She stared off into the distance, losing the sparkle in her eyes.
He drew her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “You miss him, don’t you?”
She nodded against his chest. “Even though you tried to save him, he still died. I...I lost my mom, too.”
“I’m so sorry.” He held her close, his desire taking a back seat to his need to console her. Through her quiet sobs, he rocked her gently. No words could ever bring her parents back. All he could provide was comfort, an open ear. Himself.
Ro’sa leaned away from Deion’s tear-soaked shirt. She refused to be mad at him any longer. He’d been the one to follow her on Minjet, concerned. He’d tried to save her father and was at her side now, though she couldn’t look up at him, embarrassed by her blubbering. She picked at the thin material, tugging it from his chest. “I’m sorry. You probably think I’m weak.”
He lifted her chin, ensuring she had to stare into his mesmerizing blue eyes. “Not at all. They were your parents. They deserve your mourning.”
When he cupped her cheek, she leaned into his palm. How had she been lucky enough to find a man like Deion to spend the rest of her life with? She could have easily been married off to the prince of Mindu and used only as a vessel to produce his offspring. Or she could have been one of many wives to a member of royalty from any of a large number of interplanetary species who didn’t believe in monogamy. The prince could even have been like Cyrus, though she shoved that thought aside, not wanting to think ill of the dead. No, her father had chosen well. If only she’d known the truth about Deion and interacted with him as her betrothed when they’d first met.
Ro’sa pressed her palm to his chest, feeling for a bandage. He couldn’t have healed so quickly, could he? “Are you okay? Should you still be resting?”
Moving his hands to her hips, he held her tight. “Probably, but I only want to be here with you. Nothing else matters.”
The intensity of his gaze grew stronger, leaving her struggling to catch her breath. She fought the urge to run as she had on Minjet, no longer needing to feel guilty about wanting him. He was hers, and she his.
She slipped her fingers under his shirt, craving a closer connection. “Do you have a scar from your bravery?” Anything to see and touch more of him.
Stepping back, he crossed his arms and gripped the bottom hem. “I’m not sure.”
Ro’sa didn’t miss the wince of pain as he lifted his top off, but Deion brushed it away, returning his focus to her.
He grabbed her hand, placing it back on his body. “You tell me.”
With a whimper, she ran her fingers along his pecs and abs. Nothing. Not a trace of any injury. Perfection. If not for his grip on her wrists, she would have fallen to the ground, her leg muscles weak from touching his chiseled chest. “You’re beautiful.”
He smiled, the twinkle in his eyes as bright as his teeth. “I’m the dirt on the ground compared to you. You’re more gorgeous than I’d ever fantasized, and I want you so badly right now.”
Her cheeks warmed, the sensation zinging to other parts of her body as well, concentrating between her legs. “Yes.” If she paused to say anything else, she might lose her mind.
The space between his brows scrunched together. “Yes, I’m dirt on the ground? Or yes, as in you want me, too?”
“You. I want you.” If she didn’t combust first, left helpless by the burning need blazing through her. She craved his kisses, wanted him to touch her there again. A warm breeze caressed her bare skin.
Deion dropped her wrists and placed one hand on the small of her back. The other he used to cup the back of her neck. His breath warmed her lips and his piercing blue eyes, reminded her of the waters back home. He was familiar and new rolled into one. Exotic and comfortable. Deion rained kisses along her neck to her collarbone, then to the swell of her breasts, feeding her burning desire. Not love. Not yet. More like a want unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. A basic need she required to survive. How had she lived all her life without him?
With one precise flick, he removed the top of her aba. She drew in a quick breath, her nerve endings on edge. Her clit throbbed, yearning for his touch, his teasing. When he sucked a nipple into his mouth, Ro’sa cried out in glorious pleasure. Her toes curled, and she thrust her chest forward, longing for him to take more.
