The Abduction (18 page)

Samantha
gasped and grabbed his shoulder out of reflex as his exploring tongue slipped between her legs. His tongue was hot and wet, and lightly textured with what felt like millions of small, gentle bumps seemingly built with this single purpose in mind. Her heart leapt in her throat as his tongue rotated in slow, long circles.

“You taste ‘
mazing,” he mumbled against her thigh.

He moaned and his hands shot up to grab at her hips, forcing her legs further apart as his mouth worked her. His lips and tongue sucked
and pulled at every fold until finally finding the small round nub near Samantha’s front that made her squirm violently in his grasp.

He shoved his face deeper between her legs
, sucking and licking her clit in a fevered pace that pushed every thought aside from him out of Samantha’s mind. She cried out and dug her nails into his shoulder as he shoved his tongue deep inside. She grabbed a handful of his hair and ground her hips against his working mouth as his long, ribbed tongue worked faster, moving in and out in a rapid continuous motion; electricity shocking every nerve in her body and sending her floating on a wave of amber heat.

Samantha felt him smile against her as her legs trembled and she felt herself getting close. He shifted his attention back to her clit, and
massaged her opening with his chin. The double sensations of rolling and sucking heat nearly sent her over the edge, and she writhed on the table and raised her hips as she tilted her head back and moaned.

Rikist pulled back, his lips slick, breathing heavy and eyes wild. The cat-like pupils were dilated to the point they nearly overtook the glimmering irises that stared
down at her as he wiped his mouth with the back of one hand. Rikist’s nostrils flared as his hands went to the front of his pants and dropped them as far as the leg brace would allow.

Samantha lowered her eyes from his broad chest to his tapered waist
above long, muscular thighs. The wound on his left thigh was healing, but the jagged line of stitches that was surely going to scar stood out starkly beneath the layer of mostly-absorbed protein bandage. She started to inquire about his leg when she gasped at the sight of his beginning erection, and struggled to look away. She felt herself tighten again and quickly slid off the table to stand in front of him.

My God, that is one big cock.

She laughed at Rikist’s shocked and disappointed expression. She touched his chest reassuringly. “I’ll be right back.”

She hurried into her bedroom, practically dove for the box under the bed, and grabbed a jar of
warming lube. She thought about grabbing a condom, but considering the revelation of her recently discovered sterility she didn’t bother. Besides, skin on skin felt much better anyway.

Rikist looked up as she entered,
and pushed away from where he leaned against the table, holding his pants up. He looked annoyed.

“If you do not
want to,” he said slowly. “You could have—”

Samantha popped the lid off the lube with her thumb, and squeezed a quarter-sized amount into her palm.

“Relax, Romeo,” she said.

She glanced between his legs
again, and then poured out more.

She stepped closer and gently ran her fingers across his tip in a circular motion, and Rikist shuddered at her touch. She smiled, drinking in the pleased and slack expression on his beautiful face, as she slid her hand down the curved length of him, pressing against the matt of fur
as she slicked him up. The thrill of having so much power over him heightened her excitement, and she fought to control the urge to just pounce on him. She pulled back slowly until her palm slid across the ridged head, smearing a drip of slick fluid that leaked out of his tip. Her skin tingled with heat as the warming agents in the lube kicked in, and she slid her hand back down toward his body.

Rikist closed his eyes and swallowed, his body
trembling at her touch. “What… what is that?”

“Something to help
things move easier.”

Rikist
licked his lips and opened his eyes to slits as Samantha’s hand picked up speed, and he reached out to cup one of her firm breasts. His thumb ran back and forth across the round nipple, and he bent and licked a wet line up Samantha’s neck to suck gently on the underside of her jaw.

Rikist’s skin was hot within her hand, almost feverish, and she ached to squeeze that heat between her legs.
Samantha’s mouth went dry and her vision swam against the ache in her core, her body seeking a need that she’d left unfulfilled for too long. Even the last few times with her ex had been brief and angry, and never so… thrilling and exciting. She longed to be able to be held in a man’s arms again. To feel loved and wanted. To let go and feel that connection with someone again.

Rikist suddenly
lifted Samantha and laid her onto the table so that her legs and ass hung off the edge. He scooted closer and then leaned over so that her breasts pressed up against his chest as he kissed her neck and collarbone. Samantha pressed on his chest.

