The Baylan Chronicles: DRACE (A sci-fi alien romance) Page 5

  "Shut up."

  He grinned. "I like it."

  Clearly he was feeling better. "Let me see it."

  He sighed, but obligingly sat up all the way. "See? When I slept, it finally had a chance to heal."

  He'd removed the bandage. All that remained of the once gaping wound was a puffy, jagged pink scar. "That'll fade in a few days."

  "Amazing." Rachel touched it, found no swelling or heat. "Your healing abilities are––"

  In a swift move, he grabbed both her hands and pinned her back on the mattress. "I'll tell you what's amazing," he growled. "This body of yours." His lips crushed down on hers, stealing her breath. His tongue swept, delving deep, as his hips ground against hers. She moaned into his mouth as his hard length pressed against her rapidly dampening pussy.

  In one quick motion, he swept her shirt over her head, leaving her in panties. Rachel thrilled at the way his gaze raked her. Silver-blue eyes blazed with more than simple arousal, appreciation, and shone with something that looked like reverence.

  "So fucking beautiful," he breathed. His large hand cupped one breast while his mouth claimed the other. His hand kneaded, rasping against her tight nipple, while his mouth nipped and suckled. She moaned and arched, thrusting one sensitive bud against his wide palm and the other deeper into his mouth.

  His hand at her breast slid down her ribs, her waist, to her hip, leaving a trail of smoldering heat in its wake. His thumb hooked on the string of her panties and tugged. His fingers found her aching pussy and rolled in the hot, slippery folds. Rachel gasped, arched off the mattress as every nerve ending in her body shuddered in unrestrained pleasure. It was too much. It wasn't nearly enough. This morning was ending in sex and Rachel was fine with that. It was just sex. Possibly the best sex she would ever have in her life. She planned to enjoy it to the fullest.

  She pushed aside the knowledge that she’d never been so turned on in her life. That this felt more intense than simple chemistry. Against all logic, she’d liked the guy from the moment he collapsed on the clinic floor. Drace was beginning to feel essential to her. Or perhaps the trauma of the past twenty-four hours was scrambling her brain.

  "Are you sure you should be doing this?" she panted. "You might hurt yourself."

  "It hurts more not touching you," he murmured against her skin. "If you don't want this, tell me now, because if we do this, you're mine. There will be no taking it back."

  The way he said it made the back of her neck tingle in warning, but also in anticipation. So he wanted to keep it exclusive while they were sleeping together––that was refreshing. Most of the men she'd dated in recent years had ambivalence about monogamy and didn't stick around long enough for it to be an issue. But with the friction of his skin against hers, his breath hot on her neck, all the good reasons she shouldn’t get entangled with this man melted away. She couldn't explain this intense attraction and she could fight it no longer.

  She ran her hands over his wide, muscled back. His markings were warmer than the rest of his skin. So many things were the same about them, yet some things were quite different. His thick cock pressed against her throbbing pussy. God, he was big. She bucked her hips, grinding on his hot erection. Sparks of pleasure licked through her. She wanted more, needed more. Drace may not be of this Earth, but he was a man, and for the moment, hers.

  He dipped his forehead and rested it on hers. His arms shook with the strain of holding back. Of maintaining control. "I need your answer, Rachel."

  Rachel shivered at the raw need in his gravel-on-silk voice. "Do you have protection?"

  A stupid question. Of course he didn't. He didn't even have his own pants.

  "I can't get you pregnant. Not today, anyway."

  What? "Just today?"

  He paused. "Rachel, I promise you will not conceive a child with me in this bed. And Baylans do not have sexual diseases."

  "Not at all?"

  "They were eliminated a very long time ago." He looked down. “All the females I’ve been with have been were approved, of course––"

  "Stop." She tapped his chest. "Approved? What are you saying?"

  He blinked at her, as if the answer should be obvious. "Baylans have stritas who offer sexual pleasure. My status allows me to partake of any strita assigned to the command class on my base ship."

  “Is a strita like a hooker?"

  "A what?"

  "You know––a prostitute."

