Authors: Lizzie Lynn Lee
A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
Orient Fevre
ISBN #
978-0-85715-350-0
©Copyright Lizzie Lynn Lee 2010
Cover Art by Lyn Taylor ©Copyright November 2010
Edited by Delaney Sullivan
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank,
, Lincoln,
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated
total-e-burning.
ORIENT FEVRE
Lizzie Lynn Lee
Chapter One
All I wanted was a quick fuck with no strings attached.
It was a bad idea, even in my half-buzzed condition. I knew I shouldn’t be messing around with him, but I couldn’t help it. He was one of those impossible-to-resist men, especially as he’d been eye-candying me since I’d walked into this bar.
He wasn’t a typical tall, dark stranger, mind you. From across the floor, I saw his eyes were so shockingly blue, they could have melted you into a puddle with one look. I guessed he was somewhere between thirty and thirty-five—an outlander like me. He sat near the tap, nursing a glass of beer as he fixed his gaze on me. His long raven hair, draped over his shoulders like a curtain of black silk, seemed to blend into the darkness of the bar. A black button-up shirt and tight, faded jeans wrapped his well-built body. When he turned around to reach something behind the counter, I noticed he had the most fantastic ass I’d ever seen. I’d bet all my ten fingers he had a magnificent cock, too. He was irresistible, just like a piece of over-priced gourmet chocolate that you drooled on when you’ve starved yourself from dieting.
I chugged down my Bloody Mary and decided to hit on him. The Howling Owl was jam-packed with outlanders and trans-ship crews who had boarded the Ernye suborbital station this weekend. He eyed me as I waded through the crowd. His lips curled into a wicked smile. He was probably amused I was bold enough to approach him.
“Hello. I have a proposition for you. Interested?”
His smile turned into a full-blown leer. “Well, I’ll be damned. You’re a kitty cat.”
“How did you know?”
“I have a thing for cat women. They’re exceptionally hot.”
I grinned. “Back to my proposition.”
“Okay. Shoot.”
“I’ll give you a thousand credits for a quickie.” I nodded to the direction of the coat closet. “In there would be fine. I only need about five minutes to come.”
The smile vanished and his eyes widened, looking incredulous. “You’re propositioning me? Sex for money?”
“That’s exactly what I meant.”
“For a thousand credits?”
“It’s a reasonable price, don’t you think? Most outlanders out here earn less in a week’s wage.”
He looked at me from head to toe, scrutinizing the way I was dressed. I was out of uniform tonight since this was my R and R. I had donned my usual black leather ensemble, slapped on some extra makeup, and let my hair down for this man-hunting occasion. His gaze lingered a bit too long on my deep cleavage, then on my belly and legs. I knew I looked very presentable, but he noticed something off about me.
“You’re drunk.”
Well, I was a light drinker and a Bloody Mary was enough to send me tipsy. “If you’re not interested, say so. I can find another willing cock.”
“I don’t want to take advantage of a drunken woman.”
“But this woman doesn’t mind being taken advantage of.”
His lush eyebrows furrowed.
I took it as he wasn’t interested in my offer. “Nice seeing you.”
He grabbed my arm as I turned around to leave. His grip was a little too firm.
“Change your mind?”
“I think I should take you home. Where do you live?”
I laughed, wrenching off his hand. “I don’t want to go home until I’ve scratched my itch, Mister. Now, let go of me.”
He slid down from the barstool. On his feet, his height towered above mine. He was at least six-feet-eleven, if not taller, a fine stud in his prime. I only came up to his shoulder, and by all means, I wasn’t a pixie either.
“Fine, kitten, I’ll scratch your itch, but you’ll have to do it my way.”
“Define what you mean by ‘my way’?”
“It involves a blindfold, cuffs, and an all-access pass. Backdoor included.”
“Ooh. Kinky are you?”
“Interested?”
“Do I have to pay you extra for that?”
“I’m throwing out a lot of freebies tonight.”
