There was no way to determine what time it was when she woke up, and blearily, Stella realized that it wouldn’t matter anyway. There was no reason to think that the crew adhered to a twenty-four hour Earth day. Hell, for all she knew, they stayed up for a hundred hours at a time before sleeping for five.

It was oddly distressing to realize that not only were there no windows in the ship, but that there was no reason for there to be. There would be no sun to greet, no birds or people. There was only the darkness of the vacuum.

Zan still snored lightly at her side in the same position in which he had fallen last night, and Stella’s frustration returned. She needed to get answers, and as soon as Zan woke up, she was determined to do it.

Right now, however, he was out like a light, and as much as she was tempted to ‘shake and wake’ him, the conversation they were going to have was best done after he’d had a full sleep and recovered somewhat. Instead, Stella made her way to the little bathroom area, relieved to find that things worked much the way she thought they would.

In the shower, she couldn't find any soap, but when she turned on the spray hesitantly, she was rewarded with a jet of hot water, just cool enough to be tolerable. She rinsed herself off thoroughly, but then she noticed a little switch next to the tap. When she flipped it, the water sputtered slightly before changing abruptly in quality. She gasped for a moment because the texture of the water had somehow turned oddly thick, almost oily. It should have felt disgusting, but then she realized she could smell the slight wood smoke scent she had detected throughout the apartment. It must be the alien equivalent of soap. She hesitated for only a moment, before stepping back under the showerhead. After a rinse, the strange substance, she was left sparkling clean.

Of course, now that she was clean, the last thing that she wanted was to put her dirty clothes on again, at least at the moment. Well, if Grape Ape was going to kidnap her, that meant that he had to clothe her as well. It seemed only fair.

Zan was still sleeping when she poked her head into the bedroom, and for a moment, Stella allowed herself to be soothed by his steady breathing. She still had no idea what was happening to her, or how she was going to get out of this mess and get back to Earth. She felt as if she should have been more panicked, more afraid. Perhaps she was in a state of semi-denial. Yes, that might well be it. She was suppressing the fear somewhere underneath the calm, and it would all come boiling out later.

Right now, though, she needed clothes.

She padded softly to the wardrobe in the corner, and she inspected the clothing she found inside. There was nothing that would fit her, of course, but surely there was something she could borrow. Rifling through the clothes hung up inside, she saw a something that looked like a breastplate made out of a thousand small glimmering green scales, and more tunics of the kind that she had seen Zan wearing earlier.

Impulsively, Stella pressed her face against the clean clothes where they hung in the closet. There was the faint wood smoke scent again. it was becoming inextricably linked in her mind with the man who was sleeping just a few feet away. She found herself nearly overwhelmed with the urge to climb back in bed with Zan.

Sometimes, even I don't know what I'm thinking, she thought ruefully before turning back to the closet.

She was startled to find something towards the back of the wardrobe that was in her size, but when she tugged it out, she made a face. It was flimsy and transparent, a particularly vibrant shade of turquoise. It was less a nightgown than it was a piece of underwear, and there was a fringe of what felt like cheap white fur all the way around the hem. It was obviously not meant for the commander of the Righel. No, it was feminine and much too small. It surprised the hell out of her when a surge of jealousy shot through her, and Stella grimly thought that she would far rather go naked than wear that thing.

She shoved it to the back of the wardrobe, and in the end, she found a soft beige shirt, sleeveless like so many of the other tops in the wardrobe were. Unlike the others, which were designed for heavy use and outdoor wear, this tunic was soft to the touch, more like a light suede or velvet. When she shrugged it on, it fell past her knees, but it was perfectly comfortable, even with no underwear on underneath.

Stella was just wondering what she should do next when there was a soft chime at the door. For a moment, she wondered if she should wake Zan, but then the door slid open, and an enormously tall figure stepped in carefully, carrying a covered tray.

“Uh, hello,” Stella said softly, suddenly more aware than she had been a moment before that she was entirely naked underneath her borrowed tunic. “Are you the nurse?”

“No, not at all,” said the alien with a chuckle. “I'm Kall, the cook's assistant.”

Kall had to be at least four or five inches little taller than Zan, but he was terribly thin. There was a ruff of green feathers around his neck and his shoulders, and though his face was fairly human in some respects, his nose and mouth jutted forward in a beak-like fashion and his eyes were like black oil drops. Despite his strange looks though, he appeared kind, regarding Stella with politeness and courtesy.

