Arak let her digest his comment for a moment. Tears he’d caused pooled in her eyes. Her mouth formed an O as his meaning sank in. “We just met,” he said. “But I don’t require a long time to make a decision. I wanted you the moment I saw you. However, while I am certain, you need to come to grips with what it will mean to be my charl. I’m giving you the time. For now, you’re my lover, the woman I’m going to bring to my dwelling after dinner and fuck senseless, and fuck senseless every single day hereafter.”
It required all his willpower to keep from bending her over the table in the restaurant. His hard cock ached. Desire had taunted him since she’d opened her apartment door, wearing that sexy dress. Teasing her to orgasm had worsened his condition. But he didn’t just want her physically. He desired both body and mind: her laughter, her smiles, her moans of pleasure, her thoughts when she wasn’t with him, which wouldn’t be very often. He would make her his charl because she was his mate. No other woman could replace her.
“You’re mine. I own you. I’m going to fuck your pretty mouth, your tight little pussy, your tighter ass. I’m going to take you every way a man can take a woman. I’m going to imprint myself on you so you remember every second who you belong to. And I’m going to care for you and cherish you and protect you.”
Her jaw dropped, and her eyes grew as large as saucers, but they were no longer filled with tears. “People don’t own other people,” she said, her protest belied by the arousal he could smell.
He bit off a groan and motioned with his head to the returning waiter. “Our food is arriving. Let’s eat.”
First came the salad, a mix of “greens” in deep purples and reds and fragrant, sweet flower petals dressed with citrus and nut oil. A basket of bread from grains imported from Krina complemented the course.
After the salad, the waiter served a thick vegetable cream soup before bringing the entrée: marinated roasted corcha, one of the varieties of meaty vegetables he’d told her about. It included two accompaniments: a purple root vegetable sliced into thin strips and sautéed, and a side of fruit.
Caitlyn forked off a bit of the corcha and chewed. Her eyes twinkled. “Tastes like chicken.”
“You think so?”
She giggled. “No. I can’t compare the flavor to anything, except it is meaty. I like it.”
“I’m glad.” Every aspect of his world and culture that she found positive would build trust. He’d seduced her, used her body’s reaction to storm past her defenses so she wouldn’t have time to think about her actions, to refuse him. He had no intention of letting up on the siege.
“You’re not eating much,” she observed.
No, he picked at his meal. He didn’t hunger for food, but he was captivated by her response to the unfamiliar cuisine: hesitancy, surprise, and then pleasure. The emotions reminded him of her reaction to his pursuit. So much had transpired since morning, it seemed like a long time ago. “I’m enjoying your reactions,” he said.
The waiter delivered the coda to the meal, dessert. She sampled the creamy wedge set before her. The surprised then accusatory glare she leveled at him was priceless. “This is cheesecake.”
The jungle’s humidity had caused her hair to curl about her face, and it framed her pretty features. She was like an artist’s glass figurine, fragile, delicate, a work of beauty to be protected. “Some earth things are perfect the way they are,” he said hoarsely.
She blushed, catching onto his meaning. Would he ever stop associating that rosy hue with sex? Probably not. It occurred to him he might be one of the people she needed protection from. Humans had an apropos saying: the wolf was watching the henhouse.
She finished her dessert by licking her lips, the glimpse of her tongue driving him crazy.
“Would you like anything else?” he asked.
“No, thank you,” she replied, to his great relief.
He guided her through the restaurant with a hand placed at the small of her back, unable to resist caressing her. Her breath hitched, revealing she was not immune to him, and his already-considerable need spiked.
Outside, he picked her up. She didn’t protest this time, but relaxed, wrapping her arms around his neck. She pressed a kiss to his throat, and he growled. “Caitlyn…”
“Arak…”
“Be good.”
“I’ll be very good,” she purred.
He didn’t know whether to laugh, scold her, or fuck her. The minx was practicing her feminine wiles. Little did she realize she only had to breathe—to smile, to exist—to turn him on.
He carried her to his house, one of the pale-green domed residential structures. Business required his presence in LA, but, every chance he got, he returned to Lenkarda, a tiny bit of Krina on Earth.
Keyed to his DNA, the house let him in and switched on the lights. She stared unabashedly. Comfortable body-conforming sofas in white and gray squared off in a sunken living room. A few occasional tables took up some space, but, overall, the style was minimalist. Why maintain a house full of furniture when nanotechnology could create what he needed when he needed it?
He let Caitlyn slide down his body so his erection pressed against her. Her touch lingered on his biceps before she stepped away to study his home.
