by Presley Hall
I lean up to whisper in Tycran’s ear, grabbing his arm to slow his approach. “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” I hiss, keeping my voice low. “I’ll create a diversion. I know just the thing. You wait until they’re distracted, and then use the EMP to break the handcuffs. All right?”
“What are you going to do?” He looks at me, clearly trying to decide whether to stop me or not.
“Just trust me.”
I know he’s probably not going to be thrilled with me putting myself on display like this, especially when he’s made such a point of telling me not to leave his side for my own safety. But I’m on the Astral Grace’s register as his possession, and it’s not likely anyone would be able to get off the ship with me in tow. And besides, Tycran will get us out of here as soon as the seeds are in hand. I just need to distract the guards for a few minutes.
He frowns, his lips pressed tightly together. His gaze flicks to the guards again, and I know he’s coming to the same conclusion I just did. We won’t be able to finish the mission without something to divert them.
“All right,” he says tightly. “But make it quick.”
I give his arm a light squeeze, then turn away, striding toward the stage. I keep my head up, walking with enough confidence that hopefully no one will stop me. With any luck, they’ll assume I’m meant to be part of the entertainment before anyone has a chance to figure out otherwise.
As soon as I approach the stage, I can feel heads turning to look at me. It’s a heady sensation, one I remember from years of dancing. There’s sultry music playing already from the band, and it immediately takes me back to Vegas, to the feeling of every eye in the room on me as I step up onto the stage, my body already swaying to the music.
It’s as if I never left, as if I haven’t spent months traveling the universe, far away from the stages where I once spent almost every night. The smooth coldness of the pole under my hands, the click of my heels on the stage, the flow of the lights over my body as I begin to move—it’s all so familiar that I could almost forget where I am, on an alien cruise ship docked at a dangerous planet, carrying out a heist with a sexy-as-sin Kalixian warrior.
Somehow, that just makes it so much better though. I move like I’m in a dream, all of it feeling surreal in the most wonderful way. This is the adventure I wanted, the excitement I craved.
I reach for the zipper of my dress, turning to face the crowd as I move my hips to the music, and I see that both of the guards are watching me. One of them looks slightly dazed, and he licks his lips as the zipper moves down an inch. The other, while less entranced, is staring too, his attention fixed on me as I slowly slide the zipper down to my hips. I pin the sparkly material across my breasts with one arm as I let go of the zipper, letting a sliver of skin show where the black fabric parts.
Even from across the room, I can see him swallow hard.
Good.
I let the fabric fall.
14
Tycran
As Lucy disappears into the crowd, I ease closer to the target. I don’t see what she’s doing at first, all of my focus on the flat-faced little alien and the briefcase attached to him.
I have to choose exactly the right moment—there’s only one charge on the EMP. If I’m too far away, it won’t work. If it does work, but I’m not able to immediately snatch the briefcase and disappear into the crowd, I’ll be caught. That I can’t even consider. It would ruin everything.
But then I see the entire crowd’s attention shifting, completely entranced by whatever is happening on the other side of the room. Even the two guards appear distracted by it, and I can’t help but glance over to see what Lucy has contrived for a distraction.
To my shock, I see her getting up on the stage, her body slowly beginning to move in time with the seductive music that the band is playing. Her chin is up, her eyes alight with confidence, and I’m taken in by how beautiful she looks. She’s always been gorgeous, but there’s something about her in this moment that is truly breathtaking.
The way she moves looks so familiar to me, and it confuses me for a moment until I realize why that is. It’s not that she’s dancing on a stage—it’s that she reminds me of myself, and of my fellow warriors when they fight. With weapons in our hands, we move as if we were meant for it, as confidently and comfortably as if we’ve been doing it our entire lives. There’s a strength and power to Lucy as she dances that’s completely entrancing… even for me.
I find my footsteps slowing, my gaze drawn to her, forgetting why I’m here and what I’m supposed to be doing, just like everyone else in the crowd.
