Kept: An Erotic Anthology (10 page)

Females came in all sizes on Spiri as well, but it was the plump ones you could dig your fingers into, and lay your head against like soft pillows. These were the ones highly sought after. Spiri men were large and hard in almost every regard, so to have such softness under him, K’marr, as King, thought he was truly blessed to have found one as lush and full as Ashlyn.

Mine, my queen, my soul.

He stroked her breasts, savoring their lush fullness, teasing her nipples into hardened points with his fingers. He kissed them, using his lips and teeth to tug, making her gasp and pant before soothing the tips with the flat of his tongue.

Her ragged breathing and trembling spurred him on. He groaned around a mouth full of her breast, catching her aroused scent, instantly addicting him. He slid his hand down across the soft skin of her stomach, his fingers seeking the opening to her slick labia. She arched when he found his target and massaged gently.

So wet and ready for him, he could slide his cock in deep, binding them in one easy thrust, but it wasn’t time for this, yet. Leaving her breasts, his mouth followed the path of his hand, nipping at her skin, loving each responsive little gasp when slight pain mingled with her pleasure.

He pushed her legs wide, viewing the pink prize while he spread her open for his pleasure.

“Oh, my god, no one’s ever…ooooh!” She gasped.

He didn’t want to hear of any other she may have been with, so he buried his face into her puffy, wet folds and licked, pushing all thoughts of past lovers from her brain. Triumph washed over him as he reached his goal, and she mumbled incoherent half words.

He pushed his tongue inside her slick channel, tasting her oozing juices, exploring her warm, wet depths.

He grinned against her folds, feeling her fingers slide into his hair. “Oh, fuck, yes, please….Don’t stop! It’s amazing….So…so…oh!

His tongue probed deeply, his lips pressing firmly against her channel, fucking into her depths, knowing his cock would slide deep, easing the torment of his soul, and binding them for the rest of their natural lives.

As he slid back, she wailed a protest, but he carefully folded back the hood concealing her hard, inflamed clit, kissing it gently before taking it between his lips and sucking hard.

Her body arched and bucked, forcing him to grip her hips, and keep her pinned while she climaxed. Her wails filling the air, her juices flooded across his chin, and he quickly switched to lap up her sweet, tangy cum. He was amazed at her responses, how easily she came for him.

It wasn’t enough; he was greedy for more. Almost lapping her dry, he again sucked on her clit, flicking the engorged tip with his tongue. His wife squealed, her body shaking, coming for second time, her breathing becoming
increasingly ragged. He eased off, bringing her gently down, knowing it was far from over. She didn’t protested as he pulled away, feeling her body heavy and limp. He climbed off the bed, and finished shucking his human clothing, before crawling back onto the bed and over her.

K’marr blinked when he heard her soft little snore. He watched the even rise and fall of her chest, telling him she fell asleep.

He stroked her face, her neck and breasts. “Ashlyn? My soul bond, awaken, I need you my beauty, we must bond.”

No response, she was out cold. K’marr drew in a ragged breath, running a shaky hand through his hair. He wanted her awake and aware when he drove his cock home, not like this. He should have realized the combination of human alcohol and Spiri
stem
, topped off with him giving her two orgasms would render her unconscious at some point.

He cursed, knowing he would have to wait.

“I’m sorry it did not work out as planned, your highness, but I think you best go talk with your queen, and maybe re-introduce yourself.” Lance’s voice brought him out of his reverie.

He scowled at the seeker. “Why? Is there something wrong?” K’marr was being updated regularly by the guards about where she was, and what she was doing.

“She is clearly confused and frightened, learning she has married, and moving from jeweler to jeweler, trying to have your claiming bonds removed. On top of that, she downloaded and printed out information about Earth annulments, which would dissolve the marriage.”

Rage shot through his veins and he forcefully stood up. “No!” His bellow brought two guards bursting into his quarters with weapons drawn, searching for the threat to their King.

“Stand down,” he snapped, sweeping out from behind his desk. The guards bowed and retreated.

