by Robin Lovett
A spout of sparkling azure pre-come drips from the tip down his length onto my hand, and I have to taste it. I float in my weightlessness down his body, and hanging onto his cock, I lap at him with my tongue. I can’t help moaning with delight, and I glance up at him.
His eyes—gods, they’re a deep forest emerald. But hot. Can green look like flames? His eyes blaze like licentious daggers. Like he’s already envisioning what he wants me to do to him with my mouth.
“Go ahead,” he groans, in a guttural, lust-filled tone that sends another gush of wet arousal onto my thighs.
I stare at him as I put the tip of him between my lips, wanting to watch his face while I pleasure him.
His mouth twists open, but his eyes stay on me. I circle my tongue around the head of his cock, and he cringes in blissful agony. The sex on his face, his sheer hunger for me dares me to take him deeper.
I open wide, wishing my mouth and throat were infinite caverns, but I can’t take much beyond the tip of him, he’s so big. I stack my hands on his length, twist and stroke, reveling in the feel of him, the texture and heat. He slides across my tongue with the smoothness of alabaster but with the heat of his alien flesh. He tastes not of the steel his hardness resembles but like the passion of his sex sating my mouth.
He threads his fingers into my hair, loosening it from the binding at my nape until it’s falling around my face, and he’s stroking it off my cheeks.
In front of my eyes, between my fingers and inside my mouth, he starts to glow and come. He floods my throat, and I swallow again and again. His come pours down my throat, and I can’t get enough. He’s life-giving nourishment; my body soaks him in, and I suck on him, desperate for every drop. I want to gorge myself on him, but I’m not sure there will ever be such a thing as enough of his come.
I feel a jolt and look up to see, in our free-floating, his back against the ceiling of the ship, and I am now upside down. Except I’m not, because I’m weightless.
He gently uncurls my hands from his length and pulls his cock from my throat.
“No,” I moan in protest and grasp at him.
He drifts me to float to his mouth. “Come here.” He wraps his arms around me and cuddles me to him. He hugs me.
I don’t understand why, until I realize I’m shuddering, my hands shaking and teeth chattering.
“Don’t take too much on your first time,” he whispers in my ear and caresses my back with his hands.
My body is flooding with this euphoric tingling sensation. “Did—did—your come—do something—to me?”
“It’s an aphrodisiac when swallowed. I suspect it’ll affect you more than a Fellamana.”
As he holds me, my body calms, as though adjusting to the new drug running in my system. I breathe against him, feeling his chest rise and fall against mine.
But I can’t help opening my thighs around his hips, rubbing my clit against his still hard cock where I’m aching. My clothes are so torn, it doesn’t take much for me to twist my hips and for his cock to slip through a ripped seam, to stroking my bare thigh.
He’s buried his face in my neck, his lips trailing over my skin.
But all I can think about is getting his cock inside me.
I lift my leg a little higher, tilt my hips a little closer and…I win.
Chapter Eighteen
Koviye
She’s quivering in my arms, and all I want is to comfort her and seal her to me and love her and keep her and never let her go and…
Molten wet heat blissfully envelops the tip of my cock. Her thighs are wrapped around my hips, and all it would take would be one thrust of my hips and…
OH FUCK!
I press away from her, as gently as I can, while still stopping her. “Jenie, no.” Sweat sprouts on my brow, and I blink hard. It’s as though a thick cloud is in front of my eyes keeping me from being able to see right, but I can decipher her expression of bitter disappointment. I hear the cry of outrage on her lips, but it’s all fuzzy. It’s not right.
I glance down at my hardened cock, trying to remember why I stopped. Why not be inside her like she wants? Like I want.
But then I see her uniform, the insignia emblazoned on the fabric, the T.S. for Ten Systems.
The Ten Systems, our mission. Jenie, her boundaries.
I glance outside expecting to see stars and instead see the purple gaseous haze surrounding us. It must be causing this, clouding my mind somehow, making it hard for me to think, making it hard for Jenie to think.
I kick off the wall and dive for the emergency air supply. I yank open the panel and find the gas masks hooked to the air filters. I put the first one over my head, seal it to my face, and suck in air hard through the filter.
It sends a shock of clean air to my starved brain and clears my head enough for me to realize…holy shit, what was that?
I grab a mask and take it to Jenie. “Put this on.”
Her expression is twisted with confusion. “Koviye, why won’t you fuck me?”
Oh gods. I don’t have the will to resist her when she’s begging me with eyes that look like I’ve insulted her by refusing her. But I have to. I promised her. I can’t break this promise. Especially if half the things she just told me in our fucked up, tell-all, chemically induced confession are true.
“Jenie, please put this on.” I try to hold the mask up to her face.
She pushes my hands and turns away from me. “You don’t want me. I knew it.”
“Jenie, look at me.” I grasp her shoulder, and she lifts her eyes to mine. “We will have sex again.” In your dreams. “I do want you. But right now, you need to wear this.” Or I’ll end up accidentally mating you for life even though I’m only capable of breaking your heart.
My pulse slows and chills at the thought, realizing what it all means—if this is true. The great risk she’s taken in being with me. The marvel that she ever allowed me to touch her at all.
