by Cara Bristol
From the far side of the parlor, she entered another hall, which led to the elevation tube. She wanted to punch the wall with frustration when she reached the portal and spied the gene scanner. Of course, everything had been too easy! Still, her cell had been unlocked, so maybe… She waved her hand over the screen, hoping it would work on a guest pass or something. Visitors came and went, didn’t they?
“Come on, please. Come on,” she whispered.
“Going somewhere?” Alpha’s voice sounded right behind her. Tara squealed and spun around.
Marlix folded his arms and smirked at her. That her escape attempt amused him obliterated her fear and raised her ire. She itched to slap the stupid smile off his face. But she knew how that would pan out, so she balled her hands into fists and wrestled her temper under control.
Operation Bug-Out had failed. She would need to revert to Operation Seduction.
Chapter Six
After conversing with Urazi and arguing with himself, Marlix had unlocked Tara’s door to permit her to “escape.” But when he watched her creep away via the monitor in his control room, he’d changed his mind and reprogrammed the genscan to deny her access.
The feleen had guts. Few females would have attempted so bold a move. She was so small, so defenseless, yet she stomped around like she ruled the world. She inspired his admiration—and his lust. His uniform shirt hung like a sack on her slight body, grazing her knees, and she’d rolled the left sleeve to clear her wrist. The rapidness of her breathing called attention to her mammary glands, but he would have noticed them anyway. Designed to bare the right side of the torso to reveal chest insignia, the shirt drooped to her waist. He’d seen many breasts, but hers fascinated him: the right one, exposed by the voluminous uniform, and the left one covered and all the more enticing because of it. His loins throbbed as he pictured her pink nipple pierced by his insignia, marked as his breeder. If he claimed her, she would be off-limits to all males except for those with whom he chose to share her.
Which would be no one. He would never share her. Not even with Urazi.
Pointless imaginings. She would never be his breeder, because she was Terran. The treaty probably did not allow her to be claimed, and for sure, Protocol forbade it. He doubted offspring could even result from such a mating, and if one did, his half-breed son would be shunned, his status even lower than a female’s. Marlix would lose his command for producing an abomination.
He should not want her, this female of a race he despised. But his guts twisted with virulent need. The longer she remained in his domicile, the greater it waxed. From his tumescence to his jaw, he ached.
Yes, he should have allowed Tara to escape. Once again, his impulse had countermanded his good sense. He wished he could have heeded Urazi’s advice to assuage the fever by using the Parseon female, but upon the sight of her, the prospect had deflated him. Then he’d spotted Tara on the monitor, and lust burned even hotter than before.
He was pondering his next move when she pushed off the wall and sidled up to him, her hips swaying like a reed in the wind. Her gentle scent teased his nostrils, and he inhaled. Then flinched when she touched his chest. Her gaze shuttered as she seared a line with her finger from below his collarbone across his pec to his nipple. She tugged on his insignia, and the yank traveled clear down to his groin. As hard as stone, his manhood strained against his uniform.
“What are you doing?” He glowered at her in his way that caused alpha warriors to quake.
“Being…friendly.” She gave another yank on his insignia and then traced the diagonal edge of his dark gray uniform shirt.
He grabbed her hand. Engulfed it. Her bones, so fine and delicate, her skin so smooth and soft, made his appear bulky, rough. As Alpha, he dwarfed other males of his species in more ways than one, but he’d never considered the full import of his size until now. Yet another reason why he could not use Tara. He would injure her.
“We are not friends,” he grated but continued to imprison her hand.
Her eyelids lowered, and she peered at him from beneath her lashes. With her free hand, she crooked her finger. Marlix bent his head. She brought her lips to his ear. Her breath tickled. A shudder rippled through him.
“We could be,” she whispered, and then licked his lobe.
Marlix reared back and flung her hand away from him. Lust pounded like a warrior’s drum. Except he was a fallen soldier. He retreated, put a step between them, but she followed and grabbed a handful of his shirt in her fist.
