GalacticInferno (4 page)

Chapter Three

Renate leaned forward. His nostrils flared. “Yes.”

She sucked in a breath. He’d agreed!

But at what cost?

She pushed a sudden attack of conscience aside. She had to
think about herself, think what was best for her, for Bonnie. Not this alien
who meant nothing to her.

Nothing? Yeah, right.

But then she was tucking her legs around his hips, aligning
her pussy to his cock. In this moment she wouldn’t think on the fact she was
fucking the enemy. All doubts and insecurities were set aside so that she could
remember what is was to be alive.

One of his hands clasped the base of his erection and he
massaged the slippery flesh of her cunt with the head of his cock, stimulating
her already sensitized nerve endings.

She clamped her legs around him and pinned him with a hot
glare. “No more teasing!”

Please!

He nodded, the cords of his neck standing out in sharp
relief. “As you wish.”

In one long stroke he drove into her slick heat, pushing the
breath from her lungs and the voice from her throat. But she couldn’t have
breathed, couldn’t have spoken even if she’d wanted. And then when he pulled
out and thrust all the way back in, she couldn’t even think.

Until some kind of shockwave hit deep in her womb and
flashed along her every cell, a fiery charge of pleasure that left her reeling
for one beat, then two. On the third she was climaxing hard, almost brutally,
swept high and far until she wondered for one brief, incredulous moment if she
was traveling along some other plane of being.

“
Yes
.” Her voice returned on a strangled hiss of
breath.

He paused, holding back as if drinking in her rapture, the
clenching of her cunt muscles. Then with a guttural groan he pushed deep inside
her, his strokes long and fierce and unrelenting.

His face clenched, skin pulling tight over sculpted
cheekbones. A muscle jerked to life in his jaw and he let go, releasing his
seed with a guttural moan.

They stayed joined together for long moments, holding each
other’s stares and breathing hard.

She swallowed. “I don’t remember much from my past, but I’m
certain sex has never been like this. Ever.”

With anyone.

He disengaged from her wet heat before shifting his weight
off her. Lying on his side he drew her close. His stare was fathomless, yet
somehow she perceived the conflicting undercurrents of his emotions.

He nodded, voice husky as he said, “That goes for me too,
kitten.”

God, how much difference a day could make. She basked in the
afterglow of their lovemaking, of knowing their union had been something beyond
special. For both of them. With Renate’s strong arms wrapped around her, she
felt a peace, a belonging she knew she’d never experienced with anyone before.
It was as though a part of her had been missing, a part that was now returned.

What, it takes a virus to wipe out almost all of humanity
for you to find your soul mate?

Guilt slid like a toxin through her radiance, dimming joy.
Bloody hell. She couldn’t keep harboring such terrible thoughts. Like a cancer,
they’d eat her alive. Though memories of the past hit her when she least
expected, she wanted—needed—to look toward the future if she had even half a
chance for a happily ever after.

A future she’d never have believed was conceivable.

God only knew the days since she’d woken with no memory at
all had been a special kind of hell on earth.

She breathed slowly and deeply, her thoughts drifting as she
snuggled into the warmth of the sleeping bag, of the man beside her.

The rain had stopped, and through the broken window she
could see the dull haze of an orange sunset, signaling the day’s end.

The storm had passed.

She’d leave…soon.

Minutes later, Renate’s breathing was strong and even, the
sound of sleep.

It seemed even powerful beings needed their rest. Her lips
curled into a smile and her eyes slid closed.

* * * * *

She forced a smile at the elderly man beside her, whose
breath smelled of garlic and cigars as he droned on about his investment
portfolio and how much money he’d made the last financial year.

She glanced at her husband sitting on her other side, hoping
he’d take the hint and rescue her. But Luke’s interest had long ago been
captured by Felicia, the very blonde, very attractive CEO of some important
organization or another. Ally’s smile turned into a grimace. Clearly he found
the other woman a much more fascinating and attractive dinner companion.