How bitterly I’m doomed to disappoint her.
“P-please.” My voice cracks with the surge of emotion that overcomes me, the disgust in myself that borders on self-hatred that I could be so thoroughly the opposite of what she really needs. “Wear this.”
She finally lets me lift the mask to her face and inhales through the specialized filter. After one breath, her eyes widen like stars, and she stares at me in horror.
“It’s okay—it’s okay.” I try to comfort her while I secure the mask’s strap behind her head. “It’ll be all right, Jenie. I promise.” My voice is hazy through the mask but still intelligible.
I let go of her, to give her some space. My head is still fuzzy, my thoughts still spiraling too out of control, dwelling on sex and love and her and wanting everything I have ever wanted in my life to revolve around her.
What is wrong with me?
The mask isn’t enough. I search the emergency compartment and pull out two handheld oxygen suppliers. I attach one to my mask. It floods my mask with freshly made oxygen, never touched by whatever-the-fuck gas is outside the ship.
And all my fears come back, along with my ability to restrain myself, to withhold myself and filter my impulses before acting or speaking—as though the gas disabled that part of my conscience. Weird.
I attach the second oxygen supplier to Jenie’s mask. I watch her take long, jagged, full inhales of the fresh oxygen, and she slowly shakes her head, turns away from me.
“Jenie, we can talk about this. It’s not a bad thing.” But even as I’m saying it, I’m starting to shake, remembering what I said to her. Remembering what gibberish I babbled about feelings and about leaving the Fellamana—things that aren’t true, and I don’t know why I said them.
I can’t be in love with her. It’s impossible. It’s like inhaling this gas made my brain fabricate and exaggerate somehow. But gods, how do I tell her that it was a lie? How do I tell someone whose genetic biology is telling her to mate with me for life that I’m incapable of even loving her or anyone that way?
; Damn, I’m an asshole.
Almost like she knows and doesn’t want to face me and my lies, she pushes herself toward the back and shuts herself into the rear cabin.
My ears are full of nothing but the loud rush of my breathing inside the oxygen mask.
I have never felt so inadequate in my life. Me and my genetic inability to feel the emotions she’s capable of—it’s almost enough to make me wish I were human.
Chapter Nineteen
Jenie
I refuse to fall asleep, no matter how lethargic the oxygen makes me feel—because I can’t risk seeing him.
I know logically that even in my dreams, if I don’t want him there, he won’t be there. But I don’t trust myself. I want him too much.
So I lie there, or float there. I don’t turn on the gravity regulator, but I recline, hovering over the bed, staring at the cloud going by outside. I can’t believe I told him about the mating bond. This fucking gas bullshit invading my mind—it was like it stole everything from my brain that I didn’t want to say and made me word vomit.
Private things. Things that are none of his business. Things that I never would’ve told him in a million years. But now he knows.
He said things, too, but I don’t believe him. He may be wondering if he’s feeling things for me he’s never felt before. He may be believing in the moment like he wants to be with me for longer than a few days, but as soon as he’s back on Fellamana, amongst his people, lovers waiting in every corner, begging for his orgasmic Exstare—and his euphoric come, apparently—he’ll be done with me.
He is a sex god. There really is no other description for him or explanation for his existence.
No wonder I’ve fallen so hard, like soul and body-craving hard, for him. I may not be in pain anymore from my body’s uncontrollable need to mate but—I’m feeling this attachment to him that—
I groan and roll over so I’m staring at the beige mattress instead of the purple fog outside. I feel—I don’t know what I feel. It’s this strange need for him. Not merely sexual, though that’s a result of it. It’s like I’m a puzzle of pieces made to fit someone else to complete my makeup. And he fits all my jagged edges perfectly. Or it feels like he could. My intuition and body believe he will.
I’m starting to feel other strange urges. There’s a violence in me. I’ve always known it’s there. It’s why the Ten Systems wanted me. Why they took as many Ulreya into their service as they did. Female Ulreya are often very aggressive.
When our loved ones are threatened, we are unstoppably vicious. I watched it as a child, saw the magnificent females in my family in a surge of adrenaline able to fight off beasts four times their size and win. I feel it, in my gut. How I would be capable of such a thing, if anyone dared try to hurt Koviye.
Which I suppose is good considering what’s coming, considering, from what he says, his only defensive ability is his invisibility. Fuck, he’s going to get himself killed. I wonder if there’s any way I can convince him to carry one of my blasters. I can manage with just one.
I can’t believe I almost let his cock in me. I cover my face in my hands.
At least he’s honorable. It’s hard not to fall for someone who keeps his promises to me even in a chemically induced madness. I can’t imagine how much deeper an attachment I’d be feeling to him, how strong my bond would be to him, if I had gotten his cock in me.
I understand my mother better now.
When my father left her, she refused to take the herb that would end her bond with him so she could move on with her life. I never understood her choice. I resented her refusal to end the misery of her heartbreak and soul ache that she lived with day after day.
If she had ended it, she would’ve forgotten all he meant to her. She would’ve lost the love she felt for him.
I fathom that choice now.
