by Alana Khan
I’m trying to do my job and protect Lexa. I’m busy scanning the environment, looking for possible threats, but it’s hard to pull my eyes from Daneur Khour’s face. I dracking hate the male. There were times in the military when the only thing that kept me going were dreams of surviving to kill the motherdracker. He’s less than ten fiertos away from me, and I can’t act on that impulse.
He’s said to be the most powerful male in the galaxy, surpassing even the leader of the Federation himself. The dracker has four bodyguards posted nearby. If I try anything I’ll be dead before his severed head hits the floor.
Half the time he’s not even playing klempto, he’s ordering his female assistant around. The way she attends to his beck and call, I think she’d drop to her knees and suck his cock under the table if he told her to. I heard him say he’ll be on Lusion for several more days. I’ll have time to devise a plan later, when I’m not protecting Lexa.
Although I’ve been attracted to Lexa since the first moment I saw her, I have to admit that watching her play has only increased her appeal. She’s talented. It’s as if the two cards that sit face down in front of every player are face up to her trained eyes. She seems to know what everyone has. As stubborn as she is away from the poker table, she’s smart enough not to be when she’s playing—she knows how to fold a hand when she’s not the winner.
She looks tired. Her neat stacks of chips have quadrupled. I’m going to get her out of here.
Lexa
“Let’s go, Pet. I’m in need of your services back in our room,” he says lewdly, having the balls to look blatantly at my boobs and waggle his eyebrows. I know we agreed to act out these characters, but he’s enjoying his role a bit too much.
“Yes, sir,” I simper while kicking his foot under the table. He grabs me several empty racks for my chips, accompanies me to the cashier, and we check out with five times more gold than we started with. I see now why having a burly, well-armed bodyguard was on the top of Thantose’s mind. I don’t know how safe it is to be walking around Lusion with all this money—especially in the no-tell motel we’re staying at.
Part of me just wants to grab some shitty carry-out food and go back to our room to eat so I can slip out of my haftique. But why eat in all that filth when we could dine at a five-star restaurant enjoying the fruits of my labors? After a day of full exposure, I’m almost used to it anyway.
As we enter the fanciest restaurant in the casino, I whisper, “How am I supposed to eat with this freaking veil covering my mouth?” It doesn’t just cover my mouth, it falls all the way to where my cleavage would start if my boobs were big enough to have cleavage.
“I’ve never been to Lusion before, I don’t know. Watch what the other females are doing.”
I’m the only woman eating at this time of night. It’s far after midnight and the only beings around are hardcore gamblers—no pets in sight. I’m hungry enough that necessity is the mother of invention. I just lift the side of the veil and manage to get food to mouth.
Eating in space is like one big episode of Chopped—swallowing all sorts of foods I’ve never heard of before and discovering if they’re edible or not. Sextus ordered a bunch of things and I found several dishes that were delicious.
“You did well today, Pet,” he teases, this time with a real smile. “I thought you were losing several times, but when you revealed your hand you always surprised me and came out the winner.”
My tummy does a happy flip-flop when he praises me. I’m not sure why.
“Want to celebrate with some golrabi nectar? It’s said to be one of the finest spirits in the galaxy.”
“You want to squander all our winnings?”
“No.” He looks me square in the eyes and says, “I want to toast my beautiful, talented Pet.”
My stomach flips again. Is he flirting with me? I’ve never been on the receiving end of flirtation. If that’s what’s going on, it feels delightful.
“You trying to get me drunk, big boy?” Oooh, I had no idea I could do it, but I think I’m flirting back.
“Why would I waste my time with that, Pet? I’m your master, I could just order you to do anything I want. Why would I bother trying to charm you?” He graces me with another sexy smile and I realize it’s really not my tummy that’s squeezing in appreciation, but approximately six inches lower.
“Bring on the nectar,” I say, feeling like I’ve already drunk a glass or two.
The liquor is sweet and bubbly and goes down easy. Four glasses later, we hovercar back to our delightful home away from home. Before I shower I meticulously lay a path of clean towels from my side of the bed to the bathroom so I can walk to and from without having to touch the carpet.
“Want these?” I magnanimously hold up the rest of the stack to my blue roomie.
“Do you have some type of phobia about the floor?”
I hand him the stack without leaving my spot on the clean towel. “I grew up in rooms like this. Let me just tell you that the first time your naked pre-adolescent foot steps into a viscous pile of man-goo you make certain ‘never again’ vows to yourself. That was the last time my skin touched motel carpet.” I stalk to the bathroom while never leaving my clean, white path, and shut the door, afraid of what the look on his face might reveal.
It’s only after my shower while lying in bed that I realize the nectar packed way more of a punch than I was aware. I have a minor case of the swirlies—not bad enough to hurl, but serious enough that the bed is spinning.
I take my concentration off that by allowing my thoughts to wander. And my willful, little mind arrows straight to an interesting imagined video of what’s going on behind the bathroom door. It’s playing in slow motion—how very creative of me.