“What’s that?” She pointed at his lytherine, which he enjoyed playing in his downtime.
“It is a musical instrument.”
“You play it?”
“When I get the chance.” The lytherine had belonged to his father, and his grandfather before him. Arak had brought it with him to Earth. He could have replicated it, but it wouldn’t have been the same. He’d hadn’t understood his sentimental attachment to an object until he met humans and discovered they got similarly attached to antiques, mementos, and heirlooms. If Caitlyn’s pendant had belonged to her grandmother, he would have felt terrible for destroying it. Of course, had it been a pendant, there would have been no need to destroy it.
He was pretty sure she’d given up the idea of an exposé, but time would tell, and it didn’t affect his desire for her.
She glanced around with obvious curiosity, but he hadn’t brought her here to show off his dwelling. He tugged on her arm. Teetering on her unsuitable shoes, she fell into him. He kissed her.
She moaned, opening her mouth to meet his plundering tongue with the thrust of hers. She squeaked as her feet left the floor when he hauled her into his arms. He groaned when she locked her heels around his hips, pressing her mound against his aching erection. His hands tangled in her hair. His need for her was like an empty vessel; only her soft lips and exotic taste could complete him.
He carried her into his bedroom and set her beside the bed. Kneeling, he grabbed her ankle and unhooked the straps of her sandals. Her toenails were painted pink like the candy spun from sugar. She grabbed his shoulder for balance, her simple touch burning through his shirt to brand his skin. He dispensed with her shoes with deliberate slowness. When his control broke—he didn’t know how long he could hold out—there would be no gentle persuasion, no seduction, no teasing play, just a hot, pounding, dirty fucking.
He tossed her flimsy footwear aside. The heels were dangerous for a jungle hike, which he’d recognized as soon he’d spotted them, but the inappropriate footwear had handed him the perfect excuse to keep her in his arms. He massaged her insteps, pressing his thumbs into the arches and over the ball of her foot.
Her eyes closed. “You could do that all night.”
“I’m more interested in other parts of your body.” He set her foot down.
As he stood, he grabbed the hem of her dress and whisked the garment up and over her head. A bra of lavender lace cupped her breasts and offered a peekaboo view of rosy nipples. The tiny matching thong covered even less of her mound. The tantalizing glimpse of her pink flesh inflamed his senses. His cock strained the zipper of his trousers, the urge to fuck her, growing insistent.
“Very pretty,” he growled and stood back to savor the image.
She fidgeted, swinging her arms as if to cover her breasts, but then dropped them to her sides. “What are you doing?”
“Enjoying the view,” he said, but captured her face between his hands and kissed her hard. She was sweetness and surrender wrapped up in a soft, lush human package. His desire. His downfall if he wasn’t careful. Stretched on tiptoes, she clung to him. Her lips felt like velvet, and tasted like wine. He tore his mouth away to capture a nipple. With teeth and tongue, he teased it to hardness before anointing the other.
“Lie down,” he said hoarsely.
Like a sacrifice, an offering to his lust, she reclined on her back, her hair fanning over his pillow, her lips and nipples already blushing from his kisses, her pussy releasing the seductive scent of her arousal. Mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to keep.
She looked so perfect, so delicate, and so innocent. Krinar placed no special significance on virginity, yet the fact he’d been the only man to fuck her filled him with primal satisfaction.
“Do I scare you?” he asked.
She wet her swollen, rosy lips. “N-no.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want that.”
If she comprehended the depth of his desire, the degree of his possessiveness, she would be frightened. Any human would be. Her comfort came from ignorance, and he wasn’t noble enough to enlighten her.
Arak stripped, undoing his clothing with an efficient economy of motion, employing the mundanity of the task to rein in his lust. Barely. His clothing was of Earth design and construction, but his boots were Krinar, and molded his feet, adjusting for all terrain. He removed them then unzipped and peeled off his pants. He’d gone commando, an apt word the humans had coined. His erection thrust upward, the smooth cap already slickened with his arousal.
She took a turn at studying him, and her eyes lingered on his cock, inches away, before traveling upward to meet his gaze. “You’re beautiful,” she said.
“You’re fanciful.”
“A man can’t be beautiful?” She licked her lips, and he couldn’t wait another second for her mouth on his body.
“Show me how beautiful you think I am. Suck me.”
She scooted closer to the bed’s edge and pressed a light kiss to the crown. Her tongue darted out to lick at the essence seeping from the tip. He grabbed a handful of her hair. “Don’t tease.”
