Determinedly, he reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up. He broke the kiss only long enough to pull the offending garment over her head. His mouth was on hers again before the shirt reached the floor. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and withdrew, before thrusting forward again. With his teeth, he scraped her lower lip, before sucking it into his mouth.
Wren moaned against his skilled mouth. Between the commanding thrust of his tongue and the pressure of his hands on her breasts, she was more than ready. She was desperate, in fact. She moved her hand from his waist, drawing it over the hard ridges of his abdomen and then sliding lower to cup the hot ridge of his cock through the fabric of his pants. She pressed hard against him, her hand tracing the impressive length, marveling at the thickness. She wanted to feel him inside her, filling her.
The low growl that emanated from him told her just how much he was enjoying her ministrations, but he turned the tables on her quickly. He dipped his head and closed his mouth over the turgid peak of her left breast, suckling deeply. Pleasure arced through her, and fire lanced from her breast to her clit. Her head fell back and she cried out. When his teeth scraped the furled bud, riding that fine line between pleasure and pain, her hips rocked forward, seeking. He turned his attention to her right breast, offering the same mind numbing pleasure. The hot pull of his mouth rocked through her, eliciting answering spasms deep in her womb. Her body was on fire. She was liquid for him, the walls of her sex weeping in eagerness. When she felt his hands on her thighs, beneath the fabric of her skirt, her knees buckled. In response, he simply hoisted her up, pinned her against the wall with his body, and continued his exploration.
His hands caressed her thighs, the backs of his knuckles grazing the soft, damp curls that shielded her entrance. She whimpered. “Please,” she cried, unable to articulate the intensity of her need. He took her mouth again, roughly this time. He claimed it, his teeth scraping the soft pout of her lower lip, suckling it into his mouth, then soothing with his tongue. While his mouth was hard, almost brutal in that searing kiss, his hand was gentle as he stroked the cleft of her sex with the callused pad of his thumb. He didn’t enter her, but teased her with the soft pressure, the feather light touch that made her want to scream, to demand that he fuck her.
“What should I do, Wren Marlowe?” he said, his voice nothing more than a low, growl against her ear. “If I take you, there will be no going back.”
She didn’t care. “Take me,” she said. “I need you inside me.”
He pressed with his thumb, parting the slick folds of her pussy, touching the hooded bud of her clitoris. With back and forth, rhythmic strokes, he drove the tension in her body to new heights. He knew how she liked to be touched. The intensity of her desire had wiped out her natural defenses. Her mind was broadcasting to him, all but shouting what she needed. He knew how much pressure to apply, how sharply to bite, how hard to thrust, without her having to utter a word.
Triumphantly, he slid one long finger and then a second into the hot, clenching sheath of her cunt. His thumb continued the slow, seductive rhythm, driving her toward her orgasm. With his fingers buried inside her, sliding in and out of her, she bucked wildly, her hips thrusting against him. Deliberately, he curled his fingers forward inside her, pressing against her g-spot. He moved his thumb more firmly against the hard bud of her clit. She screamed, her back arching, her thighs trembling around him as her orgasm claimed her. He could feel the rippling muscles of her sheath as the waves of pleasure claimed her. A fine sheen of sweat covered her body and her breasts heaved with her labored breathing. He laved the hardened pebbles of her nipples as she clenched and shuddered, riding his hand.
Gently, he withdrew, and deftly unfastened his pants. He positioned himself more firmly between her parted, trembling thighs. He curved his hands beneath the firm globes her bottom, clutching those lush rounded cheeks, he lifted her slightly and pressed the head of his cock against her damp, sex. “Take me inside you,” he said. He wanted it o be her choice.
Wren was still breathless, unable to respond. Her body still quivered and trembled from the orgasm that he had given her, more powerful than anything she had ever experienced. She looked at him then, at his massive cock throbbing between them. He was even larger than she’d thought. She’d never taken a cock so big and it both thrilled and frightened her.
Rather than try to answer, she closed her hand firmly about him. She slid the pad of her thumb over the tip of his cock, reveling in the smooth heat and the velvety soft skin over steel. A tiny, pearl like drop of pre cum glistened on the broad head. She wanted to taste him, but the desire to feel him moving inside her was greater. She arched her hips, his thick shaft spearing inside her. She didn’t stop there, however. She pressed further, relishing the sensation of him stretching her, of the slight burn of her flesh as it accommodated the massive invasion. He was so big, so long and thick, and it had been so long since she’d had a man inside her, since she’d been pleasured by anything other than her own hands. She placed her hands on his lean hips, her thumbs dipping into the deep grooves of defined muscles, and urged him forward.
It was all the urging he needed. He thrust forward then, sliding deeper into her, penetrating her fully, pressing her more firmly against the wall. He had never felt anything as wondrous as the hot clutch of her sex around his engorged cock. She wrapped her legs more fully around him, locking her ankles at the small of his back. He flexed, withdrawing slightly, feeling the drag of her inner muscles on sensitive flesh. He plunged forward again, driving deeper into her.