“
Is your leg OK for you to stand and—”

“It’s
fine.”

“I’m just saying…
”

“
You talk too much!”

Samantha
stilled as she felt Rikist’s erection rub against her inner thigh as he gently lifted her legs to wrap around his waist. He used one hand to guide himself, and rubbed his slick tip against her folds, teasing. Samantha groaned and reached for him.

“God, Rikist
—”

He
slowly pressed his length into her, hissing with delight.

Samantha let out a moan as he pressed up against her cervix; his length sheathed and wide width stretching her beyond what she thought capable. She wiggled against the
table, the sheer size of him enough to make her writhe and moan on the borderline between pleasure and pain as he filled her. She patted one of his shoulders when he simply stood there breathing.

“You can move now.”

Rikist shook with effort as he slowly pulled out, every thick inch of him, until just the tip grazed the edges of her folds. He grinned, and lifted her right leg to rest on his shoulder so that she spread wider to accommodate his size. He let out a loud, shaky breath, and entered her again, slower than before. His eyes watched her carefully with a ferocity that made Samantha’s skin crawl with anticipation. Samantha writhed and wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and shoulder, her insides aching at the tight fit yet screaming out for more.

After a few more slow rounds she loosened up enough for
Rikist to move more freely, and he gradually picked up speed. He wrapped one arm around her narrow waist and lifted her lower half higher off the table so that he could have more control over his thrusts, and eventually he picked up a rhythm that sent shockwaves through both bodies at each meeting of skin.

Samantha
tilted her head to look down her front past her bouncing breasts, to his flat abs as the muscles tightened and bunched as he thrust into her, and she got the quickest of glimpses of his slick penis as he pulled out before ramming harder and faster into her. The sight thrilled her, and she felt herself rising once again on a cresting wave ready to burst.

Rikist’s
left foot slipped on the tiled floor, and he gasped as he fought to keep his balance. He grimaced apologetically as he leaned his hands heavily onto the table, putting his weight on his right side as he caught his breath.

Samantha touched his face. “Is your
knee hurting?”

He nodded, his cheeks red.
“Sorry…”

She lifted her head and kissed him.
“Pull out.”

Rikist hesitated, his face ashamed, and then did as she said and stepped back. Samantha climbed off the table and guided him back to
his chair.

“Sit,” she said.

Rikist sat back, grimacing as he stretched out his left leg. “Samantha, I—”

“Oh, shut up already.”

Samantha put her hands on his shoulders and hoisted herself up into his lap. She batted her eyelashes seductively as she lowered herself onto his still erect penis. Rikist closed his eyes and smiled as she slid down toward his base. He let out a strangled guffaw as she wriggled her hips, and his hands gripped her waist and rotated her in a figure eight across his lap.

Samantha cried out, the alternating pressure on her insides hitting spots she’d never thought possible
. Jolts of burning energy shot up her spine and made her legs quiver. She dug her nails into his skin as she gripped his neck and back, and buried her face in his hair as she suddenly came with an intensity that she’d never experienced before. She let go of her inhibitions and cried out, her mouth open and eyes squeezed shut as she pulsed against him.

For a few brief moments the only thing
s that mattered to Samantha were Rikist and the thrusting cock between her legs. The walls around them could crumble, the house catch fire, or the sun smash against the moon. None of it mattered. Nothing except the rolling amber waves and bursts of sexual fireworks bouncing around inside her skull.

Rikist moaned, and he looked down as he felt her wetness drip down the center of his groin. He swallowed and his eyes rolled back as his grip shifted to the back of her ass, cupping her rear and
ramming her up and down the length of his throbbing penis.

Drifting back to Earth, Samantha smiled
and kissed Rikist’s parted lips. She ran her tongue along his lips, tracing the outline of his fangs, and sucked on his tongue. She scratched her nails down his chest, making him cry out, and then pressed her elbows against his shoulders to giver her leverage to control her movements as she rotated her hips in a small circle.

“Shri tsi ka…” Rikist cursed, his eyes closed. “Tra si…”

Rikist’s shoulders and back worked as he voraciously thrust again and again against Samantha’s rotating hips. Samantha grinned, wanting him to come as hard as she had, and tightened her inner muscles as she bore down on him. Rikist let out a moan, and his lips parted as his jaw went slack and his eyes closed. He buried his face in Samantha’s neck as his body quivered for the last few strokes. Gold stars dotted Samantha’s vision, and she dug her nails into his striped back as she felt him finish in a rushing gush of liquid heat that filled her and left her limp on his trembling lap.