Instead, he stopped and clasped her shoulders. “Hang on a minute.” He dug into the pack his brother left behind. With a whoop of glee, he turned toward her, blanket in hand. He spread it out at her feet then scooped her into his arms. “Can’t have you lying in the dirt this time.”
How sweet of him to see to her comfort. He kneeled to lay her on the softness, then slipped off his bottoms.
Ro’sa shuddered. Though Ka’lyn had told her all about the male penis and how much pleasure it could bring, she’d failed to mention what happened before penetration. Would Deion just stick it in? Or would he spellbind her with his kisses so she didn’t feel him slip inside? She doubted the first. He’d never caused her any pain before, yet Ka’lyn swore Ro’sa wouldn’t be able to avoid some slight pain when her prince took her virginity.
Deion lay beside her, propping his head on his hand. With one finger, he traced a path between her breasts, all the way down her belly. “You know, I really am the luckiest guy in the universe.”
“Even after you were shot trying to save my father?” She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d fled without her when the Mindues had arrived.
“Especially after that. I survived to be with you.” He cupped her breast, circling his thumb around her puckered nipple.
Sweet torment. She had no idea what to do, what he expected as he tortured her body with pleasure. Snuggling closer, he pressed his palm to her stomach. He kissed her shoulder. Such a gentle touch, but enough to set her skin ablaze. Ever so gently, he walked his fingers under what was left of her aba, stretching the material. Between her legs, through her folds, he found her pleasure button, stroking it as he had on Minjet.
Ro’sa clenched the blanket with both hands and thrust her hips. This time she wouldn’t run. This time, she wanted more.
Deion alternated slow circles with fast strokes, driving her wild. Heat balled in her belly as he worked his erotic magic through her. She reached down and slipped off the last of her clothing, removing the final barrier between them. Ro’sa was ready to bond with her betrothed and unite their planets forever.
Shifting over her, he captured her mouth, feeding her hunger. He slipped one finger inside her then added a second, in and out, stroking her in a place reserved only for him. Electric tension zinged through her. She rocked against him, under him, driven by the age-old rhythm.
He ran his thumb across her sensitive nub, lighting her up like a firecracker. She pulled away from his lips, releasing a cry of ecstasy. The rapture came in waves, barreling though her like a fierce storm. She gripped Deion’s arms until the ripples subsided. Her muscles relaxed, and she struggled to catch her breath.
Her prince gazed at her, brushing the damp hair from her forehead. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, more concerned with his erection pressing into her belly than the most euphoric sensation she had ever experienced. Reaching between them, she carefully guided the tip of his penis to her opening. “It’s time.” She’d never felt so sure of anything. After so many years, she no longer had any reason to wait.
Deion shifted, leaning down to her ear. “I will love you forever.” His full lips found hers, and he kissed her passionately as he sank inside her.
With the tearing of her virgin tissue, she whimpered and swallowed down the sting.
Deion lifted his head, cupping the side of her face. He ran his thumb along her cheekbone. “If this is too painful, let me know. If you want me to stop, just say so.”
“I’m fine.” She drew him back down, ignoring the pinch for the sake of pleasure.
He rocked in and out, his gaze focused on her. She clung to him, drawn in
deeper to the hypnotic dance of their joining. Her mind whirled, and she joined him in their sexual rhythm.
His movements became frantic, his breathing harsh and uneven. With a sudden arch, he thrust once more and cried out her name, spilling his warm seed inside her.
When he pulled out, she felt like a part of her soul had been removed, too, but he rolled onto his side, wrapping his arm around her. “Come here, my love.”
With a sigh, she snuggled in close to him. Deion. Her prince.
Epilogue
One year later....
From the balcony, Deion stared across the land, astounded by all of the changes since Ro’sa had arrived on Earth. Using minerals sent with her from Minjet, she had showed his people how to clean the water, making it drinkable again. Vegetation flourished in landscapes once barren. Herds of animals thrived, allowed to graze in open fields for the first time since he was born, providing his people with food. Everyone had returned to their homes, the threat of a Mindu attack long behind them.
