Pheromone, page 23
part #1 of For the Love of Aliens Series
He grabs hold of my waist with his tail and turns me over, putting me on my knees in front of him.
Holy fuck, he’s a horny bastard. That’s what I think, but you don’t see me complaining for good reason. I exhale and dig my fingers into the furs, suddenly desperate for another taste. Last night was fraught, but this morning is better. We’re not surrounded by darkness and hungry shadow monsters. I’m not worried that he’s about to die.
Instead, I get to savor the hot feel of his massive hands as he takes my hips, using his tail around my middle to hoist me up to a height that works for him. I’m biting down on my own lip as he presses his massive cock against my opening. There’s no way he’s going to—
I was going to say ‘fit’, but there are absolutely zero issues when he slides into my body, granting me that satisfied, full feeling again. I can’t breathe for the size and shape of him, but I feel weirdly complete. Happy hormones sizzle in my blood as I clutch desperately at the soft hides beneath me.
His hands hit the ground on either side of me, hard enough to shake the entire nest. His claws are out, protruding from the skin of his knuckles, and his arms glimmer with those beautiful markings. With his wing-hands, he takes my breasts and squeezes them in claw-tipped fingers.
A whimper escapes me. I have never felt anything like I’m feeling now. The heat of him. My own arousal. I’m as turned-on as I’ve ever been. At odds with his bestial nature and appearance, Abraxas is an affectionate lover, and my stomach somersaults when he drops his head near mine and rubs his cheek against me. That flexible spine of his comes in handy, allowing him to curl over and pay attention to my face when he otherwise would never be able to reach.
“So soft,” he growls against my ear. His real words—a guttural, rolling growl, like thunder—bring goose bumps up on my skin. The translator is nice, and it does an okay job of giving a deep, masculine tone to his words, but that’s not what he’s saying. What he’s saying is that sound, that wild male snarl and heat against my ear. “Such a tiny, sweet little female.”
Clearly, he doesn’t know me very well if he thinks I’m sweet. Then again, I saw the female that tried to rape him. If that’s what he’s used to, I’m a friggin’ peach.
Abraxas bites me then. It happens so suddenly that I don’t have time to be afraid. His teeth sink into my shoulder, and a groan ripples through me as he continues to fuck. The pleasure from my shoulder twists up in my belly, melding with the pleasure from between my legs, and my cunt pulses and squeezes on him as I approach a ridiculously fast orgasm.
Back home, my record was achieved alone—my Hitachi Wand was superior to any IRL guy I ever had—and stood at a whopping fifteen minutes. Which, I mean, is pretty good. Jane confessed to me just recently that she’s never had an orgasm which, I guess, is pretty normal for women our age.
Now? It’s been two minutes, and I’m about to come so hard that I might scream again.
Abraxas huffs a surprised sound against the side of my face, something that the translator repeats back to me as a very pleased, “oh.” His movements slow, like he’s savoring the feel of me, like it’s not something that he necessarily expected. “You want the mating rod?” he asks, but I have no clue what he’s talking about.
“Don’t … don’t stop.” I choke the words out, surprised that I’m able to talk at all. I’m the one with the translator on, so … “Fuck me, Abraxas.” He should understand that, right? He’s known that word all along. He said he knew right away that I wasn’t food. From my smell. I groan as my body pulses and flutters around him, and he makes the most pleased sound that I have ever heard from a man.
“Such a find, my female.” He growls and thrusts at the same time, driving his hips so hard into me that I let loose that scream I was holding back. Whelp, now Zero’s gonna know the truth. Do I give a fuck in that moment? Nope. My body sparkles under his touch. I don’t know how else to describe it except to say that I’m just a flicker of a person, a scintillation. And then he bites me again, and I’m not even that.
I let loose with the sounds, screaming and writhing and shoving my hips back into him as best I can. His tail is rock-hard, giving us the perfect platform to fuck over. The nest shakes, the vines holding it together whispering as they brush against one another with his movements. His wing-hands never stop caressing my breasts, fingertips teasing curiously over my nipples, like he’s not sure what to do with them.
