by Elsa Jade
And now she had him.
Earthers identified the pathways as scars or tattoos, he’d discovered. That was as good an explanation as any. But no one had ever looked at him as closely as Lun-mei was doing right now.
Her brow furrowed in concentration, she followed the silver lines downward. His blood all but flamed in his veins, his nerves inscribing the caress permanently into the archives of his memory. The pathways flickered under her touch, the nanites galvanizing in response to her proximity.
They couldn’t see her as a threat. The only danger was if she left him now.
A slowly rising dread curdled his desire. It wasn’t just his sensory perceptions and memory files. And his primordial lust. All his long-dormant systems were coming online, in ready mode and standing by to imprint on his new master.
“Lun-mei, stop.” In his alarm, he grabbed both her wrists, holding her too tightly.
Despite his fumbling roughness as he struggled to control the cascading changes in his programming, she didn’t recoil. “It’s all right,” she soothed. “We can stop.”
All the warning claxons in his systems were imperceptible outside his body, but they nearly shut him down. She didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. He couldn’t stop, not once the final claiming had begun.
“I should’ve told you,” he whispered. He had told her. And then he erased those memories to keep himself and the remains of his matrix safe. Being discovered would blow up the small sanctuary he’d carved out on this unnoticed, unimportant world.
And Lun-mei would have an alien slave she never wanted.
To his horror, she slipped off his thighs—the satiny drag of her skin amplifying the danger signals in his blood—and stretched out beside him to lay her head on his shoulder. The sweet perfume and tickle of her hair brushed over him, and every place their bodies touched, he burned and shivered.
“It’s okay, Mach. You’re okay.” She rested her hand on his torso, right above one of the few places where anything larger than a blaster shot would end him. How did she know? Under her palm, his nanites flooded across his skin, not to defend him but to offer themselves to her.
His chest heaved, but no breath entered. Was this what dying was? After more than a century, the cowardly half-cyborg killer would be destroyed by a gentle touch.
She lifted her hand higher, skimming the edge of his clenched jaw. With barely an erg of pressure, she turned his face to hers. “Don’t worry. If you don’t want to do this, we won’t.”
That wasn’t how imprinting worked. His jaw tightened harder on the words he couldn’t tell her. Finally he gritted out a halting, “I can’t stop.”
“Well, we can go slower if you like. Or try again later.” Her smile was tremulous. “Takes two for this particular tango.”
In the translation of war language from this area of his accidentally adopted world where he called himself Alpha, a Tango was an enemy combatant. Betrayal sleeted through him, more bitter than the flavorings she’d requested at the brewery to spike her drink. She did know what he was. How had she discovered his unit? Had she pretended not to know before just to mock him? She could’ve claimed him at any time and commandeered his programming for herself.
But even as he raged inwardly, his understanding of her reasserted itself. Whether or not she knew what he was, she wouldn’t use him like that. She wasn’t like that.
Also, a tango was a dance, he suddenly remembered. He’d thought about dancing with her to the music at the bar.
Here there was no sound but the rasp of his anguished breath as he stared down at her, torn between conflicting needs.
“Why do you want this?” His nanites seethed and swarmed without direction. “Why do you want me? Like this?” His angry gesture down his body force space between them.
But she didn’t look away from his eyes. “Because you’re sweet and sexy. And sort of funny, even though it seems like you don’t realize it. Because I’m lonely too and I like you. Because we don’t really fit together very well, but that’s fine because I’ve never really fit anywhere very well and you still wanted to have coffee with me.” She nibbled at the corner of her mouth, distorting the curve of her lips which he was just starting to know, outside and in. “But if all you want is coffee together, that’s fine too. Because you make damn good coffee.”
The furious clench of his fist eased. He had invited her for coffee first. That had been his choice, even if his nanites and programming were now goading him toward a permanent connection.
“I want more than coffee,” he said at last.
Her lips curved. “You want donuts too, right?”
“Yes. And kisses.” Conviction flowed through him again, and he rolled with it. Nudging her to her back, he lifted himself over her. Holding himself suspended above her, he hadn’t felt so out of control since his ship had fallen to Earth—or so free. “And you.”
Chapter 10
Lun-mei had invited Mach back to her place for all the reasons she told him—and to just have a night of fun. But she’d known it would be more than that.
It had been obvious from the start that Mach was the kind of guy who would go all in, not because his size and looks made it impossible for him to be subtle but because that was the kind of guy he was. Once he made a choice, he’d stick to it, no matter what.
Of course she found that wildly attractive. Maybe they didn’t fit together physically, but in all the ways that mattered they were a good match. Even the size of his penis—admittedly, thinking of logistics had given her cause to have second thoughts before he took his pants off, considering the rest of the size of him—was perfect for her.
Whatever biochemical quirk triggered his gigantism (she refused to believe that he was a steroid user) had left him on the smaller side in terms of physical endowments below the belt. But she was small down there too, so.
Still, she did understand why he’d been reluctant to tell her and why he almost chickened out. No doubt a society that lionized aggressive masculinity would look askance at his micropenis.
