The Wanting (D'Shar Men) (4 page)

His arm on her elbow was meant to remove the chance for an escape. His clever plan backfired when desire erupted through his body like hot lava. The feel of her petal soft skin beneath his, seared him. The dream he’d longed to know was eclipsed by the reality.

His steps accelerated as he led her from the ballroom floor.

“Where are we headed?” she asked.

Her breathy alto entranced him, and it was all he could do not to scoop her into his arms and head for his bedroom at a dead run. He should stop. Explain to Zasha what it meant to lay with him.

But the fire in his blood wouldn’t allow for polite conversation. It was by sheer force of will he functioned at all.

“Somewhere a little more private,” he said.

The scent of her arousal floated up to his sensitive nose. The salty sweet mixture he knew must coat her inner thighs called to him. But it was the “O” shape her mouth formed that broke him.

The moment they rounded the corner of a hallway he pressed her supple form against the wall. His hand wound in her wealth of inky black hair. A sharp pull of her ponytail arched her neck. The world around them went up in flames as he bent to kiss her mouth, devouring her lips like a starving man at a buffet.

His tongue learned every nuance of her mouth. The sweet tang of the fruit punch she drank mixed with a darker taste that was simply her. He twisted the warm weight of her hair tighter. The added tension on her scalp pulled a whimper from her throat that made his cock jump.

His hands massaged up the taught muscles of her legs. His knuckles brushed against her inner thighs. He wanted to see the sexy vixen who had taunted him. It was her veiled admission of attraction that had driven him into action.

“I want you to taste me.”

“Hold your skirt up.”

She obeyed his command in a seamless manner that made his dick harden farther. Her thighs were slick with her juices, and his impatient fingers were soaked before they moved her panties aside. Two fingers slid into her hot heat, and stirred a slow circle inside her tight walls before he retreated.

“You’re so wet,” he said.

The moan of protest she issued was silenced when he leaned back on his heels to meet her gaze.

He slipped his cum-laden fingers into his mouth and released an appreciative hum. His mouth feasted on her nectar until his fingers were clean. The pop of his mouth’s reluctant release of his digits was audible in the stillness of the darkened hallway.

“I had my taste, and I could eat you for days, but first I want to hear you say it.”

“Eat my pussy, Phelan!”

Her command was one he was all too happy to comply with. His hands were swift as he slid one of her legs over his shoulder and snapped the elastic of her thong.

He marveled as she continued to flow like a river over the fingers he used to separate her lips. The pretty pink flesh he revealed made him growl as he dove forward. His tongue rolled along the engorged bundle of nerves as her sweet taste filled his mouth. He was an addict, and she was the drug as each sip of her flavor and lick of his tongue took him higher.

“Yes, Phelan!”

The sound of his name on her lips earned her two thick fingers. She gripped him so hard he swore. If she felt this good around his fingers, he could just imagine the fit around his cock. He thrust inside her with a sure steady rhythm. The feel of her nails in his scalp a pain he liked.

When he leaned in to add his eager mouth to the mix she swore. The harsh words made him grin against her mound. “I want you to come on my face, Zasha.”

The vibration of his voice against her core made her buck, and the suction of her clit into his mouth made her cry his name again. He curled his tongue inside her as far as he could go and found a spot that made her swear like a sailor. Her leg tightened around his shoulder as she rode the stiff tongue he’d begun to delve into her channel. A tiny quiver yielded to a tidal wave as she clamped down on his tongue. The gush of the liquid he craved flooded his mouth, and he captured every drop.

She never thought in a million years she would be here. The reality was so much better than the watered down fantasies. She could not stop the cry of delight that left her lips when he scooped her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. The steps he took more fleet and sure than a human’s as the scenery flew by in a blur. What seemed like seconds later, they entered his room with the door shut firmly behind them. His black eyes were full of admiration and lust as he set her onto the floor in front of his bed.

His nimble fingers traced a path over her features as she did the same. Eager to learn the curves of the face she’d dreamed of for so long. She thought the sight of her brown flesh against his tan was a beautiful contrast.

Her breath hitched in her throat at the admission. Her thigh pressed together in a failed attempt to contain the creaminess that flowed onto her inner thighs. If what he said was true, the pull she felt to him had an explanation.

“W-why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you were too young for all the things I will demand of you,” he said. “The bond between us is unbreakable, and as such, I felt you deserved to enjoy your youth.”

The thoughtfulness he’d shown melted her on the inside. Lust stirred and shaken with a deeper emotion filled her as his past actions were explained.