Wren was screaming, the pleasure so intense, bordering on pain as he drove into her again and again. He filled her completely, reaching places so deep inside her that no one had ever touched before. Each stroke, each hard thrust had her gasping. Her head fell back, she sobbed with pleasure, as she clutched at his shoulders. “Faster,” she urged, “Harder.”
He withdrew again, and then thrust forcefully, impaling her. Again and again, he thrust into her. The soft, damp flesh of her sex yielded to him, accepting the brutal strength that was so much a part of him. Her nails scored him, digging into his flesh with each thrust. He could feel the tingling at the base of his spine, the tightening of his balls. His cock lengthened and thickened inside her. He could not last much longer. He shortened his strokes, circling his hips against her, grinding against the small nub her clitoris with each thrust. Her breathless cries echoed through the cabin, her hips thrusting against him. He felt her clench, felt the quivering of her belly and the quake in her thighs. Then she was spasming around him. He groaned, relishing the grip and release of her wet cunt around him as she came. His own release took him then. He pressed his mouth against her neck, his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin between her neck and shoulder as his hot seed jetted into her welcoming body. He pumped his hips into her, relishing the sound of their labored breathing, of the wet slap of their bodies joining. He was shaking, trembling as wave after wave of hot semen poured from his body into hers.
It was everything he had anticipated and more. Weak with satiation, his forehead dropped to her shoulder. She stroked his hair. Small aftershocks of pleasure rocked her body, and with each one, he shivered in response, his spent cock still partially inside her.
As the sound of their ragged breath faded, he became aware of other sounds, primarily the rhythmic beep of an alarm. He looked towards the command center of the ship, to the blinking lights on the display. She tensed against him, obviously sensing that something was wrong.
“What is it?” Wren asked.
“We are being pursued. I need you to change,” he said. He disentangled himself from her, immediately missing the warmth of her body against him. He retrieved a flight suit from the locker and pressed it into her hands. The suits were made of a durable fabric that could stretch to accommodate any shape or size. The fabric was also impenetrable, heat and cold resistant.
Without shyness, Wren stripped the remainder of her clothing and began the arduo
us process of getting into the suit. Her knees still trembled, and she could feel the dampness of their mingled essences between her thighs. The sensation was pleasantly erotic. The flight suit was not. It was rather like putting pantyhose over one’s entire body. When she finally had it on, he gave her a pair of boots that were similar to the ones he wore. There was a jacket, as well, of the same leather like material. He headed for the cockpit area and she followed on his heels. She took the seat beside him, and he fastened the small harness for her, strapping her into the seat.
When he was strapped into the seat beside her as well, he began to speak commands. “Nivarre, 17548,” he said. Immediately the lights and screens before changed.
A modulated, electronic voice filled the cabin, “Acknowledged 17548. Proceed with commands.”
“Initiate stealth settings and evasive maneuvers,” he instructed.
Immediately the lights in the cabin dimmed, and it appeared that a dark film descended over the windows.
“Stealth mode achieved. Beacons disengaged. Transponders down,” the electronic voice said. Wren understood none of it. “Course to coordinate Sector H, Fourth Quadrant blocked by a flotilla unidentified spacecraft. Alternate route is recommended, 17548.”
Kyr didn’t curse, but his mouth firmed. “Change course. New coordinates are 153-619 Sector F9, Outer Rim.”
“Coordinates calculating… confirmed, 17548.”
The ship banked hard to the right, and rocketed forward at a speed that slammed her back into the seat. Wren understood why they had needed the harnesses now. She glanced over, and Kyr was focused on the controls in front of him, piloting the ship with the use of a small keypad on the arm of the chair he occupied. “Where are we going to now? I don’t know what all of those numbers and letters mean.”
Kyr met her concerned gaze, “We are going to a neutral zone. We will not have the protection of Core guards there, but attacks on anyone are forbidden. It will give us the time we need to send confirmation to my commanding officers and request aid.”
Wren nodded, and then stared ahead, watching the blackness of space as they sped past. Her mind was just as adrift, unable to process everything that had occurred. She retreated into silence.
Chapter Three
It was hours later, and Wren had not spoken. Kyr rose from his seat. They had slowed to a more reasonable speed to conserve energy as there was no indication they were being pursued. He walked through the main cabin where Wren had retreated earlier. She was lying on the narrow berth again. She had her back to the room and to him, staring at the wall. He did not know what to say to her, so he continued into the galley, and began the sequence to initiate meals. It was a simple protein pack, with little taste. He knew that she would balk at eating it, but she needed to. It had been more than ten hours since he had taken her from the café where she worked, and given the turmoil of the day, he knew that she needed the sustenance.
“You must eat, Wren,” he said softly.
She sat up, and glared at him over her shoulder. “I ‘must’ not do anything. If I eat, it will be because I want to and not because you have told me to.”
