Dark Matter: SCIENCE FICTION ROMANCE

by Jessica Loft

  “My my,” Ajax mused, taking a woman’s chin in his hand to inspect her face. “Your procurers did a lovely job with the new shipment, Numia.”

  Numia bowed and thanked him for his praise. “Choose however many you like my lord, we still have three full days left before we will empty their planet.”

  Riordan nodded his head solemnly and continued to walk down the long line of women. Now and then he saw one he fancied, and would reach out to touch her cheek. The moment his fingertips would come in contact with her skin she would drop unconscious into Ajax’s arms. One by one they continued this ritual until he had the number of slaves he needed to take back to his planet.

  Riordan had already picked his twelve when he came to Clara. At first he was struck by her eyes. They were emerald, a color he’d seen before, but they seemed to glow, much like his. Her lips were a deep coral and lusciously plump. She had high cheekbones, a tiny nose, and even through the brown shift he could see that her figure was somehow both thin and curvy at the same time. A spike of lust travelled through his chest, and he smiled at her as he reached out to touch her cheek. To his surprise, she flinched away from his touch, and took a step backwards.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” She asked, her voice holding a slight tremor. “It’s illegal to sell humans.”

  Riordan and Ajax shared a glance and chuckle. She obviously had no idea that her human men were the ones who made the deal in the first place. He took another step closer to her, making both Numia and his entourage uncomfortable. Very rarely did human slaves have the willpower to strike out in defense, but every so often one had slipped through, and the punishment for such a thing was a horrible thought.

  “Don’t be afraid of me little one,” he murmured, the back of his hand reaching out to stroke her cheek. “It is only slumber.” He felt the tremor of obedience run through her, and watched as she wavered on her feet. Yet a moment later she was still awake, and looking up at him defiantly.

  “A strong one,” he mused, his eyes roaming lazily over her face. They landed on her lips, and he noticed that they looked very chapped. He motioned in the air and someone immediately brought him an ornate deep blue glass bottle encrusted with jewels. He held it out to Clara, who jerked back defiantly.

  “It’s only water,” he promised, his deep voice holding just a hint of unnatural persuasion.

  Giving into her thirst, Clara parted her lips, and allowed the opening of the bottle to be tilted back gently. A gush of cool, clear water poured down her throat and soothed her dry tongue. She drank greedily until the king pulled the bottle away. He stared at her almost longingly for a moment before he spoke again.

  “Yes, I believe I must have this one,” he mused. “I’ll buy her as well, Numia.”

  Clara licked the remaining water from her lower lip and pulled the droplets into her mouth, hoping the action would somehow give her strength. The urge to give in and shut her eyes was immense, but she fought it with everything that she had. No matter how handsome this alien in front of her was, there was going to be no sleeping with him-er, she thought, because of him. A blush rose into her cheeks as she chased away the naughty thought, and she opened her mouth to speak.

  “You cannot buy something that isn’t for sale, glow boy,” she shot back.

  Riordan’s eyebrows went up in shock and behind him Numia gasped. Ajax looked from his king to the girl, wondering what was about to happen when he saw his friend smile. It was wide and genuine and unexpected, but it was a smile.

  Clara gulped as she took in the exposed fangs of Riordan’s teeth. They had been hidden by his somber expression before, but with his rather handsome smile it was clear to see that the two incisors were incredibly sharp and deadly. They gleamed an almost unnatural white, accentuating the deep pink of his tongue.

  “I think I will like having you in my palace,” he said, reaching out to touch her again. This time his hand closed fully over her cheek, and Clara couldn’t fight the urge to sleep any longer. She closed her eyes and gave into the sweet abyss of darkness as she felt her body being swept up.

  “My Lord, please. Allow me to carry her up for you while you continue choosing servants,” Ajax offered, holding his open arms out for the sleeping woman.

  Riordan shook his head, and turned back towards the crowd that once again immediately began to part for him. “That’s not necessary Ajax,” he replied. “I think I’ll very much like carrying her up myself.”

  Ajax continued to protest as they made their way through the crowd. It was extremely uncommon for the king to do such things himself and it was drawing a lot of stares from the other males in the crowd. None of that mattered to Riordan however. She was warm, and soft, and her head seemed to rest in the crook of his arm in a way that made him think that she was meant to be there.

  When they arrived at his fleet, he carefully poured the unconscious woman onto his mattress in his cabin and went to tell the captain that they could depart for Guardiana, his home planet. As the engines powered up and the ships prepared for hyper speed, Riordan wrapped his muscular arms around the woman and as he closed his eyes.

  CHAPTER 4

  Clara gasped as she woke, not quite sure where she was or what had happened. Bits and pieces of the noisy banquet hall came back to her in a rush. Standing on a stage chained, being displayed as a product, and sold as a slave. But as she looked around her surroundings there were no traces of that place left to see; including her gown. Though there was a sheet pulled over her, she was completely naked beneath it. The room she was in was large and clean, with an open bathroom. A large clear glass tub that was already full of steaming water and a soft bed, as she patted the mattress she was sitting on. In the cathedral ceiling were two skylights, which shone down light that looked very much the same as the sun.

