Into the Stars

by Gwendolyn Field

  His response doesn’t come as quickly this time. I wait nearly half a minute in anticipation until his message blings across my wall.

  GO TO SLEEP, WOMAN.

  I stare, annoyed, before responding sassily, “You go to sleep, caveman.” But this time I don’t send it. I sigh and delete it, then climb into my clean bed to toss and turn the night away.

  ***

  I attempt to pass the time with one of my historical Earth novels the next day, but the story’s alpha male, who used to be so alluring to me, now comes across irritatingly bossy and stubborn. His crossness toward the heroine hits a bit too close to home. I toss the book to my table.

  A walk through the ship is in order. I wonder what the men do all day other than eat and work out. The ship essentially flies itself on autopilot, but I’m certain Rawko and Devlar spend time in the cockpit. As for the others? I don’t know.

  I pass the men’s barrack rooms along the hall, and the captain’s suite at the end. Then I’m in the main hall where the gym and sparring room are, with the entrance to the kitchen on the other side. If I turn down the following hall I’ll find the dining area, common room sitting area, and entertainment room.

  Grunts and thwacking sounds come from the gym, so I stop to peek in. I hold my breath at the sight of a glorious brawny back at the punching bag. Captain Lexon is surprisingly nimble on his feet as he bounces and swings, and I’m not sure how the punching bag remains attached to the ceiling with how hard he hits it.

  Lexon has black starburst tattoos around his elbows, and the bottom points of the stars go down to his wrists where they end in sharp spikes, making his arms appear as weapons. Which I suppose they are.

  “It’s not polite to spy,” comes a hissing whisper from behind me.

  I spin. Yahni looms over me, a sneer on his face that’s accentuated by the scar and the waves of hair shrouding his eyes. My back hits the wall and he steps closer. I’m certain he can see the pulse pounding in my throat. I remind myself Captain Lexon is just beyond the nearby doors. One yell from me and he’ll come running.

  “Excuse me,” I whisper, and attempt to go around Yahni, but he steps to block me. We’re playing a game of cat and mouse, and I have no doubt he’d enjoy shredding me with those teeth. I can’t shake the fear from my face as I chance a look into those bottomless eyes. He sees it. He’s savoring it.

  “What are you afraid of? That I’ll tie your wrists until your circulation is nearly cut off, and nobody will hear your screams through these soundproof walls?” Stars help me. “Or that you’ll be gasping for breath as I fuck you hard in the ass with my hand around your throat?” My mouth goes dry as I stare at him in frozen horror. “You should be afraid,” he whispers. “You should stay the fuck away from me.”

  “I’m trying to go,” I choke out, sliding several inches along the wall.

  “Try harder,” he says, and his eyes are fervent. I look away, look down, and see his arousal through his clothing. “Run, Reesa.”

  With a whimper, I dash away, past the kitchen, and turn the corner. When I realize he’s not following, I stop and lean against the wall to catch my breath. Curses! That man is sick! What happened to make him that way? I shake my head. Why do I let him frighten me? He can’t hurt me here. It’s all a mind game. But I can’t help the way I freeze up in his presence. I could slap him or knee him in the crotch, but he’s never laid a hand on me, so I’d be the one reprimanded. The thought of facing Captain Lexon’s wrath makes me shiver.

  “Reesa?” I look up to see Rawko coming out of the entertainment room with Tripoli behind him. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” I stand taller, my heart rate calming.

  He smiles, and beside him Tripoli looks up and down my flowing skirt and tunic blouse that’s tied at the waist. It’s the most modest thing I’ve worn so far, but he still looks as if he can see past the wrapper to the sweets beneath. Trip’s mouth pulls to the side in a fox-like grin.

  “We’re coming off break,” Rawko says, forcing my eyes from Tripoli’s lips. “You should come back here tonight after dinner and hang out with us.”

  “Oh…” Hang out with them? I chew my lip. “I don’t know.”

  “It’d be fine,” Tripoli says with an easy shrug.

  I hesitate and glance over my shoulder at the empty hall. “Who will be there?”

  “Us,” says Rawko. “Maybe Dev and Milaz. Sometimes Tiko.”

