by Gemma Voss
“Wait, lemme look at you.” I grab his forearms and haul him out of the shaded area. “You’re… you’re red-blooded aren’t you! It’s true, what they said?”
He grins, running his hands up my arms and bending over me, daring me to look even closer. His black eyes sparkle as they roam my face. “And what did they say, Ella?”
“That you think I’m your mate.” I tremble under his gaze, which seems to pierce right through me. He’s entirely changed— stone come to life right before my eyes.
His fingers brush up along my neck and then to my cheek.
“Think it? I know it. I am yours if you will only let me be. Then I will make you mine, and claim you like my body demands.”
His words fluster, arouse, and frighten me all at one. My chest feels like it’s filling with liquid warmth from the way he stares in my eyes when he speaks. I might be making an incredibly stupid decision, but I can’t bring myself to turn him away.
Chapter 10
Kila
Ella has allowed me into her living quarters, under the condition that I will contact Pakka and let him know that I am safe here with her. It will only cause him further panic, but there is no real harm when he is stuck at the complex.
Yesterday, I felt just as much fear and frustration as he does now, but that is all behind me. In Ella’s presence, I feel things that I never have before. Only good and wonderful things.
She seems nervous as we step through her door, requesting that I do not “judge” her, but I am not sure what she means. The scent of her is thick here, a pleasant combination of freshly washed fabric and distinctly feminine musk. Her space is not well-organized at all, but I do not mind it. Various articles of clothing are draped over the couch, which she rushes to remove while I look around. Pictures hang on the wall of indistinguishable blobs of color (“Abstract art,” she says), and the couch that dominates the sitting area is an elegant shade of mauve.
“Are you hungry?” she asks once I am done gawking at her belongings and asking her questions about their purposes. It amuses me that many of them do not have a purpose at all, such as the tiny bronze table by the doorway that simply collects piles of paper.
“Yes,” I admit.
“I can cook us something,” she offers. “Any preferences?”
“I would not know,” I say. “I have enjoyed most things we have eaten so far here. They are packed with much more flavor than the typical rations at home.”
“Rations? Even on the home planet?” she says. She begins pulling ingredients from cabinets and the cold storage box. I sit at her bar so that I can watch her as she prepares to cook.
“Always rations,” I say. “Feeding the soldiers can make things difficult and strain the resources. The Alliance supplements us with their own rations sourced from distant systems.”
“And you have always been a soldier?”
I nod. She lays out a wooden board and pulls out a massive knife. “If you had that when I took you by surprise, surely I would be dead,” I muse.
She grins wickedly, brandishing the sharp silver blade. The way her face lights up causes my chest to tighten. “Ah, but I use my cutting powers for good,” she says and applies her blade speedily to a white bulb vegetable.
“I know we do not know much of one another, but I have learned quickly that you are only good,” I tell her. She becomes shy again, like she did when we were close together in the hallway. She averts her eyes and hides her smile, chopping away on her board.
“Will you tell me about your life?” I ask her since she has quieted down.
“There isn’t much to tell,” she says, turning away to arrange pots on her cook top. “Before the Occupation, all I did was work. I only went to college for a year because my mother was sick and we had bills to pay. I was working as a waitress and all of a sudden this alien invasion goes down. But to me, it was a godsend. My mother got treatment, and I found this job at the facility. This is my hometown here. I didn’t even have to move away from my family.”
“What is it like, having a family unit? We do not have this on our planet, although I see it in many other places.” There are some words she says that I do not understand, but it sounds like she is content with life.
When she glances back at me, I see she is sad but I am not sure why. She has one pot of water getting hot and one skillet with a mixture of sauces and chopped veggies.
“I can’t imagine life without it,” she says. “It’s a comfort to know you always have someone on your side, ready to support you if you’re struggling. Ever since I can remember they have been there for me, my mother and brother. When my mom was sick, it really made me appreciate the time we have together, because I was so close to losing her.”
