The Baylan Chronicles: DRACE (A sci-fi alien romance) Page 8

  Yes, she knew him, body and soul. Whether this relationship was worth renouncing all that she was working for in her life was the question.

  On a growl, he slid his hands to her ass and squeezed the cheeks, pulling them apart and sliding his fingers down to her soaking cleft. Two deft fingers stroked the seam of her pants, gently flossing her pussy. She moaned. Heat pooled between her legs. Her knees weakened. The long, hard evidence of his arousal pressed against her mound, and she rocked against it, instinctively grinding her throbbing clit against him in the front while his fingers tortured her from behind.

  Then those delicious fingers were gone, and her pants and panties slithered down her legs to a heap on the floor. Her nails scraped up his chest, dancing over his right pectoral muscles and along the soul markings that supposedly recognized her as his mate. They glowed brighter at her touch, and he let out a rough moan. It must feel good for her to touch them. She ran her tongue over them and marveled at the tiny, painless snaps of electricity the markings emitted against her mouth.

  "Enough." He leaned out of her reach with a moan. "You're killing me."

  "Good." Rachel leaned forward, nipped his sensitive skin before he could stop her. It drew a hiss from him. "I'm still mad at you, Drace Dal-Allean."

  His eyes widened and his brows shot upward. "You remembered my full name."

  "Despite being a simple human, I can remember things."

  He cupped her chin. His eyes were glittering slits. "You are the furthest thing from simple, Rachel Harkett. Will you make love with me?"

  "Hmm." She shouldn’t. They had an enormous pile of shit to sort out between them. She leaned close and breathed in the scent of him. The threads of resolve snapped, one by one. With trembling fingers, she unhooked his belt. "Isn't that what we're doing?"

  A guttural rumble tore from his throat, and he let his pants fall to the floor. With one smooth scoop, he picked her up and settled both of them on the chair. In this position, she straddled him.

  She could tell he knew she was ready for him. She bit her lip in anticipation as his large hands gripped her ass, suspending her above his jutting cock. The head rubbed against her swollen lips, sending her writhing with anticipation. He lowered her, burying himself deep inside her wet, silky sheath.

  She groaned, feeling her walls stretch and swallow his girth. It felt so fucking good, her body shivered. He was looking at her, teeth gritted, eyes blazing silver. His hands guided her hips as he pumped her up and down his shaft while he met each stroke with his own thrusting.

  He wasn't gentle. He wasn't patient. He pushed the pace faster, harder, driving her to the edge of orgasm, then backing off so she whimpered with need. Until she raked her nails down his soul markings and clamped her thighs against his hips, demanding release. One corner of his lips turned up and his hips pistoned faster, taking her to the brink of release and pushing her past it.

  She threw her head back as sensation exploded in every corner of her body. Pure electricity, a pleasurable current danced over, under her skin. Drace's body stiffened and he released his seed inside her with a cry of triumph.

  As one, they sank to the floor and sat there, shaking limbs entwined, until they caught their breath.

  "What the hell," Rachel said with reverence. "Are you sure you don't have alien pheromones going on there?"

  His grin was smug. "I should be asking you that. I've never been aroused by a female as much as I have by you." His fingers slid up her jawline. He kissed the hollow behind her ear, making her shiver. "I think about this constantly. I would have you every day, if I could. Multiple times a day. It's very distracting."

  "It is." She cocked her head, leaned back. "By the way, why do you keep formally asking me if I'll have sex with you every time we're making out?”

  He sighed, but looked her in the eyes. "I suppose it's time you learned about this. My semen will subtly change your body. Over time, it will make your womb able to accept my seed and carry my child. So I ask. I will always ask, until you accept me as yours alone."

  Rachel reared back and stared. "Would it make me not human?"

  "You will always be human," he said in a calm tone, a teaching tone. "You will always be you. All the changes do is make you fertile to me. And to no one else."

