The Visitor: Alien Hunger Special Edition (9 page)

The microwave timer went off with a
ding neither of them paid a lot of attention to. “Saved by the
bell,” Garryk murmured, sucking a patch of skin along the side of
her neck. “I think I’d rather chew on you, though.”

The suggestive images that gave rise
to brought Chelsey to dew point and she lost interest in the food,
as well. “I doubt that would appease your hunger,” she pointed
out.

“
There’s hunger and then
there’s hunger,” he murmured huskily, but he pulled away. Leering
at her when she turned to face him, he grabbed her hand and rubbed
her palm along his erection. “Want to sit in my lap, little girl? I
know a game called sit and spin.”

Chelsey chuckled.
“Pervert!”

His eyes gleamed with
devilish amusement. “Good thing you can’t read my mind,” he
murmured. “You
would
think I was a pervert.”

“
Don’t tease me! I’m
hungry even if you aren’t.”

Chuckling he grabbed the plates he’d
found, scooped the steaks out and placed one on each and then
grabbed the potatoes from the microwave with his bare hands,
juggling them until he reached the plate. Shaking her head, Chelsey
went to the fridge to collect the bag of salad and a selection of
dressings when he lifted the plates, looked around for her table
and headed toward it. Setting them down on the table, she headed
back into the kitchen for ‘fighting’ utensils, napkins, butter,
sour cream and salt. He grabbed her around the waist when she got
back, pulling her down on his lap for a lingering kiss.

Her head swam. She tried to put her
arms around his neck and stuck the container of cold sour cream to
his neck. He jumped and released her. “I think you just poured that
down my back,” he said ruefully.

Embarrassed, Chelsey got off his lap,
dropped her load on the table and checked. “Just a little dribble,”
she murmured, licking it off on impulse.

A shudder ran through him. “If you
don’t quit, you’re going to be eating cold steak,” he
growled.

She was tempted, but she thought he
was probably hungry. She settled in the chair opposite him and
opened the bag of salad. It felt strange to share a meal with him,
but she discovered she liked it. It felt oddly comfortable
considering they were virtually strangers. She hardly thought the
teacher/student relationship they’d had years before counted and
she hadn’t seen him in years.

She wondered abruptly where he’d been
all that time and what he’d been doing. Performing, no doubt—He was
too good not to be a complete professional—possibly moving from
town to town? She didn’t believe he’d been in the city. She felt
certain that she would’ve run into him at some point if he had
been.

Despite the fact that she felt
comfortably relaxed on one level, though, he managed to keep her
pulse racing with the promises he made every time he flicked his
smoldering gaze over her. She certainly remembered that! If
possible, it was more potent now than it had been in the old days,
either because he’d perfected it over the years or because she now
knew it wasn’t just an empty promise.

“
TV? Or straight to bed?”
he murmured when he’d helped her clean up.

Chelsey felt her engines rev
immediately, despite the fact that she wasn’t sure if he was asking
to stay and join in her bed or not. She bit her lip. “I really need
to finish grading those papers.”

He nodded. “You always were a stickler
for work before play,” he said with a grin. “I’ll take
half.”

Chelsey glanced at him in
surprise.

“
What? You think I ain’t
got no education, woman?” he demanded, just enough tightness in his
voice that she realized he was defensive about it even though he’d
made a pretense of teasing.

She shook her head. “I was thinking
how boring you’ll find it.”

He relaxed fractionally. “Not nearly
as boring as diddling myself while you finish.”

Chelsey clapped a hand to her mouth
but uttered a snort of shocked amusement anyway. “You are so
bad!”

He waggled his brows at her. “Yeah,
but I’m really good when I’m really bad.”

She chuckled, moving to the couch
where she’d left the papers. “And so modest!”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well, if I don’t
toot my own horn, who’s gonna?”

“
I wouldn’t mind tooting
your horn,” Chelsey murmured, reddening when she flicked him a
smoldering glance and saw the shock on his face.