“I understand. Such loss is difficult,” I agree.
“You lost someone?” she asks softly.
“Certainly. We are always at war. I lost my first command unit. I am the only one still living from that group.”
“I’m so sorry,” she says, setting down her chopping knife.
“Why do you apologize? Earth has nothing to do with the Sector 5 war, and therefore their deaths are entirely unrelated to you.”
“It’s just a way that humans let each other know that they empathize with someone who is mourning,” she explains. Her head is tilted to the side as she surveys my face, her pretty lips turned down.
“Ah.” I shrug. “We do not mourn on Kar’Kal.”
I’ve made her uncomfortable; I can tell immediately. Her fingers flex before she moves to grab her knife again. “Ella, I am sorry—”
“No, no, I’m fine,” she says, rubbing at the corner of her eye. “It’s just so different from Earth, that’s all. I am no one to judge. I just don’t understand it.”
I hop down from my seat and round the bar to stand beside her. I dare to rest my hand on the middle of her back, and she leans into it, sneaking a look up at me. “There is phrase we learn very early as Kar’Kali warriors. An emotion will not solve problems. To me, it was always this: Anger will not complete this mission. Anger will not solve this problem. Anger will not kill your enemies.”
Her eyes widen and water up as she listens.
“Anger will not make them live again,” I say quietly. I do not tell her the terrible things I did after they had gone from this world. I do not tell her because I am a coward, and if she knows this she will surely never want my attentions. Anger will not take back my failures.
“Do you want to know what a human would say?” she asks.
“I want to know what Ella would say,” I reply instead.
“It’s okay to be angry. It’s healthy to mourn. If you never let yourself be upset, you will never get through it,” she says, and presses her body against me. Her arms wind around me, and her head rests against my chest. I’m warm all over from this simple contact, and then she squeezes me with gentle pressure.
Her laughter vibrates against me. “Haven’t you ever been hugged before?”
“No,” I admit.
“You’re supposed to hug back,” she says. I encircle her small frame in my arms. She is so tiny, I am afraid squeezing her will be uncomfortable. Nevertheless, I pull her just slightly closer against me.
“Mm,” she hums. “We’ll work on that. Good start. A for effort.”
We stay like that for a moment, chest to chest, my head bent to rest on top of hers. The prospect of pulling away is unthinkable. From here, everything is clear, and I know the risk in coming to see her was merited, if only for this ‘hug’ alone.
Chapter 11
Ella
I am enjoying my time with my repressed alien stalker far too much.
Thanks to a few minutes in the aliens’ microwave box earlier, I am certain that my biology is normal and that the magical Kar’Kali fuck-spirit isn’t making me hormonal. That said, I can’t deny my attraction to Kila. And ooooh boy, does he seem to be affected by the Kali’Ka.
Except, instead of him turning into a wild caveman rea
dy to pin me down as the other scientists would have me believe, he’s turned into a sweet, earnest, and dare I say it—flirtatious guy. His smiles light up his face, changing everything. I’ve always thought him to be handsome, but the stone-like skin and his brooding expressions tended to make him more like a perfectly carved statue, cold and unreal. Now, he is warm and receptive, listening to my stories and telling his own.
I’ve had my fair share of boyfriends, and you might even say I’m easy. I prefer to call it experience. But no one has caught my attention quite like Kila has. It gives me very bad ideas, ideas about poisoning his innocent, robotic little mind with dirty human thoughts. Ideas like—God, I’d love to see his face when he’s inside a woman for the first time in his existence. I have serious whiplash from how fast he’s become utterly devoted to me. The problem is… I’m not sure accepting an invitation to be someone’s breeding mate is such a good idea. I mean, I’m no stranger to finding a man at my door with his mind on one thing and one thing only, but at least with exes and fuckboys I know what I’m signing up for when I let them inside.
