Chapter Seven #2
“No,” she blurted before she realized silence would’ve been the better answer. Aghast, she stared at him, her insides quivering with apprehension. He’d ask questions now, grill her about things she couldn’t discuss.
“Why then?”
She shook her head.
He stared back, his gaze slicing and dicing, probing.
Betrys didn’t flinch, managed not to show her internal panic, her fears and doubts. Her guilt. While she kept her expression impassive, the emotions swirled with the violence of a storm and fought hard for release.
At last, he nodded and stretched out his hand. “Come back to bed. You paid for a capture experience, and that’s what you’ll get.”
Despite her uncertainty, her treacherous legs took on a mind of their own and propelled her toward Leo.
“Take off your robe.”
“This isn’t a dream,” she whispered.
“You’ve had dreams?” His voice was sharp and demanded a response. “Sex dreams?”
“Yes.” She felt defiance march across her face, settle on her lips and lift her jaw.
“Wait, you said you’re a dream walker. We discussed it tonight. You’re from the planet Petros, and your race can communicate with others via dreams.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “We use it as an instrument to foretell the future. Not that it did us much good. Our planet imploded during a war with a neighboring planet. Most of our people died since the leaders of Matros were determined to take over Petros because of our mineral resources.”
“How did you escape?”
“Corrin, my husband, smuggled me on a freighter.” She sank onto the sleep-bed, her legs no longer strong enough to hold her upright. “He promised to join me as soon as he could, but I heard later he died that day in an explosion at the main square. That was three solar years ago.”
“I’m sorry. I know how it feels to lose people you love.” Leo reached for her arm and tugged her nearer. “Why do you keep wearing your white robe? It makes you stand out in the market.”
“I have no currency to buy clothes.” Besides, people—men—seemed to trust her more if she wore a robe. It made her appear unthreatening, the lack of threat emphasized if she wore her long hair in a braid and waived face enhancements.
“But Iseult must pay you well?”
“Yes.”
He frowned at her, then seemed to come to a decision. “Get under the covers where it’s warm.”
A new type of anxiety struck her then because she wanted to touch him, have him caress her in return. It had been so long since a male had touched her with love. So long.
“You don’t like me.”
“You don’t have to like someone to fuck them.”
His words struck with the force of a weapon, stealing her breath, stealing her will, and making her want to cry. Instead, she lifted her chin and forced herself to meet his gaze.
“Is that what you’re going to do? Fuck me?”
“Yes. Would you like to run? Scream a little before I get started?”
“No.” In their shared dreams, he’d felt something.
He hadn’t acted callously, and no matter what he said, she didn’t believe he’d injure her.
She’d seen him with his brothers, and while he acted reserved, she’d never believe him capable of inflicting pain on someone weaker. “Running would be pointless.”
“So you agree to let me shove my cock inside you?”
His words crystallized an emotion—the truth—and she inhaled sharply.
“I’m lonely,” she said bluntly. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t have feelings for me. It will be nice to have someone hold me.”
“Very well, Betrys Torin.” Leo spread his arms and waited, his expression expectant.
They stared at each other for a long moment, and she realized he expected her to move across the expanse of bed to join him. He wasn’t going to pounce. He wasn’t going to force her. He wasn’t giving her the opportunity to accuse him of rape.
After a brief hesitation, longing and loneliness, the desire to have something for herself, drove her to close the distance between them. She pressed against his chest, and his body heat seared into her green robe. His masculine scent, familiar yet new, filled each breath.
“I think we’ll lose the robe,” he said.
“All right.” Was that her? She sounded uncertain and shy yet she was a grown female with a child. “Yes,” she stated with more assurance.
Leo chuckled, the noise sudden, a little rusty, a little surprising. He helped her disrobe and tossed the garment on the floor. Then they were chest to chest, skin to skin.
Betrys sighed as her breasts flattened against his pectoral muscles. Sharing the dreamscape with Leo had been one thing, but this…this was something extra.
The room smelled of fragrant spices and flowers.
A touch of herbs emanated from Leo, and the scent of the sleep-bed coverings brought to mind solar shine and fine days.
Not a trace of the pungent market smoke.
