“That’s not fair,” I said with a laugh. He put his fingers over my lips and began to kiss my neck. His other hand was gently gracing my waist.
The heat rose in my body instantly, and I could feel a warm glow coming from my lower stomach. The feel of his hands on my body filled me with a throbbing electricity that burnt brighter than any laser sword.
“Every inch of you is perfect.” He said, now kissing across my chest and delicately grazing my breasts. I moaned and my back arched towards him.
“Please, let me feel your skin,” I said, placing my hands on his barreling chest. I wanted to feel his unclothed body next to mine. I was hungry for it.
A kind of fury came over Arias, and he ripped off the top of his uniform and pulled me on top of him. He was lying on his back now and from this position, over him, I could take in just how perfect this man was. Like a God. I was to be the wife to a living, breathing God. A smile broke across Arias’ face.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, joining in his smile of delight.
“This is the most pleasurable moment of my life. And for the first time, there were no consequences.” He said. It was true. We were free. Free to enjoy each other just like this, and for the rest of our days.
“There is one consequence,” I said with a serious face. He knitted his brow in confusion.
“What is that?” He asked, pulling me in tighter.
“Since there is no Gate to fall through, we may be compelled to do this more than once tonight,” I said with mock gravity.
Arias grunted and did not speak. He flipped me over with one hand and pulled his pants loose. He was now fully naked before me, and I felt as though I could faint just at the sight of him. It was as though he was made out of marble or stone.
Slowly, gently, while looking into my eyes, Arias entered me, and I cried out, the pleasure was so intense, and the feel of him within me was so exquisite. A low, deep growl came from him as we moved to each other’s rhythm, picking up the pace and the force. He was going deeper and deeper, and I felt like I could collapse from the pleasure at any moment. I turned my head away.
“No, I need to see your face.” He said, pulling me back so that I was facing him. His expression was more intense than I had ever seen it before.
Arias’ movements were practically artful. He was touching me in places, reaching spots inside me, which he had never reached before. He had the force of a soldier, but it was not too much for me to take. It was never going to be too much.
“I’m so close.” I moaned, not wanting to finish too quickly. I wanted this to go on forever.
“Let go, my Love. Let go.” He said holding my face in his hands.
“I don’t want it to end,” I said with a hushed whisper.
Arias gently kissed me. I could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
“It never has to end.” He said. “We have all the time in the galaxy.”
With those words, it was as though my body completely released and I was overwhelmed by a rush of pleasure that had been building up for so many years. I felt like I had finally let go for the first time in my life. Years of anxiety, pain, hope, and loss were all converted into a wave of pleasure that filled my entire body. I cried out his name and grasped his back, trying to hold on and keep this extreme sensation from transporting me someplace other than here, at this moment.
I closed my eyes and behind my eyelids, I saw stars and galaxies, rushing by me on both sides. I heard the whistle of the wind blowing past my ears. I felt a cool breeze on my face.
Where am I?
I opened my eyes, and he was still there above me, with his hand on my flushed cheek.
I am home....
The End
Thanks for reading my story ‘Alien Cursed Souls'.
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Thanks for reading my story ‘Alien Cursed Souls'.
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The Descent
Everything was going wrong, and as I crouched beneath a desk listening to my team go out in a burning hail of gunfire, the pistol in my hand seemed an entirely inadequate lifeline. “Fuck,” I hardly dared to whisper. “What the fuck have I gotten myself into?” The steady barrage of gunfire reached a sudden crescendo, and something- someone slammed into my desk-come-refuge, jolting me forward, almost startling a squeal of alarm out of me. I clamped my hands over my mouth. My heart sounded like a passing el-train in my ears. It seemed that the only thing louder than my heart was my panicked breathing. Surely someone would find me in the next few moments. I stared out from beneath the desk at the bullet-riddled, blood-splattered office that would surely prove to be my grave. The pistol quivered in my quaking grip, and I waited. I knew someone was there. I knew it. Come on, you son of a bitch, I pleaded. Come on and get it over with.
