Alien Mine

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Alien Mine Page 14

by Marie Dry


  Lathering his hands, he used them instead of the washcloth and whenever she tried to move away or made sounds of passion she couldn't suppress, he would give her a little shake.

  "Why do you keep shaking me? At this rate, I'm going to end up with permanent damage in my neck."

  He stopped washing her, one hand heavy on her breast and the other on her shoulder. His thumb massaged her shoulder almost absently. She shook, but not with nerves. Everything he did, every touched affected her on a level so deep it felt as if he was trying to own her very essence. She flinched with pleasure when he pumped her breast with his hand, his palm grazing over her nipple.

  "To soothe my breeder."

  "It's not soothing. It hurts. Your women might like being shaken but Earth women get hurt when you do it."

  She'd never get used to this, having these strange conversations about different species. Her body urged her to use her time in the shower with a hot naked guy more constructively. But instead, she was complaining about him shaking her.

  "How do Earth men sooth their breeders?"

  That dangerous thumb lazily moved over her collarbone. Her collarbone was an erogenous zone, too? Apparently, when he did the touching, her whole body was one.

  "Um...with a hug, I guess, and don't call me that." It made a lot more sense than shaking a person's brains out to comfort them.

  "Hug?"

  "Yes. When humans want to comfort each other, they hug...or kiss."

  How could he still talk? She was barely able to focus on anything but his hands.

  "Show me hug," he insisted.

  "Huh?" Hugging him while naked, wet, and soapy was dangerous. "Why don't we get out of the shower and get dressed first?" She wanted to hug him, but she was desperate to preserve what little dignity she had left.

  "Show me."

  Stubborn...

  She quickly put her arms around him and gave him a quick squeeze before moving back. In that moment, with his body pressed against every aroused inch of hers, she reached the point of no return. He had her plastered against him before she could blink.

  "Like this," he said, his voice husky.

  She dipped her head, shy of him when he was like this. Who would've believed this fierce alien could be this gentle? Even when he fed her every day, she always had the feeling he was grimly determined to do it for more practical reasons. This was different, more intimate. Almost as if he wooed her.

  She thought he would grab her and kiss the life out of her then take her right there in the shower. But instead he stepped back, soaped up his hands again, and started over, not missing an inch on her body.

  He spent an excessive amount of time stroking her breasts with his fingers. She stood absolutely still, tempted to touch the copper beauty so invitingly close to her hands, but determined not to give in.

  Her willpower lost. Her body, as if it had a will of its own, rubbed against his while she put her hands on his biceps. She shivered, despite the hot water cascading over her. He started to give her a little shake again and, when she moaned in protest, drew her into a hug instead.

  He really was uncomfortably large. She was used to towering over most men, or being the same height, and it was strange to feel small and delicate next to him. She wanted to explore his body, as well, but was too shy. Andre had always accused her of destroying the mood when she would start taking over. Determinedly, she pushed away thoughts of her ex-fiancé. Maybe Zacar would enjoy her touching him.

  "Zacar? Can I wash you?" She thought he wouldn't answer her, as he seemed to ignore her question for the longest time. Then, at last, he grated, "Yes."

  His hand smoothed down the curve of her stomach and, very carefully, very softly cupped her. She dazedly wondered if the women of his species had hair between their legs and what he thought of the fact that she did.

  For a long moment, he simply stood, staring down into her dazed eyes. Then his hand moved. With lazy, swirling movements, he combed through the crisp hairs then parted her flesh. His finger traced every hidden curve carefully. Steam swirled around them and she vaguely wondered how the water could stay hot for so long. It had to run out sometime. He slowly stroked and fondled her until her muscles clenched, as if preparing for a long fall. The knowledge of what he was doing to her amazed her and, somehow, his red eyes didn't seem ugly to her anymore.

  Red? Those weren't only battle eyes, but eyes of passion, as well.