  With shaky hands she took full stock of her body. Except for her hand, nothing hurt or felt bruised, and although she was naked, she could find no evidence of foul play. Pulling her hand left hand away from the sheet, she held it up to the light. She could see a burn in the shape of a crest in her palm. Though it still stung, she could tell it was nearly healed, making her wonder just how long she had been asleep. Even more so, waking up naked was almost as shocking as waking up in a jail cell. Getting out of bed, she wrapped the sheet around herself and began to walk around the room, wanting to examine her surroundings closer. She was just about to dip her hand into the inviting looking water when she caught sight of the door disappearing.

  A short, stocky woman with peach colored skin and pointed ears walked into the room, wearing nothing but a white tunic that rode high on her upper thighs. She made a face at Clara as she came in, and wrinkled her nose. For whatever reason, she was not happy to see Clara awake.

  “You’re up,” she barked, all but throwing the armful of garments onto the bed. “The king will be so pleased.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, and Clara was not in the mood to put up with it. She was scared, hungry, and extremely thirsty. She rose up to her full five feet six inches and squared her shoulders as she looked down at the bitter humanoid woman.

  “Let me make something clear,” she began. “I have no idea where I am or why I’m here. I’m naked, which is completely disrespectful, I’m angry, and I’m not above bitch slapping someone out of pure agitation, got it?”

  The smaller woman’s eyes went wide, and she nodded.

  “I don’t want to fight you,” Clara went on, trying to calm down. “I just want to know what’s going on, who this king is, and when I can get home.”

  For the first time the stout woman showed some compassion. She gave Clara a small smile and walked to the bed, patting the spot beside her.

  “Come dear,” she said softly. “I’m afraid you’re in for quite a story.”

  Clara listened intently as the woman, who introduced herself as Twila, explained that her own people had sold her into slavery. The Earth, and soon its moon would be extremely overpopulated, so as most planets did they made a deal wit
h the Guardianites. Though they used the term ‘slave’ often, most owners were kind and even loving. What the Earthmen didn’t know was that after the Guardianites finished with their purchases, they landed illegally and helped themselves to the Earth’s precious remaining resources. What was left of Clara’s planet now was a few evil men and a dying core.

  ~

  Riordan looked at his timepiece in agitation, wanting the council meeting to be over. They had been back to Guardiana for two days now and the human woman had just now awoken. He had felt it in his chest as soon as she opened her eyes. He wasn’t sure how, but in their sleep they had bonded, much like mates did, and now he could feel when she was awake, asleep, happy, or mad. Right now she was awake, and extremely angry.

  At his side Ajax nudged him with his elbow, urging him to pay attention. He had been so preoccupied with the thought of the human Clara that he had spaced out for several minutes. The rest of the council looked up at him in irritation, as if they all knew that he wasn’t paying attention.

  “Could you repeat that please?” Riordan requested. Ajax groaned beside him and dropped his head into his hand.

  “My Lord,” his captain began, fighting to hide his annoyance. “As I was saying, the resources from Earth have been all but drained. With your signature, we will declare it a dead planet, and pull out our forces.”

  Riordan nodded his head, and motioned for the document. Once signed he stood and left the boardroom without another word. His mind was already far away from the matter of Earth.

  “You’re going to see her aren’t you?” Ajax asked, jogging to catch up to his King. “You like her.”

  “She is…suitable,” Riordan replied. He heard Ajax smirk and shot him a steely glare. His friend put his hands up in surrender and veered off down another hallway. Riordan reached the human woman’s door, and with a steadying breath he stepped in, making his presence known.

  To his surprise he found her sitting on the edge of her bed, wearing a white sheer gown that did little to cover her body. She looked over at him as if she had been expecting him, and stood up to fold her arms below her teardrop breasts. Immediately he felt her close off to him, and it annoyed him endlessly.

  “So, you’re the king,” she said in a way of a greeting. If her tone was any inclination, she was in no way impressed with the title.

  Riordan raised an amused eyebrow. “I am,” he replied. “And by my good graces, you are here in a private room, and not in the slaves quarters with all of the others. Perhaps some graciousness instead of sarcasm is in order.”

  “Perhaps,” she shrugged, then ground her teeth in sudden anger. “If you hadn’t just destroyed my entire planet and taken me as a slave!” She yelled, her eyes bright with fury.

  “I saved your life, human,” Riordan shot back. “And I did not kidnap you, I bought you from your president that sold you.” He was filling with agitation, then desire. She looked absolutely delicious in the white dress he’d had brought to her room, and he couldn’t help but notice her breasts trembled as she yelled at him; her chest and cheeks turning a light pink from her passion.

  Clara opened her mouth to yell, but no words came out. Instead, her eyes misted over, her nose turned red, and she let out a soft sob. For the first time since the entire ordeal she felt her fears and worries completely take over, and she began to cry. Unable to be brave anymore, she fell back onto the bed with her head in her hands.

  CHAPTER 5

  For a moment Riordan had no idea what to do. Yes, he’d seen females cry before, and he’d felt for them. But none had made his heart twist in his chest like Clara did, and he didn’t like it.