But as he crouched over her, gravity and lust were her friends, and his thickened flesh filled her palm nicely.
It would fill her pussy even better.
She lifted her head to kiss him hard with all the eager delight coursing through her, and he responded with a groan. The sound rippled through her with glorious abandon, and he’d never seemed so loose and easy as this moment. But she could understand. She was feeling pretty wanton herself.
With a growl of her own, she nipped a short line down the column of his throat.
He reared back. “Lun-mei.” He sounded a little scandalized.
She centered a sweeter kiss on his chest, just above his heart. They could work their way up to something wilder when he was ready. The thud of his heartbeat banged against her lips, as she smirked, maybe a little too smug at her power over him.
He snaked one arm under the small of her back and hauled her up against his chest to kiss her deeply, thoroughly, utterly. Oh, he had so much power over her too, and while he might not have much experience, he was a quick learner.
The insistent nudge of his small but sturdy erection at her navel was like he’d toggled her overdrive button. She laced her arms behind his neck, holding him tight as their tongues tangled and their lips swelled at the delicious friction.
When their mouths finally parted with a moist pop, he stared down at her. In the light through the window, his silvery eyes were practically incandescent. His arm unfurled from behind her, dropping her to the mattress with a thud. “You make me shiver inside,” he said in a husky voice. “I don’t know what to do about it.”
She winked at him. “Let me show you.”
With a sensuous wriggle, she squirmed down the bed underneath him, anchoring herself on his husky hips.
Craning his neck, he peered down at her past his pectorals. “What are you—?”
He threw back his head with a gasp of pleasure when she wrapped her lips around his c
ock. No waiting, no adjusting, no psyching herself up, she took him all the way in, her lips pressed to his groin, the flat of her tongue stroking him. The blunter head of his erection nudged toward the back of her throat but didn’t gag her even when his hips bucked and his cock swelled tighter with pleasure as his body clenched. The needy sounds that ripped from his throat were enough to get her wet. Damn, he made her feel like a hero.
She curled her tongue all the way around him, lashing him with lollipop sucks until she tasted the first whisper of his sweet-salty musk, exotic as a papaya in this rugged, mountainous land.
His orgasm, when it struck, was every bit as explosive as she might’ve guessed. His roar of release blasted through her little apartment, would probably echo for days, and when she gave him an approving moan against his flesh, he spurted again.
Even as his whole body trembled, he remained stiff-armed above her, a mighty core-clenching plank worthy of the manliest Special Ops warrior or greatest yoga master ever.
He looked down at her with her face between his legs, and his eyes widened almost comically. And then his thick arms buckled.
He managed not to crush her, rolling to the side at the last moment and dragging her with him so that she ended up on top. Lying on top of him was like the warmest, firmest waterbed, perfect for a Montana autumn night. He wrapped his arms around her, and she’d seen how exquisitely controlled he was with his own musculature so she knew he meant it when he held her tight. “Lun-mei,” he rasped. “That was…”
Well, he used his muscles but he didn’t always use his words. She craned her head back to look up at him with a grin. “Yeah, I’m pretty awesome.”
He met her gaze with no hint of his smile. “You are.”
Her own humor faded into something deeper, maybe a little scary in a way she hadn’t believed possible with someone she invited to her bed. But she’d known he was different. With a mental shrug, she laid her cheek on his chest, delighting in the way his breath hitched as he notched his grasp a bit tighter before he finally relaxed.
With one fingertip, he traced a line down her spine, and she twitched against him. “Other parts of me are ticklish too,” she warned.
With a powerful heave, he rolled them over so he was on top. He stared down at her. Ah, there was that smile. “It’s my turn to be awesome,” he told her.
She spread her arms—and her legs—to both sides, shimmying her hips to draw his gaze. “Show me what ya got, big boy.”
His lips twisted to one side. “I may not be experienced, but I do know that I am not a big boy all over.” His gaze on her was serious. “But I learned long ago that every mission objective has multiple approach vectors and opportunities for victory.”
She nodded with equal seriousness. “May I suggest that your angles be many and varied?”
“With your guidance.” He scooted slowly down her body, flicking his tongue against his upper lip with such a gleam of challenge in his eyes that her pussy clenched in lascivious anticipation.
“We’ve got all the time in the world,” she murmured. “Or at least tonight.”
“There’s not much of you, but I’ll make the most of it.” With the widest grin she’d ever seen on him, he dropped his head between her legs.
He went after her the same way she’d gone after him, all in, with tongue and lips and the vibrating hum of his own ravenous sounds. She should have taught him something of subtlety. Next time. This time was too good. And too fast, but as she’d told him it had been a long time.
As the towering waves of pleasure began building in her like summer thunderheads, she grabbed his hands and dragged them up her body to cup her breasts. He made a muffled noise of understanding against her wispy black curls and feathered his fingers across her sensitive skin. What she lacked in lush curves for a man’s pleasure, she made up for in nerve endings for her own. When he rubbed a tight circle around the stiff peaks, tingling currents of need rushed through her, desperate to find a way out.