Her lips parted, and he thrust clear to the back of her throat. Teeth scraped his shaft, but the sting intensified his need. Her mouth was so wet, so hot, and he could feel the brush of her little tongue as he plunged and withdrew. She peered at him, her eyes glowing with desire, eager to please. Her technique was avid, but inexpert, betraying her inexperience with fellatio, and that little detail thrilled him. Teaching her would be his pleasure. For now, her experience wasn’t required anyway. He controlled the event, or at least his body did. Blood pounded in his veins, in his head, spilled over into his vision, and filled his ears with a roar. He should be gentle, but couldn’t. His hips moved, and he thrust harder, faster, stronger.
Muscles tensed, pressure swelled. She closed her lips tighter and sucked. She could only accommodate a small portion of his cock, but her hands made up for the difference. She closed her fist around his shaft and pumped. The coil of lust snapped. He dug his fingers into her scalp, needing her to take his cum, needing to fill the vessel of her mouth, needing to claim her, to mark her.
Growling, body convulsing, he spilled himself.
Arak planted a hand against the wall, his chest heaving. His other hand had her hair wrapped around it, and he released it so she could pull away. Desire, far from sated, had at least become manageable. Unlike human men, Ks didn’t need recovery time. They could be ready to fuck again immediately. And, with Caitlyn, he was in a constant state of need.
Her eyes gleamed with the awareness of her power.
“Proud of yourself, are you?” He faked a level voice. His heart thundered.
She smiled.
Arak climbed onto the bed and loomed over her, forcing her onto her back. He plundered her mouth with all the desire still coursing through him. Moaning and arching, she kissed him back. He dragged his mouth to her throat, feeling the tattoo of her pulse, of her rich blood coursing through her veins, a temptation of its own. Later, he promised himself. Later, he would drink from her.
He rolled her nipples between his fingers, watching arousal play over her face. He tugged and pinched before lowering his head to tease them with his teeth. He bit just so, then licked away the sting.
She clutched his hair while whimpers of pleasure escaped her lips.
The tantalizing bloom of her arousal beckoned. He trailed searing kisses and hot whispers of need over her body. Between her legs, the petals of her sex were slick and swollen, her clit engorged. Her heady perfume filled his senses. He massaged, heightening her desire, before pushing a digit inside her.
He groaned at the wetness spilling over his hand, at the tight grip of her channel. Positioned between her legs, he nuzzled her pussy, flicking his tongue over her clit then dragging it through her furrow to spear into her entrance. Her taste exploded in his mouth, and he licked and sucked, bringing her to orgasm. He watched as the sex flush spread over her chest, her neck, her face, turning her that delicate shade of pink he loved so much. Her eyes screwed shut, and her mouth fell open. She bowed her neck and cried out.
He rose up, unable to wait, and, while her body shuddered, he thrust into her, driving his cock deep and hard into her core. “Take me. All of me,” he bit out. Her pussy tightened and fluttered around him, and he adjusted his thrusts to catch her clit on each inward stroke then grazed against it again on the outbound.
“Oh god, Arak…Arak…” Her mouth fell open. She dug her nails into his shoulder.
“Come for me, again,” he growled. “I command it.” He reached between their bodies and manipulated the bundle of nerves. “Now.” He thrust. “Come. Come for me.”
She cried out. Her pussy shuddered and contracted. Satisfaction arced. Triumph surged on a wave of lust. He dove into her and let his own orgasm take him a second time. His muscles corded. The base of his penis contracted. He emptied himself, dying and rising in the same moment.
For him, there would never be another. She was all that existed.
* * * *
Cuddled in Arak’s embrace, a bemused Caitlyn floated on a cloud of well-being. She had no qualifications from which to judge, but she had a feeling the level of ecstasy and connection she experienced with Arak exceeded the norm. His lovemaking was rough and tender, demanding and coaxing, controlled and unrestrained. One caress and she soared; one growled command and her body obeyed.
Her jaw ached a little from his girth, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. His body had shuddered and bucked under her touch—she, mousy, inexperienced Caitlin Meadows had driven a man—a powerful K, no less—to lose control. She had brought him pleasure. Previously, the idea of a man ejaculating in her mouth had seemed distasteful, but, with Arak, she wanted it to happen. He’d tasted like he smelled: spicy, exotic, indescribable. As he’d filled her mouth, she’d almost climaxed herself. Could his ejaculate be an aphrodisiac?
Could he tell she’d never performed fellatio before? Everything she did with Arak was new—and exceeded all her fantasies. She touched her lips, swollen from his ravishing kisses and slightly numb from the pressure of his huge erection.
“Are you all right?” His voice rumbled in her ear.
