The Lost Planet Series: Boxed Set: Books 1-5

by K. Webster

  Her frown is my undoing and I find myself heeding to her sweet unspoken demands without further argument. I run my claw along her slit, reveling in the way her body jolts. Intensity burns in her gaze and this is the first time since she was awoken that she looks alive. Truly alive. Using my other hand, I greedily rove my palm across her hip bone and pull aside one of her folds. I’m curious to see what hides inside.

  A small bud.

  Pink and swollen.

  Like that of a lilapetal.

  I wonder if it smells sweet, too.

  Retracting my thumb claw, I rub along the bud. She arches her back and sputters out a moan mixed with a cough. I panic, but then she urges me on.

  “More, Calix.”

  Another growl rumbles from me as I give her little bud more attention. Her arousal becomes heady in the air. It is so thick I could bottle it up and inhale it later. I watch her expressions, listen for her sounds, and take note of the way her body moves. Quickly, I learn what makes her feel good.

  She climbs and climbs and climbs.

  So many times, I have climbed that same steep slope. Alone, in my quarters. My hand wrapped around my thick length. Imagining my own little alien naked and squirming beneath me. I would spill and spill. Over and over again. But I was always alone. There was never a fall, just the lonely climb.

  Yet, now?

  Together, we climb.

  Up, up, up.

  The pleasure I felt physically now saturates every part of my insides. Like I’m infected with a disease, but one I would gladly die from.

  She reaches her delicate hand my way and I groan when her fingertips graze along my aching cock in my minnasuit. Her movements match the way I touch her. Frantic and desperate.

  Climb and climb and climb.

  A croaked moan rattles from her and it lures out a groan of my own. Her body silently shudders as my seed spills unapologetically into my minnasuit. There is no room for shame as our eyes greedily seek out the other.

  Fall and fall and fall.

  Together we fall.

  Into something.

  We’ll never be alone again.

  3

  Emery

  I can’t breathe, but for once, it doesn’t scare me and send me into a panic that only worsens the symptoms. Instead, I’m calm…happy. He scurries off to a closeted area. I hear some running water and some shuffling before he returns wearing a new skintight suit that accentuates how well-endowed he is.

  It’s a struggle, but I sit up to get a better look at him, wrapping the warm sheet over my shoulders. Calix’s hands stroke down my body as it still quakes with aftershocks. He whispers nonsensical sweet words into my ear and I turn my face into his neck, my hand diving into the thick scruff of his close-cropped hair. He doesn’t keep it long, like the others. Not my sexy scientist. He inches back, his dark eyes locked on mine, and I lift a hand to trace the pronounced edges of his cheekbones, the bony ridges of his prominent brow.

  When he doesn’t object, I tug him closer, lifting to fit my mouth to the firm curve of his, pressing a kiss to his lips. Despite the orgasm he’s just given me, I find myself pulling closer, my breathing labored, hoping for him to deepen our kiss, but he doesn’t. In my world, I’d never been bold. My sickness had left me on the sidelines of my own life. I watched instead of participating. I’d observed instead of experiencing.

  I’ve been the one receiving orders instead of giving them. Calix is all too happy to follow my lead and the power of being in charge is intoxicating. He’s so different, so kind, to me. When he touched me between my legs, I wasn’t shy. I was…bold. The kind of woman I always wanted to be. So when I see my own need reflected in his eyes, I ask for the one thing I never wished for back in my old life…more.

  When he doesn’t open his mouth to mine during another attempt, I pull back. “Do they kiss here?”

  His hungry eyes are on my lips. I lick them and his growl vibrates in his chest. His own forked tongue flashes out to scent the air, reminding me of a snake. The sexiest snake I’ve ever seen. And just as dangerous and thrilling. “I have overheard Breccan and Aria talking about kiss.”

  “Kissing,” I correct gently. I’ve never wanted something so much in my life. How would that tongue feel with mine? I want to know.

  “Kissing,” he repeats slowly. “What does it mean?”