“I see the commander is still asleep. Shall I set it on the table here?”

It took Stella a moment to realize that she was being addressed.

“Oh, um, me? I guess do whatever you would do with it if I weren't here...”

Kall shook his bald head, his ruff raising a little as he did so.

“It is a meal for you and for the commander both.”

“Oh, thank you, that sounds amazing, I'm so hungry...”

She hadn't noticed the hunger gnawing at her belly until the mention of food, but once she did, it was impossible to ignore. She hadn't eaten since well before she met up with the Righel and its commander.

Kall drew off the cover of the food, and Stella examined it with interest. There were thin, delicate slices of some kind of meat, as well as a white tuber drizzled with a nearly black sauce, and there was a pile of something that looked a great deal like carrots if carrots were a soft indigo.

“This looks—amazing,” she smiled at Kall. “Maybe you could tell me a little more about what it is I’ll be eating? I'm new here, you see, and I never thought I’d be eating anything from a planet other than Earth. There are actually so many different foods from around my own planet that I have yet to try...” It suddenly dawned on her that she may never again have the opportunity.

As it turned out, though, it was the exact right thing to ask. Kall had a passion for food that reminded Stella of Terani's passion for engines, and soon he was seated on the couch, telling her all about the fitfit plants that grew large, crisp white tubers under the ground, all connected to one another. He showed her how to slide the slices of bazdil meat under her tongue and slice of fitfit root on the top to get the most out of the mingling of both flavors, and try as she might, she had the hardest time getting the hang of it. She giggled when time and again, they fell aside.

“I guess I'll just have to enjoy this the human way,” she admitted, and Kall shook his head.

“No, that won't do, let me try...”

She opened her mouth wide to let him place the small slices of food into her mouth, but apparently they had been carved with someone larger in mind. Both of them giggled at the failed attempt, and that was when Zan appeared.

He didn't speak. He simply loomed in the doorway between the living room and the bedroom, utterly naked, brows furled with an expression of fury on his face.

Kall reacted first, lurching off of the couch, his ruff fully fluffed out in stress and alarm. He was stumbling over a mouthful of apologies, but none of it seemed to be getting through to Zan, who stalked closer.

Alarm rose in Stella’s throat. She was familiar with the look and the posturing. She’d seen it many a late Friday or Saturday night at work, guys who’d done a little too much imbibing and felt ten feet tall taking that stance right before the fists started flying. She couldn’t draw her eyes away from his manhood dangling heavily down his thigh, thick, and a slightly darker purple than the rest of his skin tone. She had a feeling, though, that any fight that Zan started was going to be far worse than anything a drunk frat boy could pull.

He reached for Kall, who was backing towards the door, and Stella knew that she had to act. She acted on instinct rather than anything rational, the same instinct that might have gotten her killed.

She wrapped her arms around Zan's waist, and laid her head against his firm chest. She could feel his breathing slow as he calmed slightly. She knew that if he truly wanted to go after Kall, that there would be nothing that she could do that would stop him, but for now he paused. That was all that mattered.

“Kall, I think you better go,” she said, and she was startled by how level her own voice was.

The cook's assistant looked between her and Zan nervously. Zan still never said a word, his eyes focused intently on Kall's face. For a moment, Stella thought that Kall would simply fall to pieces at the idea of even tacitly disobeying his commander, but with a quick and respectful salute, he ducked out. The doors closed with a hiss behind him, and Stella slumped back on the couch in relief. When Zan loomed over her, turning his dark eyes her way, she realized that her problems were far from over.

“What the hell were you doing with that piece of slime?”

“Don't call Kall that,” Stella said indignantly. “He was just showing me how to eat this food the kitchen sent up for—”

“It doesn't take long for you to get cozy with new males, does it?” bit out Zan. “I assume that you've had no trouble eating for years. I don't imagine that you need any help with it.”

Stella leaped to her feet, aware what a tenuous position she was in as a captive in Zan's world, but right now she was so spitting mad at his insensitive insult that she didn't care.

“How dare you!” she snapped. “Zan doesn't deserve that, and to be perfectly honest, neither do I! No such thing went on out there in the ten minutes that Kall spent telling me about fitfit plants, and if you can't believe that, you're the one with the utterly filthy mind!”