  His brows dropped into a scowl. "Stritas are revered men and women. They are individuals skilled in all manner of sensual arts and do not wish to be mated to one person. They take great joy in pleasuring the Baylans they are assigned to.”

  “How many?”

  “How many what?”

  “Strita.” She frowned. “How many women are in your...harem?”

  He frowned at the word harem, but answered. “Nine to ten, at any given time. They cycle in and out of different base ships as they choose. For variety.”

  For variety. Of course. Rachel’s eyes narrowed. Suddenly, she felt very much like the inexperienced one here. She raised an eyebrow. "What if you'd been into men?"

  He didn't blink. "Then I would choose to enjoy male stritas, of course. Why do you ask these strange questions?"

  "Because I'm curious." Rachel shook her head, more than a little amazed. And impressed. It seemed the Baylans had a healthy and realistic approach to sex. More than what she could say about humanity. "It all seems very...efficient."

  "We think so." He tilted her chin toward him. "I am pleased by your concern for your health. It tells me you have taken care of it and protected yourself."

  "Yeah, well." She turned from his grasp and looked away as old wounds scraped raw within her. "My mother didn't exactly take care of her body, and I lost her at a young age to an overdose." This was not a topic Rachel liked to dwell on. Talking about her childhood brought only pain. Bad decisions had destroyed her mother. It was one reason why she had to be very careful not to get too involved with Drace. She could lose her way so easily with a man like this. Lose direction and purpose and end up lost...again.

  She skimmed her hands over his muscled chest, sending his soul markings into bright luminescence. She could do this without falling for him. Without losing herself.

  "So, as for your question..." She leaned up, nipped his earlobe. “Yes, Drace. I want you to fuck me."

  He groaned, hooking a thumb in the waistband of her lowered panties. "With pleasure."

  The panties disappeared in an instant. That slip of fabric was the last barrier. They were skin to skin, heat to heat. He delved one, then two fingers deep inside her. He stroked rhythmically until her quivering walls clenched around him. Her head tipped back in a cry as pleasure built. She found him with her hands and stroked his length, drawing a ragged moan from him. He was so much larger than any of her previous partners, she wondered how he’d fit inside her. His mouth and lips and tongue explored the skin behind her ear, the undersides of her breasts, the dip of her waist. He seemed to know exactly how to touch, where to find her most sensitive places. She was writhing with need by the time he slid his slick fingers from her. Rachel may have thought she knew desire, but they were shadows of the need she felt for Drace. Her body craved his possession. Her heart squeezed at the knowledge that she made this man tremble between her legs.

  Thick and hot and pulsing, the head of his cock nudged against the folds of her pussy. His breathing was rapid. He closed his eyes and shuddered. ”I’ll try to be gentle."

  Rachel didn't want gentle. She wanted him hard and wild and now. She scooted her hips forward, pushing a few inches of his length inside her. A stab of liquid pleasure shuddered through her, curling her toes, leaving her breathless. She ached with wanting more. Her hips strained forward to take more of him. To take in all of him.

  His jaw clenched as her body took him in. He slid inside, slowly, deliciously. His enormous cock filled her completely, gloriously. She winced as her pussy stretched to accommodate
him, even as pleasure exploded like a sensual current of electricity.

  He growled unfamiliar words into her neck and began to move. He slid in and out in a leisurely pace, his cock finding every stimulating point.

  It was as if her body was made for his alone. She tipped her head back, gripped the bedsheets, and held on as he ignited sensations she never knew existed. His body glistened with sweat, his face set in strained lines. Blue eyes blazed down at her, giving off light of their own. His soul markings emitted a luminescence,the new one on his chest glowing the brightest of all. She ran her hands over the slick angles of his muscles. His ragged breathing matched her own erratic heaving. Long, slow strokes ignited her passage, building a pressure both maddening and delicious. He built the rhythm, deepened the strokes. Quickened them. Friction drove both of them toward the edge of ecstasy.