  No one else. Her heart thumped in her chest, heavy and off-beat, as if confused between conflict and passion. "How long does this change take?" She folded her arms over her breasts. "I mean, how many times would we––"

  His lips captured hers again in a deep, hard kiss. "Many, many times."

  "And is it...permanent?"

  Drace rested his forehead against hers. "After we conceived a child together, it would be." With his heavy breaths, his chest brushed against hers. "But that isn't going to happen today."

  Rachel struggled to think. Yes, she was attracted to Drace—more than attracted. That wasn't in question. There were other feelings, too. If he were human, she'd be floating around on a cloud right now because she'd know in her gut that this guy was something special—one to keep. But he wasn't human, and they were floating around in a spaceship headed away from Earth. Everything about them was impossible, and the thought of her body changing to accommodate his seed––God, that was too much.

  She slipped from his arms and began picking up her discarded clothes, dressing in jerky movements. "I–I'd like you to take me back, please."

  "Back where?" He looked confused.

  "Earth. I don't belong here."

  "You belong with me," he replied, his tone vehement.

  "I belong with my own people." The words made sense to her head, but her heart squeezed. "I don't want to…to mutate into something else. I should be with someone of my own species."

  She heard his sharply indrawn breath and could feel his stab of pain.

  "It's not like you'd grow tentacles, Rachel. The changes are minor. Your appearance would mostly remain the same. If anything, they would enhance the beauty you already have. The aging process would be slowed considerably and you’d live longer, to match a Baylan lifespan.”

  She whipped around. "And what about your changes? From where I'm standing, everything stays the same for you––home, job, DNA––I'm the one giving everything up. I'm the one giving up everything to be with you."

  He reached for her. “Rachel—”

  “No.” She brushed off his hand. “My dad left when I was a baby, and then when my mom got tired of me, she dropped me off on my grandmother. Later, I foolishly gave up my education to follow a guy across the country, and he ditched me. And then there’s the string of more guys who I uprooted myself for, only to be ditched for girls in new towns. I won't repeat that process now, on a far, far grander scale. I won't let myself be dragged around the fucking universe because of some guy, only to get ditched somewhere when you get tired of me."

  He gazed at her with a quiet expression and slowly rose. "I understand now. You want to protect yourself, but I am not some guy. You must know that what is between us is different from whatever happened in your past. You are my mate, Rachel. You are the Yana-queen to Raplan-B.” He spoke slowly, punctuating each word. "I am physically and emotionally incapable of ditching you. I will adore you for the rest of my life."

  "Those are nice words." She was so weary and wanted so much to believe them true. "But you aren't the one giving up everything. I'm the one with everything to lose."

  He drew up to his full height, gloriously naked. "You see only what you think you are losing. You aren't yet aware of what you will gain by becoming my Yana-queen."

  A skitter of panic iced her spine. "That's another thing. How can you expect me to become whatever-queen of a population who don’t know me and aren’t even the same species as me? You think they would accept me just because I'm your mate? I hate that word, by the way."

  "Fine. Wife, partner, if you prefer, but bound by more than a piece of paper and a ring, that's for sure," he said, his voice rough. "And yes, my people will accept you. They will lo
ve you. They know the soul markings would not choose an inappropriate ma–– wife."

  He picked up her hand and placed it gently atop the glowing marks below his collarbone. The markings warmed, glowed brighter, as if they had been yearning for her touch.

  She slid her hand from under his, drawing away from that warm, compelling skin. "I'm not ready for this," she said through a thick throat.

  His eyes closed. The runes on his body darkened to dull pewter. "What do you want, Rachel?"

  “I don’t know.” She turned away, to the sweeping view of space and the swirling blue and green planet before them. It all seemed impossible. She was in danger back on Earth, that was clear, but the idea of sitting on a throne in Drace’s spaceship, trying to connect with a race of people who viewed her kind as inferior seemed impossible. And then there was Gram, who lived alone on the farm. The Baylan people didn’t need her, but Gram did. To say goodbye to all the things she was working toward and all the goals she hadn’t yet achieved, made her heart ache. “There must be a safe way to return to Earth.”