I have not bonded with Koviye. I will eventually let go of these intense feelings I’m forming for him.
And I’m not sure I ever want to. As painful as it is to know he’ll never return them, to know I’m capable of these whole-hearted emotions gives me a kind of strength and belief in myself I didn’t have before.
I roll back over and stare at the cloud, willing it to disappear, running over the plans of the Lolly Galactic hub in my head. I memorized them, but I want my knowledge of the structural network to be instinctive. This is mission critical.
And I will succeed. Failure isn’t a viable outcome.
The cloud eventually dissipates. When all traces of it are gone from view and I’m surrounded by stars again, I take off my mask slowly and test the air. The scent is gone, and my thoughts run clear, with no drugged fog entering my mind. I never would’ve guessed there was some unknown gaseous element in the universe that could permeate an airtight ship. It even permeated the oxygen mask, but the constant flow of clear air did manage to diffuse the gas and its effects. I’ll have to let our researchers know.
I fortify myself with my determination to achieve the goal of this mission, banishing attachment thoughts of Koviye from my consciousness. I search through the storage compartments; given my tattered clothing, I’m in need of a new suit.
I find a Fellamana-style ensemble that’s obviously cut for a female form. It’s a little short in the legs and arms, considering my height, but it otherwise fits me. Though it is mostly see-through. It has extra opaque fabric to cover my nipples and my crotch, but I suspect it’s only for protection and not necessarily for modesty. Whatever. It’s the only option. I’ll be covering up with my armor anyway.
I open the door.
He glances back at me, and his eyes widen at seeing me.
I glare at him, daring him to say a word about how it’s his fault my uniform is ruined.
After he blinks a few times, he heeds my warning. “Arrival to Lolly Galactic in one hour,” he informs me with military efficiency.
“Good.” I float straight to the compartment where he stowed my armor yesterday. It’s a bit more challenging to put on without the straps installed in my Ten Systems uniform especially for attaching it. But I manage.
I leave my weapons belt and my helmet to put on later and sit in the seat beside his captain’s chair. I munch on a food ration he put in the compartment next to my seat. “Is the invisibility shield engaged?”
He’s studying the navigation readout. “Its default position is on. Its alternate setting is off. So yes.” He glances at me with level sincerity. “It’s on. No one can see us, and we are flying under stealth and have been this entire time.”
“Ah.” I guess I didn’t read far enough in his ship’s instructions to get to that. “If we’re going to maneuver around the hub, I should fly since I know the flight patterns.”
He nods without argument. “Makes sense.” He unbuckles from his seat, and we bump into each other as we switch seats.
I can’t help pausing as his hands linger on my shoulders. I can’t feel his warmth through my armor, but I feel the pressure as he moves past me. I can’t help running my hand across his. My desire to touch him is instinctive, and like the invisibility shield, apparently needs to be turned off since its default setting is on.
I hear his breath catch in my ear. It makes me shiver, but I push past him. I have to learn how to fly this ship.
I strap into the captain’s chair and tap in the code to dismantle the autopilot. Time to focus, and there’s nothing like flying to engage the total attention of the brain. Well, a good fight is better, but this will do.
I get a handle for the steering. It’s so sensitive, I can’t help but love it, and I say so.
“I’m glad you like it,” Koviye says stiffly beside me. I glance at him, and his expression is sincere and…he looks away from me before I can read too much in his gaze.
I turn back to my task and put the speeder through a few evasive maneuvers straight from my Ten Systems flight school days. She responds with more agility than I’ve ever experienced, rolling in tight spirals with the mere twitch of my fin
gers, swooping in and out of dives with a slight twist of my wrists. It’s a dream machine.
“I could dodge through a standard fifteen-fighter formation in this,” I gasp, staring at the controls in awe. “Like weaving through a maze.” I share my excited smile with him. “I’d say we’re going to be just fine.”
He hums in committed agreement. “Combined with your flight skills, I’d say so. Where’d you learn to do that?”
I inhale hard, trying not to think too hard about the memories. “When mistakes are rewarded with torture, it’s amazing what one is capable of learning.”
“My gods.” He mutters something in Fellamana, too. “I’m so glad you escaped from those monsters.”
“Me, too.”
Lolly Galactic with its hodge-podge of construction comes gradually into view. The mini space station built for communication purposes turned smuggler trading post is a hideous, directionless vessel floating in nowhere land between systems. It’s made of black, mismatched docking bays spiking out from the central columns in random configurations. Lights litter some portions while others are dark and deserted.
“I’ll aim for one of the non-functioning ports,” I say. None of my fancy flying is necessary on the way in. There’s no traffic near the darkened section I aim for. But given the speeder’s capabilities, that’s not my biggest worry anymore. “If the docking bay door isn’t working, do you have airtight space-walking suits?”
“Yes,” Koviye eases my fear, though not taking his focus off our flight destination. “I doubt they will be necessary.”
“It’s likely they will. The power may be disconnected from the dark bay—and its atmospheric controls—completely.”
“We’ll have options even if that is the case.”
I can’t help rolling my eyes. His vagueness is annoying, but I have no desire to argue with him.