He laughed abruptly, swooping down on
her and snatching her into a tight embrace. “Baby, you can play any
tune on my horn you like,” he murmured, laughter threading his
voice.

“
Work first!” she reminded
him.

“
Yes, ma’am!”

They settled on opposite ends of the
couch, each with a stack of papers and a red pen. After watching
Garryk’s frown of concentration for a moment, Chelsey shrugged
inwardly. She could always glance back over them to be sure he’d
marked them right, but he’d been remarkably good in English, she
recalled—remarkable because the girls usually got the highest marks
and the boys the lowest and he’d been one of her best students
despite the fact that he seemed far more preoccupied with trying to
look up her skirt or down the neck of her blouse every time she
bent over than learning anything in print.

He pinched her toe, dragging her from
her concentration on the papers after a few minutes. When she
looked down, she discovered he’d extended one long leg and caught
her toes with his. Smiling, she returned her attention to the
papers, pretending to be oblivious to the toe wrestling. She
finally managed to get the upper hand, though, and pinch his
toe.

“
Ow! Woman! Don’t you see
I’m working here?”

“
You’re distracting me,”
Chelsey said a little testily.

“
Well, if you’d quit
staring at my cock you might be able to concentrate,” he retorted,
laughter threading his voice.

“
I wasn’t staring at …!”
She glanced at the part under discussion, though, when he brought
it to mind and discovered he’d dragged it out of his pants and was
waving it at her. She laughed. “You are
such
a pervert! Quit waving it at
me! I’m trying to focus here.”

“
I’m down to three papers.
I’m warming up.”

Mildly irritated when she’d counted
her own and discovered she still had ten left, she wrestled with
her conscience for a moment and finally surged upward, dropping the
papers and pen on the floor. Settling between his legs, she curled
her fingers around his cock and leaned down to suck the head and
swirl her tongue around the ridge below it. “What are you doing?”
he asked a little breathlessly, threading his fingers through her
hair as he cupped the back of her skull.

“
Tooting your horn,” she
said when she released it. “Let’s see if I can play Dixie on this
….”

The heat that had been simmering
inside her from his nearly constant teasing and banter caught flame
as she worked his cock in and out of her mouth, stroking it with
her hands to stimulate everything she couldn’t get into her mouth.
The catches in his breath, the faint grunts he didn’t even seem
aware of, the lift of his hips as if he couldn’t hold still
thrilled her, adding to the building pleasure inside her and the
heat.

He allowed her to carry him almost to
the point of coming and then abruptly grabbed her beneath her arms,
hauling her up his length. She lifted her head to stare at him
dizzily, accusingly, for depriving her of the satisfaction of
bringing him off with her mouth. He released her, spearing his
fingers in her hair as she collapsed against his chest, dragging
her face close enough to his to fasten his mouth hungrily over
hers. He sucked at her lips, thrust his tongue into her mouth and
raked it restlessly along hers and then sucked at her tongue a
little frantically when she lifted it to twine it with
his.

Reaching down, he grabbed the hem of
her shirt and pulled it up and over her head, breaking from her
lips only long enough to rid her of it completely. Discovering his
own shirt was still between them, he lifted up and broke the kiss
long enough to drag it off and then coiled his arms around her to
bring her tightly against his chest, nuzzling his face against her
neck and exploring it with his lips. He plucked at her earlobe when
he discovered it and then sucked it, strumming his hands along her
back restlessly, kneading the flesh and then pressing her closer to
feel the brush of her nipples against his bare chest as she moved
feverishly within his arms.

He made his way to her buttocks after
a few moments, cupping them and pressing her tightly against his
erection. Releasing her after a moment, he tried to shove his hands
down inside her pants. When he couldn’t, he transferred his
attention to the front snap and zipper, tugging at them until he’d
loosened her jeans. He shoved one hand down the front and one down
the back, trying to cup a buttock and explore her cleft at the same
time. Realizing he didn’t have much maneuvering room, he pulled his
hands out again, hooked his thumbs on the waist of her jeans and
tried to peel them down her hips.

