by Marie Dry
“Take me to bed,” she whispered, the words slipping out before she realized her own intention.
She’d barely whispered the words when she found herself next to her bed, still kissing him. At times like this, she really appreciated his speed.
He slowly unbuttoned her blouse. He took his time, opening each button with precise movements, his knuckles caressing the inside of her breasts, between her ribs, and her stomach as he moved down. He seemed in no hurry, all his concentration on his task. As if nothing in the world was as important as undressing her. Her stomach had a hollow fluttering feeling and she didn’t know if it was pleasure, anticipation or sheer nerves.
She thought maybe, if there was a medical emergency, he might consider what he was doing now more important. It was a heady feeling, being the focus of that much interest.
He spanned her hips with his hands and then moved them up, counted her ribs with his thumbs and then cupped her breasts before he moved up to cup her cheeks in his large hands. He rubbed a rough thumb over her cheek.
“Why are your fingers so rough? Is it the building?”
“Sword practice,” he said while his thumb kept rubbing her cheek. “I do not understand why I like your spots.”
She closed her eyes and spoke through clenched teeth. “You call them that, and I will feed you a knuckle sandwich. My freckles will never be discussed. Ever.”
“They please me now. That is all that should be important to you.”
She snorted. She didn’t see how freckles could please anyone.
He picked her up and laid her down on the bed. “This is important, this tradition is centuries old.” He took off her blouse. “I will do it better than any Zyrgin has done before.”
“What tradition?”
He pushed the loose white pants with the elastic waist band off her hips and pulled it down and off her. “The first knowing.”
“What does the first knowing entail?” Maybe she should put a stop to this. Who knew what kind of traditions they had, especially considering they called women breeders.
“You have to stay still. I will arrange you in the proper fashion and you will not move or speak.”
“I’m not the passive type,” she warned him.
“For this, you will be obedient.”
She resisted the urge to smirk at him. She was curious to see what this first knowing was all about, but still and silent had never described her.
“This is the first knowing.”
“So you have said, get on with it, already.”
He looked down at her and his eyes turned red. No tendrils gradually mixing in with the black. They simply turned red like a calm sea suddenly stormy.
“So if we do this first knowing, what does it mean?” She had visions of being bonded forever and a day, and she still didn’t know what she felt for him. If she could do this with their enemy. If she wanted the relationship that was building between them. And she worried what he would do if she ever tried to walk away from him.
He carefully arranged her hair, taking his time, seeming to know where he wanted each strand. “I will prove to you that I am a warrior with honor, that I can please my breeder. You will be grateful and proud to be my breeder.”
As if she was a doll, he arranged her hair, her hands above her head, and her legs slightly apart. When she moved he stopped and stared at her. “You are to remain still, if you move I have to start over.”
“What happens if you don’t start over? The sex police come and arrest you?”
“I lose all honor as a Zyrgin warrior.”
“Only the two of us will know.”
He leaned down and it was not a loving gesture. “I would know.”
She blinked, decided to change the subject. “Why can’t I move?”
He paused in arranging her hair. “Do not speak either.”
While he continued to arrange her hair to his satisfaction, she frowned up at him. “What gave you the idea that I’m capable of following orders, of staying still and quiet?”
“You will learn.”
He stroked and rearranged her hair until she wanted to whistle with boredom, but then he moved on to caress her brow and trace the shape of her nose, her chin, and jaw with absolute concentration and, suddenly, she was warm and wanted to fidget. Those rough fingertips, rough from wielding a sword regularly, drove her crazy. The thought of him wielding a sword, his muscled body naked and glistening made her gasp, and she clenched her thighs together.
“I will start over.”
“Okay but promise me something.”
“What?”
“One day will you practice with your sword while you’re naked and let me watch.”
He stared down at her and she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking, if he was angry or turned on by her request.
“No.”
“What, why, I think it would be hot.”
“It would not be proper behaviour for a warrior, you will be quiet and still.”
She’d be quiet and still for now but she’d get her way sometime. He went back to arranging her hair. By this time he probably had some intricate braid going on there. At last he moved onto her face again and she held still and quiet because she loved feeling his rough fingertips against her skin. And she was curious to see where this was going.
He moved down and circled her neck with his hand, almost as if he measured it, then moved down and traced her collarbones with slow deliberate care that he managed to make unbearably sexy. She would’ve never thought it, but her collar bone was an erogenous zone. And why her left collarbone reacted so strongly to his touch was a mystery to her. She had a huge naked alien looming over her, she was in the most vulnerable position a woman could be with a man and all she felt was safe and cherished. All these months, while he’d been teaching her, he had also cared for her. He fed her before she could be hungry, put his body in front of her when there was danger, and didn’t tolerate other men near her.
It was as if he’d conditioned her for this moment. To ensure that she responded, that the mere feel and sight and smell of him would arouse her beyond bearing.