But the best change of all was the modifications made all through the kingdom for the population boom about to happen. Deion had used old books with pictures of playgrounds from the before time to draw up plans, and with the help of carpenters, welders, and other tradespeople, he’d crafted a recreation area for the youth throughout the land. A large area for all to play, including his own future child.
He snuggled against Ro’sa’s back and placed his hands on her growing belly. “Very active today?”
His wife leaned back on his chest. “Not as much as last night when I was trying to sleep.”
Deion chuckled. He’d felt a few jabs when he’d cuddled with Ro’sa in bed. “Well, feel free to have a nap this afternoon, but, right now, we’re expected for a uni-conference.”
She spun around, her belly knocking him back. “Really? It’s good news, I hope.”
Already aware of who waited to talk to them, he grasped her hand, anxious to surprise his wife. “Let’s go find out.”
Inside the library, they waited to be connected to the space server. Eventually, the Confederacy’s symbol appeared, followed by a current view of the planet Ro’sa had left behind. She gasped when a smiling woman appeared on-screen. “Ka’lyn? How are you?”
Ro’sa squeezed his hand, waiting for the message to travel through and receive her response. “That’s my best friend.”
“I know.” He’d worked hard to learn as much as possible about the state of Minjet, whether anyone, including the planet, had survived. Ro’sa had never asked, committed to their life together and helping Earth recover, but during quiet moments, he saw her reflection, her sadness.
“Good. Very good.” Ka’lyn stood and rubbed her belly. “Looks like we’re both expecting.”
Ro’sa shrieked with excitement in a way that only women did. “Congratulations! But is Ry’der going to stay home to raise your child since you’re commander?”
“Oh, I’m not commander anymore.” Ka’lyn returned to her seat. “My only mission was to get you off the planet. I was more like your secret guard. Heck, they didn’t even tell me who the real prince was. I had to find out from Rog.” She rolled her eyes. “But now, with you and your parents gone, it was decided our planet should become a democracy like the Confederacy. No need for me to be commander anyway.”
“Oh.” Ro’sa grew quiet, losing the excitement she’d had when she first saw her longtime friend.
Deion placed a hand over hers. “You okay?”
She nodded, wiping her cheek. “Yes, I just never expected...I mean, I thought if I didn’t contact anyone from Minjet, I could pretend they were still alive, that nothing had changed except my absence.”
“I’m so sorry, Ro’sa.” Ka’lyn switched the screen behind her to show two tall spires in the middle of what look like a town square that hadn’t been there when he’d visited the planet. “We gave them a proper send off to the stars. Just like they’d wanted. But I had these commissioned as well. To remember their sacrifice.”
Ro’sa sniffled. “Thank you. Looks like Minjet is recovering well.”
“Yes, all has returned to the peace we once had, since the Confederacy grounded all Mindu ships. If they fly one wing beyond their atmosphere, they are shot down.”
Ro’sa raised her eyebrows. “I’m surprised they’re being so strict, but it will stop them from attacking again. How’s Ry’der doing?”
“Very good, as always.” Ka’lyn winked.
As the conversation grew more personal, Deion stood up. He kissed the top of Ro’sa’s head then left the room to prepare for the celebration of the anniversary of her arrival, and their everlasting union.
~A Letter from Jessica E. Subject~
Dear Reader,
I absolutely love fairy tales! I always dreamed about a handsome prince coming to rescue me on his noble steed. But as I grew older and more fascinated with space, the prince I imagined came from another planet and arrived on Earth in a spaceship. Okay, so maybe he resembled a certain superhero in red and blue tights. ;)
Anyway, when Decadent announced this new line, I was really excited to write an alien fairy tale, but I worried about the Grimm tale I would be assigned to base my story on. Luckily, The Star Money is very short, so I had a lot of room for interpretation.
