“We’ll have to write our own dictionary,” she jokes. “The Velorian’s Guide to Human Slang—for Beginners.”
I am pleasantly surprised by how well she fits into my solitary life, like a key into a lock. Then again, perhaps Anna is different than most—a skeleton key, capable of fitting in anywhere and making changes for the better. She is easily the most adaptable person I have ever encountered, and it does not surprise me that she managed to scrape out a living all these years, keepin her brother safe and fed. I admire her for far more than her physical beauty. But as she sits beside me in the ship’s main room, close enough for me to feel her heat, I find my heart racing at the brush of her fingers against mine as she reaches for the remote. She shows me some human vid, wherein most of the references race over my head. I pay more attention to the brilliant white of her smile in the dark than I do to the people on the screen.
That night, I lie in my bed, happily paralyzed with the thought of another day spent in her company. But I am already beginning to realize that this cannot last. I cannot allow myself to become too used to her company. My dragon will be become dependent upon it, and I cannot risk that. I will drop her back on Earth, as soon as her brother is safe and the Red Novas no longer pose a threat any innocents. Objectively, I know that Earth is the best place for her to be. She can build a life there, among her own people. It will be best for both of us.
Anna sleeps through breakfast in the morning, and I do not bother attempting to wake her. She joins me for lunch in the main wing of the ship and jokes about eating twice as much to make up for the missed meal. We sit together in the cockpit, as I take over the controls to weave carefully through a field of asteroids, and she laughs at the intricate rolls of the ship that would make most humans sicken with nausea or with fear.
“Jackson would love this,” she says breathlessly, when we slow down at last. We switch seats for a few minutes once the danger has cleared and I show her where to put her hands. I tell myself that it would be proper protocol for anyone I happened to be sharing a ship with. On a large crew, there would always be more than one potential pilot in case something happened to the first, but on a small skiff like this one with only two people, both should know at least the basics. Admittedly, this also gives me a chance to touch her warm skin, to lean in close from behind her and inhale her sweet scent.
She has the basics, but when she tries a more complex turn, the ship tilts with quickness she isn’t expecting. Anna holds both hands up, an edge of nervousness to her smile as I step around her and switch the controls back to their earlier autopilot setting. “You make that look much easier than it is,” she says.
“Most Velorians learn in the military. I’ve done it so much that it’s second nature now. You did very well for your first attempt in space. Perhaps your brother can learn while I return the two of you to Earth. Even if he knows just a bit, it will give him a leg up if he’s still interested in piloting as a career. I believe there’s a flight academy on one of the stations near—”
Too late, I realize that Anna’s face has frozen. My words cut off abruptly when I notice the expression. I identify it as one of dawning hurt. It takes her a moment to find her voice and her words quickly make me regret my own. “I don’t want to go back to Earth ... I can’t take Jackson there. Where will we go?”
Her voice is calm as she speaks, and it only takes her a moment to rein in the shock and worry in her expression. It seems as though she truly hasn’t considered the possibility of returning. It never occurred to her that this mission could conclude with she and her brother touching down on her home planet once more, this time there to stay. I can sense the panic in her scent and in the quick desperation of her breathing. The same feelings of unease begin to rise within me, as though by standing so close I am absorbing some part of her fear. It is not a phenomenon I have ever experienced with another person—not even another Velorian, and it causes something to occur to me.
“Perhaps you don’t have to,” I say. “Your place may very well be here with me. Haven’t you enjoyed yourself?”
I feel guilty as soon as the words are out in the open. It was the wrong thing to say, implying that she is simply vacationing here while her brother may be in danger. It is presumptuous of me to assume that she even wants to stay with me. The fact that she does not consider Earth her home does not mean that she has found such with me. She may very well wish to find another planet or a station, to start somewhere from scratch under a new name with no ties to the Red Novas or to the Velorian officer who took her from them. The words are impulsive, and likely more attributed to my dragon than to any other part of me.