There was something about what she said that made an unholy light flare to life in Zan's eyes. It was so wild that she would have taken several steps back if she could. For a moment, she wondered if she had crossed some kind of line that she hadn't seen.

Instead, before she could even budge, Zan stepped forward and grabbed her, dragging her against his body so quickly she gasped.

“You have no idea what I am,” he said, and she wondered at the hint of bitterness that underlied his words before his mouth came crashing down on hers.

The kiss was meant to be a message, harsh, dominant, and claiming. Stella jumped when he thrust his tongue between her lips, forcing its way into her mouth. It was a kiss that was meant to make sure that she knew her place.

Stella refused.

She was aroused by him, no doubt, but she refused to let something that had been so passionate the night before be used today as a brute display of his power over her. Instead of submitting to his kiss and cowering away, she reached up with both hands, burying her fingers in his sleek purple hair. She held on to him as fiercely as he clung to her, and she returned his kiss with every bit of savagery and passion in her.

When she felt his heavy manhood stir against her, Stella realized that she had forgotten that he was naked. When she tried to pull back, however, he scooped her up in his arms.

“Zan, what are you doing?”

“What I wanted to do the moment I found you cowering in that bush,” he retorted, and he spun on his heel, striding back into the bedroom.

He dropped her on the enormous bed almost carelessly, and he stripped himself of the bandages that he had worn to sleep.

Despite their situation, Stella cried out, raising a hand to stop him. The wounds he had received had been severe if he needed bandages, but her cries died down when she saw the flesh revealed. There was a long and twisting scar underneath the bandages, and it showed a vivid white against his pale skin, but it was mostly healed, and she looked up at him awe.

“No one stand against the Ferexians in battle,” Zan said. “Nor in love.”

She wondered if the chip he had planted in her head had mistranslated something, because love seemed to be the wrong word, but then he was crawling onto the bed, swarming on top of her and pinning her down. Underneath her bare legs, the dark pelt over the mattress felt erotically luxurious. She looked up into the jewel-like eyes of the Righel's commander and she shivered.

“You are mine,” he growled, and he leaned down to press his lips against hers again.

There was still something intense and raw about the kiss, but the anger was gone, and almost in spite of herself, Stella found her body responding to it. It was as if seeing Zan’s jealousy for the first time had been a spark that lit up tinder deep inside her she had never been aware of, and every touch now was fanning the flames higher and higher.

When she reached up to throw her arms around him, however, Zan pulled away. He caught her narrow wrists in his hand and pinned them above her head, smiling to show very white teeth.

“Beautiful little hands,” he crooned. “You are going to be the death of me if I don't keep an eye on you...”

“What are you afraid of?” she asked breathlessly. “Big space commander afraid of a little Earth girl?”

Zan laughed at that, but she got no answer. Instead, he buried his face into her neck, his tongue laving along the artery there before rising up to tickle the curve of her ear. Stella reached for him again, forgetting that he held her captive. She might have moaned with dismay, but then his free hand was reaching down to tug up the hem of the tunic that she wore. Stella shivered as he revealed first her thighs and then her hips. She saw him glance down at her, and to her fascination, she saw his face darken, a light purplish flush suffusing his cheeks, his neck. She realized that it was a natural reaction to her nudity, and he glanced up at her with a slight smile.

“You are perfect,” he said, and finally releasing her arms, he bent down to graze his teeth over her round thighs. She watched him dreamily as the kisses sent her into a sensual haze. God above, but he was beautiful. His powerful body sprawled on the bed as if he were a feast to be enjoyed, and when she saw the rise of his erection, she could only lick her lips.

“We must rid you of these clothes,” Zan said suddenly.

Stella started to struggle up, tugging the tunic over her head, but then Zan pushed her back down. Instead of pulling his tunic off of her, however, he simply gathered two great handfuls of the fabric and gave a yank. The fabric gave way with a rough purring sound, leaving Stella in a welter of pretty rags that had once been a garment and as naked as the day she was born.

She cried in surprise, and Zan smirked a little. “Well, the sight is certainly worth the loss of one of my favorite shirts.”

She started to tell him that that was no one's fault but his own, but then he stretched out over her, his face pressed against her shoulder for a moment before he started kissing her again. All of the anger from the moments before had been replaced with a great and inquisitive passion, and his mouth was gentler as he kissed and licked her body.