Samantha’s
heartbeat slowed as she leaned against him, and a tear rolled down her cheek as she opened her eyes. Krissik’s face came in and out of focus, and she blinked several times to clear her vision. His eyes were closed, and a bead of sweat dripped from his temple down his relaxed and very satisfied face. He took a deep breath, and his eyes fluttered open, the amber irises alive with more raw emotion than Samantha had ever seen; possession, happiness, and uncertainty.

He opened his mouth to speak,
and then looked away, his jaw tight.

Samantha touched his cheek, turning him back to her. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I never thought I would do this again.” He kissed her and leaned his forehead against hers. “Just… been hard.”

“We both have ghosts we’re dealing with.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded against him. “Let’s leave them in the closet for tonight.”

She ran her hands up his arms, fingers tracing the defined patterns of muscle, and pushed gently on his shoulders.

“Help me off.”

Rikist
licked his lips, and then slowly pushed upward on her hips and helped her step to the side. Samantha stepped back and hissed, pressing her thighs together. Krissik’s hand hovered in the air above her, as if wanting to touch her but afraid to make contact.

“Did I hurt you?”

Samantha smiled and then giggled uncontrollably as she wobbled to the nearest chair and sat. She shook her head and waved him away.

“No, no… that was freaking out of this world.” She snorted as she fought to keep from laughing. “
Literally. I’m just not going to be able to walk right for the next week.” He didn’t seem to understand, so she pointed to his crotch, “You are very large.”

Krissik
’s mouth twisted in a proud, sideways grin. He shifted on the chair and smirked. “You seem to have enjoyed it very much.”

Samantha blushed, and then stood.
“I’m going to go shower. Do you want to watch a movie after?”

“Yes.”

“What kind do you like?”

“No matter.” Rikist shrugged.
“Only one rule.”

She
lifted on eyebrow. “And that is?”

“I get to shower with you.”

Rikist’s leg still hadn’t loosened up two days later, and Samantha began to worry that he’d caused irreparable damage to his knee during their escape. He had blown her off, waving away her concern; though did not complain when she suggested he take another day off to rest. So they’d spent the morning together at her stand and the afternoon canning strawberries and Samantha trying to teach Rikist how to bake—a treat considering wheat flour and sugar were not present on his home planet. He’d been in seventh-heaven doing constant taste tests—to the point nearly half of the ingredients never made it into the oven.

An apple pie cooled on the window ledge as Samantha and Rikist reclined on the back porch steps, sipping glasses of wine
and watching the final rays of sunset. Samantha fought back a grin as she glanced down at the bubbles in Rikist’s glass; he’d snuck in some of the lemon-lime soda in the back of her fridge to take off the edge.

Rikist took a sip of his drink and idly ran the back of his hand against Samantha’s calf
, letting his left leg fully extend. In the dying light his profile seemed exceptionally sharp and square; his shoulders solid rocks beneath the red sky and floating dandelion seeds. He leaned his head back to peer at her on the steps above him and smiled softly.

“You are very beautiful in this light, you know that?”

“Only in this light?” Samantha laughed. “You do realize it’s pretty much dark.”

“All the time
then.” His smile spread. “Especially when you blush.”

“I’m not blushing.”

He chuckled and looked out into the dark backyard. “So is this all you do?”

Samantha frowned. “What do you mean?”

“This. What we have been doing the last few days.”

She glowered down at him. His English had finally smoothed out for the most part, so now anything he said could not be blamed on his
poor translation.

“I don’t just sit around on my ass all day, you know.” She crossed her arms. “Just because I don’t man some ship and command—”

“I did not say it was bad!” He laid a hand on her thigh and squeezed. “I think it’s nice.”

“Nice.”

“The quiet, and slow pace.” His face went solemn. “A serenity I have never had before.”

Samantha licked her lips. “Is
that something that you could get used to?”

Rikist hesitated, and took a long drink of his wine. Samantha frowned, knowing he was buying time.
They hadn’t fully discussed the option of Rikist living there permanently. Samantha secretly hoped that he would give up the idea of trying to get home he’d hinted at while they’d baked, though she wasn’t about to put herself fully out there only to meet with disappointment. Rikist glanced at her from over his glass, and winked as he finished draining it.