Arranged marriage is a practice that still happens today in some cultures, and was an aspect I’ve always wanted to include in one of my stories. But, imagine being betrothed to someone from another planet, one whose culture you knew barely anything about, a culture you would be thrust into when you left your home to be with him. I know I would have a hard time. While it would be fascinating to visit another planet, leaving everything I know behind would leave me extremely home sick and possibly lonely.
But that’s not the only problem Princess Ro’sa must deal with. Instead of falling in love with the prince she is to wed, she is smitten with his aide.
I do hope you enjoy reading The Star Princess.
Wishing you all the very best!
Jessica
[email protected]
Beyond Fairytales
www.decadentpublishing.com
Don’t Call Me Iron Man by N. D. Wylders
Chapter One
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Groaning, Ivan rolled into an upright position. His ears rang to the steady beat of water hitting porcelain. Under him, a firm mattress cradled his body, while his head felt as if some sadistic bastard had let loose an evil anvil-pounding imp bent on driving him insane. Exactly how much did I drink? His mouth was drier than the Sahara in August. He pressed the heels of his hands against his achy temples. Dear Lord, he’d give anything to make it stop.
A low hiss escaped his parted lips as the leaky faucet continued to drip. The sound tortured his ears, even as it offered the possibility of relief to his parched tongue and throat. Attempting to stand, he swayed on his weakened knees. He thrust his arm out to brace himself. A grimace crossed his face at the cold, slimy surface under his palm. It took some effort, but he managed to open his eyes. At first he saw nothing but shadows then the blurred lines of gray took shape. A slow turn of his aching head revealed the rest of the barren, cave-like room. He was surrounded by rock walls. There were no windows. Not even an obvious door. Nothing save a coarsely made cot against one wall, dirt-strewn floors, and in one corner, a stand with a chipped bowl placed beneath a leaky pipe.
“What the fuck?” He gritted his teeth as the room spun once then righted itself. “Goddamn, what did you put in my beer, old man?” He tried to remember how he’d gotten here in this little cell, or whatever the hell they wanted to call it. His last recollection was…paying some crazy little gnome with a blue tarantula to tell him a goddamned fairytale. Had the spider bitten him? Or maybe it had been the gnome who’d drugged him.
“Great. Either I drank too much, or a three-and-a-half-foot gnome kidnapped me.”
But even as he attempted to decide which was the more likely, the water c
ontinued to torment him.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Unable to ignore his needs any longer, he staggered over to the stand with the help of the wall. He fell to his knees in front of it. Lifting the basin with hands that shook, he spilled half of the precious liquid down the front of his polo shirt before getting more than a swallow or two into his mouth. The water soothed his tongue, but had an odd taste similar to well water. It didn’t stop him though as he gulped at the cool essence until there was no more. With the worst of his thirst sated, he placed the bowl back under the pipe and waited for it to fill again.
By the time he’d drunk a second time, the evil anvil man had disappeared, only to leave a vague achiness in his wake. Now without his head pounding, maybe he could figure out why the hell he was in a cell. The probability of the gnome kidnapping him was illogical. The man wouldn’t have had the strength to move a man his size. Perhaps it was Shamus or Dante playing another one of their practical jokes? If so, he would kick their asses the next time he saw them. But first he needed to get out—well, as soon as he was a bit steadier on his feet. He rested a few more minutes with his head and shoulders pressed back against the stone. After a while, he noticed there was recessed lighting in the ceiling.
“Lights? If there are lights, there has to be electricity, and if there’s electricity, there has to be a way out of this room.”
He struggled to his feet. He touched every crevice in the walls he could reach until his fingernails caught on the edge of a concealed compartment. Crouching, he tugged on it, but it refused to give. In a dim hope whoever had locked him up hadn’t searched him, he patted the front right pocket of his pants. He touched the familiar outlines of his Swiss Army knife and Zippo lighter. Thankful for the oversight, he fished out his multi-tool.
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