I’ll teach him, I think, and I don’t let myself dig any deeper into why I might have a thought like that when I most definitely am not staying here.
He keeps hold of my shoulder with his teeth, but whatever is in that magic healing saliva of his, it doesn’t hurt. Neither does my midsection or my face, despite my injuries from yesterday. Instead, I come so hard that it almost hurts, my belly muscles squeezing tight, my cunt matching their strength, fingers ripping up the fur beneath me.
Abraxas keeps hold of me with his mouth, moving his wing hands away from my breasts and using them to feel me up. I swear, he touches every part of me: my hair, my arms, my sides, my thighs. Where I really want them—on my aching clit—he doesn’t go. I’ll have to teach him about that, too.
But I … just had an orgasm with little clitoral stimulation. That’s insane.
I’m so sweaty and worked up, my body jerking beneath him as he finishes himself, that I very nearly come a second time. Just like last night. But, just like last night, he comes before my second wave. His body tenses above me, muscles rippling beneath his smooth skin, and he bites down a little harder. A small sound of surprise escapes me as he buries his body deep enough that I can feel his hips pressing into my ass, and then he relaxes all around me.
Snatches of shadow dance in the air, blurs and flickers, extensions of his powerful body. It’s as if he’s wearing a cloak of night around his sleek, predatory form. Abraxas settles down around me, relaxing, dropping to his forearms, laying his wings out on either side of us. He keeps his tail under my hips, his weight on his arms, so that I’m comfortable even with his muscular bulk on top of me.
I’m still panting, still fluttering around his shaft. He finally releases my shoulder and then proceeds to lick the wounds he left behind. They don’t hurt. Not even a little bit.
“I’m guessing …” I start, struggling with the thickness of my own tongue. I swallow a few times to gather myself, and he uses his wing-hand to tug the translator off so he can put it on his own head. “I’m guessing we’re stuck together again?”
He considers that question before putting the translator back.
“We are exchanging fluids,” he tells me, almost gently, like he thinks I don’t understand. “You know nothing of mating?” That last question is surprisingly earnest, and I feel my cheeks flush. I do know something about mating—with other humans. Not with … dragon aliens. Aspis. Whatever. I have a feeling that I shouldn’t bring that up right about now.
Translator goes to him.
I don’t say anything for a while. I can’t explain it, but I can feel what he’s talking about. Something with those spirals and his cock, like there are blood vessels connecting our bodies. I can feel him inside of me in a way that’s more than just penetrative sex. Sharing fluids. Not just sexual fluids, but … blood? Am I his antivenom? I don’t get it, but I don’t ask just yet.
It’s too intimate in here, too quiet.
He continues with his affectionate behavior, rubbing his head on me and making me so absurdly uncomfortable that I wish I could just hop off this ship and run far, far away. Uncomfortable not because I don’t like it but because I do. I’m loving this moment, and I know that I can’t love this moment because I need to leave. I need to find my best friend and go the fuck home.
“I … I don’t know what to say,” I admit, and he rumbles with what I’m damn near positive is a laugh. Translator, back to me.
“You were difficult to court. I am lucky.” He draws out of me with that same sharp pinch, that little bit of blood. I roll onto my back to look up at him, and there he sits, savage but beautiful, alien but somehow, human, too. I struggle to sit up and he helps me, tail wrapped around my waist for support.
I take the headset off and hold it out to him. He accepts it and slips it on.
“What’s up with the …” I swallow back my embarrassment, gesturing loosely at my pelvis with a shaking hand. “What happens when we … what’s that sensation? What’s the blood from?” Other than that initial pinch, there’s no pain. I’m not overly sore either. It’s just enough of an ache that I can remember the feel of his body in mine, no more, no less.
He cocks his head at me, waiting for me to crawl forward and steal the headset back.
“My body to yours. Vice versa. Blood and venom and antibodies.” He stands up on all fours and drags me along with him, his tail around my waist. Probably a good thing since I’m not sure that I could walk just yet.