  She knew the moment his control snapped. An animal sound escaped his lips. His hips surged and then he pounded her hard, filling her to the hilt with each powerful thrust. Yes! This was what she wanted. She met each thrust with one of her own as pleasure built and built to a near unbearable peak. His muscles tensed and his eyes closed. He pistoned faster, harder. Pleasure crashed through her body, scattering every thought, quenching her like rain after a drought. She arched off the mattress on a cry as she clenched around him. Her pussy pulsed with liquid pleasure, milking his cock like a fist.

  She clutched his hair, his head, pulling him closer. Their breath merged and he joined her. He threw back his head and let out a primal howl as he released his alien seed deep within her. Their eyes met and held. For one moment, she swore she could feel everything he did. The frantic mindlessness of exquisite ecstasy. Lust mixed with wonder and a little worry. Stars danced at the edges of her vision as the powerful climax rocked and rocked through her.

  He dropped to the bed beside her, breathing heavily. His soul markings bulged slightly and burned a bright, swirling silver.

  Connection snapped, Rachel's head spun. What the hell was that? Panic warred with utter bliss as she stared at the popcorn ceiling above her. She knew sex with Drace would be good, but that had been unreal. He’d rendered her unable to hold a coherent thought. Her mind, like her body, was pleasant mush. He had ignited a fire that even now she wanted again. Was this what the Baylan mating thing did to women? Render them incapable of being satisfied by any other man? Because she couldn’t imagine any other man coming close to giving her the level of pleasure Drace just delivered. And he was injured. God knew how he would be at full health. Her pussy throbbed just thinking about it and that sent a stab of panic from her gut to her heart. What had she just done? She had sex with a man who had no plans to settle down on Earth, let alone in Nebraska near Gram, who would need help getting around soon. She had sex with a man from another planet who had the power to turn her to a quivering pile of need. She swallowed hard as her heart beat hard and reckless in her chest.

  Sex with Drace was a mistake. Had she learned nothing since all those faithless ex-boyfriends? Drace admitted to basically having a harem, up on his ship, and she still had sex with him. She was no better than she’d ever been, choosing a man over smart reasoning.

  Rachel rolled to her side, away from him, eyes wide and heart sinking. If she didn’t get away from this man soon, she’d end up right back where she started—lost and alone.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The deed was done. The woman was his.

  His.

  The word felt good, right. She was meant to be his in every way. It had been absurd to try to resist the call of his own biology. The soul markings didn’t make mistakes. As soon as that one appeared on his chest, he was hers and she, whether she knew it or not, was his.

  However, as he gazed at the long sexy back of his female, a rare thread of uncertainty wove through his mind. She didn’t seem exactly...happy. Would Rachel accept her place at his side, or resist their mating? She was a woman of strong will. But as his mate, her priority would become the Raplan-B and its people. And him.

  There was the matter of explaining to her what continued exposure to his semen would do to her physiology. It was gradual, and subtle, and they had to have a lot of sex for the changes to occur, but delaying the conversation too long would be deceptive.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, not liking the tense line of her back.

  “I’m fine.” She jerked a shoulder. “Just a little overwhelmed, I guess.”

  He would tell her. Later. “You’re not alone."

  She rolled toward him, eyes wide. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that was...more than I expected.” He sat up and ran fingers through his hair. The questions in her eyes and her words made him feel unsteady and vulnerable––two feelings he disliked intensely. He wanted to whisk her to his ship immediately and lock both of them in his quarters until this need for her was at least somewhat quenched. He wanted to give her every beautiful thing in the universe. His emotions terrified him. Telling her exactly how he felt would terrify her. “When we get to my ship, we’ll do this properly.”

  She stiffened. ”I'm not going to your spaceship.”

  “Yes, you are. You're not safe here." He rolled on top of her and pinned her down despite her furious gaze. “You don’t have to stay there. At the thought of losing her, panic iced his guts. She eased her struggling and stared at him. Her eyes probed his for the truth. “We can give you a new identity, make it so Dept. 6 can’t find you. I won’t allow them to capture you, Rachel.” His words must have reassured her, as her muscles released and her gaze fell to his lips. He took it as an invitation and kissed her boneless. She sighed into the kiss, but that slight frown remained.