It’s hypnotizing, the sway of her body, the slide of her fingers through her hair, the cascade of those blonde locks around her face and shoulders. Her curves draw the eye, and each movement she makes is designed to show them off, to rouse desire, to make everyone in the crowd forget what they’re doing and only see her.
I shake myself sharply, trying to drag my attention away from her and back to what I’m supposed to be doing. Her plan is clearly working, even as it irks me that she’s gone off without me, that she’s so far away from my protection. But she’s smart, she’s shown that much clearly. And she’s as tough as any warrior, brave enough to put herself up there in front of the leering eyes of a hungry, rich, entitled crowd.
It’s my job to end this as fast as possible, so that I can get her back to the relative safety of our small ship.
But as I get close to the seller, almost close enough to slip behind him, deploy the EMP, and snatch the briefcase, I hear a rousing cheer from the crowd. The guards, previously watching Lucy with dazed expressions, react as well. One of them whistles, and the other grins lasciviously, licking his lips as he watches whatever’s happening on stage.
I look. I can’t help myself.
The crowd is still cheering and urging her on, and when I glance back up at the stage, I see Lucy’s dress pooled on the stage floor, her long, lithe body twisting seductively in time to the music, in only her underthings and those impossibly high heels.
My heart thunders in my chest.
It’s the only part of me that seems able to move as I stare at her, momentarily as transfixed as everyone else.
It’s been years since I’ve seen so much of any woman, and never so much of this woman. She’s more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen, every inch of her perfectly curved to fit a man’s hands, her wild blonde hair cascading down her back and over her shoulders, her hands sliding over her breasts and hips as she leans forward, shaking them for the pleasure of the crowd.
Desire rises up in me, a tidal wave of it that I can’t stop or control, more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt.
I’ve felt lust, felt want, ached for the touch of another being even as I’ve resolutely denied it to myself. I’ve woken from dreams of hands and lips on my body, sweaty and aching. I’ve wanted pleasure and release.
But never like this.
The pull toward her is magnetic, the power of it heating my blood until it feels as if my body is on fire, my heart pounding like it will burst out of my chest. My cock is rigid in the tight confines of the ridiculous pants I’m wearing, and I wish for nothing more than the freedom of my loincloth, even though there’s no possible way it could contain my raging erection. I can’t think past the need consuming me. It’s as if years of self-control and carefully honed restraint have been burned away in an instant, erased by a wildfire of lust that’s beyond anything I could have imagined.
And alongside that, rising up in me to tangle with my desire until I feel as if I’m nothing but emotion—nothing but need and aching, desperate want—is a sense of possessiveness so strong that it makes me feel dizzy.
I hate every male in the room for looking at Lucy.
I want to tear through them, to go to her, to prevent anyone from leering at her like this ever again.
With my pulse racing, I surge forward through the crowd. Rok, the mission, the seller, the seeds? All are forgotten as I stalk toward
the stage, every muscle in my body bunched tight. I can feel my heart slamming against my ribs, feel the tension in every line of my body.
Lucy arches her back, not seeing me as she twirls around the pole, teasing the crowd as she dances. She lifts one hand to the closure of the garment covering her breasts, and as she undoes the clasp, something inside me snaps.
That last, final shred of restraint.
As the garment falls to the stage floor, I—along with everyone else in the room—get a full view of her perfect, creamy breasts and their soft, dusky rose nipples. I charge up onto the stage, everything forgotten except for the all-consuming need burning through my veins.
I had no idea my cock could be this hard.
With one graceful motion, I sweep her clothing up off the stage with one hand, my other arm going around her waist and throwing her over my shoulder as if she weighs nothing at all. She utters one brief, surprised squeak as I stalk toward the exit, my fist clenched around her dress as I carry her away from the lights and the now-curious, questioning crowd.
She squirms a little in my grasp, although she doesn’t seem to be trying too hard to get away.
“What the hell are you doing? Did you get the seeds? What on Earth—?”