  At the non-mention of Yahni, I nod. “Okay.”

  Rawko heads the other direction toward the cockpit and Tripoli walks with me in silence until he goes into the gym where Yahni is at a weight bench, and Captain Lexon is spotting him. I rush past before they can see me.

  I’ll have an early lunch, then work out and take a nap since I didn’t sleep well last night. Tonight, I will attempt to be social. I wish myself luck.

  ***

  After my workout, I nearly bring myself to climax in the shower, but I hold back, wanting to savor that feeling of need until I see Milaz tonight. I’ve never felt like this before, so easily aroused throughout the day. I used to touch myself once or twice a week, mostly out of boredom. I think I must be breathing in too much testosterone or something. Galaxy knows, there’s enough of it in this recycled air.

  I squeeze into a black dress that falls to my knees. The stretchy material is snug to my chest on top, showing an inch of cleavage, but flares out at my waist and moves with me. I pair it with heels, and do my makeup and hair before I go. My nerves peak as I near the entertainment room, filled with their voices. I almost turn back, but I know Rawko will give me grief if I don’t show. So I place my hand to the wall panel, and the door slides open.

  I step in and am surrounded by the warm scent of men. They hush, stopping mid-action, and stare at me. It’s almost comical. I should have kept my modest clothing on, but it’s only an hour until Milaz is to come to my room. A quick scan of their hungry faces has me feeling relieved, because the captain and Yahni are not among them. Neither is Tiko.

  “Do you play pool?” Rawko asks.

  “I have,” I respond. “Once or twice.” A twinge of pride rises up in me because I’m actually quite good.

  “You’re on my team then,” he says. “We’re up against Trip and Dev.”

  I catch Devlar’s eyes, and his hint of a smug smile makes my cheeks warm, remembering last night. Against the wall, Milaz is sitting in a chair, legs spread wide, watching us as he sips a dark ale. In particular, watching my legs through hooded eyes.

  I take a crack at the balls, and the men hoot with shock as I sink one of my stripes and align another. I laugh at their teasing admiration.

  “Only played once or twice?” Rawko asks.

  “More like once or twice a day,” Dev says.

  I smile, very aware of Milaz’s presence, watching me. I wonder how long it’s been since he had a woman. His blatant hunger ratchets up the feeling of arousal I’ve held onto all day.

  When it’s my next turn to shoot, I’m careful to bend over directly in front of Milaz, wondering what on Mars has come over me. I play coy, not meeting his eyes throughout the entire game, even as I swish slowly past him, my leg brushing one of his knees. He never moves a muscle, but I can feel the tension rolling off him in heated waves each time I’m near.

  Rawko and I win, and the others demand a rematch. I can’t remember the last time I’ve laughed so much.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Tripoli complains when Rawko drops a ball into the corner pocket.

  “I can’t help it if I’m good at everything,” Rawko says. “My partner, on the other hand, could use a lesson, the poor thing.” He sidles up behind me, forcing me to bend toward the table as he pretends to show me how to shoot. His hips press into my ass to a round of laughter, and before I can swat him off, a voice bellows across the room.

  “Get your prick off her.”

  It’s Milaz, who still hasn’t moved. I look at him for the first time, our eyes connecting, and it’s as if my
gaze crashes into an electric wall of fiery yearning. My breath catches, and damned if my panties aren’t suddenly soaked.

  Rawko backs away and puts his hands up, chuckling.

  The room goes quiet when Milaz stands and practically stalks to the door, slapping a hand against the panel. It slides open, but he doesn’t go. He turns and looks directly at me.

  “Let’s go,” he says.

  A zap zings up my spine.

  Rawko huffs. “It’s only seven forty-five. We’re in the middle of a—”

  “Fuck off,” Milaz says. He stares at me and I hand my pool stick to Rawko, following him out the door.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I’m half expecting a text to be on my wall screen when we arrive to my room ten minutes before our allotted time together, but if Captain Lexon notices the infraction he says nothing. It’s a good thing too, because I think Milaz would take his own captain’s head off if he tried to stop us right now.