  “What are you doing?” He asked dumbly.

  “I’m crying you idiot!” She shot back between sobs.

  Riordan stood awkwardly there for a moment. He could leave. He should leave. And yet he wasn’t. Following his feelings, he walked towards the bed and pulled Clara into his arms. Immediately she began to struggle, but Riordan squeezed her to his chest as if she were as weak as a fly, and cradled her head to his chest.

  For a moment Clara fought against his cage like arms, but the effort was futile and she eventually relaxed and sobbed into his shoulder. His body was muscular and warm, especially around his glowing blue markings. She found herself snuggling even deeper into them, inhaling his masculine scent.

  As soon as Riordan felt Clara relax and lean into him he allowed himself a moment to smell her. He caught the feminine scent of her hair. It smelled of wild flowers and honey, an intoxicating combination. In that moment he became fully aware of every part of her curvy body through her thin dress, and it filled his veins with a heated desire. Between his legs, he felt the rush of blood and lust flood his cock, which hardened to a nearly painful to degree. His mind filled with thoughts of lying her down and burying himself deep inside of her. He could already imagine her warm wetness enveloping him, and he bit back a groan and tightened his grip around her as he thought of what her breathy moans of desire would sound like against his pointed ears.

  For several moments he took in heavy breaths, trying to get his desire under control. Despite what other males of his species thought, he didn’t believe that a good romping could always make a woman felt better. He preferred when he made them beg for him, burn for him, need him.

  It seemed to take forever, but the tears finally dried up, and this time when she tried to move her body away he let her. Sitting up, she wiped her eyes and looked everywhere but towards the handsome king that was now apparently her owner. Though she had every right and reason to cry, she was still slightly embarrassed that she had.

  “How is your hand?” Riordan asked, breaking the silence. He felt more control now, and wanted to help her somehow.

  Clara sniffed, and held it up. “It stings,” she answered weakly.

  The king pulled a small silver canister from the pocket of his low slung pants-the only item of clothing he was wearing- and opened it to reveal a bright green salve. This time when he reached for Clara she did not flinch or scowl at him. Instead, she let him take her hand and watched in fascination as he ever so gently rubbed the ointment into her brand. Immediately the pain disappeared, and the burn finished its healing process.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The salve seemed to soothe more than just her burn. A sense of peace washed over her, and she once again leaned heavily into Riordan.

  “You are welcome, Clara,” he responded, holding the tin out for her to take. “Please accept this as a peace offering. It will heal any physical ailment, and sooth, for a small period of time, any emotional ones.”

  She took the tin almost robotically, and sat it down on the bed beside her.

  “This place is so strange,” Clara remarked, her eyes still on her hand. “Everything is so…bright.”

  Riordan chuckled as he pocketed the tin with one hand, and continued massaging her palm with the other.

  “I suppose you would think that,” he remarked. Though your planet had many naturally bright colors, your people muted them. Everything seemed to have a dark, gray hue to it.”

  “My planet,” Clara echoed. “It’s all gone then?”

  In the next moment Riordan did something he’d never done in his life, and was sure that his late father had never done in his either. He apologized. To him, taking over planets, especially willing ones, was just business. It was why his planet thrived while others dwindled for a millennia or two then burned themselves out.

  “Many if not all of the women and children were sold to us. Your species lives, but without your males,” Riordan said, hoping it would ease her somehow.

  “What will happen to them?” Clara asked, her eyes full of concern. Riordan saw her compassion glow in her emerald eyes, and he felt the annoying little tug at his heart again.

  “It depends on who buys them,” he explained, wanting to be honest as possible. “Some will be used as teachers and cooks by good families. Others may be sold to the pleasure ho
uses or the crueler families. My people are naturally dominant, all of us alphas. However, my species, by all accounts that I’ve witnessed anyways, is still more humane than yours.”

  Then, for the first time since the entire ordeal started, Clara laughed.

  ~

  1 minute after Riordan left Twila appeared holding a tray of assorted foods and a large silver pitcher of cold water. Clara ate ravenously. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten, and the last water she’d had had been from the king’s hand at the market. The food itself was strange looking, but overall delicious and filling.

  Riordan had comforted her for a surprisingly long time. He sat and talked with her about his planet and his people, and a little about himself. He explained that she would be receiving a job, and that he would be back as soon as he found one suitable for her. Almost professionally, he had asked her what job she had performed on the moon, and listened intently as she told him about her responsibilities with NASA.

  Clara asked Twila what she thought the king might have her do, the woman’s purple eyebrows went up in surprise.

  “I thought this was it,” she replied, waving her hand over the room.

  “What do you mean?” Clara asked, confused.

  “These chambers,” Twila explained, her cheeks turning blue in an odd blush, “they are the rooms reserved for the king’s favorite courtesan.”

  This time it was Clara’s turn to blush. A crimson red blossomed in her cheeks as her eyes went wide with a mixture of shock and desire. Yes, for an alien he was extremely handsome, there was no doubt about that. He had muscles for days, and those glowing tattoo things were really starting to appeal to her. Still, she shook her head in disbelief.