Oh how she wished for something more than the scraps she’d
been handed in the beauty department. Perhaps she wouldn’t be in this mess now,
married for all of four months and the spark between her and Luke already faded
to barely a glimmer.

She tapped Luke’s designer-suited shoulder even as the old
man leaned closer still and continued his self-important oration. Her husband
twisted around with a faint frown. “Yes?”

“Honey, I have a stinking headache. Would you mind—?”

“Of course! You do look pale. Why didn’t you say so
earlier?” He smiled a smile that reeked of satisfaction instead of concern.
“I’ll call Anton and get him to drive you home.”

She stared into his guileless hazel eyes. “Right. Thanks.”

He leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to her brow. And
with his gaze already drifting to his voluptuous dinner companion, he murmured,
“Don’t wait up.”

* * * * *

She jerked awake with a gasp, her skin clammy and heart
thudding. She sat upright, pressing a hand to her forehead and only half-aware
of the brightness of the morning outside that’d long ago chased away any chill
in the air.

Oh, god. Was that how her husband, the supposed love of her
life, had treated her? Was that why something in her subconscious had been so
ready to leave it all behind? Needed to leave it all behind?

Bonnie’s tail thumped on the floor beside her, her black and
white head lifting. Deciding her mistress wasn’t about to combust with emotion,
she dropped her head back on to the floor, her eyes closing.

If only my life were that simple.

She started at little at Renate’s sudden touch. Shadows of
sleep, of her past, faded as his large hand moved up and down her spine,
soothing her—even as something delicious built and built, a desire to replicate
what she’d experienced the night before.

No. Last night she’d succumbed to some kind of sexual
madness, a desperate yearning to be with someone else after so long alone.
That. Was. All.

His hand moved around to her front, beneath the tender swell
of a breast. She froze. The pads of his fingertips skimmed over her nipple. She
shivered involuntarily, arching just a little.

She heard his faint groan a nanosecond before he circled
around the puckered base of her nipple, then suddenly plucked.

The mewl of need was all her own as fragile nerve endings
burst into life. She arched right into the palm of his hand, wanting more. Much
more.

You hate aliens, remember?
a little voice whispered.

Ally stiffened. The sleeping bag rustled as Renate shifted
forward. At her front, his hand trailed downward from her breasts. At her back,
his lips were warm and his tongue wet as he pressed open-mouthed kisses halfway
along her spine and then headed south.

She bowed into his touch, trembling with need and defying
the voice of reason.

When his tongue swirled at the indent on the small of her
back, she gasped at the shudders of sensation rippling deep into her belly and
ever outward. His hand stilled between her thighs, cradling the outer folds of
her pussy with its crisp, dark hairs.

Damn, what I’d do for the luxury of a wax…a Brazilian.

With a throaty growl Renate parted her labia. When he
strummed her clit, all self-conscious thought fled and sensation descended,
reawakening a burning desire that demanded to be sated.

And suddenly making love to this alien was imperative,
suddenly being joined to him felt all too right, the connection with him all
too real.

She twisted to face him, their sleeping bag bunching around
them. She cupped his smooth face in her hands, drowning in the possessive glint
in his stare. Her head lowered slowly, their gazes holding. Then her mouth sank
onto his, flesh on flesh, lips scraping lips, their tongues meeting and
dueling. She closed her eyes for a moment, giving into the sensation of lust
rippling through her like an ever building wave.

When her eyelashes flicked open she was halfway on top of
him. And as their mouths parted and he reclined all the way back, she moved
astride him, feeling so gloriously alive and yet so small and delicate to his
largeness, his power. But it was a feeling of rightness, a feminine knowing
that with him she would always be safe, protected.

Her sigh came out on a quivering breath at the smooth
bunching of his torso muscles beneath her thighs, at his adept hands cupping
her butt and guiding her over his quickly thickening cock.

God, it was so liberating to be naked and astride him while
the green of his slumberous eyes awakened into the animalistic glow of a
predator’s stare, hungry and shameless with need.

