It wasn’t exactly an apology, but I made an effort at sounding friendlier this time. He dropped his head down, seemingly relaxing, too.
“We live underground on Keala,” he continued, calmly. “Your planet is of no interest to us. Your Sun hurts our eyes and burns our skin. Earth’s crust is too thin and volatile, and the mantel is too soft and hot to accommodate our cities. Just like Ricread said, we came here for you. Well, the research team, sent by The Science Group, came here to find a solution for our race by the potential of using human procreation with Kealans. As you pointed out on the way here, breeding two different species is a challenge. But Ricread has high hopes for progress with this idea of his.”
“Has he had many other ideas?”
“Quite a few. You are the first human who had been identified as a match. But there were numerous other attempts to perpetuate our race—DNA splicing, cloning, artificial insemination. All have failed.”
“So, this here is truly their, I mean, your last hope?”
He shrugged. His expression of indifference in contrast to Ricread’s passionate conviction on the subject spiked my curiosity.
“What do you personally think about all of this?”
He turned to face me fully, giving me another opportunity to study his features while he considered my question.
Despite his otherworldly appearance, I didn’t find looking at him unpleasant.
Tairan’s face was proportional and symmetrical, his strong features giving him a powerful expression even when relaxed. His whole body exuded power and strength. My gaze strayed to his thick, corded neck and wide shoulders, then to his biceps, which bulged as he leaned forward to prop his elbows on his thighs.
I didn’t venture to examine him lower than that, raising my gaze back to this face instead.
“My opinion doesn’t matter,” he said.
“It matters to me,” I protested. “I want to know what you think about having to marry me.”
He shook his head. “The marriage is simply a façade. I hope you understand that.”
“I do.”
“Good.”
He went silent again, making me realize he was not going to share his personal thoughts about the situation we both found ourselves in.
“Tell me more about Keala then,” I said, giving up. “Do you live in underground caves?”
“Our cities are built inside the large tunnels created by one of the indigenous life forms, ure worms,” he replied, somewhat mechanically.
“Must be some big-ass worms, to fit a whole city in the tunnels dug by them.” I smiled, for the first time today.
“Huge,” he agreed, not quite returning my smile, but his expression had definitely lightened a bit. “They have to be, in order to grind through the hard mantle of Keala. No matter how far our technology has advanced, we are still unable to produce tools similar in power and efficiency to the jaws of ure worms.”
“It’s nice of them to help you out then.” I kept my tone light, encouraged by him growing more talkative now.
“There is nothing nice about ure worms.” He huffed a small laugh. “They dig, searching for food, and love coming back to eat whatever life form takes over their tunnels in their absence.”
“So, the ancient aliens that stole your ancestors from Earth just dumped you in that uninhabitable environment and left you there to battle the giant worms for survival?”
“Not exactly.” He shifted on the bed, his features growing more animated, and I congratulated myself for stumbling on a topic of some interest to him. “Nothing can survive on the surface of Keala. However, life has existed in some form in the mantle of the planet for a very long time. The ancient race had terraformed the rock of the planet, to make the underground space more habitable for the early humans. They also provided the air-filtration equipment that regulates the oxygen content in the atmosphere inside the tunnels. After that, yes, they pretty much left us on our own.”
“Why?”
“We must have been some form of an experiment for them, too. There is evidence of their interference in our biological makeup—the alien DNA spliced with that of the early humans’, like Ricread mentioned. But no one really knows the ultimate purpose of starting our race. With them gone, we probably will never know.”
I stared at him again, wondering which visual differences between us could have resulted from the alien DNA in their blood and which from the evolution in different environments.
“With the advance of technology and the discoveries that made interstellar travel possible for us, we ventured to rise to the surface of our planet,” Tairan continued. “We have several spacecraft launch platforms that are raised from underground during the two hours in the day when the surface temperature is actually bearable—one in the evening, a little after sunset, and one in the morning, at sunrise.”
I tried to envision what life on Keala would be like.
“Tell me about your cities? How many do you have?”
“Just one now. Atar. But we used to have six, back when there was enough population to sustain them all. Our cities are much larger than yours, though. Much more densely populated, too. Simply because we don’t have the luxury of space as you have here, living on the surface. All six cities were also located close to each other, occupying a relatively small portion of the planet, for practical reasons and for security.”
“Security? Do you have many enemies there?”
“Some, the main ones being those big-ass worms.” I noticed the corner of his mouth twitch a little when he quoted me, as if he were fighting a smile. “They are one of the indigenous life forms that have adapted to the modified environment. And they are nearly indestructible.”
“Ure worms?” I recalled their name.
“Right.” He nodded. “Every now and then they travel through the tunnels to feed, including the ones we have occupied. We found it is easier to organize and execute the defence against them if the cities are in a cluster, rather than being separated and on their own.”
“How do you fight the worms?”
“The old-fashioned way, by hand. The City Defence Forces was the largest and the most influential organization until The Science Group grew in size and importance. We have several legions responsible for the city. When ure proximity is reported, the legions are sent to attack and divert the worm before it hits the populated areas.”