He was only moderately successful.
Clearly on a mission now, he pushed her up to her knees, sat up and
carried her down on her back, and then got on his knees, grabbed
her jeans and hauled them and her panties off, dragging her halfway
down the couch in the process. Pitching the jeans and panties
aside, he caught her waist, shoved her back up the couch and
sprawled on top of her, covering the tip of one breast almost in
the same motion.

Chelsey arched against him as if the
suction of his mouth had pulled her into a bow, squeezing her eyes
tightly as fire poured through her and created a lava pool in her
belly. He teased and suckled the nipple he’d captured until she was
grinding her teeth and then released it abruptly, nuzzling her
breasts in search of the other. She tangled her fingers in his hair
as he found it, latching onto it with such enthusiasm she thought
for a moment she would pass out.

“
Garryk!” she gasped, torn
between the urge to pry him lose and an equal reluctance for him to
stop.

Garryk jerked his head upward in
response to the distress in her voice. Unfortunately, he didn’t let
go of her nipple quite as quickly. Electricity shot through her
when he stretched it and let go abruptly. After staring at her face
blankly for a moment, he surged upward to cover her mouth, shoving
his hand between them to wrestle with his own jeans. The teeth of
the zipper snagged his boxers on the way down and refused to budge.
After wrestling with it a moment, he grabbed his cock and tried to
pry it out, hissing into her mouth as he bent his painfully swollen
member nearly in half.

Abandoning that option instantly, he
broke the kiss, burrowed his face against the arm of the couch for
leverage and lifted off of her enough to grab his jeans with both
hands. A piece of the zipper flew off as they yielded to his force.
Shoving them down his hips, he grabbed his cock again and stabbed
blindly at her cleft several times until he finally rang the hole
he’d been searching frantically for.

She grunted, bowing up and shifting
away from him as he thrust. “Wrong hole!” she gasped.

“
Sorry!” Garryk muttered,
dragging his cock upward a fraction and heaving again. To his
relief, he felt her flesh close around his cock in greeting.
Curling one arm around her shoulders to hold her in place, he
worked feverishly against the yielding surfaces he had to deal
with—the couch beneath his knees and her body—climbing inside her
by tortuous degrees until he’d burrowed as far as he could go. He
didn’t want to stop then. Her flesh had clamped around the entire
length of his cock from root to tip, making it throb so agonizingly
that it took his mind a few moments to catch up to the fact that he
couldn’t drive any deeper.

He stopped, panting for
breath, struggling with the feverish urge to pump when he knew that
was all it would take to blow his load and end the party. He
squeezed his eyes tightly, trying to divert his mind to something
else. All he could think about, though, was the urge he was
fighting and the fact that it felt so good he wanted to stay
perfectly still and enjoy it as long as he could stand it without
having a heart attack. “
Gezis
,
mabay
!” he gasped.
“
Diz feedle jizit
!”

Bad move! As soon as he’d voiced his
pleasure it ripped his efforts for control right out of his hands.
His hips jerked as his belly spasmed almost painfully with the war
between his mind for control and his body’s urges. Realizing he’d
lost the battle, he began to pump into her frantically, trying to
push her over the top before he ran out of steam. Luckily, he’d
primed her thoroughly. She bucked against him after a few feverish
strokes and then groaned as the muscles along her channel began
clenching and relaxing around him.

He felt like he was being gutted. He’d
pumped everything he had into her earlier. His body strained harder
to eject the little semen he’d managed to accumulate since. He was
so wrung out with the effort by the time it finally stopped, he
couldn’t move, could barely breathe. It occurred to him that he was
probably crushing her with his weight, but he couldn’t seem to
gather enough strength even to roll off for several minutes.
Finally, he managed to heave himself upward enough to roll between
her and the back of the couch. He nearly shoved her off the couch
in the process. Fortunately, he still had an arm around her.
Dragging her back, he dropped his other arm around her to anchor
her, threw one leg across her hips for added measure, and then gave
up the effort to prevent himself from sliding into a coma of
satisfaction.