  The moment the door slides closed, Milaz turns me and presses my chest against the wall, yanking my wrists above my head with one strong hand while the other opens the flap of his pants. I’m breathing hard as he pulls out his cock, which now lays heavily against my back. He lifts my skirt and pushes my legs wider. It happens so fast. His fingers move my panties aside at the crotch enough to feel my wetness, which makes him curse with lust. I press my hips back toward his fingers.

  Then his cock is there. Neither one of us has shed a scrap of clothing. He shoves into me from behind, barking out a yell as my body clenches around him.

  “You like that?” he asks, thrusting hard from behind, filling me over and over again as my palms press against the wall.

  “Yes,” I breathe. “Yes.” He fucks me harder and my lower abdomen tightens.

  I’m on my tip-toes for so long, moving against him, that my legs begin to shake. He grabs my hips as he pulls out with a pop, then he kicks one of my chairs out and sits in it, bringing me down to his lap, still with my back to him. He’s lounged with his long legs stretched wide as he was in the entertainment room. He inches my skirt up to watch, still pushing my panties aside as he lowers me onto him. He’s hot and slick.

  “That’s it, Reesa, fuck me. Take it all.”

  I use his hard thighs as leverage to hold myself up as I move up and down the length of his shaft, listening to him mutter dirty things that tingle my skin. He reaches around and yanks upward on my dress until it’s over my head. Milaz grasps my waist and lifts me off him, walking me to the bed. His pants fall and he kicks out of them.

  “Thought you were clever tonight, didn’t you?” We’re at the bed and he bends me over it, pulling my arms above my head again. My face and sensitive nipples press hard into the blanket. “You like to tease?”

  When I don’t respond, his hand rings out across my backside and the sting makes my head fly up in a sharp gasp. He struck me!

  “Answer me, Reesa. Did you enjoy making me suffer?”

  “Yes,” I say on a breath, and he smacks the other side of my ass. I scream and wiggle, but he presses a hand against the middle of my back and then whacks me again.

  “I thought so.”

  He rips his shirt over his head and shoves into me from behind, pounding over and over again. He’s loud, and so am I. My skin still stings and I’m so wet I can hear the sounds of our bodies moving together.

  “Tease me again,” he says, “And I will fuck you in front of them.”

  I whimper and he smacks the side of my ass again. His fist goes into the back of my hair and pain throbs from my scalp as he pulls me up until his lips are at my ear.

  “Do you understand, love?”

  “Yes,” I say. “Yes!”

  He pulls out and turns me, crushing our mouths together. At the same time, he grabs under my thighs, fingers digging into my ass as he lifts me and turns us. My legs twine around his waist and my back slams against the wall. He moves his hips to align us, and shoves upward to deeply penetrate me. His kiss is hard, his tongue demanding. He releases my lips and his mouth moves down my neck, his facial hair scratching my delicate skin. All the while he pumps his hips upward.

  “That’s it, my little Nevesta. My bad fucking girl.”

  I let myself focus on the feel of him inside of me, the way my clit presses against the base of his cock with each deep thrust. Gravity presses me down onto him.

  My head falls back against the wall, and my breathing shallows, quickening.

  “Milaz…”

  “You want to come?” His hips ram harder, pressing with enough friction to break me.

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me,” he growls.

  “Please. Make me come. Oh…oh, stars. Oh…”

  He shouts something akin to a war cry and I feel him pulse deep inside me as our cores are pressed together and my body seizes with pleasure. I’m rocked over and over in zapping waves that crest through me and leave my limbs trembling.

  The tension seeps from Milaz and he slumps against me a moment before turning and carrying me to the bed, sliding his cock out and setting me down with surprising gentleness. I am a worthless, panting, pile of skin. He puts both palms against the edge of the bed and leans on it, closing his eyes as he catches his breath.

  I reach up and stroke a lazy finger down the scruff along his cheek. When he allows me, my hand travels up and over the smooth top of his head. His eyes crack open and he gives me a mock glare.

  “I’m still angry at you.”

  I bite my lip against a smile. “I’m sorry.”

  “You are not,” he mutters.

  “Okay, I’m not.”