  He was relentless, stroking and petting her until she came with a soft moan. The shower, the steam, everything disappeared until only Zacar, and pleasure so intense it was almost pain, remained.

  When she came to her senses, she was still in the shower, leaning limply against Zacar. He rubbed her back with a gentle hand, and she half expected him to press her to her knees to return the favor. When he didn't, she took the bar of soap and lathered her hands.

  "Do you mind smelling like roses?" she asked. Did he even know what roses were?

  His gaze was glued to her hands, and it was only when her soaped hands hovered over his chest that he answered, by pressing her palms to his skin. His body firmed and tightened until she could have been touching a boulder from the mountain if his flesh wasn't warm and rippled under her hands. The moment her hands moved lower he picked her up and lifted her out of the shower, drying her with the same intensity he fed her with. As if nothing more important existed in the universe. Once again, his movements were almost ritualistic. Starting at her feet, he dried each toe individually.

  She giggled and jerked her foot back. "That tickles."

  He looked up at her. "Tickles?"

  "You know, when you touch someone's toes and they can't help but laugh." She wasn't about to tell him about her other ticklish places. "Aren't Zyrgins ticklish?"

  Staring intently down at her feet, he dried them again, this time watching for her reaction.

  "Stop please," she giggled.

  He continued to torment her toes for a while before moving on to dry the rest of her with the same devotion.

  "So are you ticklish?" she asked through dying giggles.

  "No."

  He took a silver robe and dressed her with care. Before he picked her up, he pulled on loose white pants. She blinked at the small room, confused as to where he'd gotten them from. But at least, he wasn't about to have either of them parade naked in front of the others. Thankfully. Still, when he left the shower room, with her in his arms, she hid her face in his neck. Did the other aliens realize what they'd done in the shower?

  "You should really build us an en-suite bathroom," she joked nervously.

  It was the longest minute of her life, as he maneuvered her through the cave toward her tent. With her face buried in Zacar's neck, she couldn't see, but she was just sure the others all stopped what they were doing and stared at them.

  "Open," he said.

  The new silver wall that surrounded her tent slid open.

  "Can I open this door with voice commands."

  "No, you use the control panel."

  "Why?"

  "Breeders do not use voice commands."

  She opened her mouth to tell him what she thought of that when he entered the tent and laid her down on the bed. He leaned over her, the planes and muscles in front of her interesting her more than any discussion on doors.

  "You will be satisfied with me," he said. The words, like his actions in the shower, seemed part of a ritual.

  "Uhm, okay."

  He produced a towel and gently pressed the moisture out of her hair. Then he took up her comb and gently combed out all the tangles. She was almost asleep from the soothing feel of him working with her hair when he stopped and went to a silver trunk she hadn't noticed before. They really believed in making themselves at home. He took out a slim silver tube and her imagination went wild. Pictures of sex toys she'd seen on the TC flashed before her.

  What on earth is that and what does he plan to do with it?

  He turned the front part and warm air blew over her sc
alp. Smoothing a hand over her scalp, he played with her hair as it fluttered in the warm air. He took strands of it and inhaled their scent. His eyelids drooped, as if the smell was pure ecstasy.

  He put down the silver tube and arranged her on the bed on her back with firm precise movements. He lifted her arms over her head, her palms up and open, then his hands smoothed down her body, leaving shivers in their wake. When he reached her thighs, he spread her legs, pushing with his thumbs on the inside of her knees. She shivered with excitement and arousal but also with a bit of fear. Spread out like this, she felt vulnerable, as if not only her body, but her soul was on display.

  Sitting back, he looked her over then grunted in satisfaction. He traced a leathery finger over her brow, cheeks, and chin. Followed the lines of her face with his finger, spending what felt like hours rubbing the bridge of her nose, touching both sides almost curiously. When he placed a finger over her nostril, she jerked away and frowned at him. It didn't deter him. He did exactly the same with the other nostril.

  She shifted uncomfortably. What other strange lovemaking rituals were in store for her? What if something totally different from what she expected was about to happen?

