Chapter 13 #3
I grip her panties and tear them down, revealing her pretty pink cheeks to my gaze. Her gasp is scandalized, but the second my palm lands on her ass again, she is dropped back into the memory of how it is to be treated like the naughty little pet she is.
“Ow!” she complains. “That hurts!”
“It’s supposed to. I’m trying to teach you some manners, young lady,” I say, dropping into the local drawl.
* * *
Mara
I haven’t been able to stay away from him. I’ve tried to hide my interest, because it’s embarrassing to have a crush on a man after years of being mostly disinterested in all the colony guys.
There is something different about this one.
Something I can’t explain to anyone because it sounds like madness.
I swear to god he’s not like the other men.
I see flashes of something else inside him from time to time.
Skin that seems more blue than tan. Texture that rises into hexagonal bumps like scales.
But then I blink and they’re gone again and I realize there’s no way I can tell anybody about what I think I’ve seen.
Now he’s spanking my ass hard, and in the immediacy of being pressed over his leg, feeling all my pride and decorum eking away with each and every new slap, I start to forget about all the pretending I’ve been doing.
“Ow! Let me go, you asshole! My father is going to kill you for this!”
He grips my hip and my hair at the same time and lowers his lips to my ear, speaking to me in a soft, but dominant growl. “You’re not going to tell him, are you?”
“No,” I agree weakly.
Pathetic. I am so pathetic.
“That’s right,” he says. He picks me up and carries me toward the river. I don’t register what is happening until I am plunged into the water with him.
“What the fuck!” I let out a scandalized squeal that ends in an excited laugh.
He laughs along with me. “You looked like you needed a dip,” he explains, holding me close. “I got you messy with my muddy hands, and we can’t have that, can we.”
“I guess not,” I say, clinging to him as the water rushes past the both of us, threatening to take me away. He plants his feet in the riverbed and keeps us steady against the current.
This is the first time I have ever been this close to a man.
I have never been held against a chest like this, or felt arms so powerful in quite this way.
I am still stuck between wanting to fight and tell him off, and wanting him to show me all the terrible things that I can see dancing deep in his eyes.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I say weakly.
“But you came all the way out here, alone,” he says. “You followed me, pet. You watched me from the trees. And then you let me know of your presence. What did you think would happen? Better question, what did you want to happen?”
One arm is wrapped around my waist as he asks these questions. The other is smoothing over my ass and hips and thighs, making rivulets of water run in fresh configurations around my sore butt.
“I don’t know,” I say, because I don’t want to say what I wanted.
I thought a lot about the way he touched me on the day we first met.
He was so bold. He touched me like he owned me.
I wondered if he was like that with all women, but as far as I can tell he hasn’t shown any interest in the others.
He’s also respected my father’s wishes and kept himself clean around me.
That has given me days of watching him, listening to him when he doesn’t know I’m listening.
Making conversation with my father over dinner and dropping in the occasional question while trying not to seem too interested.
My dad pretends along with me and answers the questions as if they’re just about anyone.
“I think you do know,” he says, stroking me in that most intimate of places. “I think you had a plan when you came out here. I think you knew where you belonged, and who you belonged to.”
I have the strangest, most tingly feeling deep inside me. When I look into this man’s eyes, I know that man is not the proper definition for him. He’s something more. He’s alien. That’s not that strange, really. There are lots of aliens in the universe. My dad has told me about a lot of them.
More than just alien, I have a feeling he and I are not complete strangers to one another. I think I believe in soulmates, the idea that there’s a person you’ve been with over and over again for many lifetimes.
His fingers trace underneath me, the tips finding the spread lips of my sex. My legs are wrapped around his waist for stability and that makes me vulnerable to this slow, plausibly deniable exploration.
“I can’t think when you do that,” I moan.
“Good,” he says, moving my hair to the side.
I feel his teeth graze along my neck, and then I hear him make a sound more like a purr than any human vocal noise.
There’s a sharp pinch as his teeth make sharper contact, and all of a sudden I am soft and pliable and wanting.
It sweeps me like the river sweeps through me.