  I scoot over on the exam table as he perches by my side. Focusing on answering the question helps distract me from jumping him any more than I already have. If I had blood left in my face to blush, it’d be beet red. “Well, you press your lips together like we were. Sometimes, you open your mouths and rub your tongues together.” I pause, considering my words. “It doesn’t sound as attractive as it is, but it’s much more pleasant while you’re actually doing it.”

  His forked tongue flicks out again. My stomach seizes. “What is the purpose of this kissing?” he asks. When he speaks, he lifts one sharply nailed claw to scrap against my lower lip. Considering his job, it makes me wonder if he views everything with such an intense curiosity. It should make me feel like a test subject, but it’s flattering. Where else would he direct his studious nature? The possibilities are more intriguing than I want to admit.

  Too intriguing.

  My breath freezes in my chest and I pull away when he leans forward for another kiss.

  He frowns. “Did I do it wrong?” he asks. “Are you feeling ill?”

  “No, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong at all. In fact, you’re doing everything so, so right.”

  I press a hand to my head where common sense wars with my excitement. It was my bad decisions on my part in the past that led me to this foreign planet in the first place. Despite how attracted I am to Calix and how much I want a repeat of his hands on me, I can’t forget that he’s a stranger…and my only hope at surviving.

  “Then why do you wilt, my lilapetal?” His claws tangle in my hair, the ends lightly massaging my scalp, soothing the brewing headache beneath.

  My eyes flutter closed. Starved for touch for so long makes being sensible almost impossible, especially when it comes to Calix, apparently. Gooseflesh erupts on my arms and I shiver. Calix, who never seems to miss anything, lifts my arm for closer inspection. His claws retract and the bumpy, thick pads of his overlarge fingers trail gently down my skin. I can practically hear the gears in his brain turning. His intelligence is almost as attractive as the man himself.

  The sensation overwhelms me. Heats my blood and makes me want to purr underneath his touch. I grip his hand to stop him. I want to explain, but the words make my tongue thick and my brain slow, so I stumble over my clarification. “You—I—this was nice. So nice you can’t even imagine. But we should probably take this, us, slow so neither of us gets hurt.”

  Calix looks down at his hands. “Did I injure you? Sometimes we morts do not know our own strength.”

  Baffled, I study his face. Realization hits and I take his hands in my own. “Of course not. It’s a human expression. It means I don’t want either of us to make a mistake. This is all so new. I enjoyed what happened very much—”

  “Then why not do it again?” he asks. “I want to help you, lilapetal, in all ways. Heal your body. Learn about your past. Kiss every inch of your skin.”

  I flush. For someone who doesn’t understand kissing, he certainly has no problem with seduction. “Because we don’t know each other,” is all I can say, and even that tastes like a lie on my tongue.

  “Our bodies know all there is to know, but I have observed Aria and Breccan enough to realize humans require more courting—more words—to be certain of a mate. Your voice is sweet to my ears, Emery-mine. I will listen to whatever you want to tell me. Come, we will get more comfortable.”

  He helps me down from the table and leads me to a sitting area on the other side of the labs. Grabbing an extra lab coat, which is slung over the back of a well-worn chair constructed of some sort of leather or hide, he helps cover me as I trade the sheet for the lab
coat. The ancient couch to its right has faded so much the original color is indiscernible. When we sit on it, the cushions give underneath, causing me to lean into his side. Based on his self-satisfied grin, I know that is exactly his plan.

  His fingers lift to the pulse hammering at my throat and he hums in approval. These aliens are sure a touchy-feely bunch if his actions are anything to judge by. Which reminds me… “If you want to know more about me, then I want to know more about you.” I lift a brow. “Fair’s fair.”

  He fits me into his side, half-lying against his body. It’s been a long day and I’m thoroughly exhausted, so I don’t have the energy to put up much of a fight. Besides, his closeness soothes the ragged edges inside of me. Being near him is like my own shot of sedative. My breathing slows, my heart settles, and my muscles loosen.

