Desired By The Alien (5 page)

With her arms and legs pulled in close to her chest, she dropped her head down to hide her face against her knees and sobbed.

“Bai. Enough.”

She knew it was Que’s voice, but she didn’t look up.

Bai grumbled reluctantly, but the sounds of carnage ceased and she heard him rustle his feathers and click his claws together as he fidgeted restlessly.

Vivienne opened her eyes in alarm when she heard someone walking towards her, and when she saw Que reaching for her, she flailed her hands out to slap his arm away, and she huddled into as small of a ball as she could. Que recoiled in surprise.

Slowly, Bai stepped over and hunkered down in front of her, his legs folded under him like a massive, roosting bird. He trilled and crooned quietly, and prodded at Vivienne with the end of his nose. He nudged at her hands and nibbled at the cloth around her wrists, until he caught it with one tooth and tore it.

Hands free, Vivienne laid one against the crawler’s cheek, fingers idly running through the short, fuzzy facial feathers. She stared into the four, jewel-like gold eyes and brought her other hand up to stroke both sides of Bai’s face.

As if she was lulling herself into some sort of trance, her breathing evened out. Eventually, her hands still cupped around Bai’s face, she looked up at Que and informed him evenly, “I’m ready to go back to Mallimae.”

Que nodded mutely and offered her a hand up.

Chapter Six

There was at least one comforting thing about Fort Mallimae. Everyone there knew that if they touched Vivienne, Que would not be pleased, and they all seemed to hold Que in some sort of esteem. It was comforting, in a strange sort of way, knowing that she would only have to deal with one man hounding her.

Hours after they returned from the city—after Bai had been returned to the stable, Vivienne had been given new clothes, and Que and Vivienne had gone their separate ways—Vivienne’s skin still crawled.

She tried to simply keep to herself for the rest of the evening, but her mind kept returning to what had almost happened on that side street.

Eventually, before her own thoughts could drive her crazy, Vivienne stepped out of her room. She stood outside the door and waited and as soon as she saw someone coming down the hall, she all but accosted him, stepping in front of him and jabbing a finger at his face. It took her a moment to recognize him as the man who usually delivered things to her room.

“You’re going to show me where Que sleeps. It’s late, I’m tired, I’ve had an awful day, and if you argue with me, I will make you miserable as creatively as I can.”

Whatever sort of expression she had on her face, the young man actually looked nervous because of it. To his credit, he didn’t argue. He simply nodded once, turned, and started walking again.

Once she was standing outside of Que’s door, she hammered one fist against it until he opened it. He stared at her, looking marginally perplexed.

“This seems backwards,” he commented after a moment.

Hands on either side of the doorframe to keep it from sliding closed on her, Vivienne stated, “You let me go earlier. You let me run.”

“Yes,” Que confirmed slowly.

“I didn’t expect you to make it all the way to Crystallocke, though.”

“Why?” Vivienne asked. “Why did you let me go?”

“Does it actually matter?” Que asked, sounding faintly surly.

“
Yes
,” Vivienne answered emphatically.

“So just answer the question. Why did you let me go?”

Que huffed out an irritated sigh, and when he spoke, it sounded like the words were being reluctantly pulled out, one by one.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he admitted, his tone quiet and almost sulky.

Vivienne considered his answer carefully for a moment before she stepped into the room, finally letting the door slide closed behind her. The room was largely the same as hers, albeit with a larger bed and a few personal items scattered about.

She placed her hands on Que’s chest and shoved, walking him backwards towards the bed.

“You are going to make me forget about today,” she informed him, her tone brooking no argument.

“Because if you don’t, I’m going to keep thinking about it and I’m going to start screaming. No one here wants that to happen.”

Que didn’t argue. He grabbed her hips and slid his hands down, over her ass, to grab the backs of her thighs and pick her up, as if she weighed nothing at all.

Vivienne wrapped her legs around his waist and that time, she kissed him, her tongue tracing the seam of his lips until they parted.

They fell back onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, hands stroking over skin and hips rutting together. Vivienne sprawled out on her back, Que straddling her hips.

Vivienne began tugging at the buttons of Que’s pants as he began undoing the laces of her shirt. The buttons gave way and Vivienne shoved the pants down far enough for Que to simply kick them off. 

As he continued pulling at the laces of her shirt, she began untying his, hands working much more quickly than his, so that they finished at the same time. As Que leaned back to shrug his shirt off, Vivienne sat up and squirmed out of hers so she could toss it over the side of the bed.

Que popped the button of Vivienne’s pants and she lifted her hips to let him tug them down. Free of the pants, she pulled her sports bra off, freeing her breasts and lying back down flat on the bed.

Que stared at her, gaze locked on her chest, transfixed. It was as if he had never seen a pair of tits before, and then Vivienne realized that he
hadn’t
. None of the inari had. That was oddly exciting.

