LostwithLeo

by Shelley Munro

  Leo chuckled, the noise sudden, a little rusty, a little surprising. He helped her disrobe and tossed the garment on the floor. Then they were chest to chest, skin to skin.

  Betrys sighed as her breasts flattened against his pectoral muscles. Sharing the dreamscape with Leo had been one thing, but this…this was something extra.

  The room smelled of fragrant spices and flowers. A touch of herbs emanated from Leo, and the scent of the sleep-bed coverings brought to mind solar shine and fine days. Not a trace of the pungent market smoke. Leo’s touch seared her skin, leaving a wake of tingles as his hand drifted down her spine to settle on her bottom.

  His casual exploration of her breasts and hips made her bold, and she started an investigation of her own. She ran her fingers over his biceps and gloried in his swift intake when she pinched his nipple.

  “The men on Petros don’t have nipples. I’ve been wanting to touch them,” she confessed.

  He cocked his head, curiosity blooming for her to see. “Are there any other differences between Earth males and those from Petros?”

  “Our men aren’t as big here.” She ran light fingers across his muscled chest. “The Petros race are not warriors, which is why our neighbors defeated us with little effort.”

  “The Petros men are scrawny?”

  “They are slight of frame,” Betrys corrected with a frown. “Not weak. We are—were—a nation of inventors, and the dreamscape aided us in our field of expertise.”

  Ricci was already showing signs of following in the footsteps of his father in this respect. He pulled apart everything to see how it worked.

  “What is the purpose of nipples on a male?”

  Leo chuckled, his expression becoming more open. “They have no purpose. On some men they’re an erogenous zone. On me for example.” He grinned to display a set of sharp, white teeth. “I enjoy a woman touching me there.” He guided her fingers to one flat disc, his green eyes offering a silent dare.

  She stared, then blinked at his laugh. Who was this playful man? Emboldened by the lurking humor, she began to explore, paying attention to detail—his sculpted muscles, strong legs, broad shoulders, beautiful face. At every part she touched, she watched and learned him from his responses.

  A quick pinch, a drift of fingers, a firm press—he savored them all. She graduated to kisses and nibbles and his breathing deepened. She pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips for better access.

  “Ride me,” he said. “You want me. I can smell your need.”

  Betrys stilled.

  “Is that another difference between me and the men you used to know, Betrys? You only had sex in one position?”

  The sound of her name on his lips did something to her, caused waves of longing for a future she could never have. She’d loved Corrin with all her heart, and they’d experienced a good marriage by Petros standards. Yet she was discovering cultural differences that made her marriage seem lacking.

  The teasing, the smiles, the talking and now Leo was asking—no, telling—her to take what she needed, to take charge of their lovemaking.

  “Do you want me to tell you what to do? Or I could take over. Make you participate.” His silky voice held a distinct air of mockery.

  “I know the mechanics.”

  “So put them into practice, Betrys.”

  Each time he said her name he gave it two defined syllables, and he delivered it in a derisive tone. Half of her wanted to run while the other part of her wanted to stand up to his challenge in a very unPetros-like way.

  A capture fantasy, he’d suggested.

  Fine. Her turn to taunt and tease and deliver what he thought impossible. No restraints. No, that would remind him too much of Iseult—the last thing either of them needed. A reminder of the enemy who hovered in the room.

  Betrys took a deep breath, part of her noticing Leo’s avid gaze on her breasts as they rose and fell. She centered her mind and locked away the garbage from her past. Then she built a mental shield to imprison her fears of the future, and once this barrier was complete, she turned her attention on Leo. Such a pretty man, his exceptional looks highlighted whenever he smiled. The curve of his mouth lightened the green of his eyes and invited her to share in an answering grin.

  Sexy, sexy man.

  And he was hers to play with for this stolen moment.

  He blinked, angled his head a fraction. “You never smile.”

  “Neither do you.”

  “Touché. Are you going to do anything?”

  “Yes—at my own pace.”

  His smile widened and his muscles rippled when he shifted to a more comfortable position. “I’ll settle back and wait then. Don’t take too long because I might doze off.”