  He laughs and his entire face is transformed. Milaz has adorable dimples in both cheeks, and I can’t help but break into a smile myself.

  Once we’ve fully calmed, he asks, “Did I hurt you?”

  I take note of my body, the aches and stings and remnants of discomfort from his roughness.

  “No,” I say honestly.

  “Well, then.” He grasps my breast in a hard squeeze and I suck in breath. “I’d better try again.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I’m a little worse for wear the next morning. I take an elixir before I leave to exercise. Then I soak in a hot Epsom salt bath until I’m as wrinkled as the dried apricots we nibble on special holidays.

  Afterward I pull on a comfortable, loose dress and stretch out on my bed to research the history of Keplar. I’ve always been fascinated, in general, about alien life forms that humans now interact with regularly, but it’s not until meeting Yahni that I have a personal, invested interest.

  An Earth vessel landed on Keplar three hundred years ago. Keplar was the “Earth” of its galaxy. Its planet is almost exact in its relation to its sun, with beings that breath oxygen, and plants that breathe carbon dioxide. Though the plants and animals differ, the intelligent species are extremely similar in appearance and speech patterns. Soon enough they realized humans and Keplarians were similar enough to breed.

  Primary differences between the species lie in regards to their emotional and mental makeup. Keplarians are a younger species, and therefore less biologically mature. They live by a more animalistic mindset of kill or be killed. React first, think later. Survival of the fittest. Braun over brains. Much the way humans were before rules of civilization came into play.

  I can’t help but wonder how Yahni came to be. If his Keplarian father was on Mars, then he must have been intelligent and civilized enough to either be a trade-vessel captain, or part of the intergalactic military force.

  Before I know it, hours have passed and the robotic voice is pleasantly telling me dinner is ready. I flick a finger and the wall panel opens with a tray of hot stew and warm bread. I eat every bite.

  I consider going to the entertainment room again, but decide to remain in my room and continue reading. Again, I lose track of time until a message pops up in the corner of the wall screen. It’s Tripoli’s face, video messaging me. My stomach does a small flip as I realize it
’s time to acquaint myself with another of the men. I turn off my reading material so that his face fills the screen. Holy stars—it’s 8:02! But wait. Why is he video messaging instead of coming to my room?

  “Hey, girl,” he says casually.

  “Are you feeling well?” I ask, though he looks fine.

  “Yeah, I’m good.” His lips pull to the side in a sexy grin. He appears to be in a small room with no decor. It must be his barracks. “Do me a favor,” he says, his voice lowering an octave. “Climb up on the bed.”

  Oh. My belly flutters as I obey.

  “Scoot closer. Right there, to the edge.”

  I swallow and move closer to the screen.

  “Lay back and lift your knees.”

  My breaths are coming faster as I take his directions, filled with a mix of nervousness and excitement.

  “Now, pull your dress up.”

  I gather the material in my hands and pull it to my waist, revealing my legs, my knees together.

  “Take those off, Reesa.”

  I lift my hips and slowly pull off my panties, my heart hammering. I watch him on the wall screen, his dark eyes glued to my body. The stallion.

  “Open your legs,” he commands.

  It’s different doing this with someone watching, not physically present. It feels even naughtier somehow. I open my legs to reveal myself. He leans forward and his voice gets huskier.

  “You stay just like that. You hear me, babe?”

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  The wall screen flickers off, and I’m left listening to my own breaths, feeling the cool air against my exposed, warm core. My heart thuds faster in anticipation until the door slides open and Tripoli is coming through, his face serious as he strides to me without stopping or undressing. He bends straight down and buries his face between my thighs. My cry comes out shuddered.

  I arch and grasp his hair between my fingers as his hot mouth covers my clit and he suckles. Receiving oral sex is Sheralyn’s favorite thing in the world, and now I understand why. It’s never been like this for me.

  “Trip…” I moan his name. Then his tongue is flicking and lowering, circling my hole, delving in as deeply as his mouth will let him, curving upward inside of me. I gasp. His tongue slides down, straight over the crack of my ass, circling my anus and making me cry out and squirm. He holds the tops of my thighs to stop me from wiggling away from his ministrations.