“Going somewhere?” She smiled.
“You mock me,” he said.
She shook her head. “I would never do that. You are Alpha.” She released his shirt but then slid her hand up his chest to cup his neck. His pulse skyrocketed.
Did she not understand the ramifications of her offer? No female initiated contact. They would not have dared, even if they had wanted to. Marlix grabbed her buttocks and hauled her against his throbbing erection, ground it against her to frighten her into retreat. But she wound herself around him like one of the many vines that grew in the wood and tripped unwary hikers.
She moaned.
Marlix was used to the cries of females, their discomfort, their pain.
But not pleasure, the way that moan had sounded. Her whimper winked at him, evoking the yearning for that undefinable satisfaction that had always eluded him.
He squeezed her buttocks with his overlarge hands, and she moaned again. He snapped. He seized her arm, bent, and flung her over his shoulder. He stormed toward his sleeping chamber.
“You are the caveman type, aren’t you?” She giggled.
Her laughter shot straight to his loins, and he almost shoved her against the wall and took her there, but he doubled his speed and charged into his chamber and slammed the door.
Her mirth evaporated when he flung her facedown over the round sleeping platform, freed his manhood, and yanked up her shirt. He guided his erection to her anus.
Tara twisted away and rolled to face him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She stared at him. “Hey, I like a little anal every now and then as much as the next girl, but not without so much as a kiss, not the first time I have sex with somebody, and damn sure not without lube. Have you lost your mind?”
Marlix blinked. No one ever yelled at him.
He sensed he’d erred, but didn’t know how—other than attempting to use her in the first place. But she had seemed to indicate she would welcome his attentions. Had he misread her? She’d mentioned something about lube. He supposed that meant lubricant. Some alphas did use an oily ester with their betas, but they never bothered with females. Since he and Urazi did not have that sort of relationship, he had none on hand. And he had no idea what the other thing she mentioned was. Kiss?
Tara patted the platform next to her. “Sit down,” she ordered.
Her audacity rendered him speechless for a moment. “I do not take orders from you,” he said when he’d found his voice.
“Give it a rest, caveman, and sit down.”
“I do not know what a caveman is, but I doubt I am one.” He glared at her. Lust still burned, but he felt chastened. Not since he was a young alpha in his sire’s abode had he been treated in such a manner. He started to tell her so, but she pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor. He had not seen her naked since he’d first brought her home, and he stared. Her wounds had healed; even the thick scar from the old injury seemed to have faded. Her form was smooth and delicate, her breasts so round, her nipples erect. And those curls! He could not look away from the apex of her thighs.
“Please.” She patted the platform again.
He took a step toward the bed, but she slipped off it and tugged at the hem of his uniform shirt.
“What are you doing?” he frowned.
“Removing your clothes.”
“Why?”
“You don’t have sex with your clothes on, do you?”
“Yes.”
“You’re
kidding?” Her jaw dropped.
“Why would I disrobe? I only need…” He glanced down at his erection. Fluid seeped from the tip.
“As impressive as your cock is, I’d like to see the rest of you too.”
Bemused, he allowed her to pull his uniform over his head. At her urging, he removed his boots, and then she yanked his pants down his legs. “Commando. I should have guessed,” she muttered.
Nudity held no shame, yet without his uniform, Marlix felt exposed and vulnerable before this tiny but bold and aggressive female who did not hesitate to speak her mind.
She stood there, smiling with her eyes and her mouth, in a manner both direct and secretive. It caused a familiar tightening and ache in his groin and an unfamiliar twisting in his stomach. He remembered she’d mentioned a kiss. He presumed kissing was some sort of Terran depravity. Did one more really matter? He’d committed so many violations already.
Monto. The act of release had been perfunctory, if shameful, but she had complicated it further.
She thrust out one hip and cocked her head. “Don’t you want to touch me?”
