Alpha Star: Big Sky Alien Mail Order Brides #1 (Intergalactic Dating Agency): Intergalactic Dating Agency (16 page)

She sniffed. “That was a problem for you?”

He grinned up at her. “Not so much. But they both wanted the weapons position as well. They ended up transferring to a larger ship. What was your best Earther sex?”

She stared down at him for a moment. Maybe it wasn’t smart to admit, but… “With you.”

His grin vanished, and his deep gaze sharpened.

Her pulse stuttered. “If that freaks you out, you can blame the brain ray making me say bad things.”

In another heartbeat, he rolled her, smoothly positioning her on the narrow bed under him. “I was going to say I’d have to do better, but now I must challenge myself. This must be how the Ofreggens felt.”

“Don’t get cocky.” She lifted her hips. “Or do, I guess.”

He slid one arm under her back and arched her up. When his mouth fastened on the peak of her breast, she gasped and grabbed his shoulders, holding him close. He circled a finger over her clit, teasing until she bucked into him, demanding more. His laugh was as dark and silky as his hair when she threaded her fingers into the shaggy locks.

He eased one finger inside her, then two. Then…

“I taste it,” she whispered. “The
singilt
.” The frosting sweet overtones were still there but so was something deeper, richer. And it seemed to run through her, sparkling in her veins.

“It won’t hurt you.” He kissed her and the sensation intensified. “The molecular alteration in my body makes
singilt
a mild stimulant and euphoric when it oxidizes.”

“You make your own aphrodisiac? No wonder the Ofreggens fought over you.”

“Even when all the rings manifest, there’s only enough for one: my mate.”

Maybe her brain was hazy from the healing and the drugging effect of his mouth and hands, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember why mating had seemed like such a primitive, objectionable idea.

He kissed her and the rasp of his pierced tongue over hers sent a cascade of pure sensation flooding through her. She moaned when he slicked his finger through her vulva and pressed his palm over the sensitive mound of her pubic bone. All the nerve endings there fired as if he had his hand on the nuclear button. But his was a missile she’d welcome.

She might not make aphrodisiacs from her body—although from his rough breathing he seemed turned on enough—but she had always been a hard worker. She reached down between their bodies to find his cock. Okay, he was hard without her. Harder than he’d seemed before…

“Uh, Sin?” Which came out more “uh, thu” since his tongue was still in her mouth. She gave him a little nip and then moaned again at the decadent flavor of the
singilt
. “What is this?”

Sin retreated with a groan of his own. “I believe in your language it’s my penis. Also erection. Also turgid manroot. Also—”

Oh jeez, had his translator gotten ahold of her romance novels? “I meant the ring around your dick.”

He stilled, every muscle in him tensing.

“Is that the fourth ring?” She peered down their nearly joined bodies.

What hadn’t been apparent in her overly lit room but was almost glaringly obvious now was the fact that his penis was pulsing with light. The
singilt
band around his shaft was wider than the ring on his finger and glowed a vivid gold. If the combo of the
singilt
in his tongue and on his hand was so intoxicating… Her pussy clenched at the thought of it inside her, deep and intimate.

“It wasn’t there before, was it?” She traced her fingertip around the band. Like the other rings, it was hard and smooth but clearly living tissue, not true metal. She circled his cock and squeezed lightly.

He hissed out a breath, and she froze. “Does it hurt?”

“How the aphrodisiac feels for you, is redoubled, no, quadrupled for me.”

Quadrupled, one for each ring. She whistled out a quiet sound. “How did you not notice?”

“Because being with you distracted me.”

She snapped her gaze to his face, wondering if he was flattering her. But his brilliant stare never wavered.

His focus was so intense, a flicker of unease made her tighten her knees around his hips. “Honey made it sound as if the
singilt
rings were dangerous.”

“He might’ve researched the basics, probably just asked Ivan about it, but neither of them understand metal-lord mating rings.”

“I want to understand.” She centered her hands over his chest. But how could she say she wanted to understand when she didn’t really know him, didn’t even know if he had a heart behind the smooth flesh under her palms.