  Betrys pressed her lips together. Right. She’d show him. She placed her hand on his chest and scooted back until she straddled his upper thighs. His cock was long and hard and fascinating. A tremor shook her hand as she reached to touch, and a sound of amusement came from him. She ignored the rude male and started exploring. His body temperature seemed much higher than her people, and his shaft burned with heat when she wrapped her fingers around his girth.

  She moved her hand up and down and a groan escaped him. She allowed herself to glance up, shoot him a smile of confidence when she noticed he clutched the bedcovers.

  Feminine pique satisfied, she went back to appeasing her curiosity. His skin was soft and as she teased the head, a bead of moisture appeared at his slit. She wiped it away. Another drop of pre-cum appeared and she bent to lap it up. A muttered curse came from Leo, and on lifting her head, she met his gaze. Green, green eyes full of heat, and was that desire?

  Without breaking their connection, she closed her lips around his tip and explored with her tongue. She sucked and took more of him inside her mouth. His cock seemed to pulse and thicken and the beads of moisture appeared more often.

  Her discoveries had an effect on her too. Heat roared in swirls to settle in her quim. Wetness pooled between her thighs and she hummed around his cock. It had been so long and this was so much better than the dreamscape. This was real, with more of the scents and sounds and textures their shared dreams couldn’t duplicate.

  She lifted her head and released him. Seconds later, she was guiding him inside her with none of the awkwardness she’d imagined. His shaft stretched her to the point of pain and she rose a fraction before impaling herself again. Up and down, she moved. Up and down. Up and down. Each slide became easier, felt even better. She changed the angle of her rise and fall, seeking a fit to make her enjoyment bloom.

  “Yes,” Leo said, his voice guttural and unlike his normal tones.

  Her pulse spiked at his encouragement and she increased her tempo. The prickle of pleasure heightened. It started deep inside her when Leo’s cock hit the perfect spot during her downslide. A delicious tickle of heat that expanded until she gasped aloud, the velvet tension growing and growing and growing. Another push and the tantalizing slide up. She slid a finger over her clit, massaging the swollen nub, and filled herself with Leo’s cock again. The coil of energy in her lower abdomen expanded and she rubbed a little harder, a little faster, the bolts of pleasure coalescing into one big explosion.

  She sobbed out loud and wished the pleasurable sensations would go on forever since they were so, so good.

  The sensations drifted away, leaving the sexy buzz of satisfaction. Her eyes popped open—funny she hadn’t even remembered closing them—and she sought Leo’s gaze.

  “When is it my turn?” he asked.

  Betrys wanted to grin at his polite tone, but instead she sniffed. “You think you can do better, then show me your moves.”

  He moved so fast, she scarcely had time to blink before she found herself on her back, her legs splayed and Leo looming over her. “Is that a dare?”

  “Um…yes?” Betrys had no idea where this flirty self was coming from. This wasn’t her, but having sex with Leo wasn’t normal for her either.

  He gave he
r one of those grins that made her breath catch, and placed his cock at her entrance. He filled her with one thrust, and the friction of the hard slide awakened her desire. Another thrust stirred her nerve endings to a salute, and at the warm, wet suction of his mouth around the tip of one breast, she groaned. Arousal curled and spiraled low in her abdomen.

  “You’ve got moves,” she whispered.

  “I know, but you haven’t seen anything yet.” His grin stole her breath. The man was too handsome for his own good, even with the short hair.

  She clutched his shoulders as he paid attention to her other breast, the pull of his mouth and the wander of his hands fueling her desire. He thrust and withdrew, each stroke slow and purposeful. Her breathing became ragged, the clawing tension driving her to distraction. Leo trailed a line of kisses and nibbles down her neck. When he reached the base of her throat and the fleshy part of her upper shoulder, he let out a raw and guttural groan. His hips pistoned into her in increased speed, and his cock filled her to capacity.

  He was slamming into her now, and an intense burst of heat seared her. The familiar low pressure gathered, and seconds later she exploded with another climax.