This is … I’d say it was going to get old fast because I’ve never liked clingy boyfriends in the past. Somehow, I’m intrigued by Abraxas against my better judgment. Never in the history of life has there been a worse match than us two. He’s from some rando jungle planet; I’m from Earth. We could never really have a relationship.
But damn if he isn’t the best sex I’ve ever had.
Damn if I don’t like him for more than that.
He sets me down beside the dead bird and then gets to work stripping the feathers, roasting it over flames that he starts with a huff of embers from his own mouth. I glance over my shoulder to see Zero staring at me. Obviously, she can’t really stare at me, but you know what I mean.
“I might be blind, but my hearing works just fine. Were those mating sounds emanating from the nest?” She sounds suspicious. I mean, when I read her words, they seem suspicious. Still not sure if I can trust this bitch or not.
“He was fucking his blankets again.” I wave my hand dismissively despite knowing she can’t see me. My cheeks flame. Abraxas stares at me. He’s situated by the fire in ‘dragon form’, curled onto his side with shadows twisting and swimming around his body. “What? Don’t look at me like that.”
“I am pleased with you, female.” That’s what he tells me, the guttural growls emanating from his chest and throat translating directly into my ear. But I can still hear them, his true, untranslated words. His voice is beautiful, his language guttural and exotic. “You show great courage in darkness.”
I’m not sure what he’s talking about, but my cheeks burn even hotter. With a sigh, I finally tear off the last shredded remnants of my top, kicking the boots off and tossing them aside. What difference does it make if my top half is naked? It’s my bottom half that Abraxas is interested in. No, Eve, you liar. It’s all of you.
“Thanks, but I didn’t do much.” He won’t understand what I’m saying, but oh well. I look up at his eyes, half-lidded and oddly affectionate. My blush—and I’m not much of a blusher—burns hot enough that I touch my hands to my cheeks, just to cool the heat down a little. “What were those shadow monsters anyway?”
I go to hand the translator back, but Abraxas doesn’t take it.
“Night Feasters,” he replies easily, as if he knew what my question was. I give him a look.
“How much English do you really know? Come on, dude.” I scoot a little closer to him, trying to ignore the wetness between my legs. We’re cavemen out here. I have no idea where I’m supposed to go to wash myself off. But, uh, there’s a lot. He’s a big guy. “Where did you learn English? Little? Fuck? Female? You know an awful lot.”
He blinks at me, turning his head away and then scratching at his horn with a clawed back foot. Like a cat or a dog or something. Jesus.
“Slavers bring your species here. They speak in your species’ tongue. Your species speaks in the language of your species.” He looks back at me like duh, how else did you think I knew English? Something about his statement bothers me, a strange niggling in my belly that feels an awful lot like jealousy.
I purse my lips and cross my arms over my breasts to keep his wandering eyes away. And let’s be clear: they wander and linger. On my breasts. On my lips. On the mess between my thighs. On my face. My cheeks burn like the hideous twin suns that cook this damn planet during the day. It’s still light out now, but it’s turning quickly to twilight. We must’ve slept most of the day away together. Storm’s passed though.
“How many humans have you brought back here?” I ask dryly. “How many ‘mates’ have you had?” Not that I have room to talk. I wasn’t a virgin before yesterday either. “In addition, I’d like to know how many Aspis females you’ve mated. Just … I’m sure I can’t get pregnant, but I don’t want, like, some dragon STD.”
Abraxas slithers over to me in a blur of inky shadows, surrounding me with his massive form. He snarls in my ear, breaking up the headset with strange static, like his very presence is scrambling its ability to translate.
“Repeat.” He takes the translator and then he waits. I question my decision, but that same ol’ plucky spirit wins out and I do it anyway.
“How many mates have you had?” I ask, turning to look at him over my shoulder. He takes up every inch of available space, making the large hull area of the ship seem very, very small indeed. He growls violently back at me, mouth rippling with all those teeth. Teeth that were buried in my shoulder just minutes ago.
I reach up and rub at my shoulder, sending prickles of heat straight to my core. When I try to peer at the wounds, all I see are small pricks of reddened skin where his teeth punctured. He gives the translator back.
