13. Chapter 12

Jasmine stood in the middle of the room and waited. In the short time she knew Rocor, she learned to wait until he told her what to do. Broad daylight streamed down through the ceiling window, and a fragrant breeze blew out of the forest.

She couldn’t enjoy them, though, not with him stalking her. He didn’t stand behind her where she couldn’t see him, either. He stood right in front of her where she couldn’t avoid him. She couldn’t turn her eyes away from his smoldering face. She couldn’t escape that maddening steel edge in his eyes when he looked at her.

His tongue moved inside his mouth. “So…. what would you like to do?”

She pursed her lips. “I think the question is what you would like to do.”

He bit back a smile. “You’re smart. You learn quickly.”

“I have a good teacher.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you want? Do you want a teacher?”

She dared return his gaze. “You said you would show me what it was like to be with a dominant man. We’re conducting scientific research here, aren’t we?”

He nodded and strolled over to the window. He made a great show of gazing out it. “I suppose that’s what we’re doing.”

“You don’t have to pretend,” she told him.

“Pretend what?”

“You don’t have to pretend you’re interested in me. You don’t have to pretend you want something from me other than plain old sex.”

He didn’t turn around. “If you don’t want me to pretend, I won’t.”

“Why should you pretend? I would rather have the truth than some lie.”

He nodded out at the forests and mountains. “So, would I.”

There. She said it. She didn’t have to say anymore. Now both of them had their cards on the table.

“So... would you like to continue our research? No, don’t answer that.”

She stood silent and waiting. He would tell her what she wanted to do. He knew better than she did. What did she know about what she wanted? She’d lived thirty-two years without ever knowing what she wanted. She never knew until he showed her.

He didn’t smile anymore. His face didn’t turn black and reptilian, either. The patterns lightened. They softened into gentle tumbling waves of leaves and fronds and fingers uncurling and grasping and letting go again. They wrinkled around his lips and washed away into his shirt collar.

He nodded over his head. “Lie down on the bed.”

What? Lie down on the bed without taking her clothes off? She climbed onto the bed and lay down on the pillows. He climbed up, too. He stretched his long body next to hers and crooked one elbow under his head.

She waited. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to do anything?”

“Aren’t you going to do anything?”

“I thought you were going to show me what it was like to be with a dominant man.”

“So here I am. You’re with me.”

She blinked. What was he trying to say? “So…. now what?”

“You’re with a dominant man. I’ve shown you what it’s like. Now what are you going to do?”

She studied his features. What in the world did he mean? “Are you saying I can do what I want?”

“What did you want when you came in here?”

“I didn’t really think about it. I thought you would do what you want.”

“Now you’re here, so you can do what you too.”

Do what she wanted? What exactly did she want? No man ever told her to do that before. She always did what she thought she was supposed to do. She never even considered doing what she wanted. She never gave it a second thought.

Now that she thought about it, there was one thing she really wanted to do more than anything else. Her heart skipped a beat. Could she really do it? What if she offended him somehow?

One look into his eyes answered that question. She wouldn’t offend him, no matter what she did. Nothing she really wanted would bother him. He wanted her too. He wanted her to experience the pleasure of finding out what really pleased her.

She smiled, and he smiled back. She sat up on the bed and swiveled her legs around. She rose above him, and he laid back on the pillows. He put his head on one side and relaxed into whatever was about to happen. He would accept it. He would enjoy it, whatever it was.

She rested one hand on his broad chest. His ribs and sternum rose and fell with his breath. She examined the medallion on his buckler. She lifted the buckler out of the way. His shirt flopped open at the neck, and she slipped her hand inside.

She caressed his bare chest under his shirt and watched the magical shapes rise out of his skin under her touch. They followed her hand. They swam around her fingers and swooped up his neck to cover his face. He breathed with them, and he shivered all over at that feather touch.

She tugged his shirt out of his waistband and pushed it over his head. He sat up to peel it off and lay back in his place. Now she used two hands to stroke his chest, his stomach, his sides, up to his neck and under his arms. She studied those intoxicating designs until she fell into a dream world where they occupied the whole planet.

They grew out of the ground. They wound together to form people and animals and mountains. They formed the whole planet and everything in it. That’s what the tapestries showed. That’s what all this artwork showed. The patterns were the original Krataks, maybe even the only Krataks, the only Krataks that mattered.

When she tickled her fingers down his stomach, the patterns dove into his pants. Where would they end? How would they react when she touched him...down there? That was the real question. That was the hidden mystery she really wanted to find out. She never got a chance to see him when she did it with him in the dark. Now was her chance.

She got up on her knees. He didn’t move. He showed no sign of surprise or confusion when she took hold of his pants to undo them. He expected it. He invited her to do what she wanted. He relaxed on the bed, but no one could mistake his relaxation for submission. He would never submit. He would always dominate. He told her what to do. He told her to do what she wanted, and now she did what he told her to do. She submitted to him in this, too.