…
Twenty-seven hours ago
“Kid, you’re cute as a button, and I don’t want to see that pretty face of yours smeared across a wall in some corporate high-rise.” The freelancer grinned apologetically at me. Several of his teeth had been replaced with crude steel replicas, lending his face a somewhat piratical, hard-bitten look. “Look, you’ve got spunk, but you wouldn’t last twenty minutes in a gunfight up there in the corporate heavens.”
Spunk? What was this, 1990? I took a step forward, putting myself just a little closer to him than was polite and said, “Come on, man, I need this job! And I can handle myself!” The freelancer tipped his head back a little, his smile becoming a little sharper, and a lot less apologetic. I could feel his eyes on me, and I did my best not to squirm. There was something slightly… wrong about the way his eyes played over me. I clenched my jaw. I couldn’t push. Couldn’t make him let me onto the team, not that way. It would be too easy, and besides, someone might find out more about me than I wanted them to know that way. No, I had to do this another way. I had to prove myself directly, without tricks, or I wouldn’t get anywhere.
I sized the big merc up in one long look that, judging by his suddenly intense interest, he took the wrong way. Fool, please. He was easily a head and a half taller than me, with the muscles of a man who could throw his weight around with ease, and the scars of a man who’d survived doing so many a time. In the Sprawl, scars and age meant skill, and they meant much more to the myriad denizens of the dark and perpetual damp than any degree or reference from the world above. My pedigree wouldn’t have been out of place in an exclusive corporate university or an interview for upper management. My multiple degrees and high aptitude scores would have earned me a place in the upper crust, but for recent events. But here, I was as fresh as a baby, too clean, too pretty, too… green. I had to earn my place on these streets, or I’d never make it here. The money was running out, and if I couldn’t get a place with a team and earn a little street cred, chances were I’d be dissolving in a reclamation vat within the month. To make matters worse, each team that turned me down was going to be a black mark against me to the next. No one wanted to take a chance on an unknown quantity.
Apparently, the freelancer team boss had decided that maybe we could work together in a different sort of capacity because he leaned in. “Listen, sweetheart, I-” But I didn’t wait to listen for his counter-offer. I ducked low and slammed my shoulder into his guts, about a foot below his center of gravity. The merc wheezed and folded over my back, but I wasn’t finished. Chairs skidded on the peeling plastic flooring as the big guy’s two friends stood. No time to worry about them. With a shout that I hoped was intimidating, I lunged forward and stood straight, sending the heavy man tumbling over me to land in a sprawl on his back in the middle of the floor. A wordless sensation crawled along my brain, and without waiting to figure out what it was, I dove sideways, rolling like a gymnast and coming up on my feet. A tall, scrawny figure stumbled past me, brandishing a stool, caught completely off balance. I seized the nearest bottle off of the counter
, ignoring the protests of its owner, and struck the stool-swinging bean-pole in the back of the head. The bottle didn’t break, but the skinny guy with the stool dropped like a day-late bubble stock. I frowned. Wasn’t the bottle supposed to break?