“We’re not thinking too hard tonight, remember?” He dipped his head, but instead of kissing her, he rested his forehead against hers. Though she thought her vision was getting better, he was too close for her eyes to focus on anything above the curve of his lip where the
singilt
piercing through his tongue glimmered when he spoke.

There was something troubling about his evasion. But how could she call him on it when she was the one who’d nixed common sense? And the aphrodisiac of his touch, his presence, was overcoming any other impulse anyway. She could only hold on while he took her for a wild ride.

The feel of him, long and hard and smooth, stroking down her vulva, was almost more than she could bear. She shuddered and tried to capture him, breathing out his name.

His hot breath teased her ear. “This ship is built to survive entries hotter than any meteorite, so you can be as loud as you want here.”

“Is that a challenge?” She writhed against his flesh.

“No, because I’m delighted to lose to you.”

She whimpered when his big hands cupped her breasts, plumping the sensitive mounds and catching the swollen peaks between his fingers. He leaned down to lick her nipple, and his pierced tongue dragging over the
singilt
band on his finger raised golden sparks that corkscrewed through the air, igniting miniature fireworks across her skin.

“Oh god, Sin,” she moaned.

He raised his head, his blue eyes glinting savagely. “Not a god,” he corrected. “A Jaxian metal-lord.”

“High and mighty,” she gasped.

“All for you.” He waited, poised at the entrance to her wet, aching slit.

Her mind was whirling in the best way possible, awash in every sensation he aroused in her, her nerve endings alight with pleasure, excited and alive in a way she’d never experienced before.

“I never knew,” he rasped, as if he was reading her mind. “I never knew it could be like this.”

“Sin, I want to feel you,” she whispered. “All of you.”

He sank into her by infinitely slow degrees, not the hot crash of a meteorite but the drifting descent of earthly thistledown, delicate, ethereal, magical. Until the
singilt
ring around his cock was buried in the deepest apex of her core. He grasped her wrists in his powerful rebuilt hand and stretched her out below him like a primitive offering.

And then he kissed her.

The
singilt
contact points blazed with the brilliant light of the brightest stars in a constellation, a map she could trace in an infinity of patterns. A wild animal. A mythological hero. An astrological sign to guide her days. Or maybe it wasn’t anything so abstract, just a celestial beauty exploded into existence aeons before her birth that would last long past the end of her days.

And that was enough.

He was everything she’d ever wanted when it came to adventure…and everything she’d told herself she didn’t need in a relationship. But apparently she just hadn’t been looking hard—or far—enough.

The stars in her mind and the singilt in his body glowed, pulsing with each heartbeat and brighter with every stroke. The rhythm was primordial and timeless…and counting down to an inevitable explosive end.

She raised herself up to him, gripping the dense muscles of his biceps, holding fast as he rocketed them onward. She wanted it to last forever…

“Is this how you like it, Zoe Nazario?” He thrust hard and deep, the silky friction and unrelenting force of him almost agonizing.

“Yes,” she whimpered. Her body hurtled toward glory but she desperately clung to the moment.

“Show me,” he demanded and reached down between their bodies.

His thumb on her clit was all the ignition she needed. She screamed as the orgasm ripped through her like the most potent mix of liquid oxygen, nitrogen, and lust, propelling her off the bed and into his arms.

He held her aloft even as he pumped again and again, forcing her higher. Her inner muscles spasmed around him, as if they’d never let go, and he growled out her name. The fierce, two-toned note of longing and desire rippled through her, even more irresistible than the physical release and she jackknifed again in a second-stage burst of bliss.

He gasped and arched backward, hauling her with him as his cock pinned her to a sky somewhere far above them. With a hoarse, strangled shout, he came.

The dazzling golden burst made her come a third time, and she soared, blinded to everything except the ecstasy of his touch deep inside her and all around.

For while, Sin doubted they’d ever come down, but gravity—and cooling sweat—were inescapable.

Slowly, he peeled himself apart from Zoe. The
singilt
on his still distended erection was exquisitely sensitive, and he choked off a moan as he eased out of her sleek female flesh.

