Mystic

by Cheryl Brooks

“No rush. I’m just getting started.” She was about to go down on him again when her first orgasm detonated. “Hold on a sec.” She gasped as her core contracted, doubling her over with ecstasy. Several pants later, she finally had enough breath to spare for speech. “Oh wow. That was a good one. They’re all good, actually. Some might be stronger than others. Probably depends on how frequent they are. Maybe the first is always the best. I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

  The only light in their quarters came from a transom above the door. Nevertheless, it was enough to enable her to see the shine on one of his fangs when he smiled. “Am I your latest research project?” Amusement colored his tone as he stroked the length of her arm with a fingertip. A wave of goose bumps swarmed in the wake of his touch.

  “You’re a whole lot more than that. Sorry if it seems that way. Guess I’ve been in college too long.” Although being with him was easily the most exciting form of research she’d ever undertaken. “But don’t worry. I’m not taking notes or writing a paper on Zetithian sex, even though it would make a terrific dissertation topic, certainly the most enjoyable.” She shot him a wink. “Speaking of which, I believe I’m ready to try again.”

  He waved a hand. “Don’t let me stop you.”

  “I won’t.” She settled down beside him, cupping his testicles with one hand while grasping his cock with the other. She was about to remark upon the crimson gleam where his joy juice ran down the thickly veined shaft when she remembered that the red glow came from her own eyes. Avoiding the orgasmic fluid, she ran her tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock, marveling at the firmness of the underlying tissue and the velvety softness of the skin. He really would make an excellent subject for research, although he would undoubtedly test her descriptive vocabulary.

  “Tell me some more Zetithian words.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yeah. For example, what’s this called?” She gave his dick a tug.

  “Cockaj.”

  “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

  “Nope. That’s the word. The orgasmic lubricating fluid doesn’t have a Zetithian name, which we’ve always considered to be a severe oversight. Everyone calls it joy juice.”

  “That works for me.” She dipped a hand toward the juncture of her thighs. “And this?”

  “Loresh.”

  “What about a woman’s lubricating fluid?” If he said “pussy juice,” she fully intended to smack him.

  “Loreshtai.”

  “Damn, those are great words. Not crazy about the word for semen—a name like snard doesn’t in any way do justice to such a remarkable substance—but it’s a cut above the usual vulgar slang, and heaven knows there’s nothing remotely romantic about the correct anatomical terminology.”

  Laughter shook his chest. “I can’t say I’ve had much experience with situations like this, but I’m guessing you’re the first woman to ever use the words ‘anatomical terminology’ while engaging in sex with a Zetithian.”

  “Hey, it’s who I am,” she said with a shrug. “Not sure that’ll ever change.”

  “I’m not complaining.” This time, his smile revealed both fangs. “Simply remarking upon your inherent uniqueness.”

  “I’m good with that. You’re pretty unique yourself.” She gave his cockaj a quick lick and waited for the subsequent orwanda—delightful though it was—to subside before taking him in her mouth again.

  The flavor and feel of him were truly delectable. Was there anything about him that wasn’t appealing? If there was, she had yet to discover it. Perhaps she never would. Having evolved around the need to entice rather than subdue a mate, Zetithian mating behavior was very different from that of humans. Granted, human males were attractive, but no more so than the females—unlike, say, birds, where the males had brighter colors and showier feathers. In contrast, the only difference between the genders of some mammalian species was their genitalia.

  Aidan certainly had some remarkable genitals. The overall size and structure were no different from that of any well-endowed human male, until you reached the head of the penis. She’d never seen anything quite like it. The base of the domed head had a fleshy, ragged edge with rounded points that appeared to be the source of the orgasmic lubricating fluid. She backed off and slid her tongue between the points, working her way around the entire circumference of the head.

  While this was an interesting endeavor in its own right, what it did to Aidan was nothing short of astonishing. Fluid seemed to pour from the tips of the flange, as well as from the slit in the top of the head, and the sounds he made were gasps, moans, and purrs combined.