  She tried to think of alien movies she'd seen where human women had sex with aliens, but none came to mind. All she could think about and feel was Zacar.

  Lifting a trembling hand, she touched his shoulder, stroking the intriguing muscles she found under his leathery skin. When he roared and jumped back, she nearly went through the roof of the tent in fright, she jumped so high.

  "Natlia no touch," he said, his voice rough.

  "Why not?" she asked, refusing to feel disappointed.

  He'd allowed her to wash him. Why couldn't she touch him now? After the way he touched her in the shower and his careful drying of her, she hadn't expected him to react with such violence to a simple touch.

  "Not..." He searched for a word. "...seemly," he said at last.

  Natalie blinked at him. Was that why he could barely articulate? What the roaring was about? He thought her touching him wasn't proper?

  "What do the women on your planet do? Lie back and think of Zyrgin?" she asked, making sure the sarcasm in her voice was thick enough for him to catch her meaning. It was like mealtimes all over again, with her forced to do things his way.

  "We will do this the Zyrgin way. It is not seemly for my breeder to interrupt the first knowing," he said.

  Curiosity got the better of her. What harm could it do to do it his way the first time?

  She wanted to rant and rave at him but more than that, she wanted him to touch her. If it meant doing things the Zyrgin way, she knew she wouldn't object, couldn't object. She wanted him too much.

  "Um, okay, but you can't hurt me." She thought for a moment. "Your Zyrgin way doesn't involve whips and chains, does it?"

  "Whips and chains?" He cocked his head. "I would never hurt you, Natlia. You are my breeder. Chosen above all others."

  What others? Aren't I the first female he's encountered since he came here? While the thought he desired her so much filled her with joy, she still couldn't quite believe it.

  "Well, okay. But can't you call me your woman or girlfriend, or something."

  He didn't answer her, simply stepped forward, and bending down, he arranged her exactly as before, on her back with her hands at her side and her legs slightly apart before he knelt next to her on the bed. She really hoped the new walls would afford them more privacy. As it is she never wanted to see the doctor again. A vision of him measuring Zacar, and then researching human physiology had her giggling.

  "The others won't come in here, will they?" she asked, still giggling softly.

  "No." He stared at her for a long time, and she swallowed back the giggles that were mostly nerves now.

  He lifted her hair and combed his fingers through it then arranged the strands on the cushion to his satisfaction. His finger caressed her forehead and cheeks, and touched her nose again, but this time, he didn't plug her nostrils. Instead, he leaned down and briefly touched her brown hair with his lips then moved his thumbs down her neck and caressed the hollow at the base of her throat. Her shoulders received the same attention, as he caressed them and slid his hands down her arms until he twined his fingers with hers. Leaning down, he flicked his tongue over her forehead, cheeks, and neck. He briefly flicked that hot tongue over her shoulders and stopped at the very top slope of her breasts. She moaned and arched her back, trying to lift her breasts up for his lips. He had to have some kind of chemical on his tongue, because everywhere he touched, her body flamed to life. She twisted and would have thrown him off if he didn't hold her down.

  His hands untangled from hers to cup her breasts, caressing every inch of them while she twisted with pleasure. He moved on to her stomach and dipped a thumb into her naval in an almost curious gesture. His hands settled on her hips, his thumbs caressing the protruding bones and her stomach until she moaned and thought she'd come out of her skin. He tangled his hands in hers again, and flicked his tongue over every inch of flesh he'd just covered with his hands.

  She screamed, loud and keening with pleasure so intense she couldn't bear it. "Please, Zacar. I need...I need something."

  As if her plea had signaled some kind of reversal, he started over again, arranging her hair and caressing every inch of her body. When he flicked his tongue over her stomach and hipbones again, she screamed in pleasure but didn't speak.