She gave him a few seconds to ogle them before she pointed out, “You’re allowed to touch them.”

He needed no more encouragement than that. He stroked his hands over her breasts and kneaded them firmly. He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, and when Vivienne moaned in encouragement he did it again, running his thumbs over her nipples in circles until they hardened into peaks.

He leaned down and dragged his tongue over one. He twirled the tip of his tongue around it, and he rolled the other nipple between thumb and forefinger.

From there, he trailed his way down her chest and abdomen with lips and tongue, nipping and kissing. He paused to dip his tongue into her navel and continued downwards, until he got to her pubic hair and leaned back again.

Vivienne gave him only a moment to inspect what he saw before she grabbed one of his wrists and pressed his hand to the lips of her vulva and labia.

“Fingers and tongue,” she told him, “and that’s it. Your cock’s not getting near it.”

Que rolled his eyes, but he didn’t argue, and simply continued to stroke the lips of her sex curiously. Each slow, light stroke sent a small jolt of pleasure through her body, like tiny electric shocks, and in a few minutes she was dripping wet and shifting against the mattress.

Her fingers curled against the bed and her hips lifted in sporadic, miniscule jerks. But it was too light, too teasing. It was driving her crazy, and it would never be enough to get her off.

“Press your finger between the lips,” she instructed him, and she hummed contently when he did, her eyes sliding half shut for a second.

“T-towards the top,” she continued. “There’s a—aah!”

Her voice broke off into a sharp gasp as he pressed two fingers to her clit and stroked it, and anything else she was going to say was replaced with, “Fuck, yes, there!”

Que grinned smugly, and had he been doing anything else, Vivienne would have been tempted to slap the smile right off of his face. But as it stood, she very much wanted him to keep going, and he was obnoxiously gorgeous when he smiled, smugly or otherwise.

While it was more satisfying than the previous external strokes, it was still too slow and too gentle for Vivienne’s liking, and she propped herself up on her elbows to glare at him.

“It’s not going to break,” she told him, trying to sound authoritative, but mostly she just sounded a little bit desperate.

“Hinting at something?” Que teased, as his fingers got slower and gentler.

Vivienne groaned in arousal, irritation, and impatience all at the same time and fell back down flat on the bed, her head falling back.

Que took advantage of it to lean up and press his lips to her neck, worrying at the dark skin with teeth and lips, sucking a bruise into the skin where her left shoulder joined her neck. The entire time, his fingers continued to delicately stroke her clit with feather-light touches.

Vivienne groaned again and lifted her hips, pressing her pelvis closer to his hand, until finally she shouted, “If you don’t
hurry up
, I’m going to kick you!”

“Is violence really necessary here?” Que scolded.

Despite that, though, he leaned down far enough to give the lips of her sex a curious lick, before he pressed his tongue to her clit and lapped at it.

Vivienne gasped, followed by a low moan and a gratified, “
Yes
.”

He licked and sucked her clit, his hands pinning her hips to the bed. She gasped and writhed beneath him, one hand fisting in the blanket and the other fisting in his hair as she tried to press his mouth more forcefully against her.

She came with a choked gasp of, “Oh,
yes
, fuck yes, just like that!” and Que continued to lap at her until her arched back returned to the bed.

She sprawled out bonelessly, muscles trembling with over stimulation.

Que looked up, his face wet from the tip of his nose down. He lifted one hand and scrubbed it over his face, and pressed his erection against her leg pointedly.

“You’re sure this isn’t going near there?” he asked.

“Near, maybe,” Vivienne replied, “but not in.”

She rolled onto her side and said, “Lie down behind me.”

Looking slightly dubious, Que obeyed. Vivienne shifted back until her back was pressed to his chest, and she reached back to curl one hand around his cock.

She smeared her thumb over the head, spreading the gathered pre-cum around. She lifted one leg enough to spread her thighs just enough to fit his cock between them, before she lowered her leg once more.

“There you go,” she said.

Que’s first thrust was slow, as if the entire concept was utterly foreign. But Vivienne’s thighs were slick with sweat and cum, and after just a couple thrusts, his cock glided easily between her thighs, his pelvis pressing to her ass with each thrust, each one coming faster and harder than the one before.

He came with a grunt and bitten off curse, and his fingers bit into her hips with enough force to bruise.

For a few moments they stayed just like that, pressed together tightly. Before long, though, Vivienne peeled herself out of his grip and sat up.

“Thank you,” she said eventually, as she gathered up her clothing and carelessly pulled it back on.

“For distracting me, and for listening this time.”

As she walked to the door, he gave her a look that she wasn’t sure how to translate. She wasn’t going to say it was kind—she wasn’t even sure if Que was capable of that—but it was somehow softer than it had been.

She pondered what that might mean as she headed back to her room.