouth and chewed. It was good, mellow and salty, with some piquant herb in the center. She tried a bite of lettuce, and that was good too. She attacked her salad with gusto.

  "Was your trip a success?"

  "It was." He forked up some greens. "I'm selling off some of my holdings here."

  Finished with her salad, she set down her fork and picked up the warm, flaky roll he had given her. "Because of the rioting?" What if he moved away entirely, and she never saw him again? She set the bread down.

  "Eat your roll. I'm simply consolidating. Part of business is knowing what to get rid of and what to keep."

  Natan appeared with soft red wine and plates of steaming pasta in red sauce. The pasta was plump with cheese and melted in her mouth. While they ate, Stark spoke idly of business, and asked her a few questions about what she planned for Kiri's Kaffe. Cautiously at first, and then with growing enthusiasm, Kiri outlined her plans for upgrading the stand. He listened attentively and nodded.

  "What, no advice from the business magnate?" she asked, leaning her chin on her palm.

  "Not for your business," he said. "It sounds as if you have sound ideas and a plan to carry them out."

  She frowned, uneasy. "Then what is it?" Something was wrong, she could tell.

  He leaned back in his chair, turning his wine glass slowly, a remote look on his face.

  "On a more personal level, you offended a very old friend, and I want to know why."

  She sat up straight, her shoulders tightening defensively. "What? Oh, you mean Haassea?"

  He nodded imperiously.

  Kiri growled under her breath, her hands fisting in her lap. "Your 'old friend' seems to be under the impression that—let me see, how did her lackey put it? I'm a little back-alley whore you picked up f
or a sex weekend, and they should dress me like one. Well, guess what? I'm not parading my ass around in see-through lace with glitter."

  "That was a mistake. The girl has been removed from staff."

  "Don't care. Not going back there."

  Stark looked down at his wineglass. He lifted it and took a drink. Then he looked at her over his glass. "I am accustomed," he said softly, "to having my instructions followed."

  Kiri bit her lip, the small pain distracting her from the chill in his voice. "So you're allowed your pride but I'm not? Starry for you." Her stomach knotted around her dinner.

  "I think you'll find your reception quite different this time, kitten. So sheathe your claws. My business means a great deal to Haassea. We'll be socializing, and people will notice that you're wearing her things."

  Kiri wanted to ask if the woman gave him a discount for having his whores advertise her clothing. But she swallowed the words along with the last of her wine, draining her glass and then saluting him with it. A mistake, as her stomach rebelled even further.

  "Okay, you bet. Anything you say, boss."

  She was just another employee, after all. So she'd do what he ordered until her business took off. And then he could kiss her ass goodbye.

  "You've an appointment tomorrow," he said calmly. "And I expect you to behave as the lady I know you can be."

  "Oh, wow," she breathed, shooting from her chair. "No more time to chat then. Gotta go watch an etiquette holovid."

  He held up his hand when she would have stormed away. "Kiri. Is there ... anything else you'd like to share with me?"

  "Oh, quark no." She batted her lashes at him, ignoring the odd, searching look in his eyes. "I wore some of my new pretty clothes and played with my little coffee stand." And used his money to search for her heart's desire, but damned if she'd share that with Mr. Galactic Mogul.

  He shook his head, looking down at his drink. "I'll see you later, then."

  Fine with her. Not like she wanted to sit around and gaze adoringly at him.

  * * *

  In the mistress room, the door shut behind her, Kiri let out a growl of irritation that echoed off the quiet walls and drapes. She wanted to smash something, preferably over his thick head. Arrogant man. And to think she'd been so happy to see him.

  Too restless to sit with her angry thoughts, Kiri washed and donned a shell-pink nightgown and robe. She'd been after the least enticing set of nightwear, but there was no such thing in the collection of his mistresses' leftovers, so she merely belted the robe tightly around her waist and stalked into the viewing room, where she brought up a holovid.

  She was in the mood for something violent. Chaz Jaguari had a new action adventure out, in which he was trapped on Serpentia with a beautiful native girl, surrounded by space pirates. That would do nicely. Maybe the pirates would murder a business mogul or two.

  She fell asleep at the end of the holovid, but woke when she was lifted from her nest and borne in strong arms into Stark's bedroom. She hadn't been carried in ... years. Then she remembered she was angry at him. When he set her on her feet by his bed, she scowled sleepily.

  "Go take over an unsuspecting planet or something." She batted at his hands as he deftly untied her robe.

  "I have my hands on the only acquisition I want at the moment." He tugged at her nightgown and she hunched her shoulders protectively.

  "I'm tired."

  "You're angry, which is entirely a different matter. Now give me the damn gown or I'll rip it off."

  "Go ahead, it's yours."

  "Yes, and so are you, but I don't want to hurt you. This lii silk is soft, but strong. Rather like you."

  With a huff of disgust, Kiri lifted her arms and let him pull the gown over her head. He did so, slowly, and then cocked his head, considering her. "You know, I think you need a small reminder of who's in charge here," he mused.

  He sank onto the edge of the bed, still clothed, and patted his thigh. "Lie down. Here."

  She glared at him, her hands clenching. "No."