  She held her breath as he untangled his hands from hers again and moved his thumbs over her pubic bone then rubbed the crisp hairs with his thumbs. Slowly, excruciatingly slow, he opened her with his thumbs. When he buried his face between her legs, she held her breath then came apart as those talented lips and tongue went to work. She moved her hips in jerky, needy movements, and moaned, begging incoherently like a crazy woman. The world spun around her as she came and she swore she heard fireworks go off over Zacar's roaring.

  When she opened her eyes, Zacar had his hands on her thighs, and his eyes burned down at her. Her body had never been this sated and relaxed. He definitely had something in his saliva, because her skin still tingled and burned with pleasure everywhere he'd licked her with those short flicking movements of his tongue.

  But he didn't stop there. Time after time, he would start by carefully caressing every inch of her body, playing with her hair, and kissing her skin. Limp and pliant in his arms, she would quickly become a frantic moaning creature of pleasure.

  "Let me rest," she pleaded. "Just half an hour then we could continue. Please, Zacar."

  "I do it right this time."

  Do it right? Wasn't that what he'd been doing this whole time?

  That was what he said every time, then he would torture her with pleasure so intense she fainted for longer periods with each orgasm. He would start at her head and work his way down, every now and then making a sound of dissatisfaction only to start over again. By the time he made love to her, she was out of her mind with wanting him.

  "If you do it any more right, I might expire from pleasure," she moaned in despair. This time she didn't beg him to stop, since that seemed to be a sign that he'd somehow done something wrong, and he should start all over again.

  Not once had he entered her body, even though she could see his penis fully erect and pulsing angrily. Maybe on their planet they didn't penetrate their women. She would have to teach him how to do it, if that was the case.

  Despite the fact that she'd had numerous orgasms already and her body was aching and empty, Zacar continued to torture her. Natalie was out of her mind with pleasure so intense she almost couldn't focus her eyes. Her body so sensitive, she flinched from his breath on her neck when he settled his lower body between her thighs at last. She sobbed in relief and widened her legs, welcoming him, the soles of her feet planted on the bed.

  He was at her entrance, slowly pushing in with increasing pressure. He was big but her body accepted him, though not easily. He pressed in, quickly and fir
mly, to the hilt and she screamed at the pleasure of it. She felt too full. He'd gone so deep, but she didn't care. She just wanted him to fill her up and satisfy the ache that had been growing deep inside her. He withdrew slowly and she moaned. He surged back in and this time they moaned in unison.

  From almost the moment she'd met him, she'd had a secret fantasy of him taking her, with strong, powerful movements that left her helpless and wanting more. Him moving over her, with his eyes blazing red with passion.

  His lovemaking, as beautiful as it had been up to now, hadn't fulfilled that fantasy. This moment did. He was savage in his need for her, merciless in his drive for satisfaction. It was the fulfilment of all her fantasies, and she clung to him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he drove them both to pleasure too intense to bear. Her orgasm rushed over her and vaguely, she heard him roar in triumph.

  Limp, unable to move, her body satisfied, she kissed the copper shoulder near her lips. She wanted to imprison him in bed for a long time. They could just stay in here and make love until they had to emerge for food. She raised her fingers and absently stroked his back. He'd collapsed over her but kept most of his weight off her, propping himself up on his forearms.

  Then something in the room changed. She frowned, the feelings of satisfaction left, to be replaced with dread.

  His head lifted with a slow, almost reluctant movement. "I have to do this, Natlia."

  "Do what?" she asked, still confused by the sudden change in the atmosphere.

  "This." He leaned down and bit her, two long, savage incisors piercing the base of her neck.

  Natalie screamed and everything went black.

  Chapter 10

  Natalie woke to absolute quiet. Even before she opened her eyes, she knew something was different, that her life would never be the same again. She frowned, trying to remember. Moaning, she drew the patchwork quilt over her. When her muscles protested, memories of Zacar making wonderful, soul-destroying, and relentless love to her the night before flashed through her mind. That, and he'd bitten her. That damn bossy alien had lulled her with pleasure, and then bit her with teeth the size of boulders.

 

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