It makes me want nothing more than him. I’d give up fucking oxygen right now if it meant I could have him inside me.
He lifts me up, carries me out of the river to a drier part of the bank, and lays me down there, stripping off my clothes and allowing the sun to heat my wet, naked body.
“It has been too long since I saw you,” he murmurs under his breath.
I don’t know what that is supposed to mean, and I find myself not inclined to interrogate the meaning all that deeply because he is stripping off his clothing too, revealing one of the most alluring male bodies I’ve ever had the privilege of…
oh, my god. He strips off his pants and I find myself staring at a thick monstrous cock already mostly erect.
“There is no way anybody can fit that inside them,” I gasp, half sitting up.
He makes a gentle shushing sound and kneels next to me, gently pressing me back down on the ground.
I feel a certain kind of divine erotic madness in all of this.
He shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing it.
He’s not supposed to touch a woman he isn’t courting, and I’m not supposed to let a man who isn’t my betrothed so much as touch me.
But all I want is for him to touch me. I want it so bad it feels like my blood is on fire from not having him.
“Do you remember anything?” He asks the question with a softness and a wistfulness that tugs at the core of me.
“Remember what?” I ask the question in the hopes of being able to say yes. Whatever it is, I really want to know.
He smiles at me, a little sadness in his gaze. “We will start over, pet,” he says.
“Pet?”
The word stirs something in me. It feels tender and kind, and deeply affectionate, but there’s something else, too. Something I can reach for, but not completely find.
“Don’t try to force it,” he says gently, laying down half by my side and half atop me. He’s propped up on his elbow, gently tracing my naked body with his fingertips, and I am trying to understand why my mind feels like it is trying to split itself in half.
“Don’t force what?”
“The memory,” he says. “It’s not a proper memory anyway. It’s not something that has ever happened to this version of you. But it is something that has always happened to you.”
I assume I am just too horny to understand, or maybe he is too horny to make sense. I don’t really care, because his fingers have traced down between my breasts, over my stomach, and are about to find the curling hair that guards the most sacred part of my body.
“You’re such a pretty girl, pet,” he drawls. “And such a good girl for me, whether you remember or not, you know how to submit to me.”
I blink as something flashes through me. He’s right. It’s not a memory, it’s more like a flash of data, a download that comes from absolutely nowhere and installs itself in my mind. A knowing, incomplete, but tangibly now located inside my skull.
“Freak?” The word falls from my lips.
He smiles broadly and his face changes. I see a flash of fang. A tinge of blue around his temples. The blue eyes burn gold for a moment. It’s not my imagination. It’s as real as the green leaves and the blue sky and the muddy riverbank.
I let out a shriek, which is cut off by his hand covering my mouth. That hand is no longer rough from work, but from scales.
“Don’t panic,” he growls softly, pinning me in place by sliding his thigh over my legs. I am not going anywhere. He has me trapped here on the edge of the river, far from civilization and the protection of my father.
“You remember a name we shared,” he says. “And that is good. In time, you might remember more, or not, but I can tell you this, my little pet. You belong to me, and I am about to show you why.”
He covers my body with his, keeping one hand in my hair to push my neck to the side and allow for another one of those sexually intoxicating bites. I was already drenched with need. I did not know I could get any wetter.
“Shhhh, pet,” he rumbles. “We might not have long before your father comes looking for you, and we don’t want him to find you having your pussy fucked out in public for all to see, do we?”
He parts my legs with his thigh and before I can make so much as an incoherent moan he is inside me, his cock spearing deep into my pussy.
I cry out as my virginity is taken in one rough snap of his hips.
“My gods, sorry, pet,” he breathes as he understands what he has done. “I forgot this is your first time, this time around. Does it hurt terribly?”
I shake my head. There is an ache and a sting, but his girth inside me feels better than the thin skin of my hymen felt like protecting me. He moves more slowly, languidly drawing out the taking of my virginity.
“I should have been more careful, I am sorry. I have hungered for you for so long,” he croons against my ear. “Your body had become so familiar to me, such a place of home, I neglected to remember you are a sweet little virgin again. Untouched, but for me.”