by Stella Cassy
“You should be no further ahead of me than at my side when we are outside of chambers.”
“Why?” she asked. Her lips puckered and a crease formed between her eyebrows.
“It’s expected in the presence of others as a sign of respect.”
“The end of the tour.” I pointed to room at the end of the corridor. Females of any race were always drawn to similar things.
She waited for me to join her. “May I?”
I gestured her ahead. She ran up to the door, looked in and then back at me, her eyes round as if she were afraid. I walked over to her and stopped behind her.
“Oh...” She stood as if transfixed, her hand splayed over her chest. “A nursery.”
“The incubation chamber.” I peered into the chamber. Some of the hatchlings under the bright lights peeked from their shells for the first time, while others had broken completely free. They seemed intact with no imminent signs of hatching for many solars but then they just burst out as if they had been playing in the nursery. “My niece lives in here as much as they will allow it when she visits.”
“They are so cute.” She sighed. “I could just eat them up.”
“Some species do that but certainly not Drakonians.”
“Lehar, I didn’t mean it literally.” She clasped her hands in front of her and rocked back on her heels. A delightful laugh came from her lips. “Who could eat an adorable baby?”
“Some do.” I looked behind me. The corridor was still clear. “Do not use my name.”
“Okay then, Commander.”
Three of the whelps turned in her direction, and she bounced in place and laughed again. I stayed quiet while she thrilled at their every move, hoping she would make that sound again.
My dragon shifted at the thought of a whelp created with my blood. A pang of jealousy surged through me as I thought of my niece and the way Tarion strutted around with her in his arms after she was born. “It is past time for your nourishment, human.”
Her laughter stopped and a near frown settled on her face. “Lara.”
I would not call her by her intimate name as she wished, but she had eliminated the only other appropriate titles. I did not care what she called me. Commander or Hielsrane, both were appropriate and sources of pride.
We both stepped toward the door.
Her arm brushed against mine, causing my right wing to flutter up behind her. I retracted it before her head turned to see what brushed her firm buttocks. That never happened with a female. Why did I have less control around her? She was exposing vulnerability I never knew I had. Was that why Tarion was First Commander and not I? My awareness of the problem was all that was needed to rein in my wandering attention, especially if I wanted to retain my position.
I gestured for her to proceed me, then I took the lead with her a half step behind.
7
Lara
Fireworks
He stopped in the middle of the hallway. “Take your nutrition in my room.” He stood wide legged, those wings folded part of the way, showing off his stuff again. There was double the difference in bulk between his legs.
His wings shuffled behind him, then folded away behind his back. Was that a proposition? I usually could recognize one with a man but with a Drakon? What would I wish I had done when I got home?
Since he still clearly thought of me as his slave, was there really a choice?
“No,” I said and tacked on a, “thank you, though.” The problem was that prickle between my legs. It was misplaced gratitude, whatever patients felt toward their doctors or psychiatrists. Or was it the result of prolonged abstinence? It had been too long since anything other than the contents of my treasure trunk, my own fingers, and the jets in my soaking tub had been in my private area as my nanna used to call anything below the waist.
Transference: wasn’t that what my psychiatrist from all those years ago had called my crush on him, while he stared at my chest and butt?
He moved past me and I caught his wrist. I was only able to get my hand around a third of it. He wasn’t going to force me or even sulk. Some of the men I’d encountered didn’t take rejection so easily.
I found myself drawn toward the Drakonian alien with his burgundy hair so dark it looked black. I raised my hand to touch it but dropped it again. I hated it when people did that to me. Strangers who had seen me on screen for years, who thought they had the right, thought they knew me.
He stared at my hand, huffed his hot breath on it. What would it be like to kiss a Drakonian alien of the Hielsrane line? I was pretty sure I was about to find out.
“I changed my mind. May I eat with you?” I asked. “But I’d like a shower first.”
He nodded. “Is that a human custom?”
“We’ve been walking for quite a while.”
“Eat first, bathe afterward,” he said with a leer. Or was that just me and my hormones?
The dark alien who had been in the bridge came toward us. He glanced at me, then turned to Lehar and said, “I have a scenario to run by you —”
“Dashel.” Lehar raised his hand. “It will keep until another solar.”
“Commander.” Dashel glanced at me again, then nodded. He touched a black square on his belt and spoke into it.
My face heated but I didn’t feel embarrassed for long because Dashel strode down the hall without another word. I hadn’t misread the vibes. I was going to Lehar’s room to do more than eat food.
He continued walking and that time I followed. When we got closer to my room, I was two feet behind him. He bypassed my room, stopped at the end of the hall, and then opened the door.
His room was a replica of mine except twice as big. He tapped the screen on the wall by the doorway and a compartment opened with two trays. He set them on the end of the bed and began eating. I sat beside him and ate every one of the tiny spicy cubes and octagons of tart bites. They tasted like a combination of every fruit and vegetable I’d ever had except blander. I squeezed one of the pouches in my mouth. It tasted like the green veggie smoothie my housekeeper left for me every morning without any fruit juice. He watched from the other side of the bed.