He sighed. “My language is very different than yours, Wren. When I say you must eat, I do not command you to do so. You need to eat because the events of the day have been physically and emotionally difficult. To deny yourself nutrients in this situation could cause you harm.”
Wren knew she was being a petulant child. She was as much annoyed with herself as with him. Though it goaded her to do so, she apologized. “I am sorry for being difficult.”
He brought the small tray to her. “It does not taste very good. It is best to eat quickly and drink the electrolyte compound last, as it is more palatable.”
It was a thick paste. Experimentally, Wren touched her finger to it, then licked it. It really had no flavor, at all. She picked up the spoon that had been placed on the tray and did as he suggested, eating it quickly. Taste was not the problem, but the texture was repulsive. She managed to down half of it, before her stomach began to rebel. She opened the small bottle of what he called electrolyte compound and drank it quickly. It tasted vaguely sweet, like sugar water. In all, it was the least satisfying meal she’d ever had. In spite of that, she did feel better afterwards. She also had more questions.
Wren had not just spent the last few hours sulking. She had been thinking, planning and trying to figure out how her life had turned into a Joss Whedon script overnight. The simple answer to that was that it had not been overnight. Whatever was different about her, had been different since she had been born. Why else would she have dreamed of the Aldacyians before, why would she have seen them skulking about periodically throughout her life? It wasn’t precognition that had prompted her to fear them, but memory.
“How long have you been assigned to protect me?”
“For as long as you have been alive,” he answered honestly.
Wren thought about that, about her mother’s insistence that her biological parents had been damaged in some way and that was why Wren herself was ‘different’. “Why would the Core want to protect me? What were they protecting me from? Why did the Aldacyians want me? Every time you answer a question it only raises more questions.”
Kyr met her gaze with an assessing one of his own. “I will answer any question you have, if you are ready for those answers. I fear that you are not.”
“I’m like you, aren’t I? An alien.”
“The term alien is incorrect. Right now, neither of us is on her home planet. We are both aliens. I am a hybrid, as are you, but not just like me. I was bred to be a warrior, engineered to understand combat, strategy and to withstand pain and injury.”
Wren fought the urge to hurl the tray at him. “What was I bred for, then?”
“You were bred for me, genetically designed to my perfect mate,” he replied softly.
Wren rose and paced the cabin. Again, the urge to deny his words was welling within her. It explained so much. It explained her response to him. She was hardwired to want him. At the same time, it repulsed her. She had been raised as a human being, to believe that she had free will, to choose her lovers on her own criteria. To hear that her sole purpose, her very conception, had been to be a vessel for a man made her ill.
“Never again,” she said. “You will never touch me again!”
The gentleness that she had seen in him, that he had been so careful to hold onto with her, vanished. He stalked towards her, his large body imposing, powerful. He was towering over her, looming above her as she clung to the wall behind her. “I will have you again,” he said. “Make no mistake, Wren Marlowe. I have claimed you and you are mine now.”
“I am not an object to be claimed! I am a human being!” she cried.
He brought the tips of his fingers to her face, touching the single tear that had fallen from her eyes. His anger had vanished, but there was a resolve in him that was unmistakable. “No, Wren. You are not a human being. You are mine, created for me, made to fit me in every way. I will never harm you, I will never force you, and I would give my life to protect you… But do not think to leave me,”
“Where do I sleep, here?” she asked, sweeping her hand towards the berths. She was effectively ending the conversation. She couldn’t face it, not the knowledge that she was something other than human, or that her free will had been nothing but an illusion. She also couldn’t face the traitorous leap of her pulse at his promise, or the dangerous thrill she’d felt in knowing that, at last, someone wanted her just as she was.
Kyr moved away from her, tension still coiled through his body. It was evident in the hard line of his shoulders and his tightly clenched jaw. He accessed a keypad on the wall, and entered a series of commands. The back wall of the small cabin opened, revealing a large bunk, obviously designed for a man of his impressive stature. It was covered in pristine white bedding. “You may use the sleeping chamber,” he said. “I will sleep out here.”
Did she want that? No. Her con
fusion about her current situation aside, she couldn’t forget the way he had made her feel, and that whatever else had happened, in his arms, for the first time, she hadn’t felt alone. It galled her to do so and it stung her already abused pride, but she said, “No... Please, I don’t want to sleep alone.”
Kyr moved quickly, lifting her into his arms. He carried her to the bed and began to remove her clothes. His touch was gentle but deliberate. Every area that was revealed was caressed, fondled, massaged and adored. When the bodysuit had been peeled from her, and she lay naked before him, he stepped back. Reclining on the bed, her pale skin looked like silk. Her red curls fanned out beside her. He could fully appreciate now the beauty of her form. The firm globes of her breasts were tipped with cherry pink nipples, already peaked and begging for his touch. Her waist nipped in before flaring into full hips that tapered again into long legs. She was not a thin woman by the standards he had seen on Earth, but to him she was the personification of femininity. He savored every lush curve, every mound, all the valleys and crests that marked her body as the perfect counterpart to his own.
Hybrid's Love Page 2