She sighed and trailed her fingertips down his chest and over his arm, tangling with the fingers of his ungloved hand. Every nerve tingled in delight at her caress, even the nerves in the hand that wasn’t his. His body surged with molten pleasure, and he collapsed beside her. The bed was too small to be far from her, even if he so chose…and to speak in truth, to himself at least, he wouldn’t have chosen any other location in all the universe.

“So,” she drawled. “Your fourth ring.” She splayed one hand at the base of his shaft, triggering another jolt of golden delight. “You said the
singilt
paths were carved into your body at your coming-of-age ceremony. Does that mean…”

“Parts of the ceremony are not pleasant.” He pulled her into the half circle of his arm. “But there’s a grim pride in not screaming too loud.”

Resting her head on his shoulder, she petted his yearning flesh from singilt band to base. “How loud is too loud?”

“You might’ve heard me from here if you were listening closely.”

“Well, I’m glad you made me scream.” Her gusting breath ruffled across his chest. “Honey said this was your fourth ring. How many are there?”

“Five.” His arm tightened around her shoulders. Why was he telling her this? Maybe because he wanted her to know, even if it didn’t matter. “There’s an old story that goes with the mating rings.”

“Tell me.” She closed her eyes and kissed the side of his neck then gave the
singilt
ring in his ear a little lick.

He shuddered at the feeling that coursed through him, as if she’d licked his whole body, a sensuous, impossible caress. “Metal-lords were never common among Jaxians. Many that absorb the toxic minerals of my homeworld die of it. But the ones who were able to process, convert, and release
singilt
and other precious alloys helped enrich our people and were so considered a treasure. Breeding more metal-lords became a planetary mission, but Jaxian metal-lords are only fertile with a biochemically perfect mate. And so perfect mates were sought far and wide. And the
singilt
rings, like a personal dating agency, were the key.”

He touched his lip. “The tongue ring appears first. Legend has it that it’s the first, instinctive, secret sign that the metal-lord has found his mate. Only he will know and the sign might fade if the connection isn’t strong enough. It’s said that with the
singilt
in his tongue, the metal-lord will always speak the name of his beloved with sweetness.”

“Oh, that is sweet,” she murmured. “The earring was second. I was so confused when I first saw it. I thought my eyes had finally lost it.”

He’d thought he’d lost it too. “The second ring is the first external sign. When it appears, the metal-lord will hear his beloved’s call wherever she is in the universe.”

Zoe hummed under her breath. “That’s asking an awful lot. Anyway, we have cell phones and you’ve got universal translators.”

He chuckled. His practical little Earther. “It’s just a story, remember?”

“I like this story. The third ring?”

“On the dominant hand, so that everything the metal-lord does, he does in service to his beloved.”

She took his hand and brought it up between her breasts. The slow, steady thud of her heartbeat soothed him. “When your hand was injured, that must’ve made it even worse.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I didn’t plan on finding my fated mate, so that didn’t matter. But losing my hand and then getting Gre-Gre’s offer of my own solar system made me realize I didn’t want to die a homeless merc.” And what he’d lost had brought him straight to Zoe…

“So now you’ve got a fourth ring around your cock.” She snickered, a slightly drunken sound, and he realized the combination of sleeplessness the night before plus healing in addition to the soporific power of the
singilt
aphrodisiac had nearly exhausted her. “What does that one mean?”

He squeezed her until she squeaked. “I think you can guess.”

“That you can only get it up for your perfect mate?” She snuggled her head against him. “How medieval of you.”

He huffed. “It’s not quite so dire. But over time, the
singilt
band there shapes itself to exactly fit its beloved.”

Her eyes fluttered open, her dark eyes deep as space and yet so close. “Seriously?”

“Very serious.”

“Wow.” She sighed. “That is so weird and cool.” Her eyes widened. “But…I’m not your perfect mate. I mean…the Intergalactic Dating Agency got it all wrong, right?”

“Right.” She wasn’t his perfect mate because she’d said she wasn’t. And yet his
singilt
… “It’s just a story.”

If he said it enough, maybe it’d be true.

Her stubby lashes fluttered down again, but he couldn’t quite translate her soft exhalation. A wistful sigh, or just the last of her energy slowing?