She couldn't keep her hands off him when he came to her breasts. As he suckled fiercely on one nipple and then the other, she buried her fingers in his hair, tugging lightly and trying to express how very much she needed him, how much she needed this.

“Ancestors, but you are perfect...”

Stella started to respond, but then she felt his hand reach down between her legs. She hadn't even noticed that they had parted, but now his fingers were slipping along the slit there, down to the opening to explore her wetness and then up to glide that wetness over her most sensitive flesh.

He kept his touch light at first, and distantly, in some untouched area of her mind, Stella realized that he was learning her responses. Zan had called her dainty before, and she wondered if the women of his kind were as big as he was, how she looked in comparison. She started to tell him that she wouldn't break if he got a little rougher, and then he eased a finger inside her. Even that small amount of penetration made her gasp, and then his thumb slid over her clit as his finger thrust deeper.

Without willing herself to motion, Stella arched her hips up towards him, a begging whine escaping her lips.

“Oh,” she whimpered, “Oh God, that's amazing...”

“You are so wet,” Zan whispered against her lips, a dangerous note in his voice. “How ready for me you are becoming...”

“Then take me,” she moaned, and her mind felt as if it were hijacked by the vision of Zan on top of her, thrusting deeper and deeper with every motion.

Zan's laugh was ragged but there was a piratical determination to it, a need to be the victor.

“Not until you climax,” he growled. “I want to see you soak my hand. I want to see you wrenched with pleasure so intense you cry out. I want you sobbing with your release, and only then will I take you...”

He slid another finger inside her, pressing harder on her clit, and Stella nearly levitated off of the bed. Her reaching hands went down to latch onto the sheets, and she dug her heels into the fur, lifting herself up to try to get more of his touch.

He was thrusting his fingers into her faster now, and she could feel the strength of his arm. She felt as if her body was tensing up tight, every muscle straining towards a relief that only he could give her. Stella could hear him murmuring her name, telling her how very beautiful she was like this, and that tension in her core wound up tighter and tighter.

“I want you so much,” she sobbed. “So very much, please, Zan, please!”

She heard him groan, thrusting his fingers in hard while fondling her clit, and then she gave up to the pleasure that was tearing her apart. The sensations that he had stirred in her were rising up in rebellion of all the years she had let them lie fallow.

“Oh! Zan!”

She twisted against his hand, her body moving of its own volition. Her hands opened and closed on nothing, and though her eyes were open, she was looking at nothing.

It took her several minutes to come down from the peak of her need. Her body uncurled, her spine and muscles relaxed, and she could at last look at Zan, aware that she was red and glistening with sweat.

She started to say something, and then he flex his fingers inside her. It was the gentlest motion, but it sent butterflies skirting through her again, making her groan.

“Oh Zan, please, you can't... you can't do that to me...”

“I'm the commander of the Righel,” he said teasingly. “No one on this ship says no to me.”

Despite his boastful words, however, he pulled his fingers from her and rolled up to take her in his arms. This was a pleasure of a different sort, she thought. It was warmth and sweetness, and gentle words murmured into her ear as she slowly relaxed.

She glanced down guiltily at his still-hard member. Zan laughed at her wide eyes before leaning over to kiss her.

“Don't worry, little star. I will be very gentle with you, even, perhaps, when you don't wish me to be.”

She was still trying to puzzle that over when he leaned down to kiss her more deeply, and his hand slid over her belly.

It occurred to Stella that maybe she should protest. After all, she was a captive in this place and of this man. If she was giving advice to someone in this situation rather than being a part of it, she would have told the person in question to run. However, running was the last thing on her mind, and under Zan's tender mouth, the last of her protests melted away.

“I am going to take very, very good care of you, upra-sa,” he murmured, and she had only a moment to wonder what in the world he meant by that before he was lifting her up. Stella squeaked as he took her firmly by the hips, rolling her so that she straddled his thighs. His fierce strength took her breath away. She had never been handled like this before, as if she were as light as a feather.

She found herself looking down on him, and the desire on his face was so intense it nearly made her faint. There was so much need there that surely he could not expect her to fulfill it...

“We are going to take this very slow because the last thing that I want to do is to hurt you,” he murmured. “I've waited for you all my life, and I can wait for a little while longer...”