  His.

  Once he got Rachel aboard his ship, he planned to keep her there. First, he had to convince her that it was where she belonged.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Drace's fingers tunneled through Rachel's hair as his mouth moved sensually against hers. Her body melted, molded to his with an ease that her mind did not match. Being with him was so easy. It felt so right. And that was a big part of the problem.

  She had hurt and been hurt, and had resigned herself to the reality that long-term relationships were as right for her as a McMansion and a mortgage. Yet as she kissed Drace, she couldn't remember a time when she'd connected like this to a man. She couldn't deny the feeling that they were bound together by something deeper and more powerful than weird circumstances. He'd grown increasingly protective of her, and she suspected, if the possessive gleam in his eyes was any indication, that sex meant more to him than to the majority of men she'd dated over the years. The reality was, she was in bed with a man of a different species, from a different planet, and she had the distinct impression he was withholding information. What if he took her somewhere in his ship and didn't return her to Earth? The thought cooled her blood. Rachel broke the kiss and pushed his chest. "Let me up."

  He rolled off her with a slight frown. "Why?"

  She got out of bed, her thoughts jumbled. "We need to get moving. I want a shower before we go."

  She felt his gaze on her as she headed for the bathroom. In the mirror, her image surprised her. Her eyes looked a little greener. Her skin was dewy and glowing. She looked...not how one should look after escaping a fire and fleeing armed guards, and losing herself in early morning sex. Was sex with an alien some kind of body rejuvenator?

  With a sick feeling in her belly, she looked away from the mirror. It wasn't until scalding water streamed down her back that her nerves eased. She just looked and felt better than she thought she should. Life threatening situations weren't the norm for her, so what a pleasant surprise that her bare skin looked as perfect as if she'd spent an hour putting makeup on it. After all they’d been through, of course she'd feel connected to Drace, but she'd play it safe and stay off his spaceship. She'd help him find his ship, then they'd part ways. And she’d start the work of forgetting him.

  She dried off, dressed, and returned to the bedroom. Through the wi
ndow, she saw Drace standing outside. His coat was draped over the railing, and he stood shirtless on the long balcony connecting all the second-story rooms. The freezing temperature didn’t appear to affect him. His elbows rested on the railing as he gazed over the nearly empty parking lot and lonely highway like a king overlooking a fallen kingdom. Today in the daylight, his soul markings looked like normal ink.

  He was magnificent. Rachel knew the angles of his body, the feel of his skin, the silk of his hair through her fingers. And she knew without question that they, and everything else about him, were hers.

  Hers.

  She shook the thought off abruptly. That couldn't be. She barely knew him. That reason suddenly felt smaller and dimmer. As if he sensed her watching him, Drace turned. Morning sunlight spilled over his shoulders, framed him in brilliance. He smiled at her and her breath caught.

  She looked to the bed, at the knot of sheets pulled up from the mattress and pillows still bunched from his fists. Heat coiled low in her belly. Despite a slight soreness from accommodating his size and the vigor of their lovemaking, she wanted him, now, tonight, tomorrow. She couldn't imagine not wanting him inside her. Rachel closed her eyes. Why couldn't she make a decision about this guy? She bounced from thought to thought, from decision to decision. This was not like her. This guy, the feelings she was having about him, was mixing her up.

  Rachel scooped up her purse with shaking hands and joined him outside. "You're going to draw attention, parading around shirtless." Her words came out sharp-edged.

  He slid on the coat and gave her a curious look. "Are you grumpy in the morning or having second thoughts?"

  "About what?" She knew damn well about what.

  He raised a brow.

  "About fucking you?" Her lips tightened over her teeth. "No worries. You’re great in bed."

  "I wasn't asking for a critique.” He grasped her elbow and spun her around. "Is that all you think we did? Fuck?"

  "I don't know what the hell that was." She couldn't wrench her arm from his steel grip. "The sex was good. Let’s leave it at that.”