If I hadn’t been half-buzzed, I probably would have declined his offer. His grip tightened with possession as he undressed me with his liquid eyes. His gaze peeled off my clothes one by one. I felt as though some invisible hands had caressed me, causing a shiver of lust to tingle at the depths of my sex. My nipples tightened and a surge of heat flushed through my veins. No ordinary male could have done such a thing to me, not unless he was a hybrid. Our kind responded well, among one another, based on the pheromones we exuded. Then it hit me. He was a shifter, too. Judging from the way he carried himself, and the way my inner cat reacted, he could be a draconian from the D’Keghan system. I’d heard they were famous for being territorial, and had an unruly appetite for sex when it came to bed sports. My guts told me this guy was dangerous. I probably should have said I’d changed my mind now. I really should have. But damn, he had a fantastic ass!
“Deal.” Somewhere, deep in my mind, my rational thoughts screamed that I was a hopeless dope. “Where to?”
“My place, of course,” he growled. “Let’s go.”
I narrowed my eyes. The words “his place” rang an alarm in my brain. “Just so you know, I was in the Legion for seven years. I was a full-fledged Lieutenant when I left the army. I can easily kick your ass if you try something creepy. I’m not into icky stuff or pain.”
He burst out laughing. “Don’t worry, kitty-cat. I’m only a simple, your-neighbourhood-horny kinda guy. It’s not every day a pretty woman comes to me offering money for sex. I can’t refuse this offer, now can I? And no, I don’t hurt woman. I just like to have sex with a little kink.”
“Well, good enough for me.” If I’d been sober, I probably would have said things differently. Or maybe I wouldn’t have been messing around with him in the first place. But damn, I was half-buzzed and only a week ago, I’d called off the engagement to my fiancé, Mac. I’d found him with his pants down, banging his own assistant in the supply room of his office. He’d apologised and had hounded me for the last few days to make things right, but I felt I still needed comfort and to rebound. Shallow as it seemed, the moment Orient Fevre had boarded the Ernye space station, I’d decided to get even with Mac.
I hadn’t wanted to believe what I’d seen when I’d caught them. I’d stood there, asking in a calm tone to my red-faced fiancé and his tramp if the fuck was good, better than mine? They didn’t say anything, of course, as I took off my engagement ring and placed it on the table they’d been using to fornicate. I’d wished Mac a good life and a hundred ugly children.
When I’d gone back to my stateroom, my initial shock had turned into full-blown anger. Damn it, what had I done wrong? I wasn’t a compulsive nagger. I was quite pleasant to look upon with a simple swipe of mascara and lipstick. I fucked excellently and I was also a good cook. So, why was it I’d still lost my fiancé to some skanky blonde tramp? I couldn’t figure it out. I wasn’t a mopey kind of girl, so I thought if Mac could bang that whore on the side, I should get me some stud. Getting laid was a nicer alternative than wallowing in a gallon of ice cream and self-pity. Life was too short to be sulking about after an asshole named Mackenzie Phillip.
My hired hunk and I walked out from the Howling Owl and got into a hover cab. We went to his place, which turned out to be a penthouse in the
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked me from the kitchen.
“If I have one more drink, you’ll be better off going solo tonight. I’m wrecked.”
He returned a few minutes later with a cup of hot coffee in his hand. “My secret brew. It’ll sober you up. I like my kitty alive and frisky for the party.”
I took the coffee and had a sip. I cringed. It was freaking awful. I’d rather skinny dip in a tar pit than finish the cup. “Yuck.”
“It’s bitter, I’m afraid, but it does the trick. My name is Le—”
“Ta-ta-ta-ta. I don’t need to know your name. Too personal. This is only a quick fuck, after all.”
“Only a quick fuck?” He shot me his signature wicked smile again. “Kitty-cat, you don’t know who you’re dealing with. You won’t find the term ‘quick fuck’ in my dictionary. The moment you walked in here, you belonged to me, pretty kitty. I decide how quick our fuck will be.”
“Oh great, another chauvinist.”
“You have a problem with that?”
“Only when I’m sober.”
“Good thing you aren’t. Now, a couple more sips.”