“Wonderful.” His concern, even if unnecessary, warmed her. Arak didn’t hesitate to take what he wanted, yet he wasn’t without conscience. She’d never realized she had a submissive side that thrived under a man’s dominance. Maybe that explained why the Ks had enthralled her from the beginning.
Her pulse had raced when the handsome, powerful, supremely intelligent Krinar leaders had announced their presence on national television. Fear and loathing, she’d thought. Now, she realized it had been fascination.
From that moment, she’d immersed herself in the study of Krina, becoming almost a K stalker—from afar. She hadn’t had the courage to approach one. Until this job, and Arak.
She smoothed her hand over his chest. He didn’t have the beefy caveman look so many steroid-infused bodybuilders had, but every muscle in his torso was toned, taut, and defined. There wasn’t an excess ounce of fat on him. His body was perfect; and Krinar women resembled swimsuit models.
Not so her. She had youth on her side, but her body could not compare.
“Why do you like me?” She shifted her head on his shoulder and peered up at him. “Why me? I’m not beautiful like your women. Or as intelligent.”
Amber eyes turned intense. “Simple answer: because you’re mine. But, if you need a better explanation—you are beautiful—and intelligent. Age wise, you’re a baby compared to us Ks, but freshness has its appeal. You’re not jaded. Your curiosity is charming. It’s a pleasure to see the world through your eyes, to introduce you to things you’ve only imagined. You make me feel more alive. I see you, and I want you, immensely and intensely.” He paused. “Does that answer your question?”
In spades. She didn’t know how to respond, so she nodded.
“Good. Now, I want you again.”
She’d swear she never saw him move, but she found herself pinned under his weight. His head descended, and he kissed her again, his ravishing caresses eliciting an immediate response from her well-loved body. Arak nipped at her throat with tiny love bites, his nibbles awakening a curious aching, like there should be more somehow.
She heard the whispered gossip that the Ks’ ancestors had been vampires who’d drunk blood to survive, and while they’d mastered the physical need, they still took blood for the pleasure it brought them. Like everything else she’d heard, it should have horrified her. Instead, it fascinated her. She bared her neck. Bite me. Bite me, Arak.
She didn’t have the nerve to ask him. If the rumors were wrong—as gossip often was—he might be offended or think she was a nut job. Arak continued with his light nibbles over her throat, her shoulders, her breasts. If his teeth seemed a little sharper, his bites a little harder, well, she was certain it was all in her head.
Desire coiled hot and tight as he stroked sensitive tissues. She’d become hyperaware of her body and its arousal; everything between her legs seemed swollen and achy.
His cock brushed against her leg, and again, she couldn’t help but marvel at the enormity of him—marvel that her body could accommodate his erection. The initial penetration brought a tinge of pain—and, afterward, her pussy was sore—but everything in between more than made up for it.
He did some gesture with his hand then he rolled her onto her stomach, nipping her neck, not breaking the skin, but sharp enough to send a thrill careening through her.
Bite me, Arak.
Another rumor had said the Ks could read minds. That certainly wasn’t true, because Arak ignored her plea and licked a trail the length of her spine. Firm hands kneaded her butt cheeks.
“Your ass is mine,” he growled.
His possessiveness shot a bolt of ecstasy into her core.
“Yes, Arak,” she said, getting the impression he expected an answer.
He released her then and leaned over and reached for a slim silver tube on the bedside table. The size of a lipstick, it tapered at one end but flared out at the other. She would have sworn the bed stand had been empty, but then remembered how he’d waved his hand moments earlier. He must have created the little object, and, all of a sudden, she realized what it was. Her breath hitched. “Arak…uh…”
He said nothing, but parted her butt cheeks and slid the object into her bottom. She’d expected it to be cold and hard and cause pain, but it was warm and caused tingles.
He nudged her. “On your hands and knees,” he ordered.
She obeyed, feeling the object inside her vibrate and grow larger. Sensations went wild. Her heart was fluttering as if she’d run a race, when Arak scooted his face underneath her and pulled her down to his mouth.
He brought her to another shattering orgasm, this one even stronger with the object in her bottom growing and pulsing. She was still shaking from her climax when he removed the vibe from her body. Though she’d felt it increasing in size, she was shocked at how much larger it had gotten—but her analysis ceased when Arak guided his cock to her entrance. Pressing into her, he breached her portal and rocked inside with gentle thrusts. She realized the object he’d used on her must have contained a lubricant.
Some pain, a lot of pressure, but enormous pleasure burgeoned. She whimpered at the unfamiliar, disturbing act, the riot of emotions: resistance, disbelief, acceptance of the inevitable. And pleasure. Oh god, the pleasure.
