ROMANCE: MY ALIEN KING: Scifi Alien Invasion Abduction Contemporary Romance (Paranormal Fantasy BBW Alien Contact Anthologies & Collections Book 1) (30 page)

“And what would that have done? It would only have provided fuel for you to continue teasing me.”

Dagmar had never felt lower than he did in that moment. Here was a stunningly gorgeous woman who wanted nothing more than for them to get along. He’d done nothing but everything in his power to make her hate him. 

“Aila, I have never been good at serious conversation. Even when we were children, whenever anything got serious I just stopped talking. Even you knew when I was approachable and when I wasn’t. I’m afraid that didn’t change much as I grew up.”

“No,” she smiled. “It hasn’t.”

“I may not have consciously wanted you to hate me, but I did everything in my power to ensure you did. You were right. Are right. I realize now that instead of showing thankfulness for your friendship, I took it for granted. I assumed you’d always be there. I find myself humbled that you’d stick by me despite the poor way I treated you.”

“I forgive you, Dagmar. I can’t say that we won’t argue in the future, but I’d sure appreciate being able to work with you instead of trying to figure out how to defend against you.”

“Good,” Dagmar smiled.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Aila squealed. Dagmar caught her easily by the waist, swinging her around as she tried to get past him.

“You can never best me physically, Aila,” he laughed. Nuzzling her neck, Dagmar reached up to cup her breasts. He whispered against her ear, “I find myself incredibly aroused by you. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been trying to keep my hands off of you?”

“Dagmar,” Aila breathed. “I don’t know how…”

Silencing her with his mouth, Dagmar smiled. “All you have to do is trust that I won’t hurt you. Can you do that?”

“I don’t know,” she breathed.

Chapter Three: Lessons

Aila looked into blue eyes she’d known nearly forever, eyes she been in love with just as long. But Dagmar had asked a good question. Could she trust him not to hurt her? Physically it was a no-brainer. Dagmar could scrap with the best of Pictland, but he’d never raise a hand to a woman. Emotionally, though, that was the real kicker. She had no doubt that, given the right circumstances, he’d not only hurt her emotionally, he’d likely crush her.

“I want to know what it is you’re offering Dagmar.” Aila smiled, resting her hand against his newly clean-shaven cheek. “I trust you to show me what I’m missing. I don’t know yet if I can trust you not to hurt me. I know you’d never do it intentionally, but I can’t say I believe you’d never do it at all.”

“Then let’s take tonight, just right now,” Dagmar offered. Aila grinned at his beautiful blue eyes that implored her to take this leap of faith. Rising on her toes she brought her mouth within a whisper of his and said, “Okay.”

If anyone had asked her what happened next, Aila would have said that fire, actual burn-your-flesh fire, came into Dagmar’s eyes and filled them with something she’d never seen in anyone else who had looked at her. Desire was something Aila had felt, certainly, but to see it written on Dagmar’s face made her shiver with anticipation. She could already feel need ripple over her skin like a blanket of electrical current. She’d have to calm down if she didn’t want to shock him and ruin the moment.

“Come here, Aila,” he said, taking her hand. Aila walked with him down the short trail and stepped out into the sunlight. He led her on, walking clear across the village to his tent.

“Dagmar,” Aila whispered.

“What?” he asked, a grin on his face. “Surely you’re not worried about what people will think?”

“I just… Yes.”

“Then come here,” he smiled. Before she could think of an argument, Dagmar kissed her and instantly her ability to think at all vanished. This is what she’d been missing, she was absolutely sure of it, this heat that filled her up so that nothing inside was cold, nor was she afraid it would be. His lips roamed over her jaw, small bites raising goosebumps on her skin, tightening her nipples so that her body ached with a need she’d ignored for the majority of her life.

Aila felt Dagmar’s hands slip under her tunic to find the warm flesh beneath it. Sighing, she lifted her arms and watched her beautiful white tunic land on a bearskin rug. “You’re thinking again,” he teased. “I’m afraid that will ruin the experience.”

“Is that so?” Aila grinned.

“Hm,” he mumbled. “It taints everything and makes if virtually impossible for me to do my job.”

“So now I’m a project?”

“No, but I’d really, really like to please you, and you thinking sort of makes that impossible.”

“Why?” Aila asked, truly curious.

“Because sex is about feelings, Aila. Yes, we should be smart about who we sleep with, but that doesn’t mean we have to analyze it from every possible angle. Sometimes with love, it’s good just to feel for a while. To let everything else fall away.”