  Her pleasured moan and the tiny spasms of her pussy around his shaft seemed to be the signal he was waiting for. He growled and she felt the splash of warmth deep in her pussy as he propelled into orgasm.

  For long moments, they clasped each other, heartbeats racing and the faint sheen of sweat coating their skin. Leo’s body became a heavy weight, and she squirmed in silent protest. He lifted off her and flopped onto his back. At her attempt to move, to go to clean up, his arm shot out. He grasped her arm and repositioned her against his side.

  “There’s no need to rush off,” he murmured. “It makes me feel cheap if my partner in crime wants to run off straight away.”

  “I wasn’t trying to run,” Betrys said, but she was lying, and she knew it. Their lovemaking had felt too close, too personal. Now she felt wrong-footed and unsure. An understatement. She was desperate to regroup because she had to think of some way of getting Iseult another man before the weekend.

  Chapter Eight

  Betrys forced herself to relax, and she must’ve done a decent job of it because Leo’s breathing deepened. Despite being tired herself, her brain wouldn’t stop jogging around her problems.

  What was she going to do? If she were honest, there was one option open to her. She knew it, she kept coming back to it, even as her mind rejected the choice. She needed to find Iseult her next lover, and she couldn’t take one of the men who worked in the resort because of the family vibe.

  Leo—despite the odds—had managed to survive and had suffered enough.

  She had to figure out some other way.

  Leo turned onto his side, and she took the opportunity to escape. She snatched up the green robe and tiptoed until she was safely outside.

  If only she could take her son and disappear, but Iseult was too clever for her, always one step ahead. She never let Betrys go out alone with Ricci. There was no chance for real quality time because her interactions with her son were monitored.

  She walked over to a broken wall and sat on the cold stone. An intense longing to see her son and hold him filled her, the wave of pain so sharp she almost cried out. Instead, she screwed her eyes shut and swallowed hard. Crying wouldn’t help.

  “Mother?”

  Now she was cracking up—her mind imagining her son’s presence. Impossible since he was at Spiderus Mansion on Dalcon.

  “Mother, why are you crying?”

  Betrys blinked to clear her vision. “Ricci? Ricci, what are you doing here? How did you get here?”

  Her son’s somber face creased into a frown. He glanced to his left and his right. “I don’t know. Where are we?”

  “We’re on the planet Tiraq,” she said, her mind racing. She could take Ricci and leave. It would mean leaving her nest egg, but that was a small price to pay. “What have you been doing since I left?”

  “Iseult is grumpy. She made me stay in my room.” He frowned again. “Iseult doesn’t look very well. She’s not pretty anymore.”

  A sliver of panic struck Betrys. “She hasn’t hurt you?”

  “No, I obeyed her orders like you told me to.”

  Betrys wrapped her arms around her son and fought to act normal despite her lack of understanding. “Good boy,” she murmured against his straight brown hair.

  “Mother, you’re holding me too tight.”

  “I’m sorry, son.” Betrys forced herself to relax her grip on Ricci.

  “I’m hungry,” her son said. “Do you have any food?”

  They needed to go now, before Leo woke. She doubted the man would help them, not after what she’d done. She peered into the darkness. With no idea of their location and no food, she couldn’t just leave. It was too dangerous, which left her no better off than she’d been before.

  The door to the old cottage opened, and Leo stood in the illumination that spilled outside. “Betrys? Betrys, where are you? It’s dangerous out here, woman.”

  “Who’s he?” Ricci whispered. “He looks awful grouchy.”

  The overloud whisper carried on the night air, and Leo’s gaze settled on them, hard and implacable.

  “Who’s the kid and where did he come from?” Leo asked.

  “This is my son, Ricci.”

  Another dreamscape. It had to be. Somehow, she’d fallen asleep and hadn’t realized. Maybe stress was getting to her. Maybe Leo wouldn’t remember or he’d think the dream was crazy or maybe…

  No, that wouldn’t work. One of the things she enjoyed about him was his intelligence.