After I teach him what a hug is, we go on talking together while I cook. The topic thankfully turns to lighter topics, like his first impressions of Earth and my story of starting work at the facility. He enthusiastically consumes two thirds of a pound of the pasta bolognese I made for him, and then proceeds to suggest that we “hug lying down.” The man thinks he invented cuddling.
So, now, because I’m a pushover, we are entwined on my couch, chatting about nothing and everything. I have never felt more comfortable than I do leaning into him. He cradles me and nestles his nose against my head, sending delicate tingles down my spine.
“Cuddling,” he repeats the word I gave him for what we are doing, his accent turning D’s into T’s. “I like this very much.”
“Kila…”
“Yes?” He leans his head back against the arm of the couch so that I can shift to face him.
“When I spoke with you just yesterday, you said it would be best if you continued to avoid me, and yet here you are. What changed?” I ask.
He tenses up. “The mating call became stronger,” is all he says.
“I know that. It’s just… What’s your plan? Did you come here trying to have sex with me? And if that’s what you’re trying to do, then what are you going to do when it’s over?”
“Over?” He shakes his head. “Unless my suppressor chip is repaired, there will be no over. A breeding mate is made for lifespans. I am aware of some species who have mating calls that only endure until there is offspring, but that is not the way of the Archaic Kar’Kali. Once it begins, it goes on until the mating pair has gone to ashes.”
“I’ll say it again then… What is your plan, Kila?”
He presses his face into my hair, hiding his expression from me. “For the first time in many passings, I do not have one. I only need to be around you, to see you safe and happy, and touch you. That is all my body is telling me to do.”
“And on Monday? If they tell you they can fix the chip, what will you say?” I ask him.
“These are difficult questions. Am I being tested?”
“Yes! Look, I’m trying to be the reasonable one right now. I’d love to throw caution to the wind and start showing you just how fun ‘mating’ can be… but I’m worried that you’ll regret it, hate me for it, get in serious trouble with Pakka and the others…” I turn his face so that I can see him. His lips are worried into a frown, and I know my instincts are correct. There’s guilt here, guilt and conflict.
“You are wise, Ella,” he sighs, hanging his head. “I was driven to find you by my wild lust and need, but I promise you that now we are together I feel it is enough just to be near you. It is helping, keeping the insanity at bay. There is no need to mate, no need to put us in a situation that may cause more problems.”
“Hey,” I whisper, picking up his chin. Those black eyes gaze at me with such intensity. “I didn’t mean to bring you down. It’s okay. We’ll just hang out.”
“I was too busy planning my escape to think ahead,” he admits. “A classic tactical blunder.”
In that moment, he looks so vulnerable. I want to take him into my arms and protect him in this apartment forever. I want to hide him away from everyone who ever told him he’s not allowed to feel what he needs to feel.
And then, because I’m a horrible person with no self-control, I lean forward and kiss him. It’s a soft and chaste peck that lasts for only a moment, but it feels wonderful. When I pull away, he appears shocked.
“What is this?” he asks, lifting a finger to touch his own lips.
I can’t help but laugh. “It’s a kiss, silly.”
His eyes light with acknowledgment. “Ah, yes. I have read about them in reference to a few cultures. I should have known. This kiss appears in all the most basic descriptions of human mating practices,” he states. “I can’t say I understand why it is a method for increasing sexual excitement bec—”
I cover his mouth with mine and press against him gently, letting him grow accustomed to the feeling. His arms snake around me, trapping me close. I tilt my head and break for a moment, to open my eyes and see his face. He swirls with both surprise and utter bliss. I can’t get enough of this fascinating man. His reactions thrill me. A simple kiss is new to him. My stomach flutters just watching him process it.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I couldn’t help it. We should probably stop. Maybe we should just… watch a movie. Have you ever seen an Earth movie?”
His grip tightens. “Just one more kiss,” he says, a coy smile appearing. “Then we’ll do as you say.”