“Then show me,” Aila said, stripping off the leggings that covered the lower half of her body. Standing naked in front of him, she fought not to shiver against the cold. She could have used her powers to make the air warm, comforting, but doing so would have changed the feeling of the moment. She found herself eager for the hard punch of reality. Then Dagmar was there, wrapping a huge blanket over her shoulders. His mouth pressed a short, breath-stealing kiss to hers, but even as she opened up to invite him deeper, his lips were trailing down her flesh. When they took her taut nipple between them she cried out. When his tongue slid warm and wet over her she whimpered with a need she was just now discovering in full.

“Lay down here, Aila,” Dagmar said, showing here where he wanted her. Aila did as he asked, her body trembling with need now. She no longer felt the cold. “Relax, sweetheart. You trust me, remember?”

Aila shook her head, he mind already blanked out by Dagmar’s closeness and her utter vulnerability. Aila watched, entranced, when Dagmar spread her legs open. She braced for the pain she’d heard other women talk about, but what happened next was anything but painful. Dagmar lowered his head and Aila felt the most wicked sensation against her womanhood. A cool wetness touched her, sending shock waves of needy delight through her center. His tongue touched her over and over again, flicking over the small nub and sliding into the hot folds of her aching pussy.

Arching toward him, Aila’s breath caught in her throat. No one had ever made her feel this deliciously wanted before. When she felt his fingers alternate with the cool slide of his tongue Aila crashed through some invisible barrier, crying out his name. “Please,” she begged, her hands shaking as they sank into the thick locks of hair that fell forward over his face.

“Just feel, Aila. Turn your mind off and feel the way your body builds for me. Give me everything you are, so that I can taste the flavor of your arousal.”

Aila didn’t know how to do what he asked, but her body answered when she couldn’t. Her hips bucked wildly against the constant attention he paid her. She writhed beneath him, all but begging to know him.

                                                                                    ***

Dagmar knew Aila. If nothing else, he knew her. He knew the way she thought, the intensity with which she did everything. Knowing she’d leave disappointed if this wasn’t equally as intense, Dagmar tortured himself to pleasure her. Her body was like a feast to a starving man in the middle of a famine. Her long legs were practically begging to wrap around his hips even while he used his tongue and lips to tease her arousal. His fingers sank into her instinctive heat, building her up easily until she crashed through that edgy peak. He lapped up her cream, tasting the heady flavor of her desire. Using his fingers still, Dagmar brought her own long, slender fingers to him, watching as her eyes snapped open. He grinned as the knowledge of him sank into her. Her eyes, the vibrant green he loved to see there, stared into his as he showed her how to pleasure him in return.

Using her hand under his, Dagmar stroked his hard cock. Back and forth he moved her hand. He throbbed against her hand and smiled when she moved willingly. He cupped her pretty breasts, teasing their warm, pink tips until they peaked hard for him. Dipping his head, Dagmar tasted them in turn, teasing Aila relentlessly until she was thrashing under him.

He settled between her legs, letting his tip feel the wetness of her swollen, vibrant pussy. Her wet lips begged for him. Leaning down he nuzzled her neck, pressing his lips to her ear in a tender move he’d never given a woman before. “Just breathe, Aila. One steady, deep breath in…” Dagmar pierced her then and waited for her exhale. “Again, darling.” Hearing her inhale, Dagmar pulled back and pressed in again, creating a rhythm with her breaths that gave Aila the control.

“Again,” he encouraged her. “Again.” Over and over again Dagmar spoke softly to her, building up her confidence until her body moved in sync with his. Her tight opening created such a sweet pressure against his throbbing cock that Dagmar fought for control as he entered her again. The relentless squeezing of her tight pussy pushed him beyond his own needs, rushing him on to hers.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Dagmar encouraged, gripping her hips tightly. Aila was so moist and ripe that Dagmar could barely contain the hunger that raced through him. “Hurry.” Digging his nails into her hips, Dagmar felt the hard ripples of Aila’s orgasm and as she arched toward him and he pulled her tight, burying himself completely inside her warm depths.

                                                                                    ***

Aila’s breaths came in long, steady draws as she took the weight of Dagmar’s body over hers. His head was just below her chin and his curly red hair tickled her nose. Reaching up she ran a hand through it, letting those thick curls run through her fingers. “You have the sexiest hair,” Aila whispered.

“Yeah?” Dagmar grinned. “There’s plenty about you that’s sexy, Aila, but your hair isn’t first on the list. You’re glowing.”

She laughed, one of the things she always equated to Dagmar. No one could make her laugh the way he could. She looked down at her skin, noting that she was in fact glowing. It wasn’t a blinding light like she’d been anticipating, instead it was the beautiful glow of love. “I still like your hair. I always have.”

