Every day, Zarken wondered why he bothered. Sincerely. He could have sent an employee, an apprentice; anyone, really. They didn’t need him on Earth.

You came to this planet because you were bored, a little voice reminded him.

Yes, he had. And instead, he was bored and annoyed now, because the planet hadn’t retained his attention past the first hour of his stay.

Krinars didn’t have an organized army as such, but when the Elders saw a threat, they liked to have it assessed and, if need be, managed. That was where he came in.

The events that had occurred at the beginning of the summer – the foolish resistance humans had organized against his kind – had been neutralized with ease, but the Elders still felt that getting him involved was the wisest course of action. Pointless as it was, humans would risk losing lives in order to regain control over their planet. Never mind that they had no clue what to do with it. They’d been well on their way to destroying it before its time, when they’d intervened. But they would fight against them, because it simply was in their nature. War. Violence. They loved it. Needed it. Having an enemy to fight made their short lives feel meaningful, perhaps.

Not that Krinars could blame them, all things considered. Firstly, they had been lead and manipulated by other Krinars, but Zarken also gave them the benefit of the doubt, because his race wasn’t a stranger to violence. The main difference was that, unlike humans, Krinars were aware of their tendency, and had found ways to address it responsibly.

No Krinar would ever act like the three drunken buffoons, or the prey they were closing in on, for that matter. They planned to rape the girl, or frighten her, at the very least. The girl hadn’t been resourceful enough to avoid putting herself in this situation. Zarken wasn’t sure who was more idiotic.

“Yeah? Gonna do something about it? There’s one of you, and three of us,” the sweaty, pungent human observed.

Zarken hadn’t planned to intervene, actually. He would simply have alerted some sort of employee around here, and let humans deal with the human matter. No doubt their kind had some sort of punishment in place for harassing, or intending to harm, their females.

But then, the man had to go and make it personal, issuing a challenge. And Zarken was extremely bored.

“You might want to bring a dozen of your kind, and it may end up being a fair fight,” he replied, feeling the corner of his mouth curve up.

Although, he was lying. A dozen wouldn’t have cut it. Not against most Krinars, certainly not against him.

Zarken minimized his computer before placing it in the back pocket of his surprisingly convenient Earthen attire, and turned to the small group of humans, taking a good look at them for the first time.

That’s when he saw her. The others faded in the background, becoming quite irrelevant as he scrutinized her eagerly, hungrily.

Not a girl, then; a woman. Zarken felt a familiar, yet unexpected yearning buzz through him as he met her deep brown eyes, and watched her mouth pop open. Interesting.

Sex was one of the few things that managed to rid him of the boredom for a while, but it was rare that he found a female to his taste. It had been years since anyone had caught his interest. Yet the human had his attention now.

Which was bad. For him, for her, and certainly for the males who’d wanted to harm her. Because yes, Krinars acted in a civilized manner, in general, but under the layers of cultivated etiquette, and reasonable behavior, they were something else entirely. Hunters. Creatures who’d savagely killed to protect their territory. There was only so much that evolution could do to erase that.

The woman had brown hair, falling in soft waves around her face, long lashes and smoldering eyes, but it was her plump lips that had retained his attention. He knew just what he wanted to do with those lips, and the heavy breasts highlighted by the sweetheart neckline of her pink dress.

If he could pick one word to describe his entire race, it would have been territorial, and right then, he almost felt like the stranger staring at him with her pretty mouth open was part of his territory.

“You may want to close your eyes, doll,” he told her pleasantly, appreciating the way her cheeks reddened deeper yet. “It’s not going to be pretty.”

“Wait,” one of the humans stuttered, “You’re one of…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, as Zarken’s hand was already wrapped around his throat.

“Sorry, we didn’t know she was with…”

He didn’t hear the rest of the sentence, as he’d thrown the man to the end of the corridor and heard his bones crack at the impact. He slowly approached another while smiling, as he saw the last coward flee. He seized the heathen’s skull and effortlessly pushed him down, forcing him on his knees.