He could have pointed out he had been about to touch her when she’d wrested away and demanded he strip naked, but the quiver in her wavering smile had him reaching out to wind a strand of pink hair around his finger. He settled the curl on her shoulder, and then traced a vine of flowers down her arm.
“I have never met anyone like you,” he said.
“Terran?”
“Colorful.” She lit up the starkness of his existence, painted the grays, the blacks, the whites to vivid hues like her hair, her eyes, her skin. He lived a life of harsh simplicity, actions and reactions defined. Expectations set and met. Certainty a certitude.
Yet she aroused questions, raised impossibilities, and caused him to yearn for things he should not want.
She sashayed up to him, rose on tiptoe, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He lowered his head. She closed her eyes and pressed her mouth to his.
Startled, Marlix froze, unable to make sense of her behavior or why it should cause heat to flood his body as if he suffered from a massive infection.
Tara pulled back and opened her eyes. “You have been with a woman before, haven’t you?”
She made it sound like an embarrassment if he had not, rather than the disgrace it was that he had. He stiffened. “I have used many women. Why would you say such a thing?”
“Then kiss me.”
“Pressing lips is kissing?”
“It involves some other stuff, but yeah.”
He hesitated, wary. “What other stuff?”
“Let’s lie on the bed.” Tara strode to the platform and stretched out in the center.
Marlix eased down next to her. She scooted close. “When I kiss you, open your mouth,” she commanded.
“Open my—”
Tara covered his lips with hers. She closed her eyes so that her lashes formed crescents on her cheeks. Marlix stared as the tip of her tongue stroked the outside of his mouth before slipping inside. Debauchery to be sure. Depraved. But…monto…so good… She surprised him again when her eyes sprang open, and he found himself drowning in a sea of green.
“You’re supposed to close your eyes,” she murmured against his mouth.
“Why?”
“It’s better that way. Trust me, okay?”
He could not and did not trust anyone except for Urazi, but her request seemed harmless. He had nothing to fear from her; he could overpower her.
He closed his eyes.
She kissed him again, and without the distracting visual, her touch electrified him. Her lips caused his to tingle.
He groaned.
She smiled against his mouth and pressed her body even tighter to his. Such softness for such a commanding creature. Under her tutelage, he learned how to kiss and found he could not get enough of her sweet taste. He plundered her mouth with increasing fervor. When he came up for air, she turned her head to the side, and he could not resist the curve of her neck. Perhaps one could kiss other parts besides the mouth? Tentatively, he sucked and nipped her creamy skin.
Tara moaned and arched her neck, an incitement to his lust.
Twice he tried to roll her over to take her, but both times she resisted. “I’m not ready yet.”
Ready for what? he wondered. But he was enjoying their game, so he did not force the issue.
She grabbed his hand and placed it between her legs. “Touch me, here,” she said.
He tangled his fingers in damp curls. “You’re wet!” He looked at her.
“Umm,” she murmured, unconcerned, and he surmised the moisture was a Terran response. Though shocked at first, he liked the way his fingers slipped and slid among her folds, so he plunged two fingers into her channel. A groan erupted from his throat as he encountered even more wetness. Her muscles contracted.
Monto! He imagined her grip around his manhood. He’d never taken a female there—it had never been required because he had not yet sought to produce a son.
Her muscles squeezed his fingers again. “You feel good,” she said, and he felt ridiculously pleased. “Now rub my clit,” she said.
“Your what?” He frowned.
“My clit.” She grabbed his hand and guided it to the anterior of her sex, to a small nub. “Like this.” Her hand moved his in slow circles.
He watched her face, saw pleasure in the way her features scrunched up. “That’s good. Keep doing that,” she said. He wasn’t sure, but she seemed to produce even more moisture the longer he rubbed.
Her eyes fluttered shut, but he preferred to keep his open so he could watch her face contort with satisfaction, though it caused his cock to ache more. When he penetrated her, he would ejaculate in seconds.