She unfastened his pants and slid them down his legs. The vines entwined around his legs. They moved up and down his legs at the same time. They emerged from the soles of his feet to push him up against the force of gravity. At the same time, they plunged past his feet to anchor him to the planet.

She traced them, and they responded to her touch. She communicated with those shapes and designs through her fingers. They existed in a world of their own simultaneously with this world where she watched them and thought about them and reached out to them.

Rocor sucking his breath through his teeth caught her attention. She looked up at his face. He glared down at her with his teeth bared, and a mask of hideous anguish blotted out his face. Racking tension tormented his body, but he lay still and didn’t move. He clenched his jaw and wheezed through his teeth.

She dallied her fingertips down his legs and watched the torturous shudders quake his body. His midsection contracted, and his muscles strained. Did she do that? Did her touch really affect him so much?

She went back to watching the patterns. They fascinated her, now more than ever, now that she understood them. She learned from them. She learned what Rocor and the other Krataks really were. This was her scientific investigation.

The foliage wound up his legs, around his hips and down to his stiff cock. They arched over it in prickly spines. They sank their wicked thorns into his skin and infected his veins with their roots. They dove between his legs and around to grip his ass.

She followed them there, too. She copied them until she closed his throbbing meat in both hands. She moved up and back and around and squeezed the blood from his veins.

His ragged voice broke in on her reverie. “Don’t! God, don’t!”

She peered up at him. “Don’t? Why not? Does it hurt.”

He groaned and twisted onto his side. “Oh, God! It hurts so much.”

She started to let go. She didn’t want to hurt him, but he caught her wrists and held her still. He moaned and growled under his breath. He contorted on his side, but he kept her hands in place on his cock. He doubled over in the fetal position.

She didn’t know what to do. She only knew she had to make him better. She had to heal the hurt she caused. She bent down to kiss him, and she knew what she had to do. She took him in her mouth. He groaned and sobbed worse than ever, but she wouldn’t stop. She had to get those patterns into herself. She had to soothe him.

He fought her wrists away so she couldn’t touch him, but he couldn’t hold every part of her at once. She moved her head up and down in her own rhythm. She sucked and licked. If only she could see those patterns from here, she would know what she had to do. She could only trust to her instincts.

He whimpered low. “Oh, God. Oh, God, no.”

That no meant yes. She understood that now. He wanted it so bad he didn’t want it. She took his thick member in her mouth. She swallowed him all the way down. His iron muscles spasmed him in half, but he didn’t pull away. His hands melted off her wrists, and she took the invitation.

She took hold of him around the waist and wrestled him against her. She squirmed between his legs and sucked for all she was worth. His breath came harder and louder, but he didn’t fight her off. She had him. She was doing something to please him. That’s all she really wanted.

She forced him onto his back. His cock stuck straight up into her mouth. She coated it with her saliva and his own salty jiz. She sucked faster, and his breath caught in his throat. He kept whispering. “Oh, God. No, God, please.”

She grasped his cock around the base. She clenched it off until the veins distended around her fingers. She tugged the loose skin up in time to her strokes.

He caught her behind the neck and pried her off. He gasped low. “No! Don't!”

She stared at him. Don’t? Why not? What should she do if not that? He told her to do what she wanted, and now he told her no. She couldn't get figure out what to do next. He relaxed back into the bed, and the tension eased out of him. Only his cock lay stiff and tense where she left it.

What more could she do? What exactly did she really want to do with him now? She had a dominant man spread out naked before her. She could do anything she wanted with him. A thousand possibilities jeered and cheered in her mind. She could do any of them, and all of them pleasant.

She had one more thing to investigate, though. Her scientific study wouldn't be complete without this one small detail. She caressed him up and down, but he didn't rise to the same tension as before. He lay still and waited for her. He already know what came next.

She shucked off her clothes. Those clothes made her what she was. They made her Jasmine Forsythe, biologist, Commanding Officer. Once they were gone, she became wild and free. She became just as animal and guttural and unchained as Rocor himself.

Her hair brushed her shoulders. She shook her head, and her eyes gleamed when he looked up at her. She knew what she wanted, and nothing would stop her getting it—especially not him.

She leaned over him, and her breasts trailed over his chest. The patterns surrounded them. They tingled around her nipples. Rocor choked at the delicate touch. She swooped up and back. She danced her nipples down to his belly.

He set both hands on her shoulders. She covered his chest and arms. She kissed him all over with her breasts and observed the moving, seething response. She glided all the way up to his mouth, and she fell between his lips.

The patterns engulfed his mouth, his eyes. They emerged from his chest with his breath. She watched them sparkle on his lips and cheeks where her pendulous flesh brushed him.

He lifted them in his hands to position them where he wanted them. The patterns rolled down his hands to his fingertips and around his arms. He clasped her against him.

Her breath came faster. His teeth dug into her nipples, and excited agony gushed down her belly to her cunt. Her juices saturated her tissues. She had only one more thing to do, only one more experiment to make, and she would be complete. She took hold of his blistering cock, guided it between her legs, and sat down.