Alien, Mine (36 page)

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Authors: Sandra Harris

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She took a step closer and reached for one of his hands. She lifted his palm to a breast and, her own small hand over his, urged him to mould and stroke her. Her head fell back and her eyes closed. A groan of intense desire ripped from the centre of his being as she took her pleasure from him. He struggled to maintain a rigid stance. Her lids raised on eyes heavy with sensual promise.

She smiled and reached for his other hand then drew him toward her as she backed away. In the doorway to their sleeping chamber, she halted.

“Get a good hold of the architrave, dear,” she instructed.

He gripped the ornamental moulding of the doorway and gazed down at her. Stretched out like an offering to a pagan goddess, he had never felt so aroused in his life. Her gentle touch on his extended body triggered an avalanche of molten rapture through his quivering muscles. Frissons of erotic delight cascaded over his skin and skipped down his nerves.

With tormenting slowness, her lips teased the outline of his every profiled muscle. Bolts of craving zapped through his system. Her caresses became possessive, blanketing his torso with soft bombardments of desire. His hands clenched so tightly he had no doubt he’d scored the wood above the door.

His chest rose, hard and fast, before she began a slow, enthralling, torturous journey downward. Her tongue slicked across his lower abdomen, teasing spears of anticipation arrowed straight into his engorged arousal. A groan of exquisite pain sang from his throat. The petal softness of her cheek brushed his shaft while her soft, auburn locks tormented his sensitive head.

The sight of her preparing to confer the most ardent of kisses almost buckled his knees. Every inch of his skin blazed with erotic pleasure and pleaded for submission. He ground his teeth together and commanded his body not to erupt.

The first lick of her tongue almost reduced him to cinders. She probed over his ridge, her teeth sliding over the crest, the unrelenting suction ripping pulsing waves of pleasure from his very core. His breath caught in his throat and his back arched as every fibre of his being focused on the intense bliss welling in his body. He tried to speak, to warn her that this would end soon if she didn’t stop, but all he managed was a strangled moan.

Sandrea heard Eugen’s beseeching warning and eased her caress. She savoured the taste and texture of him on a slow withdrawal, then ran her hands over the bunched muscle of his thighs and rose. A smile of pure love sat with profound serenity on her lips.

“Keep your hands where I can see them, Eugen,” she said, and let him make what he would of that order.

His palms captured her breasts as she manoeuvred him back and down into a reclining chair. She pushed his shoulders and he half-sat, half-lay at her mercy. Her eyes drank in the play and ripple of muscle over his chest and abdomen. She leaned into the strong, gentle hands that captured her flesh, let her teeth rake over the skin of his neck, and straddled his thighs.

“I love you from the depths of my soul, Eugen Mhartak,” she breathed into his open mouth.

One of his hands snaked up to thread into her hair.

“You are the light of my life, dear heart,” he murmured before claiming her mouth with toe-curling passion.

Her back arched and Eugen’s lips trailed down her body. His lips closed over a nipple, declared ownership. The suctioning tug of his mouth pierced her with sharp, exquisite sensations and her eyes closed to revel in their splendour. His hands gripped her hips, hoisting her up to hover with tantalizing seduction over the broad crown of his desire.

“Oh, Eugen,” she breathed, and he thrust upward, expanding her tight centre with burgeoning heat and strength.

She rocked on him, rode him in a slow dance of intimate unification. She gripped the massive plates of his chest, leaning into them to support her trembling body.

Mhartak allowed his hands free rein to roam Sandrea’s body. The rocking rhythm of their bodies increased and she cried out, urging him on. The sound of her wild, loving voice pushed him to the end of restraint. His body bucked as he battled for control.

Without compromising their exquisite union, he bound her to him and rose from the chair. She wound her legs round his hips, creating such inflaming friction his knees almost buckled as he carried her across the room into their sleeping chamber.

Breathing hard, he lay down on the covers and held Sandrea above him. Her moans and writhing pushed him closer to the edge. He flipped her over and pinned her to the bed with his hips and chest.

“Be still, my love.”

Her head thrashed on the pillow.

“I can’t,” she gasped. “Eugen,
please.”

Her nails raked down his back while her hips twisted into his, demanding satisfaction. She convulsed, gasped, groaned, and tore his restraint apart. He surged forward and back, again and again, chasing her lead. Her entire body shuddered and clenched beneath him. Her inner muscles wrung waves of splendour from him and he followed her into that profound, shattering paradise.

Mhartak opened his eyes and sighed. She would have to have her own detail, even when she was with him. No doubt Corporal Shrenkner would request that duty and quite possibly Kulluk. And Dovzshak. Damn, he could see he was about to lose half of Alpha. His eyes roamed over the sleeping form of his beloved woman. There was no doubt she was an asset to their cause and had saved their bacon, as she put it, a number of times.

He smiled. Maybe the Bluthen deserved to have her inflicted on them. Yes, he would release Sandrea, Shrenkner, Dovzshak, Kulluk, Dexter, and the new laraxdon on the Bluthen and it would serve them right. He pulled a blanket over them both and snuggled spoon fashion into his mate. She wriggled closer in her sleep, her bare bottom brushing him enticingly, her sigh content.

Yes, indeed, the future looked quite rosy.

Biography

Born in the far north of Australia, yearly cyclones, floods and being cut off from civilization for weeks at a time were the norm. An outrageous imagination helped occupy Sandra’s mind.

An abiding interest in astronomy and a deep-seated need to always see the good guys win naturally influences her writing. Not satisfied with the amount of romance in science fiction novels she set out to redress the balance.

She currently lives in sunny South East Queensland, Australia, with her husband and Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, who doesn’t seem to realize she comes from royalty and should act in a more appropriate manner.

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