I watched him grow more animated as he spoke, the subject of city defence obviously being one of interest to him. And I found myself drawn into the life he described.
“What do you mean by saying you’re fighting worms that must be the size of a subway train by hand?”
“A train?” He lifted a snowy eyebrow. “From what I’ve read about your underground transportation system, an ure worm is fifty to a hundred times wider in diameter than a subway train, and at least ten times as long.”
I gaped at him. “Really? I have a hard time imagining something like that.”
“Don’t even try. It’s ugly.” He smiled, using mostly just one half of his mouth, so it came out rather lop-sided. Still, it was a smile. “We always need to be extremely careful when using explosives or any heat-generating weapons underground—the overheating can cause fire in the oxygen-rich air in the tunnels, with devastating results. That leaves us with small close-range, cold-laser blades and metal spears. Knowing exactly where on the worm’s body to strike the blow to inflict the most damage is important.”
“Have you ever killed one?” That was a pure guess, but the way he talked about that part of Kealan life made me believe he might have been personally involved in the city defense.
“Yes. Many,” he confirmed my assumption.
“Was that your job back home? Did you work for the City Defence Forces?”
Tairan took a few seconds to reply this time.
“What did you do back home, Isabella?” he asked instead of answering my question.
“Oh, I worked in Shen’s Variety Store.”
&nb
sp; He stared at me, as if expecting me to continue. I wasn’t sure what to say next, though, because really there wasn’t much more than that to my story.
Tairan remained silent, so I went on, “It’s really more like a convenience store with an extended grocery aisle because it’s the only place to get groceries in town, except for the farm store, of course, but they mostly carry seasonal produce . . .” I stopped myself, realizing that he may not be familiar with much of what I was saying. “Sorry, does any of it make any sense to you?”
“About fifty percent,” he deadpanned.
“Right.” I rubbed my forehead. “Basically, I help run the store in our town. Since graduating from high school, I’ve gone from working part-time to being an Assistant Manager. My boss, Mister Shen, is nice, we get along well. And I get to read in peace during the late-night shifts—”
I caught myself talking in present tense about my job, which made me stop abruptly. All of that was in the past now.
“Got.” I sighed. “I meant to say ‘I got to read in peace.’”
“Have you ever been married? Had a partner?”
His question was unexpected, yanking me out of the gloom threatening to move in.
“I had a boyfriend,” I nodded, with a spike of hurt and anger at Johnny’s betrayal spearing through me anew. I understood he wouldn’t have been able to stop them from taking me, but the way he gave me up, without even voicing an objection, still burnt inside. “We broke up. This morning.”
It was hard to believe all of that happened just hours ago. Right now, Deer Rock and my parents’ house seemed to be in another life and another dimension.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Tairan sounded sincere, and his expression turned sombre once again.
Did he have to part from someone, too? I wondered.
A sudden buzzing sound startled me.
“The hour is up.” Tairan ran his fingers over the armlet on his forearm, and the sound stopped.
“Is it?” I exhaled heavily. The anxiety that had settled somewhat during our conversation rose again.
Having this hour had definitely helped. Tairan no longer seemed like a complete stranger to me. I had not expected to like having a conversation with him as much as I did.
Except that there was still a long way from liking talking to someone to having sex with him.
The fact that Tairan didn’t seem to be that excited about going through with it didn’t actually help. His cool, business-like demeanour towards the impending insemination made it worse, I realized. It felt like getting intimate with me was a chore for him, necessary to accomplish.
‘The sooner it starts, the sooner it ends.’ His earlier words came to mind, and I wondered once again what he really thought about all of this. About me.
“Tairan?” I whispered as he leaned over, placing his hands on my bare shoulders. “Do you find anything strange—ugly maybe—about human appearance?”
“Yes,” he confessed simply.
“Like what?” I braced inside for a list of things about me that repulsed him, then stopped him the moment he drew some air in to reply, “Wait. Don’t answer that. Can you tell me about what you find pleasant, instead? Is there anything you like about me?”
I’d never been intimate with someone I hadn’t loved before. There simply was no time to see if that fragile connection I might have established with Tairan had a chance to grow into anything yet. What was about to happen had nothing to do with love, but I longed for some kind of emotion, a positive feeling—even if it mostly had to do with physical attraction—between us that would help me go through with it.
Tairan paused for a moment, leaning back slightly then looking me over slowly, as if seeing me for the first time just now.
“I . . . I like your shape.” His gaze lingered on my breasts, pushed up by the beaded bodice of the wedding dress, which made them seem ready to burst out at any moment.
Men. I rolled my eyes inwardly. Human or alien, they definitely had things in common. The thought made me smile, easing my mood.
His hands still on my shoulders, he stroked the sides of my neck with his thumbs. “The feel of your skin.” His voice deepened as he moved closer, hovering his mouth over the spot he had just caressed with his thumb.
“How about you?” His whisper hit my neck, fanning it with warmth, which spread with a flock of pleasant tingles through my chest.