She removed her hand from his and closed it around his erection. Pleasure shot through him, and Marlix jerked; his hand froze. All focus centered on his erection. Throbbing. In her hand.
“Don’t stop,” she said.
He resumed with his massage of her sex as she pumped his. Her moans increased his arousal. His body shook with the need to use her, but he held off, awaited her instruction.
Marlix gritted his teeth as pressure built. He started to consider that perhaps she intended not to bring him pleasure but to torture him, when she unhanded his swollen member and urged him onto his back. He stared when she straddled his hips. She grabbed his tumescence again and guided it to her wet channel.
“You want to breed?” he gasped.
“No.” Pink hair flounced. “I can’t have children.” But then contrarily, she sank onto his manhood, and he could think of nothing but the tight, wet sheath enveloping him.
She massaged her clit as she raised and lowered herself on his manhood and incited a riot within his body. Her breasts, the nipples taut and hard, bounced with her movements, and though he’d never done such a thing before, he lifted his head and latched his mouth onto the right one. Her moan of encouragement caused his desire to spike.
“I’m going to come,” she said.
He sucked harder on her nipple, picturing her pierced by his insignia. He could be the sole Parseon to own a Terran.
“Marlix!” she cried out his name, and then her channel contracted around his erection, ripples squeezing him, and a dam inside him broke, and he thrust harder and faster, and groaned, snared in the jaws of ecstasy.
Chapter Seven
His cock still inside her, Tara collapsed on top of Marlix and buried her face in his neck. Beneath her, his chest heaved. Tara smiled. It had been easy to seduce him, though he’d caused her some consternation at first. However, the big baboon had come around. She’d flown by the seat of her pants with no specific plan but assumed she’d have more opportunity to escape if he trusted her enough to let down his guard.
It had gone much better than she’d anticipated. For such a domineering control-freak Neanderthal, he’d been accommodating. It appeared one could teach new tricks to an old Alpha. Not that he was ancien
t. How Parseon ages and Terran ones compared, she did not know, but he appeared to be about midthirties.
“You were good.” She stroked his ego but realized she spoke the truth. After a little tutoring, Marlix had turned into a decent lover. And he had a rockin’ bod.
“Good at what?” he asked.
Okay, work remained to be done. “Never mind,” she said.
His hands rested at his sides. He raised them, and she could sense his hesitation, his indecision, before they fell on her shoulders. He took a breath. Did he intend to push her away? Sex with Marlix had given her an advanced crash course on the cultural differences. Anal sex was the norm and occurred at the whim of males with no attention paid to a female’s needs. Alphas reserved vaginal intercourse for breeding. She had a strong hunch the female she’d heard earlier had been crying out in pain. Her stomach twisted. How awful. Females existed on the fringe of society, used—abused—by the males.
Which made Marlix’s accommodation all the more baffling.
He exhaled and smoothed his hands down her back. “Your skin is very soft.”
It sounded like a compliment. “Thank you,” she said and tightened her muscles to squeeze his cock, still half-hard and lodged inside her.
He sucked in his breath. “You did that on purpose,” he growled. Holy smokes, he had a sexy voice. If he were to talk dirty to her…but Tara guessed he didn’t know any sexy words. Hey, baby, want to breed? She stifled a snort of laughter and squeezed his cock again.
“You are teasing.”
He sounded so affronted, she did giggle then. If she had to get captured by an alien and had to sleep with him to secure her freedom, well, she could have gotten stuck with a worse kidnapper. Had he not abducted her, she would have no reservations about rolling around in the sheets with him.
“Yes,” she said in a pseudo-serious tone.
“Why?” Her mockery flew over his head.
“You make it impossible to resist.”
He fell silent for so long she lifted her head to peer at his face. Puzzlement had narrowed his eyes. She disengaged but stayed close and leaned on one elbow. “What is it?” she asked.