Wordless with wanting, she bucked her hips up into his mouth, and he delved deeper until she thought he must’ve surely reached his limit. But like most of the rest of him, his tongue was big and long, and she drove her nails down into his shoulders, coming half off the mattress in the first tightening of her orgasm.
He peered up at her between her bent knees, squeezing the swollen nubs of her nipples with exquisitely calibrated pleasure-pain, and as his silvery eyes narrowed, she knew that in his military parlance, she had just become mission-critical.
He closed his eyes and dove in, all in.
She would’ve screamed her pleasure as the orgasm seized her as powerfully as Mach himself, but the breath was trapped in her body. Every muscle seized with the strongest orgasm of her life, and the incandescent release roared through her veins.
When the pleasure reached the very tips of her extremities—even of her hair, she swore—with nowhere else to go, the waves collapsed back inward toward her core at the precise moment that Mac took a delicate bite at her clit.
She jackknifed around him, clamping her knees over his shoulders and her thighs around his head, holding him tight against the burning, blissful throb.
She hoped he didn’t need to breathe anytime soon.
Unlike him, her strength wasn’t limitless. With one aching drag of her breath, all her bones went limp and she collapsed back to the bed.
She inhaled again, a shuddering breath tinted with the flavor of him and the sea salt musk of her own satisfaction.
His eyes were half closed, almost sleepy, unusual for him, but she didn’t blame him after all his hard work. “Am I awesome too?”
“Nah,” she drawled. When his eyes flashed wide in alarm, she grinned. “You were unbelieeeeeevable.”
She reached down to tuck her hands under his armpits and hauled him up. Of course she couldn’t actually have moved him if he hadn’t wanted to come, but he crept up beside her, laying his head on her shoulder as she’d done with him.
Maybe he was just mimicking her, but the need for comfort and closeness implied in the gesture made her heart ache. There was something about a big man cuddling that made her want to protect him from whatever cruelties in his past had made him afraid to ask for love.
Love?
She’d been stroking his shoulder idly, tracing a faint raised ridge as if from an old scar, but she stilled as the word reverberated silently in her mind, almost as unlikely as dragons.
For some reason, both words made her suddenly restless. Unlike dragons, of course love existed. Sometimes, somewhere, for some people. Her parents had found it, so she had proof. But to her it seemed…yeah, unbelievable. Maybe because she’d been trying to set herself apart for so long, the idea of not being alone was as fantastical as giant flying reptiles.
She’d never been one to fuck and flee, but Mach was a very big guy, and her rented bed was not. She wasn’t going to kick him out, but maybe she needed a little breathing room here. She bent her head to kiss his temple. “Would you like a glass of water or something?”
“I need nothing,” he mumbled. “Not anymore.”
Despite her sudden inexplicable nerves, she smiled. He really was so sweet and sexy, practically innocent. “Well, I need one. I’ll be right back.
He made an indistinct grumble of protest as she extricated her arm from underneath his heavy head, but he nestled right back into her pillows. Bed hog—she should have guessed.
She padded naked to the bathroom to pee, feeling a momentary jealousy for a guy with any size dick who didn’t have to worry about urinary tract infections after sex. After she cleaned up and gargled, she lingered a bit longer until she had to admit that hiding in the bathroom was almost as bad as running away.
Staying on the far side of the screen that blocked her bed from view, she slipped into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water from the sink and drank deep. She peeked around the screen, feeling as ridiculously skittish as Hayate.
Sprawled in her bed, fast asleep,
Mach was even bigger than when he was awake, if that were even possible. And she realized just how much he worked to not take up too much space. The opposite of her, when she’d always struggled as a petite Asian woman to be seen and heard and acknowledged. Funny how both of them had ended up here at the same time. Well, okay, ending up in the same bed had been her idea. Her best idea since ignoring her family and applying to veterinary school, if she did say so herself.
Watching him sleep, her attack of nerves faded into something like wonder. He was so imposing and beautiful and elemental, his body at rest, the silvery scars on his skin shining faintly, as if the snow-streaked mountains had crashed down on her bed. Her whole damn bed.
Smiling in anticipation of showing him just how useful any size erection could be (and she had a party pack of condoms in an array of sizes and flavors) she stalked across the little distance separating them. Until a sharp jolt of pain jabbed up her heel.
With a hiss of annoyance, she hopped sideways on one foot. She’d stepped over his hastily discarded jeans and landed on something. Next to the gaping pocket of his way-too-big jeans, a glint caught her eye. Thinking one of them had picked up broken glass on the bottom of their boots, she bent down to clean up the mess, but as she carefully picked up the first glittering shard, the perfectly honed edge told her what she was holding. A diamond.
It was a diamond that had tumbled out of his pocket. A bunch of diamonds, actually. She picked up all the little glittering stones strewn across her cheap rental carpet. Nothing larger than a carat or so, but she found a dozen of them.
Rolling them lightly in her palm, she tilted her hand toward the light from the window. While she didn’t know much about diamonds, they were clearly gemstone quality, cut for settings. She closed her fingers over them in a tight grip, and though they weren’t jagged glass at all, the edges seemed to drive sharply in her skin. Just when she thought her sudden attack of nerves was ridiculous.