She started to ask what he meant, but then his hands were on her hips again, causing her to fall gently towards him. She sprawled over his broad chest, and she could feel him lift her so that the iron-silk length of him was directly against her slit, but instead of bringing her down on him, he simply lifted his hips slightly, grinding against her.

“I want you to want me,” he said, and there was a note of truth to his voice she wasn't sure she had heard before. “I need it...”

She started to ask what he meant, but then he was raising her slightly so that he was barely touching her at all. Though she would have said that she was exhausted, it awoke the need that had only been sated a few minutes earlier. She bit her lip, worried about his size, worried about being sore, but that was less important than the way Zan's body felt underneath hers.

His broad chest felt so very strong. She traced a nipple and toyed with it absently as he rhythmically stroked their sexes together. She knew that she was affecting him because when she pinched lightly, he gasped, eyes fluttering shut.

“So beautiful,” Zan muttered admiringly. “I won't take you until you want me...”

She could have shouted that she wanted him right then and there, but he refused to do more than tease her with his body. His hands were like steel bands, and it only took Stella a few moments before she realized that she couldn't bring herself down on his body. Whenever she strained to take him, his hands held her away, and she whimpered, a high and soft sound.

“I think you are almost there,” Zan teased.

“I am, you tease,” she whispered.

“I am not so sure,” he murmured in response, circling his hips against her again, and she groaned with need.

She thought that this was how she was going to die, expired from sheer sexual frustration. Yet she couldn't budge him, no matter how hard she wiggled or strained. She was on the verge of screaming when she sensed a change in Zan's body. One moment, he was teasing her, ready to drive her to distraction, and the next he was bringing her down on him, sheathing himself entirely in her with a groan.

Stella gasped in shock at the sensation of being filled so completely. Her eyes fluttered shut, and then she realized that Zan had frozen.

“Are you all right?” he asked through gritted teeth, and when she opened her eyes, Stella was surprised to see such a look of concern on his face. Zan's entire body was shaking, and she realized it was from the effort of holding himself back. Seeing the way she affected him was delicious, and she nodded.

“Yes, yes,” she murmured. When he still looked hesitant, she ran her fingers over the hard line of his mouth. “I want you. Please.”

That was all the reassurance he needed. One moment Zan was desperate to hold himself still for her benefit, and the next he was thrusting up into her while he brought her body down to meet his. The sense of being controlled and completed was intense, and that was before he rolled her underneath him, their bodies still connected.

Zan set a pace that was nearly punishing, his body slamming into hers, and with every thrust, Stella rose to meet him. God, he was like a rolling thunderstorm. That was the only way she could think to describe his movements.

Zan was all heat, all need, all wild, untamed and when he grasped her tight and thrust into her one last time, she couldn't hold herself back. Her second orgasm rocked through her body, making her cry out and cling to him as he hovered over her. She could feel his release flooding into her, and the brief alarm was quickly overwhelmed by how simply right it felt, how good it was.

Claimed, her mind provided, though she didn't understand why.

They rested together. Zan held his weight off of her, and after a moment, he rolled them to their sides. He was softening, but remained inside her, and Stella felt a deep and abiding warmth running through her.

This is amazing, she thought dreamily, and the sheer inappropriate nature of that thought made her jerk.

No, this was not wonderful. She had been kidnapped by an alien crew that engaged in some kind of violent activity, she had been locked in a room for what might be as long as two days, and she had just had unprotected sex with her kidnapper.

As reality swept over her in almost a panic, she pushed away from Zan and scrambled to her feet. Some lingering remnant of modesty told her to wrap her arms around herself, but why the hell should she? He had already seen it all.

“Stella? What's the matter?”

“What’s the matter? What isn't the matter?” she demanded, her voice rising. “You kidnapped me. I had sex with you, and I don't know anything about you! I am farther away from Earth than I think any human has ever been before. I don't... I don't…”

Stella was so flummoxed that she could barely finish a though coherently. When Zan sat up in bed to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, she shook him off with rage. What right did he have to be comforting when he was the one who had caused all this?

“I don't know what's going on, and it's driving me crazy!”

Zan sighed, but she could tell it was a sigh of regret and not impatience.

“Let's... let's get cleaned up and dressed again. I have some things that I need to tell you.”

“Damn straight you do,” she snapped.