  “A trade. I will agree to this. You may go first,” Calix says, his voice a rhythmic rumble in my ear where my head rests against his chest.

  I bite my lip as I consider what to tell him first. There’s so much of my past I’d be ashamed for him to know. So much that would destroy the pedestal he has me on. But if I’m going to consider staying here, with this new community, I have to be honest about who I am and where I came from.

  “My life wasn’t glamorous like Aria’s. I wasn’t anyone important or noteworthy. My family was poor and couldn’t afford much, but we were as happy as we could be when I was growing up. Ordinary, but happy.”

  “You are anything but ordinary, lilapetal, but go on.”

  His words only make me more determined for him to see the real me. “My illness cost my mother money, which meant she had to work harder to pay for doctors, medications, therapies. She wasn’t home often and I was an only child, so I spent a lot of time when I wasn’t in the hospital on my own.” And when she died, I was completely on my own, having to fend for myself at an early age.

  “You were lonely.”

  “Sometimes,” I admit in a whisper.

  “You will never be lonely again,” Calix states firmly. “You are a part of our faction now. We will always be here for you, to help you, guide you, and give you safety. I vow this to you.”

  Emotion swells in my throat and I blink back the sting of tears. “Thank you,” I say when I’m sure I won’t embarrass myself by crying all over him. “Now your turn. Tell me something about Calix. I’ve heard Aria talk about the women in cryo. If you have options, why me?” I should ask about his past, ask about the planet I’ve found myself on, but I want to know. He seems so sure of himself, of his interest in me. Maybe it’s selfish, but dammit, I deserve to be selfish.

  Calix adjusts our position so we’re both reclining on the couch, with my back against the back of it and our legs intertwined. He dwarfs me completely, but I like it. I feel safe and protected, but at the same time the ease I feel in his arms scares me.

  What if I grow used to having such security and it’s ripped away?

  “I had not planned to choose a mate from the females when we first learned of your existence.”

  I tip my head back so I can see his face. “You didn’t?”

  “No. There are ten of us and only five women. I want a mate, of course. All morts yearn for a family of their own. We all want mortyoung. For a long time, I never thought it would be a possibility for any of us. After losing so many due to sickness, I had given up hope. When we found you, I was happy enough to have the possibility of more for one of my brothers. I was certain I would give up the opportunity if I was selected to breed with one of the females. Certain, until I saw the cryotubes. Until I saw you. Then I knew you were mine and I would do anything to keep you.”

  “But what if I’m not who you think I am?”

  “I think you are kind and gentle. More beautiful than a Mortuus sunset. I think you are stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

  I sigh, because I want to be the woman he sees. “Is that why you’re helping me? Because you want a mate? Babies?”

  “I am helping you because it is who I am, what I do. I could not save my people from The Rades, but I will figure out how to fix your lungs. Then, I will show you that you are meant for me.”

  Back home we used to have a saying about seeing someone’s soul in their eyes, but I’d never really given it any thought until I locked eyes with Calix. His are vastly different from any man I’ve ever known, but when I look into them, I feel more connected to him than I ever have to anyone else.

  Despite my earlier hesitation, I find myself leaning closer, needing to become a part of him, one with him. I don’t have words for the need that pulses through me, so I don’t try to explain it.

  “Kiss?” he asks, so close that our lips brush together.

  I answer with a moan, which morphs into a screech as a mad banging begins at the door.

  Calix leaps to his feet, his teeth bared and claws extended.

  “What’s happening?” I ask, my chest tightening with an all too familiar anxiety.

  4

  Calix

  It was only a matter of time.

  When I stole her away, I knew they would come for us. What I did was against the rules. But I followed the rules. At first. I foolishly followed them for many solars, hoping against all odds that Emery would pull out of her poor health all on her own. Avrell had plenty of opportunity to heal her if it was within his abilities.

  He didn’t.

  She lay there, her breath rattling in her chest, pleading for me to save her.

  So that is what I am rekking doing.

  Bangbangbangbangbang!

  “Open up, you piece of rogshite!”