I guess it’s a universal truth—every male life form is ready to bargain for any favor he can get. I chuckle.
“Okay,” I agree. I kiss him, again starting slow and chaste. But soon, I’m ready for more, opening my lips to slip my tongue into his mouth. He opens for me, with a groan of surprise. I sweep my tongue across his, tasting something bittersweet. I wasn’t expecting it, but it’s not unpleasant so I go on exploring his mouth, teasing him with my tongue.
My tongue begins to tingle with warmth, and the feeling spreads over me, skittering down the back of my neck, and all the way to my center. My lips slacken, and he takes control of our kiss. He dives between my lips hungrily, mimicking what I did to him, slicking more of that bittersweet flavor through my mouth. A sensation takes hold of me, like molten metal has replaced the blood in my veins. I am hot all over, and the feeling in every nerve seems to multiply. I feel it between my legs, and I moan into his lips. The sound eggs him on, and we kiss in a hurried daze. Suddenly, every slide of his tongue over mine feels like a shock of pleasure that electrifies every part of me.
I pull away, gasping for air. My thighs clench together. “Oh my God,” I say. “What just happened?”
“Did I do it wrong?” he asks with a brief flicker of concern. Then, his eyes widen. He snaps his hand to his mouth. “Ella—Oh, what have I done?”
“You didn’t do anything, I don’t think. I just feel so…” I trail off, my eyes drawn to his crotch. I need him. I need him now. It doesn’t matter what happens afterwards. He’s here, isn’t he? Why not enjoy myself?
“My tongue,” he says.
“Yes, it’s surprisingly talented for a first-time kisser,” I say, climbing into his lap. “It makes me wonder what else it can do.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m trying to tell you my tongue is secreting the aphrodisiac. I believe I’ve just given it to you,” he explains, attempting to extricate himself from me. He stands up and backs a few steps from the couch. “I didn’t know. Or I forgot. I didn’t realize… Please forgive me, Ella.”
I’m hot all over and I’m only vaguely aware that kissing him may have been a mistake. Oops. That realization is being pushed to the back of my mind, though. Because currently, at the front of my mind, is the flood of moisture between my legs, and the burning need to get my hands on K
ila.
He watches me from feet away with apprehension, tensing up like I’m a rabid dog about to bite him.
“Forgive you?” I say, sitting up on my knees on the couch. “I’ll forgive you if you come back over here and keep kissing me.”
“This is all my fault,” he groans. “I shouldn’t have come here. Pakka was right. I’m unpredictable. I’m a danger to you. I should have known from the moment I woke up and—”
I am ripping my sweater off. It’s far too hot inside this damn apartment. I feel like I’m suffocating. “You should tell me what happened this morning,” I say, suddenly very certain I know exactly what happened. “I want to hear the rest of that story…”
“Ella, no!” he protests, but I see his eyes start to grow, the black circles widening at the sight of my exposed skin and cleavage. “Put your clothing back on. I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“I’d like to see what you’ll do,” I say, recklessly trying to tempt the beast.
“Maybe I should leave before it gets too bad,” he suggests, turning his head and using his hand as a blinder shield. “I have no idea how long the effects will last.”
He is looking away, so I decide it wouldn’t be too reckless to give in to the overwhelming need to touch myself. The arousal that’s building is not the delicate tingle of desire that I am accustomed to. It’s a full-on throb between my legs, demanding to be relieved. I press my fingers over the seam of my pants and roll my hips. I moan, letting my eyes flutter shut. Even the lightest pressure feels amazing.
“Oh, no, no,” I say. When I look up again, he’s staring, transfixed. “If you leave me like this, I swear I’ll find someone else to help me.”
The eyes become blacker still, widening so that the whites are merely slivers at the edge of his irises. What was I thinking just a second ago? About not being reckless?
“You don’t like that idea, do you?” I taunt him, rubbing myself over my pants again.