She doesn’t sound scared or angry, just shocked. Her voice is high and breathless as she bounces on my shoulder with every one of my heavy steps.
I ignore her. My mouth is dry, my pulse beating so hard that it almost hurts, and I can’t think of anything to say. The singular thought in my head is to get her away from that crowd and back to the safety of… somewhere.
Our room. That will do.
I stalk down the hallway, ignoring every stare and startled comment from everyone we pass, although no one moves to stop us or question me. I carry her straight to our room, sliding the ticket into the door to unlock it and then barging inside, slamming the door behind me.
The moment it’s shut, the click of the lock telling me that we’re safe and alone, I set her down with her back to the door.
And then, before I can stop myself, before I can find my focus and calm the raging desire that seems to have overtaken me with a blinding, animalistic need, I do the thing I’ve wanted to do from the moment I first laid eyes on this woman—even if I could never admit it to myself.
I reach down, tangling my fingers in her thick, soft hair, and kiss her.
15
Lucy
Of all the ways I expected tonight to go, this was not one of them.
But the instant Tycran kisses me, his huge body pressing me back against the door as he delves his hands into my hair and presses his mouth fiercely to mine, I respond.
I’m still confused—I have no idea what happened to our plan, or the seeds, or if he got them—but I can’t resist the urgency of his lips on mine. And if I’m being entirely honest, I really don’t want to.
Fuck the mission, my brain whispers as Tycran’s hot mouth claims mine, and in this moment, I’m entirely inclined to agree. I’ve wanted this for months, and now that it’s happening, I’m not about to encourage him to come to his senses.
Especially not when it’s better than I ever imagined.
He fills all of my senses, his powerful body pressing against mine, his hands on either side of my head, his full mouth possessing mine entirely. I can smell the salt of the sweat that’s sprung up on his skin, taste the smoky sharpness of the drink he had in the bar, feel the smoothness of his shirt against my bare nipples, which are now hard as diamonds pressed against his chest.
I want more. I want him naked. I want him to fuck me up against this door, to see every inch of his glorious body and have it inside of me.
My mind is screaming yes, yes, yes, as he kisses me, his tongue sliding over my lower lip and then plunging into my mouth, tangling with mine as he devours me with the kind of hunger I hoped he might have.
He kisses me as if he’s going to eat me from the mouth down, as if I’m food and water and air, as if he’s been dying all this time and I’m going to bring him back to life. I feel him against me, hard and rigid against the soft skin of my thigh, and I realize that I’m wearing nothing but my panties and heels, almost completely bare while he’s still fully dressed. There’s something so sexy about that thought that I’m immediately flooded with a fresh wave of desire, arousal washing over me until I can feel how wet I am with it, my pussy swollen and aching for him.
Tycran breathes in, his nostrils flaring, and I know he can smell it… smell me. It’s dirty in the hottest possible way, the idea that he can smell how turned on I am, and I feel his cock throb against me in response.
I arch my hips forward, rubbing against him, moaning as I reach up to feel the knot of his hair at the back of his head, pulling the leather tie free so that I can tangle my fingers in his thick fall of dark hair. He groans as I trail the tips of my fingers over the base of his horns, his body arching toward mine desperately, and I shudder with need.
“Lucy…”
He whispers my name against my mouth, his eyes closing as he breathes me in again, his lips still brushing against mine. And then, before I can say anything, before I can make a move to start to undress him or do anything else, he drops to his knees in front of me.
I freeze, startled and not quite sure what’s he’s doing. But a second later, all of my confusion is swept away as he reaches up and grasps the side of my panties with one firm hand, then yanks.
They tear as if they’re made of tissue paper. I gasp with arousal, my lips parting as I stare down at him, at this fully dressed, gorgeous alien kneeling in front of me. I’m completely nude now except for my heels, and my entire body feels like it’s burning up, as if my blood has been replaced by liquid fire.