The big guy had gotten up to his hands and knees and was making to stand. No, you don’t. I took two quick steps toward him, seized his head in both of my hands, and in the same motion, I drove my knee into his skull as hard as I could. He returned to the floor in a slump, facedown in a thin film of cheap spilled “beer.” A hand came down on my shoulder, just as I remembered the third merc. Shit. He spun me about with vicious strength, his fingers digging into my skin like claws. I shifted my weight to hit him with my free elbow, then froze. Hovering little more than a few inches from my face was the point of a knife. “Alright, bitch,” spat the angry, wiry mercenary. “You ain’t bein’ cute anymore.” I looked between the knife-point and his eyes and swallowed hard. The mercenary’s eyes were slitted like those of a cat. Or a snake, I thought as I watched his tongue flick out compulsively to taste the air. It was too dark, too thin, and far too long. This one was a hybrid. Double shit. The sounds of the bar had died away to hushed silence, and no one wanted to meet my eyes. They knew what was going to happen. Any other great ideas? I thought furiously. Being dead would make it hard to get a job too. I might have to… NO. But I didn’t have a choice! Sure they’d find me, but I’d deal with that when the time came. I can’t control it! If I do this, I don’t know if I’ll be able to switch it off again! The center of my forehead began to itch. I watched the muscles in the serpent hybrid’s bicep tense, preparing for the killing blow. Now or never. I closed my physical eyes and-
There was a sharp crash of shattering glass and something heavy hit the floor at my feet. I opened my eyes. The snake-hybrid was sprawled out on the floor, the back of his head oozing dark blood from a dozen cuts. Standing over him, an indulgent grin stretching his bearded face, was a tall, genial-looking man with salt and pepper hair and an undeniable swagger to his stance. He dropped the neck of the shattered bottle on the back of the felled merc and said, conversationally, “Looks like Ed and his boys are out of commission, but my team’s a man short. You’ve got guts, girl, and it just so happens we could use some new blood on our crew for a job tomorrow night.”
I smiled sheepishly. “Are you sure I’m not too green?”
“Nah,” said the man, extending a broad hand for me to shake. “This is going to be a milk run. My name’s Keene. And you?”
…
Get it together, Vivian, I said to myself, furiously. You can’t sit here forever. You have to get out. A milk run. This had sure as shit not been a milk run. I couldn’t hear anyone moving out there. But I hadn’t seen who had done the shooting. A person would have had to move around. Their foot would move casings, crunch over fallen plaster and drywall. The silence meant that whatever had gunned down my team was standing perfectly still. Or it isn’t on the floor. Was it some kind of drone? I needed to know what was out there, but if I stuck my head out, I was likely to get it blown off. What did I have on me? Sadly, not a lot. A dwindling bottle of painkillers in my jacket pocket, a simple twentieth-century nine-millimeter, and my Lattice. I wasn’t a hacker, so the Lattice wasn’t going to do me much good. And everyone had one of those. If I switched on the computer in my brain and tried to connect to the Matrix here, at best, I’d be distracted when someone finally came around and put a bullet in my skull. At worst, the local corporate network security would detect me, and a hostile piece of security programming would melt my brain. What would I do with the Matrix, anyway? Like I said, I wasn’t a hacker. Call for help? Sure, if I had the credits to pay another freelancer team. But chances were, even if I had the money, they wouldn’t take a high-risk extraction like this. My team was dead. That didn’t speak well to the likelihood of survival for any team that tried to shoot their way in here.
There was another option, however. It wasn’t a good option. Like as not, the moment I tried this particular way out, I’d wind up crippled on the floor with overstimulation until someone heard me whimpering and shot me between the eyes. It was funny, really. The same thing that had ruined my life up there, in the world of the super-rich and powerful- that same trail was my only hope at life. It was my only way out of here. I closed my eyes. In truth, I couldn’t turn it off, the same way that my eyes could see even when covered by my eyelids. Sure, their field of view was obstructed, but a person’s sight didn’t actually go away when she closed her eyes. I turned my attention inward, to the place where another sense hid. This sense, not one of the traditional five, was nonetheless as much an integral part of me as my eyes, my ears, my tongue. I couldn’t get rid of it, no matter how much I wanted to. The damage was already done. I was no longer the golden child, the heir apparent. I wasn’t Vivian Hsu anymore. I was just Vivian. And it was time to make use of how I’d been made. I found that other sense, that third eye, and opened it. The dam broke.
