Alien's Concubine, The (15 page)

Resolutely, she closed her mind to the
doubts. It was Anka. She knew it with every fiber of her being. She
wasn’t going to think about anything else.

He lifted her against the door,
supporting her with his knee and his lower body as he untied the
robe and shoved it from her shoulders. Burying his face against the
side of her neck, he breathed deeply. “You smell just as I’d
imagined,” he murmured huskily, “except far better, Moonflower,
sweeter than any nectar of any flower in the realm of
man.”

He sought her lips again after no more
than a moment’s exploration, traced the curves of her body with his
hands as she lifted her arms to his shoulders to help support
herself and keep her balance. She heard the slide of a zipper, the
click of a snap being flicked open. Impatience swarmed over and
through her like the sting of ants as he cupped her buttocks,
guided her legs around his waist.

She gasped, tearing her lips from his
and uttering a groan of pleasure as she felt the probe of his cock,
felt the head sink into her opening. He arched against her once
he’d breached her, his thrust aided by the dampness of want that
had gathered along her passage. Tightening her arms around him, she
bit down lightly on his shoulder as he sank deeply inside of her,
filling her with a delicious, nearly unbearable
fullness.

He groaned as her body quaked around
him, fisted tightly as if to hold him captive. Shifting her for
better leverage, he launched a furious, pounding rhythm that spoke
of desperate need and evoked an echo of it within her. Heaving
together, moaning and shuddering, they rode the tidal wave of
sensation upward together, found bliss together within moments.
Breathless and weak in the aftermath, Gaby clung to him with an
effort, dazed, her mind drifting with the surging, slowly
dissipating currents of ecstasy.

He hoisted her against his chest when
he’d finally caught his breath. Turning, he carried her into her
bedroom still wrapped around him like a limpet and fell across the
bed with her. Gathering himself with an effort, he rolled away from
her and tried to shuck his clothes and shoes without leaving the
bed. Gaby chuckled affectionately and helped him struggle out of
the tangle of clothes. She’d lost her robe somewhere between the
front door and the bedroom.

It saved her the trouble of discarding
it.

He pulled her against his length the
moment he’d removed the last of his clothes and pitched them. “I
will have to make that up to you,” he murmured with lazy
amusement.

“
What?” Gaby murmured,
inspecting his chest with her lips.

“
The rough tumble,” he
responded with a chuckle, stroking his hands over her hair and back
appreciatively. “I love fucking you, woman! It felt good plowing my
flesh into you, spilling my seed at your womb! I had all but
forgotten how good a body can feel, the pleasure it is capable
of.”

The comment caused her a pang—several
actually. It had been good, she reminded herself, and nothing that
rough and animalistic could be termed ‘love-making’. There was no
sense in feeling hurt over his choice of words, and none in being
distressed that it wasn’t ‘really’ him, or his seed.

“
I love fucking you, too,”
she responded, resolutely curling her lips into a smile as she
lifted her head to look at him, bracing herself to look at the face
that wasn’t his face.

He chuckled, rolling with her until
she was beneath him. “This body pleases you,” he said with
satisfaction. “I should have realized before that you would find a
fair one such as yourself more to your taste.”

Gaby felt her smile slip a notch. She
didn’t want to feel unappreciative and she certainly didn’t want to
show it. He was happy. He’d felt the things denied him before. It
was selfish and stupid to wish for something she couldn’t have and
deny him the pleasure he had every right to want for himself. “I
liked the way you looked before,” she said, “but this is very nice,
too.”

He almost seemed to shrug. “That one
would cost me more to utilize than I wish to expend. I do not know
that I could revitalize it if I tried. I would almost certainly be
too weak to get my seed upon you, perhaps too weak even to sustain
myself. This works well enough. I am satisfied with the performance
of this body.”

Too weak to sustain himself, Gaby
thought, feeling a shaft of fear spear through her? He had existed
hundreds of years--thousands! It was almost inconceivable that he
wasn’t immortal. Even though she knew he wasn’t really a god, she
realized she had accepted that he was close.

It boggled her mind that he could
speak so offhand about ceasing to exist, but then she supposed it
wasn’t something he need fear like humanity. He had had far more
time to grow used to non-existence than mortals did.

Another thought occurred to her on the
heels of that.

Did he sense his end? Was that the
driving force behind his need to procreate?

She found that it was too painful even
to consider.

Resolutely closing her mind to it,
firmly tamping the certainty that she would disappoint him if he
thought to breed a child on her, she focused on trying to give him
what she could—pleasure. At least she could give him that, she told
herself, if she couldn’t give him anything else.

He folded his arms beneath his head as
she kissed her way down his belly, sighing blissfully as he allowed
her to ‘worship’ the body he’d ‘acquired’. Mildly annoyed and
vaguely amused, too, Gaby determined to make him squirm before she
was done.

This was seriously kinky, at least for
her, she thought as she took his engorged cock into her hand and
sucked the head experimentally, tasting herself on his flesh. His
eyes, she saw, slid half-closed. She dismissed her qualms, focusing
on him, Anka, relishing the spark of passion she saw in his eyes as
she caressed his shaft with her hands and mouth, gently massaged
his testicles.

He lay perfectly still, watching her,
his chest rising and falling progressively faster as she teased
him. His voice was husky when he spoke at last. “I am of no mind to
spill my seed there,” he said chidingly.

Gaby smiled around the cock in her
mouth but lifted her head after a moment. “Then hold it for me,”
she murmured.