“I apologize for the way I phrased that,” I add quickly. “But the sentiment is true. I care for you more than I can recall caring about anyone, and I truly don’t want you to leave. I had only planned to take you to Earth, because I assumed you would happier there than stuck on a ship with me.”
“I feel the same,” she answers. “Not about being stuck with you—I would love to be stuck on a ship with you. I’ve never felt this way either. I know I’ve only known you a few days, but it feels like so much longer. I already can’t imagine leaving you. But how do we know that it’s real?”
I have the same questions she does, though perhaps they are overlaid with different fears. How can I be sure that this is not simply some passing infatuation? It takes a moment, but I soon realize that there is already a solution built into my culture. It isn’t exactly simple, but it is certainly worth a shot. However it ends, at least we will know if this is meant to last. If it isn’t, and if Earth is still not something Anna is willing to consider as an option, I will help her find somewhere else. After her assistance in this investigation, it will be the least I can do.
“We could mate,” I suggest. “If we mate, then we’ll know.”
Anna does not seem disgusted by the offer. If anything, there is rising anticipation in her eyes. At the moment though, it is mixed with confusion, and I decide elaboration is necessary.
“According to Velorian history, soulmates can locate each other. Without realizing it, they are often pulled toward each other. Their lives often bring them to the same places. Sometimes they find each other; other times they simply cross paths, each feeling the connection, but perhaps not recognizing it. I always assumed it was an exaggeration, but I cannot say I do not feel pulled toward you. If we mate, and we are meant to be, the tether between us can never be broken.”
She surprises me by looking intrigued at the idea. There is no fear in her eyes, only curiosity and genuine interest. “I always thought they were just stories too,” she confesses. I must look surprised because she adds, smirking: “I told you I knew my fair share of Velorian myths. I’m not the most traditional girl, if you haven’t figured that out yet. The whole soulmate thing actually sounds kind of … incredibly romantic.”
I raise a brow, my blood beginning to pump faster through my veins. “Is that a yes?”
Smirking, Anna steps closer. “It’s a yes. And, well...” Her smile loses some of its edge. “If we’re not meant to be … we can still have fun finding out.”
I return the smile. She is right, as she always seems to be. It is a far less depressing way of viewing this. Perhaps we are not two parts of the same machine, and someday, we will each meet someone else who makes us feel more alive than this. I cannot imagine it, but it could still be true. Then again, perhaps we belong to each other. I want more than anything for this to be the outcome. I do not know how to exist in the same space as another person, much less a person who loves me, but for her, I would learn.
Her thoughts seem to mirror my own.
“Fingers crossed,” she whispers, and rises up onto her toes to kiss me.
10
Anna
When I pull away, I feel nothing but the same excitement and need that I felt two nights ago. It surprises me now just as much as it did then. My attraction to him still confuses me; he is, objectively speaking, a beautiful
creature with symmetrical features, strength, and skill that make him attractive from a certain perspective, but I do not quite understand how such an attraction can transcend the boundaries of our separate species. Mathios sees the question on my face and waits for me to state it before moving forward.
“I’m confused,” I admit. “By all rights, I should be afraid of you—of this. You’re an alien. You have a tail.”
There is laughter in both his smile and his eyes, but somehow, he keeps his voice serious when he speaks. “I agree,” he answers. “I do, in fact, have a tail.” He moves it as he speaks, the ice-blue length of it swinging from side to side. “It’s very useful. Would you like to see?”
The caution in my answering nod is only for the sake of being playful.
Mathios closes what little distance remains between us. I knew he was strong and powerful simply from watching him fight, but I do not think that I understood the full scope of it until I feel his hands on me in such a way. He lifts me without an ounce of effort, holding me close to him with just one arm. When he leaps upward, he uses the other arm to catch hold of the one of the metal rafters that crosses the ceiling of the ship. It has as little trouble supporting his weight as Mathios does with mine. He quickly wraps his tail around the beam, leaving us dangling from this single point of strength. I feel slight alarm for just a moment before seeing the relaxed look on his face and realizing that he has complete control.