My mind was instantly assaulted with a barrage of sounds, images, and smells. Occasionally, I would pull a snatch of a sentence out of the morass, but the truth was, whether in the Sprawl or up in the “corporate heavens,” people didn’t think in words all that much. All their subsurface thoughts, their subconscious desires, needs, and ideas about the world- that was all much more raw and unrefined. At least thirty million people lived in Columbia, and the sheer proximity and number of minds around me generated a solid wall of chaotic thought. It was overwhelming. It was the kind of thing that could easily swallow mind of a telepath. I had never learned to deal with this. I was always going to be tutored in the art of controlling my nascent abilities “later.” It wasn’t time, my parents always said, and they had a tutor teach me to close my inner eye, to save all of that for later. But now, I was trapped under a desk with an unknown number of enemies out there, and I had to get out of this building alive. The mission was obviously kaput. But I didn’t have to die here. All I had to do was learn to harness a power I’d never practiced. I could already feel a headache coming on. This was a bad, bad idea. I couldn’t get out of here if I had a crippling migraine.
What’s that?
It took me a moment to realize that the thought hadn’t been mine. I tried to focus in on it, find the little thread of cognition and hold on to it.
How many did the tip say were in the building?
I blinked. A tip? They knew we were here? Who would have tipped them off? And more importantly, how would they have known about the job? Keene had gotten the job straight from his fixer, just an hour before he’d hired me. There would have been no time for a corporate spy to follow the communications and suss out an informant. That was part of how the freelance operative world worked. Quick turnaround. Get the job, prep for a day or so, get rolling.
Five, right? Pretty sure I only see four bodies. I’d better call this in.
Shit, I thought. No, I couldn’t have whoever was out there calling for backup. I might be able to take one guy with some luck, but if they sent backup? I frowned. He couldn’t be alone, anyway. One guy couldn’t just gun down four people. But while I could barely hear him through the surrounding noise of the Sprawl, I should have been able to hear whoever else was in the room as well. Unless whoever else is in the room doesn’t think. I really didn’t want to stick my head out. This guy was probably a drone operator, and even if he didn’t see me, a hovering killbot with a needle-gun would kill me just as dead. But there might be another way. I didn’t just have to receive other people’s thoughts. I could put new ones in if I wanted.
I decided to start with something small. Still holding on to the little thread of the stranger’s thoughts, I thought, “Pretty sure the tip said four people were in the building.” I tried to think in the same voice that I had heard, tried to match it to the security goon’s internal voice. He had to think that it was his own thought for this to work.
Yeah, I’m probably just remembering wrong. It was four. Well, I guess I’d be
tter call the boss and tell him to send the cleaner. If the bigwig sees what a mess I’ve made of his private collection vault, I’m going to be seeing the inside of a reclamation vat along with these idiots.
I grimaced. A cleaner crew arriving wasn’t much better than the enemy backup. They would definitely find me, and they would have no problem shooting me. I didn’t know what else to try to tell the guy, though- my first thought had been logical. If I tried to get him to do something out of character, like putting down his gun and going home, his mind would reject it. And he would probably be able to figure out that someone was messing with his head. I heard a tinkle of metal as the guard’s boot sent a bullet casing skidding across the room. There was a barely audible whisper of static, and I was sure that the guard was trying to call someone on his helmet radio. Shit. Frantically I reached out for his mind in a blind panic, not sure what I could do to stop him from calling more people to the scene. It wasn’t like I could pull the thought out of his head. I’m not sure what I meant to do. Maybe distract him. Maybe trick him. I heard a body crumple to the ground and heard the guard let out a strange, strangled sound. Um, ok. Forgetting my fear of possible drones, I peeked out from behind the desk. As I’d suspected, there were drones. They were little metal spheres hovering beside each other, with a pair of needle-guns protruding from their reflective black bodies. But they seemed to be dormant, each of them flashing a little red LED from somewhere in their middles. Lying between them was a man, little older than I was.
Alien Romance Box Set: Romantic Suspense: Alien Destiny: Scifi Alien Romance Adventure Romantic Suspence Trilogy (Complete Series Box Set Books 1-3) Page 153