  When the inevitable result of licking his dick occurred once again, she paused until it passed for fear of biting her own tongue. She’d assumed the intensity would diminish in time, but apparently two orgasms were not the upper limit. How many it would take before her body could no longer respond was a treat for another day. This day would forever be identified as the day she had her first taste of snard.

  Despite the orgasms, her nipples still tingled with anticipation, and her clitoris remained amazingly tight and sensitive. There was no down time to allow her to relax and fall asleep; the need to mate with him had reached a peak and stayed there. Perhaps the snard would satisfy her, but until then, she didn’t want to stop—couldn’t even conceive of wanting to stop. Such was the allure of the Zetithian male.

  Aidan wasn’t just another Zetithian hottie, either. He was the only Zetithian she wanted. The attraction wasn’t so nonspecific that any one of them would do. Curly was a handsome fellow, but she had no desire to suck his cock.

  She lay with her head pillowed on Aidan’s stomach, his big, ruffled cockhead pointed right at her lips. Stroking the underside of his long shaft with the palm of her hand, she caressed her cheek with the smooth head while the slick sauce coated her skin. She had somehow managed to get enough of his juice on her lips to set off another orgasm when she realized she wasn’t the one doing the caressing.

  Twisting around to stare at him, she demanded, “How are you doing that?”

  “Another Zetithian specialty,” he murmured. “Complete directional control.” To illustrate, he rotated his cock in circles, swung it side to side like an overly enthusiastic metronome, then drummed it on his stomach. “I haven’t had much practice. Some of us can move theirs so fast, it actually vibrates.”

  “Oh wow,” she gasped as he made a creditable attempt at vibration. “You’re showing me this now? When we’ve decided that actual intercourse is inadvisable?”

  Sighing, he cupped her cheek and turned her face toward him. “I just love it when you get clinical.”

  Somewhat embarrassed, she averted her eyes. “Sorry about that.”

  He slid his fingers through her hair in an intimate caress. “Don’t be. Your word choice and inquisitive nature are part of your charm.”

  “Glad you think so, because I have lots of questions.”

  “Such as?”

  “For starters, what’s the Zetithian word for sex? The verb form rather than the noun. Hopefully, one that doesn’t start with F and end with K?”

  He frowned as though thinking hard. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one. In the meantime”—he tapped her arm with his penis—“think you could pick up where you left off?”

  “Sure. Although, as I recall, I was in mid-orwanda at the time.”

  “You’ve probably had long enough to recover from that one. A good, long lick should get you back to where you were.”

  “Promises, promises,” she scoffed. However, his prediction proved to be correct as yet another climax rippled through her. “Was that a guess or are you catching glimpses of my future?”

  “Let’s call it an educated guess.” He exhaled a loud purr as his lips curled into a seductive grin. “I can’t see your future, Sula. Although I have seen evidence of your e
ffect on others.”

  She was about to ask who, but her query died on her lips when he tapped her arm with his dick again. “You’re right. We can talk about that later.”

  Resuming her position, she wrapped her hand around his cock and gave it a tug. “Since you can’t think of the Zetithian version of the F-word, which I find very hard to believe, would you please fuck my mouth? These damned orgasms keep distracting me.”

  Aidan burst out laughing. “I can see where that might be a problem.”

  “Mind you, I’m not complaining, but apparently, I can’t do this on my own.”

  “Gotcha. I’ll supply the meat and the motion if you’ll supply the pressure and friction.”

  “Deal.” Gripping his shaft with her hand, she slid the head into her mouth. The angle was perfect as he began slow, rhythmic thrusts. Not too deep or vigorous at first, they gradually increased in rate and depth. Sula didn’t have a drop of Norludian blood in her, but she felt a different kind of climax building simply from having his cock pumping in and out of her mouth.