There was no human means by which she could remove his claiming bonds. They marked her as his. Any alien living on this blue rock of a planet would see the claiming bonds and know this, but human males, in their primitive infancy, were stupid and could still view her for the taking.

He had been a foolish king to leave her to her own devices.

“I lay the blame on myself, your highness. I believe she is not used to consuming so much human alcohol. It can affect memory, and I doubt she has little memory of your wedding, or anything much after that.”

Lance hung his head in shame.

She didn’t remember how I pleasured her, making her come, twice!?

He felt the growl rumble from his throat. He would remind her, over and over, this time. “V’star!”

In an instant, the head of his royal guard contingent ran through the door. “I decree the Queen is hereby forbidden to drink human alcohol. Make sure her shadow guards know this and prepare. I’m going down to Earth to collect my Queen.”

V’star bowed and left as swiftly as he entered.

Trying to do the right thing by waiting till her Earth affairs were finished wasted everyone’s time. She was running from him. Mentally, he snorted. Little did she know, she could run, but she could never hide.

He brushed past Lance. “Where is she, right now?”

“As it is now evening in Las Vegas, she’s at her stepsister’s bachelorette party.” Lance paused, shifting from foot to foot, clearly debating what to tell his King. A heavy sigh left his chest as he met K’marr’s gaze. “Forgive me, but she’s at a male revue show as a part of her stepsister's last rites before marriage.”

“What is a male revue show?” K’marr scowled. His gut clenched, and he instinctively knew he was not going to like the answer.

Lance opened his mouth to speak, but one of the shadow guards entered, interrupting what he was going to tell him.

“Your highness. It’s, ah, the Queen.”

The guard reddened slightly, also hesitating, his gaze dancing from Lance’s to the King's.

“Report now!” L'marr snapped, their reluctance making his anger rise and his fists clench.

“The Queen has gone into some show where there are naked males dancing for the females' pleasure.”

A red film of rage descended over his vision. He was going to kill them all.

“Your highness, please, try to stay calm and remember her current mental state.” Lance placed a hand on his shoulder. “She doesn’t remember, and she has no idea who, or what we are. Aliens on planet Earth are myth and speculation.”

“I will make her remember, and she will learn.” He shook off Lance’s hand. “She is my Queen; any obligation to her family is now over. She is mine and I will not let her linger on the planet any longer. You will take me to her, now. That is an order from your King.”

Lance bowed, leading the way out of his quarters, heading to the transport tubes.

No more running, my little soul bond. Time to learn who and what you are. Mine.

***

The screams of the over-excited women hurt Ashlyn’s ears. Strobe lights flashed and rock music pumped through speakers as oiled-up, gym-honed show ponies gyrated suggestively on stage to each thumping beat.

All damn afternoon she tried to get the bands removed. Seven different jewelers she chased up and down the strip, and each and every one wanted to buy the metal from her, claiming they never saw anything like it in their lives, but no matter how they tried, short of cutting off her hands, they weren’t getting anywhere.

Ash sat on the uncomfortable stool, her gaze on her giggling, groping stepsister and stepmother as they lapped up the attention of one of male strippers, who pushed his flimsily-covered dick into Lillian’s face.

Ash rolled her eyes, her mind in a far different place, not the least bit interested in these prancing show things. None of them were broad, or tall enough, or possessed the right timbre of voice. Memories of the man from last night sparked from the recesses of her brain—his deep, crystal blue eyes, his square cut jaw, and how he was far better looking than the men on the stage.

Her gasp was hidden by the too-loud music as more memories from last night started to un-fog. Details came streaming back into her brain.

She remembered the way his strong arms wrapped around her as he guided her into the casino chapel. She didn’t know who all the people were standing around, big and tall, but at the time, she didn’t care. She readily said ‘yes’ when prompted by the celebrant.

Her groom placed the golden bands around her wrists, his deep voice rumbling, telling her it was his homeland's custom to bind their brides to them with claiming bands. His kiss, so deep and passionate, it swept all thoughts from her mind.