  Emery’s terror filled eyes widen. “W-What do they w-want?” Her dulled teeth chatter away and I cock my nog to the side. It is rather unnerving, but I recall reading in Breccan’s notes about this clattering noise in the sub-faction alien book that Sayer started in an effort to help us all understand them better. It is not a battle cry or a defense mechanism. It merely means they are cold.

  I storm over to a closet and pull out a blanket that is much thicker than the warming sheet. Once I have wrapped it around her, I give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before making my way over to the door. I am not one to keep my door closed, but when I brought Emery in, I closed it behind me. It is preprogrammed with a code they will never break. The only way those morts are getting in here is if I let them—which I will not—or if they force their way through.

  “Let me in,” Hadrian growls.

  The youngest mort in our faction thinks that now that he is Aria’s hand and protection when Breccan is unavailable, that he is the fiercest mort here.

  I will tell you what is fierce.

  When an empty-nog runt tries to interfere with the healing of my mate.

  I will show him rekking fierce.

  “No,” I bark out, watching him through the small window. “I am searching for a cure.”

  He looks past me. “When Aria finds out, she will be furious.”

  “It is Aria’s fault she is dying,” I snarl.

  His eyes widen. “The commander will not be pleased.”

  “I realized that risk before I took her.”

  He slams the door with his fist and storms off. I make my way over to a table near the bed and pull a freshly sanitized needle from the tray. Her eyes are drooping with drowsiness. It sends alarm racing down my spine, making my sub-bones crack along the way. I quickly attach a tube to the end of the syringe and then kneel in front of her.

  “It will only feel like a pinch,” I assure her. “I am going to draw some blood so I may test it.”

  She gives me a sleepy nod. Once I have taken the blood and bandaged her up, I drag over the oxygenating machine. This machine delivers air for longer periods than the simple breathing apparatus. Her hands swat at me, but I am firm with her. The rattling in her chest is ever-present and I want to make sure she does not suffocate. I put the mask around her nog and affix it so it stays in place.

  “Rest, lilapetal,” I urge, runn
ing my fingers through her silky tresses. “Let me work so I may try and help you.”

  Her eyes shine with thankfulness and then she flutters her lids closed. I get right to work creating different tests from her blood sample so I may look at them under the micro-viewer. I would like to test some of our older medicines that the microbots long took over in hopes to maybe find something we have overlooked. Perhaps the microbot technology is too advanced for the humans’ bodies. As I work, my mind drifts to when I was a young mortling, playing in my father’s office.

  “Sector 1779,” Father says to his apprentice, Lox. “We need to take him to Sector 1779.” Then, Father begins packing his bag with his supplies and work essentials.

  “Sector 1779?” Lox asks.

  I look up from the glass bottles I had been pretending to fill with magical medicines to heal my imaginary ailments. “What is Sector 1779, Father?”

  “Not a place for young mortlings,” he says. He turns to Lox and pulls off his glasses to rub at his eyes. Father works so hard and is always so tired. “Lox, ready the patient. We will take him to Sector 1779. They are the only facility with a surgical bot.”

  “Surgical bots are outdated technology, sir,” Lox argues.

  “Not everything gets better with newer technology,” Father tells him. “The microbots do what they are programmed to do. But if they don’t know what they are supposed to do, then they cannot do it.”

  “I don’t understand,” Lox mutters.

  “It means I need to do it myself. I will man the surgical bot and do exploratory surgery. It is the only way.”

  “Sir!” Lox cries out. “Such procedures have been forbidden for years!”

  My father clasps his hand on Lox’s shoulder. “Our patient will die unless we figure out another way. Pack our things and ready the patient. We will leave at nightfall.”

  “Where is Sector 1779?” I ask.

  Father walks over to me and ruffles my hair. “It is about three solars’ worth of a treacherous journey across The Graveyard to the other side of Bleex Mountain. Too far for a youngster like you to travel. Perhaps when you are older, I will take you there to show you the dusty old surgical rooms. It has long been abandoned, but certainly not forgotten.”