  As his breathing grew shorter and his purr increased in volume, his dick became unbelievably hard, so much so that the engorgement seemed to cut off the flow of his orgasmic fluid.

  Trust Zetithian biology to have found a solution to every conceivable reproductive quandary.

  Two thrusts later, his breath caught, and his purr became a snarl. Sliding her hand to the base of his cock, she cupped his balls. As they surged against her palm, jets of sweet, creamy snard flowed over her tongue. She only had a few seconds in which to savor it before the sheer volume of fluid made her swallow. As his cock slid down her throat along with the semen, Aidan went wild, clutching the back of her head as he ejaculated once more.

  “Mother of the gods!” At least, that’s what Sula thought he said. As garbled as his speech was, it could’ve been anything.

  Sula couldn’t have uttered an intelligible word even if she’d known what to say. With something the size of Aidan’s cock down her throat, she was surprised she was even able to breathe. She was trying to imagine how she could unswallow him when the snard effect took hold. Her lips lost their grip, allowing his penis to glide from her throat. Heat welled up inside her core before billowing outward with an explosive force. Another swallow, and the heat became an inferno. Apparently snard, when ingested, packed an even mightier punch.

  In the next instant, the flames subsided to warmth so soothing, she would’ve sworn even her bones relaxed. She was relaxed, yes, but lighter too, like a bubble floating along on a rapidly flowing stream. The head of his cock was still in her mouth, and oddly enough, seemed to be moving.

  Raising her head, she stared at the organ in question. Despite the dim light, she was able to see that the coronal ridge was indeed moving in an undulating wave. “Does it always do that?”

  His shout of laughter surprised her even more than his wavy cock. “Sula, sweetheart…this is only my second time.”

  “Yes, but is it supposed to?”

  He nodded. “The prevailing theory is that it helps sweep the snard in the right direction.”

  “Makes sense.” Fascinated, she watched as the wave completed one circuit and began another. “I can’t imagine why I didn’t notice it before.”

  “Too many other things going on, I guess.”

  That much was true. “I’ll have to pay closer attention next time.” Thus far, the wave showed no sign of slowing. An experimental touch of her fingertip had no effect whatsoever. “Any idea how long it lasts?”

  “No clue.” He chuckled. “You can time it if you like.”

  She arched a brow. “More research?”

  “Absolutely. You could search the entire galaxy and never find a more willing subject.” He pulled her into his arms, kissing her with such tenderness and passion that her eyes filled with tears. “Take as many years as you need. A lifelong study would suit me very well.”

  Chapter 26

  At the end of yet another day in a week of fruitless detective work, Sula took her seat at the dinner table, anxious to try Aidan’s spin on chicken shawarma, which would undoubtedly prove to be the high point of the day.

  Abuti set a salad of fruit, nuts, and greens on the table before plopping down in the chair to Sula’s right. “I’m starving!”

  Curly flipped out his napkin and dropped it in his lap. “I’ve been thinking—”

  “Which is dangerous in itself,” Qinta interjected as she brought in an enormous bowl of rice.

  He made a face at the Treslanti girl before continuing. “Short of spacing those nanobots, the meanest thing we could do is drop them off on a really hostile world.”

  As promised, Aidan came in from the galley with a huge platter of shawarma. “Where did you have in mind?”

  “Remember that planet with the giant sandworms? Jetoc tells me it’s not far from here.”

  In mid-foodgasm simply from inhaling the fabulous aromas wafting toward her, Sula was at least able to speak. “I thought those bots didn’t have much range.”

  “Yeah, but anyone assuming we were en route to Ursa Prime might follow the same flight path and be able to detect them. JR-51 seems like a great place to lure a bunch of badasses. As soon as they sent a death squad out to kill you, the worms would eat their ship and strand them there.”

  “Feeling a bit bloodthirsty, are we?” Aidan drawled as he took the seat to Sula’s left.