I don’t know what mojo he had over me, but I found myself obeying him like a good girl. The bitter brew seared my palate. Hot flushes swept over me. My nipples tingled and deep, mournful aches stirred in my pussy. “Geezes. What kind of stuff did you put in this coffee? I’m hot.”
He looked at me from top to bottom again, his smile crooked. “Yes, you’re hot, kitten. Very hot.”
“I mean, literally. I’m burning up.”
“I happen to love sweaty hot sex, too.”
“Har-de-har-har. I didn’t know you’re a comedian.”
“Enough talking, then. Now, strip.”
“You strip. I want to see if I get a run for my money.”
He tsked with impatience. He snatched the cup from my hands and flung it on the coffee table. The cup clanked, the coffee spilling. With so little effort, he seized my waist, lifted me, and turned my body upside down across the armrest of the sofa. Before I could register what was happening, he’d delivered two hard blows on my behind, spanking me as if I were a misbehaving child.
“Oww!” Red-hot pain burned my flesh. If I hadn’t been wearing leather pants, the spank would have probably left a mark on my ass. “What the fuck, man?”
“Are you going to be good?” he purred. “We’re playing this game my way, remember?”
“I don’t remember you saying anything about spanking.”
“I thought I’d mentioned that. Never mind, I like to improvise.” He ran his palms on the curve of my spine, my waist, then along the swell of my ass, feeling me as if I was his favourite new toy. His deft fingers curled on my waistband, undid my zipper, and yanked my pants down to my ankles.
“Hey!” I tried to get up.
He pushed me back with my belly down and my ass upturned to him like a delicate virgin offering.
“Nice,” he hissed.
His hands squeezed each of my ass cheeks, while he ran his thumbs along my crevice. I shivered when his fingers grazed my cotton panties, rubbing my perineum, then my sex lips. His touches sparked fire within me, causing my inner cat to get excited. My pussy clenched. I creamed. He noticed I was wet from his curious exploration.
“Damn, babe, you’re hot.” Then he ripped my panties off like nobody’s business.
I gasped. His hand returned, directly cupping my pussy this time. I moaned as he spooned himself behind me. He braced his free hand next to my shoulder as he lowered his head, kissing my nape. He licked the back of my ear as his naughty fingers stroked my pussy lips, petting me as if I was his beloved kitty-cat. I whimpered. An exquisite shiver of pleasure surged from my sex straight to my spine, paralysing me for a moment. Fuck, this man knew how to make a woman fucking turned on. I craned my neck in his direction, wanting his kiss. His lips plastered mine, tongue plunging into my mouth. He kissed me greedily—a sweet, beer-tasting kiss, plundering me with his tongue the way his fingers plundered my pussy.
I stiffened when he carefully parted my sex lips and lanced his fingers directly into my entrance. He penetrated me, burying them deeply until the pad of his palm smashed against my vulva. I squirmed. My pussy clasped around his fingers from the luscious intrusion. He rubbed me, so tenderly and full of curiosity, as if this was the first time he had ever explored a woman’s cunt. Then, he finger-fucked me with the precision only a sex aficionado could master.
I tore my mouth from him, gasping. “Oh.”
He sucked a hard exhalation through his teeth, face flaring with the expression of disbelief. His startling blue eyes shone lamp-like. “Well, I’ll be damned. All these years…”
“What?” I mumbled.
His fingers quickened, hitting my G-spot. Instant brimstone exploded within me the moment he stimulated my special spot.
“Gotcha,” he rasped, almost too arrogant. “You’re mine, kitty-cat.”
I trembled. A jolt of pleasure surged through me. He plastered his mouth on mine again, claiming me in a jealous kiss while he rubbed me harder. I writhed but he kept me still with his body weight, making me helpless against his delicious tortures. My muscles tensed. My juice gushed and my breath stalled in my throat. I exploded so hard the world disappeared from my view. His mouth muffled my scream.
He let me go to catch my breath. I jerked, sucking a lungful of air as my pussy milked his juice-soaked fingers. I clawed the sofa, heart hammering to my throat. I took a deep breath while waiting for the tides to ebb away. He pulled out his fingers and brought them to my mouth, wanting me to taste it.