“Not sure
,” he drawled slowly, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I was hoping to get a little more tail in my idea of paradise.”

Samantha tried to fight back against the sudden grin that threatened to take over her face, and she shook her head and socked him in the shoulder.

“And I was hoping to have a little more manpower around here for such a high payment.”

“You told me to take the day off!”

“Because you’re hopping around like Forrest Gump—”

His face scrunched up.
“Who?”

“He’s
a—”

A sudden crash in the field beyond the light of the back porch brought their heads up.

“What was that?” Samantha whispered.

Rikist sat up. He peered
into the growing darkness where Samantha pointed. “I think it came from the stables.” He set his glass down and heaved himself off the porch, brushing off his legs. “I will go check on the horses.”

“Do want me to come, too?”

He shook his head and gave a roguish grin. Even in the darkness Samantha could see the heat smoldering in his eyes. “No. You can go inside and get ready.”

She swallowed down the butterflies fluttering up into her throat
. “For what?”

“For what I am going to do to you when I come back,” he said in a low, even tone.

“That shop is closed unless the patron becomes permanent.”

He tilted his head to one side. “I guess that depends on
how convincing the buyer is.” He grinned. “And I can be very convincing.”

Samantha bit her lip and grinned as he
turned and disappeared into the darkness toward the stables. She sat back on the steps and closed her eyes, sipping her wine and listening to the crickets and bullfrog as she enjoyed the heat of the beautiful summer night.

Samantha felt something move in the darkness
to her right, just outside the low back fence. Her eyes popped open and she sat up alertly as her breathing quickened. She set her glass down and slowly stood and walked backwards toward the house.

Maybe a coyote?

She hesitated as the shadows moved and converged into a tall, male figure as it slowly approached with a stealthy grace. Gold eyes appeared amidst the blackness, and Samantha’s heart flipped as reddish hair and striped cheeks appeared in the dim illumination of the back porch light.

Krissik!

She whirled and ran up the two steps and jerked the door open
then shut and locked it behind her. She sprinted through the kitchen toward her bedroom where she kept her father’s shotgun high in the closet.

Samantha couldn’t remember if it was even loaded.

She
heard the front door shudder under a heavy weight, and then the front window crash open. She screamed and pumped her legs faster down the hall as the heavy boots quickly gained. She veered off and dove into the bathroom at the last moment, shutting the door and locking it. She clamored up onto the tub’s edge and slid open the small overhead window. She stood on tiptoes to get as close as she could and screamed.

“Rikist!”

The doorknob jiggled, and Krissik and let out a guttural shriek when he realized it was locked. He slammed his fist against the door.

“Samantha! Riki stra it si!”

“Krissik!” Samantha turned wide-eyed to the shaking door. “Please, don’t do this!”

“
Ir riki stra it si!”

Samantha screamed as
claws dug into the edge of the door panel and forced it open. Krissik’s angry and distressed face glared down at her, as he ripped the door off its hinges and threw it against the wall behind him. He stormed into the bathroom and stopped, his chest heaving.

In the lighting from above the sink, Samantha could see that the last
week—or month, as it could have been back on his planet’s time—had not been kind to Krissik. His gaunt face appeared spotted and pale in the incandescent light, probably from lack of sleep and food, and dark circles bruised under his eyes. His gold eyes were faded, the spark of color snuffed out by the hurt and betrayal swirling in their depths.

“Kri sa ti
, Samantha?” he asked, slower. His eyes widened when he seemed to realize she did not understand.

He knelt
close and took her face in his hands, turning her head to the side. His fingers touched the small bruised dot behind her ear, where the hole from the missing transmitter had closed and nearly healed.

He t
urned her back to look at him, and he frowned at her. He opened his mouth, hesitated, and then shook his head.

“Is
k?”

Samantha stared at his torn face, and without understanding his words knew exactly what he was asking.
She reached up and touched his cheek.

“Because I don’t love you, Krissik.” Her chin trembled and she
struggled to hold the tears in. “And I can’t go back with you.”

Krissik’s face crumbled, and
he clamped his jaw together and closed his eyes.