Holding the base of his cock, she parted her thighs and
lowered herself toward his thick staff, her cunt muscles clenching the second
his cock nudged her silky-wet heat.

She threw her head back—“Oh, god,”—and sank slowly on to his
shaft, inch by glorious inch, muscles gripping him the whole way down.

His breath abruptly whooshed as her pussy swallowed his cock
right to its very base. She looked down at him, snaring his gaze. His eyes
fairly burned and she smiled a wicked smile then arched her back and began to
rhythmically move up and down, her breasts swaying, her wanton juices
lubricating his cock.

And then his outspread hands were on her hips and he was
meeting her thrust for thrust, faster and harder. Just when she thought she’d
fall from the precipice of sanity, his hands tilted her hips downward so that
she ground against his cock, her clit sliding along his shaft. When the head of
his cock hammered into her G-spot, he paused.

She whimpered frustration, so very close. And he’d deliberately
stopped at that point! She stared at him, aware he’d read in her expression
something between entreaty, anger and shameless lust.

He looked triumphant, knowing.

Her breath abruptly hitched. Her eyes widened then squeezed
shut. She cried out, jerking back as an electric charge blasted directly into
the sensitized flesh deep inside and zapped every nerve ending she had into
life.

What the hell?

Spasm after spasm rocked her from the inside out, pure
voltages of pleasure that had her come like a bomb detonated, falling to pieces
around him and making her only half aware of his release as he came in great,
shooting spurts.

His eyes glazed. He cried out her name, baring his
razor-sharp back teeth.

She slumped forward, the force of her climax leaving her sated
but also drained. “You did that—that electric jolt thing?” she finally asked,
voice breathless.

His smile betrayed his satisfaction. “Apparently it’s
something your human males lacked.”

“You could say that.” She squirmed a little, aware his cock
was already hardening inside her.

It seemed endurance was yet another thing her male
counterparts lacked.

She closed her eyes, so very tempted to go for round three.

Renate’s sudden bark of laughter was rich with humor and
deep satisfaction. “As much as I want to indulge, my greedy little kitten, your
human body can only take so much.”

Her face heated. She couldn’t ever forget he could tap into
her emotions. “Yes. Of course. I…I guess I should clean myself up. All I can
smell is sex.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” he drawled, one dark brow raised.

She giggled, giving into her see-sawing emotions, the
surreal sense of hysteria. “I don’t suppose anyone is going to call in and
notice—”

Her breath caught at the serious mask settling into place
over his face. Her voice cracked. “Will they?”

“If the other males should happen to come near, you will
experience something we call trans-alien hypersensitivity. Their thoughts are
centered on you now, and the closer they get to you the more heightened their
awareness of you—and you of them.” His nostrils flared, hands curling into
fists. “And the easier they will find you.”

He cared enough to want her as his alone?

She swallowed back a whole load of hope and grasped
practicalities as though a life preserver in a churning sea of emotion. “This
hypersensitivity…is that what helps you to exploit my mind?”

“To a degree. Although many would argue it’s your emotions
we manipulate. We feel what you feel.” He shrugged. “And if you’re terrified,
angry, ashamed…we can absorb the worst of it.”

Bonnie clambered to her paws before stretching her forelegs
out in front for all she was worth. She trotted over to them as Ally retrieved
her clothes.

“Then I have to make sure your alien ‘friends’ never find
me.” Denim shorts halfway up her thighs, Ally paused, throwing him a look of
dawning comprehension. “This hypersensitivity is what I felt with you, wasn’t
it? Even before I saw you I had this unsettling feeling I wasn’t alone.”

He nodded and stood. Her mouth watered. His tall body was
built like an athlete’s, rolling in tough, sinewy muscle. Everything was hard…

She looked away and concentrated on securing her shorts’
button. As he tugged his pants up his thighs and over his cock, she dragged her
tee over her head, her breasts.

God, she’d never been this aware of anyone. Aware of a man’s
body, her own body. It was as though every one of her senses were
heightened—no, consumed at the very sight and touch of him.