“What are shea butter, jojoba and coconut oil? My member of female crew said you were looking for ointments.”
“They’re plant extracts for my hair and skin. It’s kind of dry and cold in here.”
The female alien spies had reported everything I said. Women had helped me navigate the acting world, given me the best tips and warnings about who to avoid, but apparently, I couldn’t trust the women here. I wouldn’t get much help from the males either since they wouldn’t talk to me.
“From whom did the Pax procure you?”
“Those criminals kidnapped me from my home.” Was my wine glass still at the bottom of the pool? Was the patio door unlocked? The cube dropped from my fingers back onto the tray. “I’m full.”
“It is their way.” He picked up the few cubes left on my tray and ate them.
“Will you take this off me?” I twisted the collar around my neck. “Please.”
“No, it is inappropriate. You are not Hielsrane or Drakonian,” he said. “If your neck is bare, it will confuse my crew.”
If I couldn’t get him to take this thing off my neck, how was I going to broach the subject of going home? My eyes stung. “I need to shower.”
I slid off the bed and went to the door. When I turned around to thank him again, he was standing right behind me, breathing his smoky breath in my face.
“Shower here for me, my... human.” He encircled my throat with his big hand. He licked my lips. The collar beeped. He held it front of my face.
I touched my bare neck and smiled. Then that sensation in my private area came back. Stronger. “This is going to be really good research for my movie.”
“Movie? The word does not translate.” He drew me back in the room and I sat on the bed with his thigh touching mine. “Explain.”
“I’m an actress, an entertainer.” H
e continued to look puzzled. It seemed frivolous even before I started explaining it. “I pretend to be other people or beings to entertain them. Most people, humans, know of me on my planet.” On Earth. Oh my God. I wasn’t on Earth.
“My cousin has a human mate, Carissa Maeberry. Do you know her?”
Another human. “No. Where is she?” I grabbed his arm. She would know how to get us home. She had to have heard of me. I was going home, maybe in time to slip back into my pre-shoot ritual. “Entertainment is popular on Earth. Is it out here?” What would an alien movie be like? Probably nothing like my script.
His face clouded. “Entertainment, yes, but it is dangerous. Our entertainers perform in interplanetary galaxy games. They are popular in this sector, where you lose limb, life or both.”
It sounded like medieval times back home. Where I was going soon. “It’s not like that on earth anymore, neither is slavery—legalized slavery.”
“It is part of our world, has always been.”
“So, you’ve bought slaves before.”
“No, you are my first.”
“We’ve already established that you didn’t buy me.” I poked his chest.
“No, better. I won you.” He smiled and pushed out his chest.
“Correction, you helped free me. You weren’t among the ones bidding.”
“I could easily have done so, but to win you is much sweeter.” He stretched one of my curls down to my chest. “All that is irrelevant, as you are mine now.”
I opened my mouth to deny it, but the no didn’t get past my lips. It didn’t matter what he thought. Soon, I could be back home performing my ritual, getting used to another director or one of my costars, wondering if I would have to sidestep advances at the risk of being blacklisted.
No one should have taken me in the first place. I thought about those creatures clamoring to get at me and shuddered. I wished I had some of that champagne in my refrigerator. I had to get back home.
“Thank you for getting me out of there,” I said.
He stared at my mouth. His breath hallowed out the fabric between my breasts, emphasizing my nipples that were making themselves known despite the strapless bra I wore.
Maybe Nicky was right; a break in my pre-shoot ritual was good. I wouldn’t have chosen this set up, but what was wrong with a little misplaced gratitude as long as I kept it in perspective? I was going back home.
His mouth sank onto mine and he thrust his tongue deep into my mouth. It flitted the roof of my mouth, my cheeks and wrapped around my tongue and squeezed. He drew my tongue into his mouth. It was like sticking my tongue into warm hot chocolate with a splash of Godiva liqueur, just warm enough on a cold day to trickle warmth down to my toes. Just sweet enough to satisfy my sweet tooth with a dash of spirits to ignite my latent libido.
He traced a hand down my jaw, breaking the kiss and tilting my head to the side to nip and kiss my neck, each step bringing us closer to the bed. With one arm wrapped tightly around me, he pulled me in for a deep kiss as he gently pressed me back against the bed.
Settling onto the bed, he broke the kiss, tugging my bottom lip with sharp teeth and causing a shiver to run through me. When he pulled back, the coolness of the room rushed into my mouth, and before I could think, he pulled my dress over my head, exposing my breasts.
I looked up into his dark oval eyes framed with thick, long lashes. I thought they were completely black, but they were every shade of burgundy. Though beautiful, his eyes were unnerving and brought me back to reality.
I’d kissed a dragon alien.
God, was he going to change into a dragon at some point? What if he incinerated me by accident like he had done those aliens?
I pulled away. “Are you going to turn into the… The other you?”
He didn’t say anything for a second. Like it was a possibility. Like he was thinking, well, yeah, that might happen. “I am in full control of my dragon.”
Dragon. He said it. There was no denying it. That was what this guy was: a freaking dragon.