I see every muscle slide beneath that beautiful skin as he removes his black cargo pants and sexy, tight black t-shirt. Because of my voyeurism earlier today on this very bed, I know every curve and hollow on his body. I can accurately imagine every cobalt-blue swirl and whorl.
I watch the indent in his haunch bunch as he steps into the shower. Beads of water sliding down his dark hair and luscious blue skin call to me. In my imagination his cock is hard, and I see it bobbing under the pelting water.
I turn off my internal video and try to shut things down. Damn that nectar, it’s twisting things in my brain. I don’t want to think these thoughts anymore. My evil brain follows my orders, but only to a certain point. I’m no longer picturing the handsome male in the bathroom; now I’m focusing on the insistent pulsing between my legs.
I don’t understand how, in the span of less than a day, I’ve gone from hating Sextus to thinking about kissing him. Well, actually I’m thinking about a hell of a lot more than just kissing him, but I don’t want to admit that, even to myself.
Maybe that was magic nectar. I should despise him. He tried to blackmail me in a most vile and heinous way. I giggle. I sound like a pitiful Victorian heroine talking like that, even in my head.
Well, vile villain or not, I can’t stop wondering how it would be to kiss those lips and feel his powerful arms around me.
“Go to sleep, Lexa, before you get yourself in deep, deep doo-doo.” I giggle again. I’ve gone from poor, pitiful Victorian waif to five-year-old little girl talking about feces in euphemisms. “I’m going to sleep,” I order myself as I turn over and plump my pillow.
I do this just in time to see the object of my lusty fantasies open the bathroom door and walk buck naked toward my side of the bed. Keeping my eyes almost closed, I fake sleep.
He has the stack of clean towels in his hand and bends over to lay his own path from where he’s standing all the way over to his side of the bed. I open my eyes wider to watch the show as he meticulously lays each one down. I have a ringside seat to watch this perfect male specimen bending, and then standing over and over.
My mouth is dry and I think I’ve quit breathing altogether. I remind myself why I hate him, but all I can pay attention to is how perfect his blue b
ody is and how amazing it would feel to trace my fingers along those swirling cobalt patterns.
“I know you’re watching me, Lexa,” his voice is so deep and sexy I pay attention to that rather than the fact that I’m so busted. “Maybe I was right after all when I said we were two of a kind,” he chuckles.
Perhaps it’s the nectar, but I’m not even offended by his statement. I just lean back on my bent elbows, my eyes wide open, and brazenly watch the show.
“I had too much nectar. This is all your fault. Were you trying to get me drunk?” That’s right, I tell myself, the best defense is a good offense.
“I don’t recall reaching under your halftique and forcing those drinks down your throat. But it’s okay,” he shrugs, “you can blame your lustful thoughts on the drinks.”
“You gonna tell me why you hate the purple guy?” I figure it’s a good time to change the subject.
His facial muscles tighten as he climbs in bed, turns on his side to face me, and rests his head on his hand. “Not your concern. That might be something I discuss with a friend, not my pet,” he goads.
“I might like to be your friend,” I blurt.
“Friend, little Lexa?” His eyebrow quirks in an interesting, sexy way that sparks desire along my veins.
“You called me an untouched, what does that mean?” Crap, are the effects of the nectar still getting stronger? What kind of liquor is it? Why am I bringing this up?
“You’re not stupid, Lexa. That probably translated quite well.”
“Okay,” I persist, not leaving well enough alone. “So untouched means...down there.” I dart my eyes downward as if he needed additional direction. “You said you wouldn’t touch an untouched. Does that include kissing?” No, no, no, Lexa. Why did you just say that?
I have a Ph.D. in psychology and it’s not until this minute I realize I’m certifiably insane.
I’m watching him closely. All the education and training I have on reading people is information I’ve only used at the poker table, but right now I’m using every iota to read Sextus. I’m noticing every micro-movement of his cheeks and lips and all the tiny muscles around his eyes. I’m trying to discern what he’s thinking. A fucking Ph.D. and I can’t read him at all.
“What game are you playing, Lexa? Wasn’t ten hours of poker enough fun for today?”
His face is like stone. Okay, moment of truth. I tune in to my gut one more time. Yeah, it wants to kiss him right now. Even though my brain knows it’s the worst idea in the history of the universe. Even though a woman wiser than me would turn over and go to sleep right now. Even though klaxons and red lights are blaring and flashing urgent warnings inside my brain. Nope, I’m going to double down on my previous statement.
“I want to kiss you, Sextus. Just for tonight I want to feel your lips on mine and comb my fingers through your hair and explore the muscles under your blue skin.” I exhale heavily as worry bombards my brain. Act in haste, regret at leisure. Great job, Lexa, now you’ve given him another opportunity to reject you and you can’t even run to your room and hide this time.
“This is true?” He cocks his head and lowers his brow, trying to discern fact from fiction.
He didn’t turn me down; maybe that’s a good sign. I remind myself he was willing to spend half a year’s pay for five days with me. Maybe he’s interested.