“I think I’m going to burn up, you must have some kind of laser in your hands that bring my skin to life until it burned.”
“Quiet, you will respect the first knowing.”
He cupped her left breast and she jerked, an involuntary motion, and he looked up at her. They stared at each other like what felt for hours, but might only be seconds before he moved up her body and started at her hair again.
“What on earth are you doing with my hair every time?”
His hands stilled in her hair and then he spoke next to her ear, causing goose bumps to break out all over her body when his breath slithered over her ear. “You do not speak.”
“Because in all the time we’ve known each other, I’d been such a quiet retiring person.”
“You may be as outspoken as you wish tomorrow, tonight you will be properly behaved for the first knowing.”
Pretending to be put upon, she flopped her hands, palm up, next to her head, the way he’d arranged them earlier. “All right then, suitable silence and stillness from me,” she said.
She could’ve sworn he snorted. He spent forever on her hair, and she grew sleepy from his slow deliberate movements with her hair that translated into gentle soothing caresses on her scalp. She was starting to worry about falling asleep and maybe snoring lying on her back like this, when he moved on to her face and down and suddenly she was wide awake. Every nerve ending in her body responding. She almost sobbed with pleasure when he traced her left collarbone, but forced herself to remain still. He moved on to cup her breasts and lightly pinched her nipples.
“Tomorrow you will tell me everything you feel when I do this.” He traced around her nipple and then rubbed the underside of her breasts with his thumbs. Like her collarbone, the intense pleasure she experienced took her unawares. She was learning she was sensitive in unexpected places. Or maybe just
to his touch.
“Your body pleases me.” He moved on to her ribs and then cupped her hips before moving down. He touched her everywhere, those wicked thumbs stroking over her clit on his way down to her toes. And so help her, her toes were even more sensitive than her collarbone. He made his way up and when he massaged the inside of her upper thigh, his fingers grazing her clit, her hips jerked and she couldn’t suppress a long moan, a low roll of her hips. She barely heard the sound, her ears drumming with the pleasure.
He started over and she moaned. “No please, I can’t stand it, please don’t start over, come inside me. We can do the first knowing afterward.”
Ignoring her, he went back to her hair, only this time she didn’t feel soothed and sleepy. Each deliberate movement against her scalp aroused her unbearably.
“I will accept your ugly red hair.”
“What do you mean ugly? It’s considered unusual and, therefore, very beautiful among humans.”
It had been the bane of her childhood but since she hit puberty it had garnered her all the right interest any teenager could hope for in boys.
“It’s the color of eyes.”
“Oh.” She supposed from his perspective it was creepy.
“On you, it is beautiful. Now, you will be quiet and still.”
She moved restlessly, her body on fire. “Who came up with this first knowing anyway? Whoever it was must’ve been a sadist.”
“It is so old no one know where it started, but every Zyrgin will honor his breeder this way.”
“What would happen if you didn’t...uh...honor me?”
“I would be a warrior without honor, incapable of being trusted to do any honorable task because I did not take the time to learn my breeder’s body.”
“I see.” In that case, she’d be still and quiet. She knew how important his honor was to him. That was one of the things she admired about him. “I’ll be still,” she promised him and silently vowed to stay still no matter how much he tortured her with pleasure. It might kill her, but she’d endure first knowing for him. Even if it killed her with desire.
She was convinced it was a promise she could keep until he retraced his steps with his lips. Driving her nearly out of her mind with the way he nibbled and sucked and kissed and took soft bites out of her skin while he made his way down her body. Wherever he licked or bit, fierce soul-destroying pleasure spread over her skin. She wanted to ask him what the hell he did to her, what he had in his mouth, but then he’d stop and start all over again and she didn’t have it in her to endure it again, she would vaporise or something.
The obvious pleasure he took in her body made her want to stretch long and sensuously. She bit the inside of her cheek and concentrated on keeping still while the pleasure he spread with his mouth consumed her until her ears roared and she could barely see.
He nibbled on her toes and reversed direction and then moved up but, this time, he parted her legs, settled, and put his mouth squarely on her. She came with a scream. It lasted forever, the pleasure rippling through her while her body went taunt and sight and sound disappeared under a rush of pleasure.
When she came back to her body, she found him staring down at her. “You know it’s really disconcerting that you don’t show emotion.”
“We do show emotions, humans are not advanced enough to read us.”
Madison rolled her eyes. He might be a miracle in bed, but that ego would never change. “How long does the first knowing last?” She didn’t think that magnificent orgasm was the last of this first knowing business.
“Six hours.”
“What?” She moved her legs up, up, and, planting them on his chest, she pushed and prepared to lunge off the bed and run. Except she pushed and nothing happened.
He cocked his head. “Is this a new human position you want us to try. After the first knowing, I am happy to do that with you.”