Somehow, with both of Mathios’s arms around me, this knowledge does not lessen the thrill. I laugh freely, without any worry of falling as Mathios kisses me again. I melt into it, muscles going lax under hands that seem far more skilled than my own. The fingers of one hand trail along my spine, leaving an icy trail, before coming to rest at the small of my back and pulling me closer. Perhaps I should be nervous still. After all, this is my first experience with enthusiastically kissing an alien warrior while hanging from the rafters of a ceiling.
I should be nervous, at the very least, but somehow I wholeheartedly trust that he will not let me go.
Looking past the pleasure of the current situation, past the danger of falling, this should still be one of the worst times of my life. I have run away from my farce of a home. I only narrowly escaped being sold into slavery. I have lost my brother, my only family, and have yet to find him again. And yet, as Mathios twines one hand in my hair, fingers gently unraveling my braid even as his lips keep their contact with my own, I have never felt more at peace.
Trouble aside, now that I’m here, I can’t see the decisions that brought me here as a mistake, impulsive though they were. Even tracing my choices as far back as allowing Lukas to talk me from the Earth and onto his ship, I have no true regrets. In this moment, it seems obvious to me that I have ended up exactly where I am supposed to be. Perhaps that is all a soulmate is—finding someone against all odds, out of all the billions of souls in the vast blackness of space, and knowing that some part of you matches perfectly.
Even if this proves that our names are not written side-by-side in the stars, I know I will not regret this moment, or the moments that are destined to follow.
My hands find the clasps of his spacesuit, undoing them bit by bit, revealing increasingly tantalizing portions of his chiseled chest. I make further progress, peeling the suit back and pressing my fingers to the firmness of his stomach. His cock is growing hard against my thigh and I feel a throbbing sensation begin between my legs, as if the nerves there have developed their own heartbeat. There is surprise mixed with pleasure in his eyes as I push the suit lower still. Mathios frees the hand in my hair to assist me, shoving the suit over his hips and deftly kicking the garment off. It falls slowly to the floor of the ship below us, like an open parachute.
His hands move to my own suit in turn, finding the clasp with much more ease than I had locating his. He strips it from me with a quick efficiency that makes me laugh, face pressed to the juncture of his neck and shoulder as he frees first my shoulders, then my breasts. His hands do not pause in the midst of this to explore, to catalogue this newly gained territory. Rather, he waits until the end, when my suit has joined his in the floor of the ship, two puddles of cloth melding into one. Mathios leans back, roving his eyes over the whole of my body bared to him at once. His eyes grow hungry without ever losing their softness.
“Beautiful,” he says, and I know we are both remembering our earlier argument, the first time he called me this and the brief moments of passion that ensued. “Everything about you is beautiful.”
He places a hand over each of my breasts, his thumbs tweaking the soft pink nipples and teasing them to hardness before migrating lower. His palms are much wider than my own, and the breadth of his fingers seems impossible. He trails them down, over my hips and to my ass before easily lifting me higher. His hand slips down, sliding into the space between my legs and staying there as he ravishes my neck with bruising kisses. I gasp out “Yes,” followed by, “Please.”
“Don’t stop.” I say the words imploringly. He only takes the opportunity to tease me once more, moving his fingers further down, away from the spot that brings such great pleasure, and trailing them lightly along my thighs. “You bastard,” I say, panting. His laugh sounds just as breathless. I wrap my arms around his neck, using the leverage to position his thigh between my legs and regain the blissful feeling he stopped providing.
“I like this,” I tell him, moving one hand to brush over the marks left on my neck. He smiles, nearly feral with desire, and presses another kiss over a mark that I already know will linger for days.
“And this?” he asks, lowering his head to a breast and drawing a nipple into his mouth.
“Yes,” I say, gasping. “That too.”