“Only one mate, female. If we separate, we will both die of a broken heart.” He seems exasperated with me, but how is it my fault that we only have one translator, and it’s a mediocre one at that? Better than the last one, but still. “Never more than one.” He puts his face right up against mine. “You see the dead female?” He draws back and stalks over to the edge of the ship.
Come to think of it, I didn’t look at the female’s corpse when we came back this morning. Call it a trauma-based reaction if you want, but I automatically looked away.
I stand up and move over beside Abraxas.
The female dragon—or Aspis, I guess—is little more than a skeleton. There are wildflowers growing through her bones, bright in color and rich in fragrance. My eyes widen and I glance over at Abraxas. He’s crouched down in his gargoyle pose, staring.
“Without my female, that would be me this morning.” He turns away from the door with a sweep of shadows. It doesn’t hurt when that ethereal darkness passes over me. It’s more … a gentle caress. I find myself following after him without even realizing that I’m doing it. Abraxas drags the bird’s body from the fire, tears a leg off with his claws, and then pushes it toward me. “Eat.”
It sounds less like a suggestion than it does a command.
I narrow my eyes on him, but I sit and take the food anyway. I’m starving. That, and I’m not about to have sweetbreads (aka organ meat) shoved down my throat again. Gag.
Gingerly, I pick the food up, blowing on the oversized drumstick to cool it. It’s quite literally the length of my arm, from fingertip to elbow. I take a careful bite, pulling crispy skin and juicy flesh from the bone. My eyes widen. Holy shit. It’s not just edible but delicious. I tear into the meat like a beast and Abraxas makes that rumbling sound I’ve learned to equate to a laugh.
“Strong females eat well.” That’s what he says to me. I ignore him, unsure how to respond to someone who keeps claiming that we’ll die of broken hearts if we’re separated. How can he possibly think something like that? Is he a hopeless romantic? He keeps looking at me with those hooded eyes, raking his gaze over my naked body. It shouldn’t be like this, right? I don’t look anything like a female of his species. And yet, he rejected a female of his species in favor of you. Eve, think about that.
“How old are you?” I ask, and then I remember that he can’t understand me. I give him the translator and he uses his tail to put it on his head. I repeat the question. Take the headset back.
“Mature adult male,” he responds, but since I have no fucking clue what that means, I make a number up in my head. Let’s call him twenty-nine years old. Just for kicks and giggles. He could be a thousand years old for all that I know. I purse my lips.
We switch the translator back and forth as we talk. A real, honest-to-god conversation. And all of this after we fucked each other senseless. Well … after he fucked me senseless. I’m not sure that he’d even let me fuck him or if I even could if I tried. I rode him for all of two minutes last night before he reversed our roles—and that was while he was on the verge of death.
“My birthday is coming up; I’ll be twenty-six years old.” I pause at his slow blink, like maybe the translator doesn’t know what to do with that. “What I mean to say is, I’ll be twenty-six Earth years old. Like, twenty-six rounds of my planet around its sun.” I hesitate, wondering how much he knows about space travel. He lives in a spaceship, but I have a feeling he knows very little outside of this forest and this planet. “I’m from a whole different planet, you know?”
“I am aware.” He finishes the rest of the bird by himself, and then he eats the large bone that I’ve just licked clean, snatching it up with his tongue and taking the entire thing down his throat in a single swallow. Yikes. My new boyfriend is … way not human. Not even close. I scratch my temple. “You were stolen and brought here to serve as a forced mate.” He pauses there to look up at me. “Or food.”
“Yeah, no shit.” I sigh. “I saw a sign when I woke up. It said, “Humans … pets, meat, or mates.” I wrinkle my nose. I can’t even believe we’re having a conversation here. He’s … weirdly easy to talk to. “I’m just lucky that you found me or I’d probably be dead. I don’t do well with ‘authority’.” I make air quotes that I’m sure he doesn’t understand. “Or ‘rules’. Forced mating … that would’ve been the worst.” I frown when my mind drifts back to Jane again. Not just her, but Avril and the male medic, Connor. To Madonna, the possum. I’m even entertaining the tiniest crumb of worry for stupid Tabbi Kat.