He licks his lips, his eyes bright with desire, and I realize exactly what he’s going to do just as he pushes my thighs apart with his hands, leaning forward. The touch of his tongue sends a ripple of desire through me that makes my knees weak.
Holy fuck.
Jade and Emma were right—he might be inexperienced, but I’d never have known it unless they told me. His mouth presses between my legs, his tongue hot and eager against my swollen, wet flesh, and I part my thighs wider for him, arching my back so that my hips are pushed forward, begging him for more.
He grasps one of my legs, pulls it over his shoulder, and then steadies me with a hand on my hip even as his other hand slides up my inner thigh, gently teasing the edges of my lips as his tongue sweeps over them in long, slow strokes. Each swipe of his tongue ends with the tip circling my clit, and I gasp and moan, my hips moving helplessly against his face.
It’s been so long. And it’s been absolutely never since a man went down on me like this.
I don’t know where Tycran learned this, but he’s eating me out with a skill I didn’t know any male in the universe possessed. He seems to know exactly where to touch me. The slide of his tongue makes me shudder with need, and when his lips suck on my clit as his tongue makes slow circles around it, I moan and gasp.
His fingers tease me endlessly, until I’m on the verge of flat-out begging for more. But before I can open my mouth, I feel him slide the thick digits into me, one and then two, giving me that last bit of friction I need.
“Oh god. Oh—fuck! I’m going to come.” The words are choppy and breathless as I grind against his mouth.
His steady hand on my hip is practically the only thing keeping me upright. Pleasure is building inside me, stronger than anything I’ve ever felt, and my final thought before I tumble over the edge is, if his mouth and hand feel this good, what would sex with him feel like?
He thrusts his fingers up into me, curling them as his tongue lashes over my clit, his lips feasting on me hungrily. The pleasure breaks over me in waves, and my fingers claw at the door as I moan, my back arching as I come hard on his face.
Tycran doesn’t stop. He doesn’t falter. He just keeps going as my body is flooded with the kind of orgasm I didn’t think was possible in real li
fe—the kind that makes every inch of me quake and shudder until I feel liquified, boneless with pleasure.
As the last tremors of it roll through me, he drags his tongue over me in one more long, slow lick. Lapping up my arousal, he looks up at me with a burning heat in his dark aquamarine eyes that makes me shudder with need all over again.
“Oh god,” I whisper. My legs tremble as he slowly draws his fingers out of me and then slides them into his mouth, his eyes still fixed on mine. “Please, Tycran. Oh god, please fuck me.”
I can’t remember ever wanting a man as much as I want him right now. My desire to have him inside of me feels like a physical need, an ache so deep and profound that I can’t bear to go another second without him filling me, possessing me entirely.
He growls, an animalistic sound deep in his throat as he stands, his hand tangling in my thick hair again as he pulls my mouth to his. I can taste the sharp sweetness of my arousal on his lips, and it sends a fresh wave of lust through me. The desperation in his kiss, the taste of myself on him, his still-clothed body pressed against my naked one… it’s all so incredibly sexy that I feel as if every nerve in my body is alight with desire.
He picks me up again, sweeping me into his arms as if I weigh nothing, and carries me over to the bed in a few long, sure strides.
I’ve hardly had a chance to look at the room—I couldn’t describe it if my life depended on it. My entire world has shrunk down to Tycran and the desperate desire that burns between us. But the duvet under me is soft and velvety, with lines of embroidery that scratch at my bare skin, and the second he deposits me onto the bed, I rise up onto my knees, kicking off my heels as I reach for his shirt.
His eyes still fixed hungrily on mine, he helps me pull it off him, tossing the garment away and revealing his muscled, bare chest to me.
I’ve seen him bare-chested more times than I can count, but this feels new somehow. Different. Now I can touch him. I can reach out and run my hands over his shoulders, over the broad planes of his chest, down the rippling muscles of his abdomen—and I do. I let my fingers graze over all of that smooth bronzed skin, and Tycran lets his head drop backward, a groan spilling from his lips as he leans into my caress.