His hand finally returns to the place I’ve been waiting for, stimulating me with the precision of a surgeon. My legs clench hard around his thigh, wetness dripping down in such large proportions that I blush to think he can feel it. I trail the fingers of one hand down his back, brushing over the spines that line it and am immensely satisfied to hear him gasp in pleased shock, in the same manner that I have been doing. When I reach upward, and circle with one careful finger the smaller spines on his tail, his already hard cock seems to lengthen further. I wrap one hand around it and his careful, unbroken ministrations falter for a moment in rhythm, his groan stirring my hair.
Tremors wrack their way through me, the beginnings of a climax on its way. My head falls back as I breathe through the curtain of pleasure. My eyes close in the midst of it, and I see bursts of color and white, searing lights. I have brought myself to orgasm before, lying in my bed, on quiet nights, but it has never once been this intense. It takes me a long moment to come back to myself; while I am waiting, it feels like drifting in space with stars all around. I open my eyes to see Mathios looking right into them. His pupils are blown, wide with want, and I can still feel the undeniable evidence of his arousal pressed against me. I am still held with his thigh between my legs, but now I can feel the slickness there, the incessant tingling of my own desire that has not faded even now. This has been amazing, but it is not enough. It is not mating, and as much as I want more, I also simply need to know.
“I want you inside of me,” I say, and though at one point I would have been embarrassed at saying such a thing, I feel nothing but anticipation. I do not bother to lower my voice to whisper. We have an entire ship to ourselves, and outside, there is nothing on the radar for countless miles.
“I won’t object to that,” Mathios says, absently tracing patterns on the skin of my bare chest, the light touches making me shiver.
He shifts position a bit, seemingly figuring out the logistics of doing something more complex in such a situation. I raise an eyebrow and look pointedly at the floor. “You could always let us down,” I suggest.
The small smirk he has been wearing since making me climax grows wider. “It will be more memorable up here,” he says. “I think we should stay.” He bobs his tail a little, making us bounce ever
so slightly in the air, and it makes me laugh to see his gaze settle hungrily on my jiggling breasts.
I shake my head at what, coming from anyone else, would seem a ridiculous proposition, but I am smiling as I do so. I won’t deny him this, but if we are to continue, there is something he needs to know.
“I’m a virgin,” I say, and this time, I do whisper, as though ashamed of the meaning of the word. “Lukas and I—we never did this. He was … stupidly traditional about marriage. He demanded nothing less than...” I don’t want to say purity because the memories twist my stomach and I’m dizzyingly happy right now.
Mathios shakes his head. “There is nothing to be embarrassed about. If you do not wish to continue, I will understand. I want you to feel comfortable, whatever you choose.” He pauses, humor sliding back into his eyes. “Technically speaking though, you are my property.” He presses a rough kiss to my forehead. “Perhaps I should just take you.”
The words have the intended effect of making me laugh, of turning my body loose and languid again in relaxation. I cannot deny, though, that the thought of being taken in such a way also makes me shiver to hear. I don’t think he meant it to affect me in this way, and that adds to the taboo of my reaction. My cheeks heat; my core aches for him.
I find his eyes, pleased to see the hunger there, and I dare I say the adoration, matches what I feel being projected from my own. “Perhaps you should,” I say.
Mathios smiles. And he does.
His mouth claims mine, as he takes himself in hand. My hands braced on his body, I lift myself up several careful inches so that he can guide himself to my entrance. It is not ‘taking’ me in the traditional sense of the word, as he makes sure that I know I am in full control of how far this goes. But his easy confidence makes it feel as though he is. As I lower myself onto the length of him, a bit longer, a bit thicker, than the average human man, I find that I am already so wet from our earlier fun that I scarcely feel the slightest expected twinge of discomfort. There is the intense, entirely new, sensation of stretching—of Mathios pressed inside of me, filling me up—but it’s not an unpleasant one. He pulls back from the long kiss he was absorbed in, his breathing faltering a bit.
Primal Planet Guardian_A Science Fiction Alien Romance Page 7