  He sighed. "No."

  "You said I had choices."

  "You do." His brows drew together. "But I also have responsibilities, and one of them is calling me back to my base ship."

  "But––"

  "No." He cut her off with that single icy word. "You may be eager for imprisonment and invasive medical testing, but this shuttle needs a new fuel cell and my people need their leader. Your suicide trip can wait until after I return this shuttle, and I see to my duties on the base ship. In the meantime, you will have to endure the presence of an alien for a little longer."

  "Drace..." she began, the heat draining from her voice.

  His expression was a mask of tightly leashed emotion. "Please, don't." Jaw tight, he stalked back to the console. "Why don't you get some rest." It wasn't a question or a suggestion. "I'll let you know when we've arrived."

  Her heart ached, as if being compressed between two cinder blocks. He sounded so sure of her fate on Earth, but she was an American citizen with rights. There had to be a way to return safely, staying out of the hands of Dept. 6.

  She walked to the wide white bed. The wall closed in around her, shutting her off from Drace. She panicked, splaying her hands on the smooth, solid surface. Immediately, the wall dissolved and a door-sized opening appeared. She relaxed and stepped through.

  He looked up briefly, one eyebrow cocked in a question.

  "I thought––I couldn't see a door and I..."

  His mouth hardened. "Despite what you think, you are not a prisoner." As he said the words, a clearly defined door with a handle appeared. "There. Better?"

  Her hand closed around the handle, which turned smoothly. "Yes. Thank you."

  He nodded curtly. "Good. Now if you don't mind, I have work to do."

  She retreated into the bedroom space. The decor was stark, but warm. A vase sat on a table next to the bed. It contained a blue flower so beautiful, she couldn't resist approaching it. Long blue petals undulated as if by some hidden breeze. She ran a finger over one, and the air filled with a sweet scent, unlike any she'd ever smelled before. The petals shimmered every iridescent blue shade from light aqua to indigo. She found it hard to tear herself away from its beauty.

  Kind of like Drace. Completely like Drace.

  She slid under the light blanket and settled in. She was tired and hungry. She regretted turning down Drace’s offer of food, but nothing save a fiery crash could drag her out of this room to face him. He was clearly hurt and angry with a few other emotions thrown in, and everything about her was too raw, too inside-out, to deal with him for the moment. Most of all, she ached. Her heart, mind, and soul pulled in different directions without offering a single clear course.

  Stay with Drace. Go home.

  Explore the stars. Follow her goals on Earth.

  Love him forever. Cut your losses.

  Whatever she chose, she lost.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Drace discarded the filthy human pants he’d been wearing and slipped into his own clothes. He immediately felt more like himself again. The dark gray suit was a utilitarian one piece, except for the custom sheer panels displaying the soul-markings that denoted his rank and standing.

  His life had been regimented. The ruling class didn’t get luxuries like leisure time. His father, a Saar-king at the time, raised him to be a king, and that’s exactly what he became when his father was invited to move from ruling his base ship to joining the elite group of fleet advisors. To receive such an invitation was the greatest honor a Saar-king could receive. When Drace was a teenager, his mother and father departed for the stealth ship Oryn-X. The move hadn't been unexpected. His father had been an exceptional ruler. Drace greatly admired his father. They saw each other when schedules allowed, and he often got advice from him. The day the elder Saar-king had handed the running of the Raplan-B to him had been the most terrifying one in his life. He was given the title and with it, all its responsibility. That experience paled in comparison to the prospect of losing his soul’s chosen mate.

  His father had always believed in doing, seeing for oneself, rather than sending another to report back. This sense of first-hand experience is why Drace had traveled to Earth. It had been a risk, but one that gave him a true sense of what the planet was like and how the people behaved. He did not experience the best of the human race, but given the opportunity, he would do it again. Meeting Rachel made it worth the risk.