Leo’s touch seared her skin, leaving a wake of tingles as his hand drifted down her spine to settle on her bottom.
His casual exploration of her breasts and hips made her bold, and she started an investigation of her own. She ran her fingers over his biceps and gloried in his swift intake when she pinched his nipple.
“The men on Petros don’t have nipples. I’ve been wanting to touch them,” she confessed.
He cocked his head, curiosity blooming for her to see. “Are there any other differences between Earth males and those from Petros?”
“Our men aren’t as big here.” She ran light fingers across his muscled chest. “The Petros race are not warriors, which is why our neighbors defeated us with little effort.”
“The Petros men are scrawny?”
“They are slight of frame,” Betrys corrected with a frown. “Not weak. We are—were—a nation of inventors, and the dreamscape aided us in our field of expertise.”
Ricci was already showing signs of following in the footsteps of his father in this respect. He pulled apart everything to see how it worked.
“What is the purpose of nipples on a male?”
Leo chuckled, his expression becoming more open. “They have no purpose. On some men, they’re an erogenous zone. On me, for example.” He grinned to display a set of sharp, white teeth. “I enjoy a woman touching me there.” He guided her fingers to one flat disc, his green eyes offering a silent dare.
She stared, then blinked at his laugh. Who was this playful man? Emboldened by the lurking humor, she began to explore, paying attention to detail—his sculpted muscles, strong legs, broad shoulders, beautiful face. At every part she touched, she watched and learned him from his responses.
A quick pinch, a drift of fingers, a firm press—he savored them all. She graduated to kisses and nibbles, and his breathing deepened. She pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips for better access.
“Ride me,” he said. “You want me. I can smell your need.”
Betrys stilled.
“Is that another difference between me and the men you used to know, Betrys? You only had sex in one position?”
The sound of her name on his lips did something to her, caused waves of longing for a future she could never have. She’d loved Corrin with all her heart, and they’d experienced a good marriage by Petros standards. Yet she was discovering cultural differences that made her marriage seem lacking.
The teasing, the smiles, the talking, and now Leo was asking—no, telling—her to take what she needed, to take charge of their lovemaking.
“Do you want me to tell you what to do? Or I could take over. Make you participate.” His silky voice held a distinct air of mockery.
“I know the mechanics.”
“So put them into practice, Betrys.”
Each time he said her name he gave it two defined syllables, and he delivered it in a derisive tone. Half of her wanted to run while the other part of her wanted to stand up to his challenge in a very unPetros-like way.
A capture fantasy, he’d suggested.
Fine. Her turn to taunt and tease and deliver what he thought impossible. No restraints. No, that would remind him too much of Iseult—the last thing either of them needed. A reminder of the enemy who hovered in the room.
Betrys took a deep breath, part of her noticing Leo’s avid gaze on her breasts as they rose and fell.
She centered her mind and locked away the garbage from her past. Then she built a mental shield to imprison her fears of the future, and once this barrier was complete, she turned her attention to Leo.
Such a pretty man, his exceptional looks highlighted whenever he smiled.
The curve of his mouth lightened the green of his eyes and invited her to share in an answering grin.
Sexy, sexy man.
And he was hers to play with for this stolen moment.
He blinked, angled his head a fraction. “You never smile.”
“Neither do you.”
“Touché. Are you going to do anything?”
“Yes—at my own pace.”
His smile widened, and his muscles rippled when he shifted to a more comfortable position. “I’ll settle back and wait then. Don’t take too long because I might doze off.”
Betrys pressed her lips together. Right.
She’d show him. She placed her hand on his chest and scooted back until she straddled his upper thighs.
His cock was long and hard and fascinating.
A tremor shook her hand as she reached to touch, and a sound of amusement came from him.
She ignored the rude male and started exploring.
His body temperature seemed much higher than her people, and his shaft burned with heat when she wrapped her fingers around his girth.
She moved her hand up and down, and a groan escaped him. She allowed herself to glance up, shoot him a smile of confidence when she noticed he clutched the bedcovers.
Feminine pique satisfied, she went back to appeasing her curiosity.
His skin was soft and as she teased the head, a bead of moisture appeared at his slit.
She wiped it away. Another drop of pre-cum appeared, and she bent to lap it up.