“I still want to remain...untouched. I’m not ready for…” What exactly am I ready for, I ask myself. “But I’d like to know what it’s like to be kissed. And I’d really like to find it out with you.”
Sextus
Earth is a strange place if a beautiful female can grow to this age having never been kissed. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll find out how this happened. But right now, I’ll give this female what she asked for, and I want to make it worth waiting for.
“Turn over, little Lexa,” I put honey in my voice and let her see the hot sparks in my eyes.
“You’re...not interested?” she asks, her voice soft, maybe hurt.
“I’m very, very interested. I’m so interested that we’re going to take our time. When we’re done, you tell me how interested you think I am.” I smile and tip my head, a silent request for her to turn over.
She lies on her side, facing away from me. I flip the blanket off her so I get the full picture. Although my cock is already straining toward her, I take a slow moment to inspect her from the top of her head to the bottoms of her feet.
She’s wearing her usual uniform of what the females call a t-shirt and leggings. Her brown hair is long and wavy. The indent of her waist is pronounced. Her curves beckon. But all she asked for was a kiss, and that’s what she’s going to get.
I scoot toward her, draw her hair to one side and trail it over her shoulder so I have access to her neck. Slinging my arm around her, under her breasts, I nestle myself next to her. She has to feel my cock pressed against her ass, but she’s the one who asked a naked male to kiss her, and then she asked again. Kisses she will get.
I start with close-lipped nibbles on the back of her neck from neckline to hairline. Then my tongue retraces the path I just made. Now I nip little bites of her skin into my mouth, lipping her, making small, wet noises of my moist flesh mingling with hers. Her breath hitches even before I approach the sensitive skin on the side of her neck toward her ear.
Circling the edge of her ear with the tip of my tongue, I nip her almost-nonexistent lobe. I exhale hotly in her ear, and she breathes in sharply. When I suck in, she grunts softly in surprise.
Cocking my head, I sneak a peek at her face. Her mouth forms a little “O,” her eyes are closed, her entire attention focuses on what I’m doing.
I slip my arm down to her waist and drag her closer to me, then jack my hips back after realizing I was about to give her far more than she asked for.
“Now would be a good time to tell this blue barbarian to stop, little Lexa. You can say you’ve been kissed. Even tell your friends about it. If you regret it, you can blame it all on me. We could go to sleep right now. Tomorrow we could pretend it never happened. There’s no disgrace in changing your mind if you think you made a rash decision.”
She flips over to face me and gently cups my cheeks with her palms. Wisps of her sweet breath caress my chin and lips. Her fingers comb through my hair, then lodge in it.
“No regrets thus far, Sextus. On my planet, though, a kiss is usually defined as lips on lips.”
She slashes me a sexy, lazy smile.
She may be an untouched, but she’s a grown female and she’s making it clear she knows what she wants.
Lexa
My body is humming in a way I’ve never experienced before, and it has nothing to do with the golrabi nectar. No, it’s the handsome blue male I’m looking at. His thick hair feels silky, his eyes are pale blue in the murky darkness. Usually, he looks so serious and angry, but right now, although he’s serious, even an untouched can tell it’s from desire.
His cock pulses against my belly. In the past, when I imagined getting to this point I thought it would be disgusting and scary. But nope, nothing vulgar or frightening here. It’s hot—sexy. Everything about this moment is turning me on, from the lusty fire in his eyes to the pulsebeat I feel in his cock, to my own erotic responses.
Wetness pools between my legs, my nipples form rigid points beneath my shirt, and I can’t tear my gaze off his lips. He’s smiling as he slides his hand behind the curtain of my hair and pulls me closer to him. He’s moving in slow motion, maybe to give me time to back out, maybe to prolong the anticipation.
I grab his muscular shoulders, getting ready for the ride. He kisses me softly once, twice, three times. I melt into it. Although I know it’s only the beginning, I’m already moaning softly in the back of my throat.
“You like that, little Lexa? You like my touch? How about my taste?” his voice is rough, gravelly.
His tongue slips between my willing lips and slickly explores. I pay attention to a hundred things at once from the feeling o
f this mini-penetration, to his taste, to how tightly I’m clinging to his rock-hard body.
My tongue needed no direction from my brain. It’s circling his, savoring its gentle rasp, noticing the slick underside.
There are few things in life that I feel I’ve been born to do, that needed no instruction, that came as spontaneously as this. But this, this magical melding of tongue to tongue, flesh to flesh is the most delicious, instinctive, and intuitive thing I’ve ever done.
I find the courage to grasp the fleshy globes of his perfect ass and press him against me. I gasp in excitement and delight and, yes, a little fear when his steel-hard rod pulses against my stomach.
Hearing deep, heavy panting, I assume this foreign sound is coming from him until I realize I’m producing it. I’ve felt desire before. I’ve taken care of myself when my body’s needs beckoned. But this level of passion, the craving, the yearning? No, I’ve experienced nothing so compelling in my life.