Before I could question him further, he stood and dropped his pants.
God, it went past where his navel would have been if he had one. No navel, okay. They were pretty useless anyway. What he did have was something straight out of the exclusive sex-toy store Nicky raved about.
I couldn’t take all of that and I had seen an above average man before. Oh crap, what if his private area shot fire?
Lost in my own thoughts, I gasped when he cupped both my breasts. A low groan left his lips as he twisted and tugged each nipple lightly, pressing me back onto the bed. He ducked his head and tentatively flicked his tongue against my nipple, causing me to arch against him. As his teeth nipped against my skin, I grasped his arm as his hand spread across my ribcage and made a slow descent to my belly button, which he circled, then pressed lightly on my pelvic bone.
As he kissed his way up my neck, he placed his whole hand over my sex, and with his other hand he tapped his index finger firmly just above my clit. His eyes stayed with mine the entire time as if he was gauging my reaction. He didn’t say a word, but I could almost hear the question: did that feel good or bad?
He didn’t want to hurt me.
He continued tapping downward until he hit the right spot. I breathed out a sigh and shifted my hips against his hand. He tapped it again, then circled it lightly, his eyes never leaving mine. He flicked his thumb across it, increasing and varying the pressure.
I closed my eyes and lifted my hips. How the heck did he know to do that? Female alien anatomy must be similar to humans. They did have two arms, legs, eyes, and ears although bigger and odder.
His fingers moved down, circled and sunk deep. He dipped one finger, added another, and then brought them to his lips and sucked. He closed his eyes and licked his fingers, his dark eyes never leaving mine. He dipped three fingers in, and I clenched my muscles around them involuntarily, but he withdrew them immediately.
Why did he stop?
My heart thumped against my ribcage. I rose up on my elbows. That was definitely fun, and he had a light touch, knew how to work those fingers without getting too heavy handed with those dangerous nails, but what he was holding between those big hands was another matter entirely.
I drew my legs up and clamped my knees together as he leaned over me. His cock rubbed against me, sending shivers down my spine.
“Go slow—”
He captured my foot and pulled me back down to the end of the bed. “I will not damage my small human.”
Damage—his property? Why did he use that word?
He kissed my lips softly like I was more than some stolen artifact he didn’t want damaged, Deepening the kiss, he spread my legs further apart and pushed against my opening lightly and then did some twisting and rocking motion with just the tip, if you could call it that. It was a dome with concentric circles. The shaft had vertical grooves. It didn’t look real. Even up close, it really looked like it should be under hard plastic on a shelf with a label stating that this treasure required a box of batteries to operate for more than a minute.
I was in a movie, starring in a role I thought I’d never audition or be cast for: alien porn star. Because that’s how he made me feel. He made me feel off brand, the opposite of every role I ever played in public and private.
“You are mine.”
No, no one owned me.
“My Lara Abernathy.”
His, yeah, right. I could be that for the night. If he had used the S word, I might have had the strength to roll away. He sank deeper, stretching me wider, his half twists and quick, short pumps grazing nerve endings with those ridges and groves against my smoothness. He stimulated me enough to forget about his translation inaccuracies or intentions. I gripped his shoulder, my nails sinking into his skin.
Maybe, I was in some fugue state or weird dream. I didn’t know or care. I laid back. God, let whatever this is last a little longer.
Eyes shut tight, I twisted my head right, then l
eft as he made tiny movements in a semi-circle, a vertical downward tug, a full slow revolution, then another vertical tug down.
“Lehar…””
He looked up, paused, then moved in and out of me, slower.
Do that move again. Like he’d heard me, he did it again and again. I screamed.
He started pumping in and out, grunting. He threw his head back and held my feet up in his big hands as his climax shuddered through him.
I didn’t scream or swear. It was in my fucking contract.
Was I playing a part? I was not the Lara Abernathy that night and I wasn’t dreaming. A dream couldn’t possibly feel that good.
8
Lehar
About Last Night
Before I opened my eyes, my dragon grumbled, stirring my phallus between my human’s legs and her soft hands fluttered over it. I buried my nose in her hair and lifted her higher, already throbbing to enter her. I had held back last night, although not enough. When I first laid hands and mouth on her, I did not know if she would accept my touch, and if she did, in my nest, she would be warrior or slave. Her responses and tentative hands, which grew bolder by the micron, were a mix of the fledgling and experienced. Perhaps that was part of the appeal and mystique of the human female throughout the verse, which garnered such fat profits for top traders like the Pax.
I drew her closer and she molded against me as if she had been burrowing in my nest for longer than one solar. Squeezing my length between her legs, her soft moans hardened me further. My phallus twitched to dip into her warm sweetness. I did not expect her to want more for at least another lunar. Without opening my eyes, I shifted her higher and prepared to enter her. I massaged the spot between her legs that ignited her human fire and made her more receptive to penetration.
I ran my fingers under my nose and inhaled her fragrance, before putting them in my mouth. It had been more than twice the length of time since I had joined with a female. A lunar’s session was usually enough to sate me for many solars.