  “Kinda,” Curly replied. “Reading through two hundred years’ worth of research grants and university payrolls has me feeling downright murderous.”

  Sula couldn’t blame him. She’d been bored to tears while researching a term paper before, but sifting through endless streams of data was mind-numbing. If they’d had someone tailing them through space the way they’d been followed through the streets of Damenk, she’d have been tempted to stand and fight if for no other reason than to break the monotony.

  She couldn’t even do that research in the same room with Aidan. After two days of staring at his back until she drooled—even turning her back to him didn’t help, because she kept peeking over her shoulder—she finally recommended that he do his share of the drudgery from Curly’s ready room. As grateful as he’d been for the suggestion, she could only assume that he’d welcomed the opportunity to allow what must’ve been a constant erection to subside. They’d spent every night together, but even that didn’t diminish her response to him throughout the day.

  Zetithians had been labeled as addicting before, and she was living proof of the validity of that claim. She might not die without Aidan, but she certainly was uncomfortable. Would pregnancy alleviate the constant yearning? Or would she feel this way for the rest of her life?

  Surely, the intensity of her desire would ease after a while. Older people remained affectionate, but passion tended to wane as years passed.

  Unless you happened to be a Norludian. In the course of writing her thesis, she had been unable to discover a mated pair of any age that didn’t exhibit signs of marked sexual interest.

  But she wasn’t a Norludian, and neither was Aidan. She was simply a human female completely hooked on an alien male.

  At least Giklor’s healing fluid hadn’t bonded her to Aidan, although it might as well have done. She’d read accounts of those who had been bonded. When they were separated, the one that had been “treated” underwent what amounted to a death and rebirth, after which they were actually able to visualize their mate’s scent trail. That ability was interesting and undoubtedly useful. It was losing the will to live when the other partner died that had her bugged.

  A sharp pang in the left lower quadrant of her abdomen brought her up short. Val’s most recent scan had demonstrated the dearth of artificial hormones in her system, which meant that tonight, she and Aidan could actually enjoy sex in the fullest sense of the word.

  Unfortunately—or was it for
tunate?—she was quite sure she had just ovulated. Generally speaking, most women didn’t notice such a subtle occurrence, but Sula had always been sensitive to that moment. Plus, if she remembered correctly, Zetithian semen acted like a fertility drug, causing multiple ovulations rather than the splitting of one fertilized ovum. If she were to have triplets with Aidan, they wouldn’t be identical, and three ovulations happening at once would be hard to miss.

  Wincing, she pressed a hand to the sore spot, a gesture of discomfort that didn’t go unobserved.

  Giklor reached a pallid hand across the table. “My dear Sula, are you unwell? Enough time has passed that I could heal—”

  Abuti slammed her palms on the table. “Dammit, Giklor. Will you please give it a rest? Not every bellyache is life-threatening, you know.”

  Giklor snatched back his hand. “I am well aware of that,” he said with a haughty sniff. “I merely offer my services should they be required.”

  Sula darted a quelling glance at Abuti before turning her attention to Giklor. “I’m grateful for your concern. But I’m pretty sure this isn’t something that warrants treatment.”

  Unless Aidan was in the mood to offer a cure. She’d found that snard possessed analgesic as well as euphoric properties. Hours sifting through computer data had left her with a crick in her neck and stiffness in her right shoulder. A dose of snard relieved the pain and sent her to sleep almost immediately. Tonight, however, she suspected the more traditional effect of semen would come into play.

  Was she ready for the possibility of bearing triplets? Was anybody?

  She reminded herself that she’d only known Aidan for a very short time. But so much had happened in those few days, she felt as though she’d met him years ago.

  She and Raj had been friends since their undergrad days, only progressing to a romantic involvement during the year before they embarked on their mission to Ecos. Her relationship with Aidan was so completely different, she couldn’t even begin to make a comparison.

  Aidan leaned toward her. “Something wrong?”