He allowed it until he could no longer
be still, until his hips began to lift seemingly of their own
volition each time she took him deeply into her mouth. Uttering a
growl finally, he bolted upright, caught her beneath her arms, and
hauled her across his body and onto the bed beside him, rolling on
top of her with almost the same movement. Nudging her thighs aside
with his hips, he traced her cleft with his cock head until he
found the place that ached for his possession. Gasping with
pleasure as he breached her, she closed her eyes, caught at him,
digging her fingers into his flesh as he thrust and withdrew until
he’d set a frantic pace that drew smoldering heat from the ashes of
her spent passion of before.

In her mind, it was Anka that
possessed her, his body she felt, his muscles that rippled and grew
taut with his movements, his engorged flesh that stroked the inner
walls of her sex. They wept for him, pleasured by his touch.
Feverish need moved her, drew her body taut as a bow string,
quivering on the edge of release.

She could feel it, just beyond her
reach, feel herself gathering to make the leap. The jerk of his
cock within her, the hot flood of his seed bathing her womb as he
found surcease, sent her rocketing over the edge. She cried out as
she came, stunned by the force of her climax.

She didn’t open her eyes when he
gathered himself at last and moved to the bed beside her. She
wanted to hold on to the illusion she’d clung to, couldn’t bear to
allow the real image of the stranger’s face to intrude on her
bliss.

It was nibbling lips that woke her
later. The room was dark. She had no idea what time it was, but her
stomach told her she’d expended all the energy she could afford
without refilling it. “You’re insatiable,” she complained without
heat. “I don’t suppose I could interest you in nibbling on
something a little more fulfilling?”

The suggestion, to her surprise and
more than a little chagrin, instantly distracted him. “Pizza,” he
announced immediately.

“
Pizza?” she echoed
quizzically. “When have you had pizza?”

“
I have not. I like the
look of it.”

“
Ok,” she agreed
indulgently. “What do you want on it?”

“
Everything. Whatever you
like,” he said graciously.

“
Go out? Or order in?”
Gaby asked, sitting up to turn on the bedside lamp and turning to
glance at him quizzically before a sudden thought fractured her
bubble of tolerant amusement. “Wait … where did you … ah … acquire
this … man?” she asked as delicately as she could.

He dismissed her qualms. “Many miles
from here.”

“
How many?”

He frowned, considering. “It was a
fort.”

“
Fort
Lauderdale?”

His frown didn’t clear.
“Perhaps.”

“
We’ll eat in,” she said
decisively. “It could be … uncomfortable running into somebody who
knew … knows him.”

He seemed unconcerned about
it.

He would be, she thought dryly. She
wasn’t comfortable, however, and aside from the ‘uncomfortable’
part, the guy might have been reported missing, in which case there
was the potential for running afoul of law enforcement. One thing
she did not need was to get raked into something that could make
headlines.

Pushing the thoughts from her mind,
she ordered the pizza and went in to take a shower while they were
waiting for delivery. Anka joined her. She wasn’t particularly
happy about that. She would’ve liked a little alone time with the
vague sense of hysteria shimmering in her belly.

It sent an unpleasant jolt through her
every time she glanced at Anka and saw a strange face in his place.
It wasn’t that the guy wasn’t good looking. He was, and if she
hadn’t been so … taken with Anka, then maybe she would’ve been
interested. As it was, everything about the situation set her teeth
on edge.

I’ll get used to it, she told
herself.

I can do this … for him. I want
to.

The man will never remember. What’s
the loss of a few days, after all? Surely he’s feeling the pleasure
the same as Anka?

It was wrong, of course, very, very
wrong, but how could she object?

She cleared her throat. “This man … He
has a life of his own,” she said tentatively.

Anka shrugged, examining the scent of
the shampoo before he poured a handful and began to rub it over his
chest. “He is here with me. He is not harmed.”

Gaby took the bottle out of his hand
and gave him the bar of soap. “Aware?”

“
Yes,” he answered
absently, smelling the soap, then setting it aside and grabbing the
shampoo again.

Gaby frowned. “That’s for hair, not
the body. Pissed off, I guess?”

He lifted his brows at her
questioningly but obliging rubbed the shampoo into his hair instead
of on himself. “He was. He enjoyed the fucking, though. Right now
he is … resting.”

Gaby stared at him in horrified
fascination for several moments and finally cleared her throat. “He
was aware of … that?”

“
He would not have enjoyed
it otherwise,” he responded dismissively.

Gaby smiled with an effort. “Wow, two
for one. I hadn’t realized just how kinky that was.”

He looked displeased by that comment.
“It did not seem right to oust his spirit for the use of his
body.”

“
Because it isn’t,” Gaby
said firmly, trying to ignore the uncomfortable fluttering of her
heart at the offhand comment.

“
But I do not like
sharing.”

Gaby studied his eyes searchingly.
“You’re just … ‘borrowing’, right? Like … for the
night?”

“
The fucking was good, but
I did not procreate this night. It is not your time,” he said
pointedly. “Even I can do nothing about such things.”

Gaby felt vaguely nauseated. She’d
hoped he would be satisfied with what she could give him. Stupid!
This was why she’d avoided any kind of relationship. She’d
suspected, sooner or later, it would boil down to her ‘true’
function as a woman and she would be found lacking.

He pushed her chin up with one
forefinger. “You do not trust easily, Moonflower. I gave you back
what was taken from you.”

She looked at him helplessly. She
didn’t want to fight with him. She’d missed him. She just wanted to
enjoy being with him, whatever the circumstances … just for a
little while. Was it too much to ask when she’d never had anything
of her own? It was selfish. She knew it was, and it was going to
plague her conscience, but, just for once, she wanted to be selfish
even if she had to pay for it later.

Despite those thoughts, it trembled on
the tip of her tongue to try to reason with him, to try to make him
understand that what he was doing was wrong, even for a little
while. The man had a life, maybe a family, friends, certainly a
job. He could lose everything while Anka used him as if he was no
more than a … puppet.