“What else have you always liked about me?”

“I used to like your serious attitude, until it started causing me problems.” The way his chest rumbled against her when he laughed made her grin. “I like your eyes because I can always read them. They’re honest and I trust what I see in them.”

“You trusted me tonight,” he said, pushing up to look her in the eye.

“I had no choice if I wanted to have you.”

“What?”

“I’ve wanted you since I was eight years old Dagmar. The need, the knowledge has become considerably edgier as the years passed, especially when I watched you with other women, but it doesn’t change the wanting.”

“Bullshit,” Dagmar scoffed. “What eight year old knows what she wants when it comes to a man?”

“Neither of us were adults back then Dagmar, but I can tell you that even then, I knew I wanted you in my life. I might not have pictured it quite like this, but still.”

“Alright,” Dagmar said. “If we’re being honest, you were my only friend way back then. Even before your parents brought us here. When we left our homeland I never worried about leaving my age-mates behind, because you were with me. I always felt that if you were with me I could do anything.”

“Do you still feel that way?”

“I do,” Dagmar said, pressing a kiss to her mouth.

“Is it odd for a woman to want her lover again so quickly after having him?”

This made Dagmar laugh heartily. “No, Aila. It’s not odd. Stay with me a while and I’ll make sure you can’t walk straight come morning.”

                                                                                    ***

Dagmar did indeed ensure that Aila knew she’d been with him. He saw her to her tent that night before supper, kissing her full on the lips before she slipped into her quarters. As he returned to his own tent he saw Svenbreck heading toward him.

“Was that Aila I saw you walking with?”

“It was,” Dagmar said, straightening some when the man came closer.

“Are you two together?”

“We were,” Dagmar said. “I don’t know exactly how Aila’s feeling about everything so I can’t speak for her, but where I’m concerned, we’re together.”

“Don’t hurt her Dagmar,” Sven said, his dark eyes cold as steel. “She’s a beautiful and engaging woman. She deserves a man who understands that.”

“That she is,” Dagmar said, clearly undeterred by Svenbreck’s protectiveness. “Just so you know Sven, what’s between Aila and I is none of your business. I don’t meddle in your affairs, you can keep yourself out of mine.”

“Aila is my concern,” Svenbreck said. “I’d hate to think of anything happening to her that would make me angry.”

“How abou you worry about yourself and leave Aila to do the same? If you haven’t noticed, she’s quite capable of taking care of herself.”

“Regardless, Dagmar. I’m telling you to treat her right or you’ll answer to me.”

“I don’t answer to anyone Sven, especially you.”

Dagmar took his eyes of Svenbreck just long enough to be dealt a hefty punch to his jaw. Pain radiated up through his face to settle itself behind his eye. Enraged that Svenbreck would sucker punch him, Dagmar tackled the shorter man. He landed a fist across Sven’s face, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone against bone. Adrenaline pumped through his system, allowing him to ignore the pain that would surface in his hand later. He caught another fist to his face before he felt an electrical charge shoot through his arm, rendering it useless. The fact that Sven seemed to be suffering the same ailment meant only one thing.

“Aila,” he said, turning his eyes on her. He could tell his eye was swelling shut even as he took in the woman who’d just warmed his bed. She didn’t look like the docile creature he’d made love to only an hour before. Now power radiated from her as she stood there, hands on her hips.

“I’ll thank you two imbiciles to not fight over me. I’m not incapable of speaking for myself.”

“No one would-“ With a lifted hand Aila had Dagmar’s mouth muted. He could move his lips but no sound came out.

“Svenbreck,” Aila said, pointing at him. “What’s between Dagmar and I isn’t your concern. While I appreciate your friendship and chivalry, I am quite capable of taking care of myself.”

“I can see that,” the man said, a grin on his face.

“And don’t think that I can’t do the same to you.”

“Never, milady.”

When he was finally able to talk again, Dagmar pushed Aila inot her tent. “What the hell was that?” Seeing that she couldn’t contain her laughter, Dagmar decided it hadn’t truly hurt anyone. Scored his pride some, but that was to be expected where Aila was concerned. “Having a good time are you?”

“Absolutely,” she grinned. He couldn’t explain why her antics turned him on, but they did.

A while later, Dagmar headed for his own tent. He cleaned up, changed into fresh clothes, and headed for the dinner tent, noticing the way people talked in hushed whispers when he took his place next to Aila. After their dinner opener, Dagmar grabbed Aila’s hand and pulled her outside. The need she’d awakened in him ached to be named, recognized.