A muttered curse came from Leo, and on lifting her head, she met his gaze.
Green, green eyes full of heat, and was that desire?
Without breaking their connection, she closed her lips around his tip and explored with her tongue. She sucked and took more of him inside her mouth. His cock seemed to pulse and thicken and the beads of moisture appeared more often.
Her discoveries had an effect on her too.
Heat roared in swirls to settle in her quim.
Wetness pooled between her thighs and she hummed around his cock.
It had been so long, and this was so much better than the dreamscape.
This was real, with more of the scents and sounds and textures their shared dreams couldn’t duplicate.
She lifted her head and released him. Seconds later, she was guiding him inside her with none of the awkwardness she’d imagined.
His shaft stretched her to the point of pain, and she rose a fraction before impaling herself again.
Up and down, she moved. Up and down. Up and down.
Each slide became easier, felt even better.
She changed the angle of her rise and fall, seeking a fit to make her enjoyment bloom.
“Yes,” Leo said, his voice guttural and unlike his normal tones.
Her pulse spiked at his encouragement, and she increased her tempo.
The prickle of pleasure heightened. It started deep inside her when Leo’s cock hit the perfect spot during her downslide.
A delicious tickle of heat that expanded until she gasped aloud, the velvet tension growing and growing and growing.
Another push and the tantalizing slide up.
She slid a finger over her clit, massaging the swollen nub, and filled herself with Leo’s cock again.
The coil of energy in her lower abdomen expanded, and she rubbed a little harder, a little faster, the bolts of pleasure coalescing into one big explosion.
She sobbed out loud and wished the pleasurable sensations would go on forever since they were so, so good.
The sensations drifted away, leaving the sexy buzz of satisfaction. Her eyes popped open—funny she hadn’t even remembered closing them—and she sought Leo’s gaze.
“When is it my turn?” he asked.
Betrys wanted to grin at his polite tone, but instead she sniffed. “You think you can do better, then show me your moves.”
He moved so fast, she scarcely had time to blink before she found herself on her back, her legs splayed and Leo looming over her. “Is that a dare?”
“Um…yes?” Betrys had no idea where this flirty self was coming from. This wasn’t her, but having sex with Leo wasn’t normal for her either.
He gave her one of those grins that made her breath catch and placed his cock at her entrance.
He filled her with one thrust, and the friction of the hard slide awakened her desire.
Another thrust stirred her nerve endings to a salute, and at the warm, wet suction of his mouth around the tip of one breast, she groaned.
Arousal curled and spiraled low in her abdomen.
“You’ve got moves,” she whispered.
“I know, but you haven’t seen anything yet.” His grin stole her breath. The man was too handsome for his own good, even with the short hair.
She clutched his shoulders as he paid attention to her other breast, the pull of his mouth and the wander of his hands fueling her desire.
He thrust and withdrew, each stroke slow and purposeful.
Her breathing became ragged, the clawing tension driving her to distraction.
Leo trailed a line of kisses and nibbles down her neck.
When he reached the base of her throat and the fleshy part of her upper shoulder, he let out a raw and guttural groan.
His hips pistoned into her in increased speed, and his cock filled her to capacity.
He was slamming into her now, and an intense burst of heat seared her. The familiar low pressure gathered, and seconds later, she exploded with another climax.
Her pleasured moan and the tiny spasms of her quim around his shaft seemed to be the signal he was waiting for. He growled, and she felt the splash of warmth deep in her channel as he propelled into orgasm.
For long moments, they clasped each other, heartbeats racing and the faint sheen of sweat coating their skin.
Leo’s body became a heavy weight, and she squirmed in silent protest. He lifted off her and flopped onto his back.
At her attempt to move, to go to clean up, his arm shot out.
He grasped her arm and repositioned her against his side.
“There’s no need to rush off,” he murmured. “It makes me feel cheap if my partner in crime wants to run off straight away.”
“I wasn’t trying to run,” Betrys said, but she was lying, and she knew it. Their lovemaking had felt too close, too personal. Now she felt wrong-footed and unsure. An understatement. She was desperate to regroup because she had to think of some way of getting Iseult another man before the weekend.