  He stared at the wall barring his view of Rachel. The euphoria of their lovemaking still thrummed through his veins. Her scent still clung to his skin. Sweet stars, he wanted her again. And more than that, he wanted her nearby. To talk to, ask questions, learn her opinions. He couldn't bear the thought of returning her to Earth, so far out of reach. Just the sound of her voice was like salve to a burn.

  He sighed and turned back to the console, where he entered the beginning of his Earth report. Hopefully, Rachel slept. She needed the rest. When she awoke, perhaps she would be more open to the possibilities between them. If not, he'd do everything in his power to convince her to stay.

  He steered into the landing bay of the Raplan-B. Tension he didn't know he held unwound as the shuttle touched down inside the airlock. He was home. Crew workers immediately swarmed the shuttle, locking it down, decontaminating it of any possible pathogens or organic material.

  Rachel poked her head out the door. "Are we...here?” Stars, she sounded so frightened.

  “Yes." His chest tightened again. Her eyes were wide and her skin pale. The knuckles on her hand gripping the door were white. "You're safe," he said as reassurance. "You'll be treated as an honored guest.” She would be welcomed as the queen she was, but telling her that would only scare her more.

  He instructed the shuttle to return to its basic state. All the walls, furniture, and facilities, sank back into the walls and floor.

  Rachel gaped with apparent awe as she found herself standing once again in a bare shuttle. “That’s so weird.”

  He held out a hand as the hatch lowered and a beam of light poured up through the opening. She stared at it, even though she'd traveled in it once. "It's called an Astrolight lift." He should have explained it the previous time. “The lift is perfectly safe. Light waves encapsulate the body and lift or lower in the desired direction."

  He had no idea how much of that she understood, as moving things with light had not been invented yet on Earth––but she put one foot forward, hesitated, and then stepped inside.

  She looked up at him and took the hand he extended. He clasped her smaller hand in his and gave a reassuring squeeze.

  Taking his hand was a good start. Hope sent his heart beating faster. One day, he hoped to convince her to never let it go.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Whatever Rachel had been expecting of the Baylan base ship, this wasn't it.

  Huge open spaces soared. An azure sky, complete with birds and clouds stretched from one end to the o
ther. Soft grass carpeted the floor in a shade of green far more vibrant than any on Earth. And it went on and on. For a few long moments, all she did was stare. She could almost believe she was outside.

  Drace wasn't paying attention. He was surrounded by people, official-looking types asking official-sounding questions in his language. People in medical gear rushed over and swept wand-shaped devices along their bodies. Drace didn’t bat an eye at anything they did, but she struggled to hold still as bright red beams scanned her from head to toe. She couldn't understand a word anyone said.

  “They’re scanning for foreign bacteria," someone said behind her in English.

  Rachel turned. The young man who’d spoken appeared about her age, maybe a bit younger, and wore a gray uniform perfectly tailored to his athletic form. "You speak English." She didn't care who this guy was––she could talk to him, so she liked him. "I can't tell you how great that is."

  He smiled, showing off a set of killer dimples. "Happy to serve. I'm Arten Dal-Allean. Drace is my older brother."

  Rachel's eyes went wide, but she recovered her composure quickly enough. Now she could see it—the same eyes, same strong jaw. Arten was a younger version of Drace—a little less serious and little more playful. "Nice to meet you. He didn't tell me he had a brother."

  "He didn't tell me he'd found his mate, so I guess we're even."

  "I'm not––I mean, I’m not his...mate." Her face heated. "I hate that term."

  "Mate?" Arten tilted his head. "Why?"

  "Because it sounds so... like a Neanderthal dragging some female into a cave."

  His dark brows raised. ”I have no idea what that means."

  Rachel shook her head. "Never mind." Explaining ancient Earth history to Drace's brother wasn’t on the schedule for today. Or any day. ”So what's with the scenery?"

  “Ah.” He swept out an arm with apparent pride. ”It mimics the landscape of our former planet, Bayla, before it was destroyed. It's a living history lesson, I suppose." He lifted one shoulder in a shrug of dismissal. "There are numerous recreational spaces like this throughout the ship. You'd call them parks in your language.”