He filled her, and the independent person she recognized as Caitlyn dissolved. She became totally his. His to fuck, his to claim, his to command.
Arak gripped her waist as he thrust, and she moved with him, needing, needing, needing something she couldn’t name. He pressed his face into the crook of her neck. His breath was hot as he growled into her ear, “Now you’re mine.”
And then he bit down.
His teeth pierced her skin, her blood spilled out, and pleasure went supernova. Starbursts of light, heat, sensation exploded with agonizing ecstasy. As he drank, he pounded into her ass, touching off another intense, almost-painful orgasm, and she screamed.
Arak released her neck, and tossed his head and bellowed, the sound rocking the walls. His cock convulsed and then he was filling her up, coming forcefully and touching off another mind-blowing climax.
Emotions on overload, she sobbed when he released her body. He kissed away her tears, stroking her hair, calming her with his touch, before leaving the room. He returned to clean her with a scented cloth then pulled her into his arms.
“I thought the ecstasy was going to kill me,” she whispered. No wonder an orgasm was sometimes referred to as the little death.
Arak chuckled. “I would never let anything bad happen to you.”
“You bit me.” She clapped a hand to her neck. The fleeting sting had been followed by an incredible rapture that exceeded all her fantasies. Being bitten had ignited a cascade of climaxes.
He surveyed her face. “You’re…not upset?”
“Are you kidding? After ecstasy like that?” She twisted her neck to the side. “Go ahead, bite me.”
His lips twitched. “It doesn’t happen that way, but I appreciate the invitation.”
“Is it always so intense?”
“It’s very pleasurable for both parties,” he said.
“You didn’t bite me before,” she pointed out, her gaze riveted on his cock. He’d never lost his tumescence, and he was growing erect again. Her pussy twitched, her own arousal stirring again.
“No. It’s a very intimate, intense act—and if too much blood is taken, a human can become addicted to it—but I’ll be careful.”
“I trust you,” she said.
“Even though I’m one of the big, bad K invaders?” His tone was light, but she heard a hitch in his voice.
She rolled over and straddled him, scooting upward so she could peer at his face. Her heart melted at the vulnerability in his amber eyes. “Because you’re one of the invaders,” she said. “You’re not bad at all.” She waggled her eyebrows and shimmied her hips, pressing against his hard-on. “Big…is another matter.”
“That is such a bad joke…” In one fluid motion, he rolled her under him. His big, hard body pressed hers into the bed.
She giggled, and then moaned as he kissed her, and reawakened desire swept her away.
* * * *
A well-fucked Caitlyn was out like a light. Her lashes formed two crescents on her cheeks as she slept, oblivious to the world. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he tugged the cover off. He could see much better than humans in the dark, but he waved his hand and raised the light levels a notch.
Mine. And he was hers. It had floored him to hear her say she trusted him.
His need had been so great, he hadn’t been gentle with her, but she hadn’t protested, had seemed to enjoy the fucking all the more. His lovemaking had left its traces in some light abrasions and bruising, raising equal parts satisfaction and disgust.
Before she’d fallen asleep, he’d insisted she insert the medicines Ellet had given her. Caitlyn had refused until he’d made it plain if she didn’t do it herself, he would do it for her. Why using the medication would embarrass her after everything they’d done together mystified him, but he wasn’t above pressing it to his advantage.
He needed to take care with her, handle her gently. Yet, inside, a need to claim her and mark her existed. He’d drunk from her, sealing their fates.
Who was he kidding? Their futures had been linked the moment he saw her. There would never be another for him. If anything happened to her, he would never take another mate.
He grabbed a tiny silver cellular healing device and ran it along her inner thighs, over her breasts and her throat, reversing the dermal abrasions and bruising. Then he donned his clothing, grabbed hers, and stuffed them and her ridiculous shoes into a pack. Wrapping Caitlyn in the covering from the bed, he picked her up.
Her head lolled against his shoulder, and she murmured. With a sleeping Caitlyn in his arms, he marched along the jungle path to the clearing where the vehicle materialized. He settled her inside and then took his seat.
They pulled up alongside her apartment within minutes. In the wee hours of the morning, the streets were deserted, except for a few young punks up to no good. They eyed him with calculation then must have decided he added up to trouble because they ran off.
He carried her into her apartment and settled her into her own bed. He placed her things on a chair and inserted her phone in its charging station. She would be okay here for the night. Longer term? Other arrangements would be made.
Letting himself out of her unit, he secured all the locks and went home to his penthouse.