“Me?” I found myself tilting my head to the side, as if inviting his mouth closer.
“Is there anything you find attractive about me?” he asked softly.
Was it possible that he shared my insecurities, worrying what I might be thinking about him, too?
Lifting my hands, I carefully placed them on his shoulders then slid my palms down. “I like your shape, too,” I admitted, admiring the bulging cords of muscles in his arms.
His lips brushed against my neck as he drew me closer. The light contact sent another rush of ripples down my body.
The physical attraction to him seemed to be there for me.
Wishing for more, I leaned into him. My nose skimmed the few long, thin braids draped over his shoulder, his hair feeling smooth and silky.
With a series of light kisses and nibbles, he moved his mouth along my shoulder then down to the swell of my breast rising over the edge of the low neckline.
I slid my hands to his back, along the hard planes of muscles under his warm skin, and inhaled a lungful of air mixed with the exotic spice of his scent—warm and masculine, yet of no flavour I could compare it to.
“I like the way you smell,” I murmured.
He drew in some air sharply, roaming with his hands up and down my back then over to the front, pausing at my breasts.
“How do I take this off?” he muttered with clear frustration, tugging at the beaded neckline.
“Oh.” I exhaled a brief laugh. “The ribbon lacing on the back . . .” I twisted out of his arms, getting up and turning my back to him. “See? You’ll have to untie it, down here . . .” I tried to blindly find the bow at my waist with my fingers, feeling for the end of the ribbon. “This one. I think.”
I felt him firmly tug at the ribbon as he unlaced me with more fervour than skill.
“It took a team of professionals to pack me into this.” I laughed, still feeling a little apprehensive, but no longer scared or wracked by anxiety.
My laughing stopped abruptly, as he shoved the bodice—along with the strapless push-up bra I had on—down to my waist. Still at my back, he circled me with his arms, cupping my breasts from behind.
“I like the sound of your laughter,” he murmured, placing another kiss on my shoulder and massaging my breasts gently.
Swaying in my heels, I leaned back against his tall frame for support and covered his hands with mine, the warmth of his palms invigorating against my chilled skin.
“Now what?” he asked, between kisses around my neck. “How do I get rid of all this?” He kicked at the hem of my skirt, which puffed in a cloud all around us on the floor.
“Just like this,” I replied, somewhat breathlessly, and shoved the whole dress down, forcing the bodice past my hips.
The voluminous contraption heaved in layers of underskirts, as if some life form had trapped my legs. Hands on my waist, Tairan twisted me to face him, then lifted me up, and I kicked my feet free from the beaded silk.
He didn’t set me back on the floor but pressed me to his chest, hands under my butt, and I wrapped my legs around him.
“Ready?” He nuzzled my ear in a strangely intimate way that made my skin prickle with pleasure and my chest fill with warmth.
For the first time today, someone actually asked me if I was ready for whatever was about to happen. The sudden realization of this made my eyes burn with tears. Leaning my cheek against his shoulder, his braids tickling my nose, I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
And strangely enough, also for the first time today, I truly felt ready to go through with what the rest of them had
planned for me. I wanted more of his hands on my body and of his kisses on my skin.
Without letting me go, Tairan climbed on top of the bed then laid me down. Lowering his head to me, he touched my lips with his—light and gentle, not quite a kiss, yet so tantalizingly exciting in its promise of more. His braids fell over his shoulder, caressing my skin, as he trailed his lips down my neck to one of my breasts then sucked the tip into his mouth.
I felt his hand travel down my stomach, then his fingers running along the straps of the garter belt and the edge of the stockings.
Apparently having decided against asking any more questions, Tairan simply yanked at my lace panties, ripping the thin strap on the side apart, then slipped a finger between my folds.
Startled for a moment, I halted my breath, but the apprehension never took hold of me again, melting away as wonderful sensations spread through my body from the smooth glide of his finger between my legs combined with the light swirls of his tongue over my nipple.
Panting, I trailed my fingers along the braids fanning over the wide expanse of his back, then gripped his shoulders hard as he increased the speed of his hand, rubbing harder.
Suddenly, I realized what he was trying to do—make me come—although it would surely be a wasted effort on his part. After everything I’d gone through today, orgasm couldn’t possibly happen for me tonight.
‘There is no way,’ I thought, even as my body responded to whatever he did to me.
Stress and tension melted away as lightness floated through me, relaxing every muscle under the heat that came from wherever our bodies touched.
The hard, cold spring that seemed to have been winding tighter and tighter inside me with every passing minute throughout the day, finally began to relax under the warmth of his attention and tenderness of his touch.
I let my mind drift with the flow, too, forgetting where I was, whom I was with, and most importantly, why I was there.
All that mattered at that moment was his mouth at my breast, the silky, warm sensation of his tongue on my nipple, the slight grazing of his teeth.
The slick glide of his fingers in and out of me.
The tantalizing pressure of his thumb when he rubbed it against my most sensitive spot.
Experiment Page 5