“You can’t kill him,” his woman said, not sounding quite certain.

And she was right to doubt it; of course, he could. His kind weren’t subject to human laws.

“Or anyway, you shouldn’t,” she amended. “I’m sure they’ve all learned their lesson.”

Zarken turned to her, and instantly forgot what he’d been about to say, as the depth of her eyes hit him full force.

He narrowed his eyes.

“Do I look like a teacher, doll?”

“Do I look like a doll, Krinar?” she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest, which only served to make her delightful breasts pop up out of the tight, lacy top of her dress a little more.

He approved.

“Yes,” he replied, baring his teeth. “Yes, you do.”

And he had every intention of playing with his doll.

“They’ll all live.” Even the one he’d launched had got to his feet and scampered away. Under different circumstances, he might have chased him, and finished the job, but his attention was otherwise engaged. “As per your wishes.”

Zarken moved at an excruciating pace, doing his best to appear non-threatening to the woman whose pulse quickened as her lips and cheeks darkened. He stopped two feet away from her, reluctant to crowd her space the way her would-be assailants just had. Perfectly familiar with human customs, after studying her kind for the last month, he extended his hand. When she placed hers in his palm, a sudden and entirely unexpected charge coursed through his body, shooting straight to his loins.

He’d known they had chemistry at first sight, but he hadn’t expected that reaction from the most innocent touch.

How fascinating.

He lifted her hand up to his lips, and dropped a brief kiss on the back of her palm, smirking as he saw, smelled, and felt her arousal. Despite a healthy dose of fear, the woman wanted him. Normally, some of his interested dwindled when he realized he wouldn’t need to work for it, but to his surprise, he found himself pleased.

“May I, sweetest doll?”

She took an intake of breath without saying a word. She didn’t need to. Zarken closed the space between them, lodging his leg between her thighs and pushing it to the apex, inciting a deep moan from her perfect mouth.

“So gorgeous,” he whispered against her ear, taking his time to scent the aroma of her naked neck, before dropping his lips to its nape, while caressing her lower folds.

Without any volition, he found himself pushing his hardened cock against her stomach, letting her feel it through their layers of clothing. She moaned in response.

“I, I…” she stammered when his lips got an inch away from hers.

“Yes?”

His free hand ran down her arm, her leg, and played with the hem of her skirt, before sliding underneath the material, touching her naked skin. His cock twitched as he felt a flimsy, soft piece of fabric and pushed it aside.

“We’re… in a club, in public…”

“Have you ever come in public, doll?”

She would.

His fingers got to her wet, glistening center just as he pressed his lips to hers and devoured her moans.

Her pussy was so slick, hot, and wet. He buried a finger deep inside, and explored each corner, circling her clit with his thumb and fucking her mouth with his tongue.

She panted, moving her hips against him, feeling her release ever so close.

There. There it was. Finally, at long last, her muscles relaxed and she covered his hand with her cum.

Chuckling, he removed his hand.

“Zarken,” he introduced himself, and she blinked in blissful, post-orgasmic confusion. “That would be my name.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “I’m- er, oh God, I didn’t even know your name and we just, I just…” she breathed out hard, and tried again. “Eva. I’m called Eva.”

Humans also had a surname, and Zarken almost asked for hers, before thinking better of it. Why did it matter? He now knew what to call her while he pulled her hair and pounded her from behind tonight - beyond that, she was of no relevance whatsoever.

If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he’d be bored before morning.

People say Eva’s a little ditzy, when they want to be nice. Truth is, she’s a magnet for trouble and she wouldn’t know what caution looks like if she bumped into it.

But even she knows the delicious hunk she meets at the club is dangerous; he might have saved her once, but he could as easily destroy her and no one could do a thing about it. His kind is above reproach, above the laws, above humanity.

She should stay away.

She won’t.

After thousands upon thousands of years, seeing empires rise and fall, Zarken is indifferent to everything, and entirely focused on his work.

Until her.