God, he was so beautiful. His tan chest must have been carved by sculptures hands and his taut abs jumped as she raked her nails down them. Her eyes lowered to his engorged cock, and she felt her stomach flutter. He was about eight inches long and thick, with a swollen blue head that yielded a drop of blue pre-cum. That light blue matched the light cerulean glow that dusted the rest of his body. She knew the Shar achieved this glow when they experienced strong emotions. That she could provoke such a response made her lean in to lick the drops away. It was one of the first things they’d explained when they arrived. His sugary tang lingered like candy on her tongue.

Careful to relax the muscles in her throat, she took him deep. Her eyes rapt on his face as she studied him beneath her lashes. With his lips parted and his face flushed with passion, he was beautiful. This was the side of Phelan she wanted to see for so long. He snapped the band of her ponytail holder in two and buried his fingers in the hair that escaped. When more of his sweet nectar exploded on her tongue, she moved her greedy mouth faster.

He helped her to her feet and moved them over to stand beside the bed. A gentle push toppled her to the mattress, and she spread her legs wide to accommodate his large frame. Their sweat mingled as he pinned her down with the lower half of his body. His breath was a tickle on her ear before he moved down to bite the skin of her neck. Her nerves were on fire as the prick of his sharp teeth made her shriek. She felt her delicate skin split to yield the crimson liquid that gave her life.

His whisper of, “You are in me now, Zasha.” The most erotic thing she’d ever heard.

Zasha looked up to view Phelan’s lips, swollen from kisses and stained red. The sight a combination that horrified as it evoked foreign urges. Her nails clawed and ripped at his back leaving blue trails of blood in its wake. Frantic, she ground against his stiffness. She needed relief from the cruel torture of his cock against her entrance.

Animalistic snarls came from his throat as he lined himself and drove deep. The scream that left her mouth as her barrier tore was high shrill.

“I can’t stop, Zasha, can’t slow down,” he said.

The feverish words were spoken in Sharian. The foreign language was an intimacy that made her gush fresh juices. There were few humans who were fluent in Sharian, and she’d never imagined she would hear it in this context when she learned it back in school. Calloused fingertips dug into her hips as he pinned her to the bed. His engorged member filled every inch of her there was. The bump of his head against her cervix made her twinge as her walls clamped down around him.

“You’re so tight, so tight and hot around my cock.”

Awe filled her when her walls adapted to his girth, and the pain took a back seat to the pleasure that unfurled inside her. His hands tilted her hips, and she saw stars as he hit the cluster of nerves inside her.

The wet sound of his balls as they slapped against her was music to her ears as her core quivered. Her walls clamped down as the pressure built up exploded. Moments later, Phelan joined Zasha in oblivion. With a roar, his powerful spray rocketed inside her.

Chapter Four

The early day sunshine that filtered in through the window woke Zasha from a fitful slumber. Her first moments of awareness were filled with aches and pains. But those paled in comparison to her shame. She had let him take her any way he pleased, begged him to at some point. Her face grew hot as she cast a glance over her shoulder, relieved to discover him asleep. She had been naïve to think they could satisfy their curiosity and continue on as before.

Shar men aren’t like human. We mate for life
.

The words that hadn’t penetrated through her sex-crazed haze were loud and clear. What the hell had she been thinking? Wait, she hadn’t been. That was the problem. There must be some sort of predisposition to aliens ingrained in her genetic make-up. Because her experience, both past and present, showed Johnson woman plus an alien male amounted to an addled brain. How could she make the same mistake as her mother? To become so swept away by emotions your common sense failed.

Not that she would ever place Phelan in the same category as Tavel. Tow-haired with strange emerald blue eyes, a squared jaw, and thin lips, Tavel was the reverse of Phelan. But the similarities were still too close for comfort. A lapse in judgment one night lead to misconstrued emotions; that kind of instantaneous affection wasn’t safe. It consumed you, mind, body, and soul. Left you blinded to the reality of who that person was. This had been one huge error in judgment, but if she wasn’t careful it could easily lead to more. Her mother, Tatiana Johnson, had fallen victim to what she thought was love. She would not disgrace her mother’s memory by being the second.

Before Tavel entered their lives, Tatiana had been a well-oiled machine. An office manager at a law firm by day and a single mother by night, she ran a tight ship, at home as well as in the workplace. Widowed by a fire that destroyed everything she owned during her pregnancy, Tatiana was an independent woman with focus and an intensity that could make you squirm. It was an attitude she’d passed on to her daughter.

“Adapt or die” was the adage Zasha had adopted in her honor when she found herself on her own way too soon.

Grief struck her fresh as she eased her frame from beneath the heavy weight of her lover’s arm. She held her breath in her lungs as she slipped from the bed. Her bare feet were silent on the carpet as she gathered scattered articles of clothing. Clumsy fingers pulled her costume over her head. The sound of the zipper pulled up her black boots seemed too loud in the massive room. Tense she paused to see if Phelan would stir. He looked so innocent in his sleep.