  He grinned, his teeth flashing white as he grabbed her arm and gave her a sharp tug. It didn't hurt, but with her muscles tense she fell over like a statue, landing face down over his hard thighs. She struggled, letting out a screech, and he smacked her bottom with his palm, hard. The sound was loud in the quiet room, and it stung.

  "Ow." Her breath caught in her throat. "Logan Stark, you are a quarking tyrant."

  "Yes," he agreed. "I am. And you are a recalcitrant little wild cat and I did promise you this." He spanked her again, hitting both bare cheeks with a stinging blow.

  "You've caused me a great deal of trouble." Smack. "And so I'm going to take it out of your delectable—" smack "—twitching tail." Smack.

  "Hurts." She fought the hot swell of hurt and indignation behind her eyes. She'd never been spanked before in her life.

  He smacked her once more, but then he stroked gently over the stinging places he'd left, his touch now tender and soothing.

  "I believe I've made my point."

  "I don't like you," she said, her voice thick.

  "Yes, you do. You're angry and you wanted a fight. I want something different." He pulled back the covers, depositing her in the bed. Then he stood and yanked off his clothes. He was fully aroused, she saw as she turned to glare at him over her shoulder.

  He bared his teeth at her. "There's only one way through this, kitten," he told her, yanking open the cupboard beside the bed and reaching into one of the drawers."We're going to fuck our way out." Gah, that sounded like a bad holovid line—he was teasing her.

  "I should never let you touch me again." She turned her back on him. The bed moved under her as he knelt behind her.

  Then she flinched as she felt his warm lips against her shoulder. He pressed a trail of soft kisses across her back, and down. "But you will."

  Capter 22

  "Mmm," Stark murmured, tugging the covers down as he kissed the swell of her hip, and then her ass. "Mmm, so pretty and flushed. I may have to spank you more often. Seems the perfect way to tame a naughty wildcat."

  "You won't." She hated that it felt so good to have him kiss her there, and even better to have his warm hand stroke down her bare leg and urge her onto her back. And better still to have his warm kisses trail across the flat plane of her belly and into the soft curls on her mons. But if he thought he was going to tease her, she'd knee him.

  He didn't. He attacked her clitoris with expert flicks of his tongue, a quiet growl of approval in his throat as she shivered in his hands. But when she lifted up to him, begging silently for more, he stopped. Moving up over her, he raked her with the length of his cock, hard and throbbing again.

  "Put me inside you, little cat," he said, biting at her lower lip. She smelled her own scent on him, and she wanted him more than her next breath.

  "Just fucking?" she taunted. "Sure that's twisty enough for you?"

  "You're right. What was I thinking? Give me your hands."

  "Busy." She curled her hand around his heat, and guided him into her sleek opening.

  He thrust deep inside and stilled, waiting. She gave a growl of frustration. She needed him to move. He waited. She sighed loudly.

  Slowly, Kiri lifted her arms, laying them on the pillow over her head. Stark's eyes warmed as he grasped both her wrists in one hand.

  Then something closed around them, soft and resilient, yet too strong to fight. She tipped her head back. The quarker—he'd used soft restraints on her. They coiled around her wrists like metallic golden snakes against her pale skin. She eyed him warily to see what else he planned.

  Stark leaned on his elbow and surveyed her. "Beautiful. Thank you for reminding me. I purchased them especially for you."

  He bent to kiss her breasts, each in turn. Kiri lay under him, open and pliant. Gah, why did she give in to him every time? Stark came down over her, but he startled her by sliding his arms under the crooks of her knees and then moving forward so that his forearms were pla
nted on the bed, and he held her wide open to him. It was disconcerting and embarrassing.

  "Just right," he approved.

  "Logan." She started to lift her arms.

  "Would you prefer to have your legs constrained as well?" he asked politely. "If you've a preference for that, I have more restraints."

  He kissed her, soft, sipping kisses that made her forget her irritation with him.

  "No?" he murmured. "Very well then." He thrust into her, very slowly, so she squirmed with frustration to get him deeper, where she needed him.

  "Do you want me deeper?" he asked.

  "Yes," she groaned. "Logan, let me loose, I want to hold you."

  "But that's the point, kitten. You can't. I have the control. All you can do is tell me what you need. Now, deeper?"

  "Yes, damn you. Deeper."

  He flexed his hips, seating his cock so deep inside her she gasped.

  Stark paused and kissed her again. "Now what, kitten?"

  "Again. Please."

  "Such a polite kitten," he approved. "I am yours to command. Just indicate your pleasure."

  Fury and arousal battled inside her. "Again," she growled.

  He thrust once more, long and sweet, and then stopped, smirking down at her.

  Kiri realized that he was going to make her verbalize every single move. She was going to kill him—strangle him with his own stupid, quarking restraints. But first, he was inside her, an instrument of exquisite pleasure waiting for her use, and she needed what he had to give.

  "Again," she demanded. "Again, again, again …" To her chanted, breathless rhythm, Stark began to fuck her in earnest, long, hard, swift strokes of his magnificent cock, until she forgot everything but how good it was.

  When she came, pleasure imploding around him until she moaned his name, he bowed in her arms and gave a hoarse shout of pleasure. Heat flooded her, and he relaxed, weighing her into the bed. Their hearts pounded together for a long moment before he withdrew slowly, his cum a hot spill on her inner thighs.