“Get off me.” She pushed harder and he didn’t budge. “My next boyfriend will be reed thin and pushable,” she muttered.
The atmosphere changed. He grabbed her ankles, drew her legs wide, and settled between them. “You will never have a boyfriend. Only me.” He hissed the words, as if he couldn’t speak properly.
“No other men, I promise.” There were times when it was better to capitulate.
She thought he’d make love to her, be deep inside her at last, but he moved to her hair again.
“You’re not serious?”
He started arranging her hair again and she moaned, a long, frustrated moan.
“You will be quiet.”
“No, you’re trying to kill me with pleasure,” she wailed.
There was no way she could be still and quiet for another round of “let’s torture the redhead with unbearable pleasure and make her stay quiet for it.”
“You will not die from this pleasure.” This time he took even longer with her hair, caressed every inch of her face and ears and, when he stroked his fingers behind her ears, she shivered and convulsed, her body going taut with her orgasm. Damn, behind her ears was an erogenous zone as well. She’d just come from him touching her there. She didn’t know if she should be worried or elated over that.
He stopped the delicious caressing of the tender skin behind her ears. “You moved, I will start over.”
“Will you have mercy if I cry? I promise to be still and quiet if you’d let me rest for a bit.”
He leaned down until they were nose to nose. “I will give you the first knowing, not mercy.”
She sighed with all the drama she could manage. “Please tell Rachel she can have my TC and music and tell my family I died with a happy grin on my face.”
“You will not die,” he said. “I will keep you healthy.”
Of course he would take that literally. Damn alien.
Then he started messing with her hair again and she couldn’t think, all her concentration needed to stay still and quiet.
She had all these strange conflicting emotions tearing her apart while her body trembled with the need that he created with his wicked hands and mouth. She was flattered at the amount of attention he paid to her pleasure, but also worried that he’d really do it for six hours.
“Your mouth is of better quality than other humans.” He kissed her, a deep passionate kiss that made her cross eyed with an overload of pleasure. She forgot she wanted to tell him his compliments needed some work, forgot she was supposed to stay still and quiet, forgot her own name.
“I will start over.”
She screamed in sheer frustration when she realized she had her hands on his beautiful shoulders. She pummelled him and tried to kick him as well.
He held her down until she was quiet, tears running down her cheeks. “ I can’t take anymore.”
He rubbed the tears away with his thumb, continuing the soft caress on her cheek even when her tears dried up. “I will honor you and you will remain still and quiet.”
“All right, but I’ll get you for this, one night when you’re sleeping I’ll get you with my baseball bat.”
He cocked his head again and then evidently decided he had nothing to fear from her baseball bat.
He arranged her hair again and she seriously considered shaving off her hair if making love in future was going to be like this. He followed the same path and brought her to orgasm with his hand and then started at her hair again, until he widened her legs and slowly entered her. It took every inch of willpower she had not to move, to moan, to grab onto him and make him take them both through the little death. He stared down at her, as if he wanted to see every reaction every stroke of pleasure she felt.
He was hot and pulsing and the slow deliberate way he invaded her body was unbearably erotic. He’d teased her so much, she was so wet, he entered easily. The way he stared into her eyes while he did it was so hot she almost came from the intimacy of the moment alone.
He continued to push forward until at last he was deep inside and, still, they stared at each other in a moment where no
words were needed. He was an alien, an invader of her world, but at that moment they were one soul, in perfect accord.
He gripped her hips and started to move, slow deceptively lazy glides in and out of her body. Pleasure so intense it felt like sparks going off in her womb rushed through her.
When she tightened around him and cried out her ecstasy, he leaned down and kissed her open mouth. The pleasure peaked even higher and she keened helplessly.
She came to and he was messing with her hair again. “Want my baseball bat,” she muttered.
He leaned down and, without stopping his arranging of her hair, lifted a big club onto the bed. “Use mine.”
She was dumbfounded, her body so sated and sluggish she doubted he could get her worked up again, no matter how many times he went at her from head to toe. “Where did that came from?”
Unless he destroyed her memory with his relentless lovemaking, she never had a club under her bed before.
She frowned up at the alien looking down at her. “Why did you put a club under my bed?”
“You do not need to know that. You will trust your warrior and hit me with the club.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer and handed her the club. She was tempted to brain him for making her stay still through that torture. She lightly tapped his head with the club and he took it and hid it under the bed again. He didn’t change expression but satisfaction emanated from him.
Madison shrugged. Who knew what weird after sex rituals aliens had.
He touched her hair, lifted it as if he wanted to see the light shine through it.
“What are you doing?”
“I am learning my breeder.”
She didn’t like the determination with which he said it. She peaked down and to her relief found him aroused. She stroked his chest, lingered on the vein running from his chin to his chest. More pronounced than those of humans. “You are beautiful.”