After he carried her away, through the hotel and into the luxury room—
Oh God
, it came back with increasing clarity. He was so handsome, so damn sexy; the way he touched and caressed her body, sending sudden arousal coursing through her. She welcomed his mouth, hands and lips wherever she could get them, feeling like a horny koala in heat.

Oh, God
. Her cheeks heated when she remembered his mouth in her…most intimate place, bringing her to a screaming orgasm—twice! Everything afterwards was completely blank.

Thankfully, no one could see her stoplight red face, from the memories. She scowled into her cup of soda. For some reason, the bartender refused to serve her alcohol. Her mind continued to race. Why the fuss from the clerk at the reception desk? Why couldn’t she still shake the feeling of being watched? What was with these bracelets no one could remove? Why would a sexy Adonis want to marry, and have sex with boring, fat Ashlyn Sawyer? And why did the man vanish? The only answer must be he was more intoxicated than she was. The thought sent a spike into her heart.

Escape was the only answer. As soon after Lillian’s wedding as she could, she would be on the plane for home.

A hand clamped around her arm, yanking her forward. Startled, she fell into the arms of one of the male strippers.
Eeew
! Disgust made her shudder when she was forced to put her hand on his greasy arm to stop herself from face-planting into his oiled, no doubt waxed chest.

Crap, it was the Master of Ceremonies stripper on stage. “We have our volunteer!” came the loud boom of his voice through the speakers.

“Hey, wait, no!” Her protest fell on deaf ears while he dragged her towards the stage. She glanced back to see Lillian and Jillian exchange smug grins.
Oh, shit, I know that look.
Knowing those two, she was about to become the joke of the whole party.

The first stripper managed to get her up the step, and when he let go of her arm, she tried to bolt back down, only to be hemmed in by two more of the men.

“Please welcome Ashlyn, who’s been chosen to have a special, lap dance.”

Ooohs and screams met the MC stripper guy’s declaration.

How does he know my name?

Someone brought over a chair and pushed her into it. The guy held her down with a firm hand on her shoulder.

Humiliation made her cheeks hot, but she doubted anyone would notice or care. Ash knew there was no way out, and she would have to endure it to the end.

“Her sister tells us Ashlyn has trouble loosening up and having fun, but I’m sure we boys can help her with that. What do you say, ladies?”

More cheers and shouts of 'yeah’ met his words.

Shit, shit, shit!

The music suddenly stopped, and the lights came on as a group of men burst through the main entrance. Stunned staff and horny women were pushed out of the way by the half dozen extremely large men in black suits who cleared the way for a singular, tall and muscular man powering towards the stage.

Ash's eyes widened when she saw who it was. The man she married last night, the man who’d touched her, brought her pleasure, and then vanished. Her fuzzy brain left out the one detail she struggled to recall—his name. K, or Kmart or something like that?

K’marr, that’s it!
The one the bartender set her up with. She owed Lance a good kick in the shins.

Fierce anger twisted K’marr's face, and there was clear murder in his eyes as his gaze fixed on the group of near-naked men around her. She felt the blood drain from her face, and her head spun. Every instinct screamed this was not a man to be trifled with. At the same time, all her girly bits flared to life with the sheer masculine power and beauty of him. He was hotter than any of the prancing show ponies, jiggling their bits to screaming women.

The stripper, keeping her pinned to the chair, went flying backwards. K’marr mounted the stage and punched him square in the face. Women screamed, but this time not from excitement.

“No one touches my wife!”

The possessive jealousy in his bellow made her gape at him.

Yeah, take that, you bitch!
Whoa, where did that thought come from?

He stood glaring down at her; she stared back in utter shock. “You and I, my Queen, are going to have some words in private.” Before she knew what was happening, he yanked her up onto her feet, bent over, gripped her hips and hoisted her up onto his shoulder as if she weighed nothing more than a large, lump pillow.

“You are mine!”

She got a great view of his firm ass while he carried her down the stairs and through the room, past shocked onlookers, though some women were still giggling and cheering, obviously too drunk to realize it wasn’t part of the show.

His men prevented anyone from following, or trying to stop him as he carried her off. She managed to lift her head enough to see the scathing glares from her stepfamily.