“I…
ir takir sirik sti…”

He took a shaky breath and
stared at her sadly, and then pressed his lips to hers.

Samantha pushed at his chest and turned
her head to the side. “Kris… no.”

He glare
d at her with wet eyelashes, and tried to kiss her again.

Samantha slapped him across the face. “I said no, damnit!”

Krissik’s eyes went wide with surprised, and his nostrils flared as he took in a deep breath. He leaned in closer, sniffing at Samantha’s neck and hair. He growled, and pushed her roughly onto the floor. He ignored her objections and pressed his face against her stomach and then between her legs.

He jerked backward, his eyes narrowed and lips curled back to bare his fangs. His chest heaved as he growled low in his throat.

“Rikist?”

Samantha’s stomach dropped as he stood, fury clouding his face. She scooted back and cowered against the toilet base, her hands up to shield her face.

“Kris, please—”

Krissik bent
and grabbed her ankle and jerked her forward. Samantha slid across the cool floor tiles, her hands and free leg scrambling to gain traction. She got to her knees when Krissik’s hand latched onto the back of her hair, and he pulled her to her feet and toward the bedroom. Samantha’s eyes burned as she struggled to breathe against the awkward angle in which he held her neck, and she clawed at his arms but to no avail.

He kicked the door open to
her bedroom, and forced her to the bed. Samantha screamed and kicked out, but he slapped her leg away and grabbed her wrists, holding them above her head. Samantha shook her head from side to side, tears streaking her face as she bucked and twisted on the mattress.

“Get
off me!” she screamed. “Get off!”

Krissik leaned over her, his
cheeks wet and eyes narrowed to slits. He kissed her neck and clamped something hard and metal across her wrists before pushing away and standing back.

Samantha looked up at him, surprised, and then tried to lift her hands. They felt weighted and immobile, and she tilted her head back to peer at the blinking light on the
thick metal cuffs. She glared at Krissik.

“What are you doing?” she yelled. “Why—”

“Samantha?”

She
stilled as Rikist’s call came muffled from down the hall.

Krissik pulled his laser pistol from his belt and pressed a button, the lights on the side illuminating as it charged. He tightened his jaw and stared down at her
, fire blazing in his eyes.

“Rak iris tri, Rikist.”

Samantha’s jaw dropped at the venom in Krissik’s voice as he turned and walked out the door, shutting it behind him. She took a breath, dread pooling in her stomach, and screamed.

“Rikist!”

She thrashed against the restraints on her wrists, rolling her body across the mattress. She froze at the sound of glass breaking somewhere down the hall, and then screamed as she put all of her weight into the next turn and rolled off the bed. She landed with a hard thump on her side, and quickly rolled to her knees. She grunted and brought her feet under her, and got into a deep squat. She groaned and forced herself to stand, her hands feeling like they were strapped to eighty-pound weights. She stumbled, and fell against the dresser.

“Rikist!”

She closed her eyes and began to sway her arms back and forth, starting an inch at a time and eventually graduating to long, sweeping arcs. She grit her teeth against the strain on her shoulders and forcibly slammed the device against the side of the heavy oak dresser. The impact jarred her shoulders, and she let out a whimper, before slamming her wrists again.

On the
fourth impact, the mechanism on the restraints beeped, and the lock hissed and flipped open. Samantha gasped and leaned against the dresser, cradling her sore wrists, and then stumbled out the door. She hurried down the darkened hall, her hands brushing against the walls to steady her.

Samantha reached the
entrance to the living room, and froze as a beam of green light flashed across her vision. She yipped and stepped back to a series of growls and dropped to a crouch just inside the hallway.

“Samantha, get back!” Rikist yelled from her right. “Stay down!”

She looked up as Krissik leapt over the sofa, landed on all fours, and brought up his pistol, aiming it at Rikist.

“Rikist
look out!” she shouted.

Rikist’s
eyes went wide before bringing up his own gun. He rolled to the right as Krissik’s laser charged and fired. The light beam cut through the leather sofa and burned a hole the size of Samantha’s fist into the wall.

Krissik
crouched and darted around the corner into the kitchen, putting his back against the refrigerator and charging his weapon. He peeked around the corner but stopped as a beam from Rikist’s gun cut through the edge of the drywall, singing his right ear.

“
Rak iris tri ta!” Krissik yelled out with a snarl.