  “Your son?” Leo stalked closer, and Betrys glared at him.

  “Put on some clothes.”

  Leo glanced down and blinked, as if surprised by his nakedness. “Come inside,” he said, his tone less belligerent. “It’s cold out here and the boy will catch a chill.”

  Betrys gave a curt nod, and Leo acknowledged her agreement by turning and striding back inside.

  “Who is that, Mother?”

  “That’s Leo Mitchell. He’s a…ah…a friend,” she decided. “We have food inside, maybe even some of your favorites.”

  “Do you think there will be sweets?”

  She held out her hand, and her son clasped her fingers and followed her into the old stone building. Outside the dwelling appeared dilapidated and uninhabitable while the interior was a direct contrast of stylish comfort. She wondered if the Mitchells had done this on purpose and decided they had. It made a perfect getaway.

  “Would you like a hot drink?” Leo asked.

  He was making it for her? She nodded in dumb shock and watched him make a pot of the tea, the drink a lot of the resort guests drank. She’d never drunk the beverage until her visit to Ione Island.

  “What about your son?”

  “I want to drink what you’re having,” Ricci piped up.

  Betrys frowned. “Will it hurt him?”

  “No, my brothers and sister and I all drank tea from an early age. I’ll make some ham and cheese sandwiches too.”

  Now Betrys stared harder. “You’re doing women’s work.”

  “Preparing food isn’t a woman’s job,” Leo said, his hands busy as he spoke. “Who said it was? I’m hungry and enjoy eating. My mother taught all of us to cook. I’m a better cook than my sister.”

  “What’s a sandwich?” Ricci asked. “Mother, is that an alien food?”

  “On Petros the women make food.” Betrys placed her hand on her son’s shoulder in a request for silence. “Our tasks are—were—distinct and defined so everyone knew their place.”

  “Not on Earth. Women undertake lots of jobs that used to be the male domain.”

  “I want to learn how to cook.” Ricci’s face was earnest as he stared at Leo—now wearing a green robe.

  “What’s your name?” Leo asked.

  “My name is Ricci,” her son said.

  Leo shot her a l
ook then studied her son. “Where do you live?”

  “Spiderus Mansion.” Ricci moved closer to Leo. “It’s good there but I don’t see Mother very much.”

  Leo cast her another quick glance, this one considering, and she could almost see his mind shuffling the facts Ricci had innocently leaked.

  “Ricci, don’t get in Leo’s way.” She spoke before he started to ask questions.

  “He’s not in the way.”

  “What is this stuff?” Ricci asked, his chatter and curiosity providing a barrier between her and Leo’s questions.

  “That’s bread,” Leo said. “You can help me make the sandwiches.”

  Betrys stood back and let Leo guide Ricci in the making of what Leo called toasted sandwiches. She’d never heard of them either, but Leo grabbed her attention as he interacted with her son. He didn’t talk down to Ricci, didn’t growl at him when her son became too enthusiastic and dropped fillings on the floor, didn’t treat him as the enemy.

  Leo handed her tea in a beautiful cup that sat on a matching saucer. “Go and sit. Relax. Ricci and I have this under control.”

  She found herself accepting the beverage and retreating—a sort of out-of-body experience.

  “I thought you would enjoy interacting with your son,” a masculine voice said.

  Betrys started, her cup rattling on its saucer as she whirled to face the stranger. A tiny squeak escaped her before she registered the man’s non-threatening manner.

  “Don’t worry. This is our host,” Leo said. “He and his people are incorporeal and own the village.” Leo went back to his task, his voice low while he spoke with her son.

  “I’m sorry I scared you.” The well-dressed man sprawled in a chair. Black trews encased his legs and he wore a frilly white shirt. He reminded her of a sexually satiated male with his relaxed demeanor and his sleepy-eyed gaze. “I mean you no harm.”

  “Incorporeal?”

  “Yes.” His grin was languid and satisfied. “Your lovemaking with Leo tasted rather piquant. You have fed us well.”

  “Pardon?” She knew she was gaping but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “I don’t understand.”