Hero (20 page)

"Of course, if you two would just quit scaring her to death..."

"Sorry, Micayla," Dragus said with an apologetic smile. "Me and Hartak, well, we just love Terrans, and you're real pretty too. We've been begging Kyra to see if she could get more Terran women to come here--"

"Some that like lizards!" Hartak said eagerly.

"But she won't do it."

"Why am I not surprised?" Trag muttered. "Listen, guys, why don't you two run along and guard the palace? I think she'll be okay now."

"You're sure you won't need us?" Dragus said helpfully. "We could stand guard while you--"

"Dragus," Trag said in a dangerous voice. "Get lost."

"What? Lost? In our own--oh, I get it."

"Then do it," Trag said firmly. " Now."

"No need to get all huffy about it, Slave Boy," Dragus said. "We're leaving."

"Call us if you need us!" Hartak said cheerfully.

Micayla bit her lip as the humor of her predicament suddenly struck her and her

body shook with suppressed mirth.

Trag held her tighter. "Hey, don't cry, Mick," he said soothingly. "The big, bad Darconians are gone now."

Silent giggles gave way to howls of laughter as Trag looked down at her with

surprise. "Oh, my God, that was funny! You--a former slave in this palace!--ordering those big guys around like a couple of pups!"

The sound--and feel--of Trag's laughter as he held her against his chest warmed

her to her toes. "Yeah. Times have changed." Sighing deeply, he said, "Now, where were we?"

"Um, I believe we were kissing each other."

"You didn't mind that, did you?" Trag asked cautiously.

"No," she said simply. "Not at all."

"Think you could bite me again?"

"You actually liked that?"
"My dear Mick," he said with fervor. "You have no idea."

"To tell the truth, I've wanted to do that for a while now," she said candidly, "but I didn't think you'd like it, so I've been trying not to."

His purring began again, making his voice deep and rough. "You can bite me

anytime you like, Mick."

"What about our pact?"

"What pact?"

"The no-sex pact."

"Oh, yeah. That pact," he said. "Stupid idea, wasn't it?"

"Regretted it almost immediately," she agreed. "Don't know why, but--"

"What do you say we go somewhere and discuss it?"

"Where did you have in mind?"

Not bothering to set her down, Trag started walking. "Someplace private, where we can talk and not be disturbed."

"Sounds wonderful," she admitted.

"You're sure about this?"

Sighing, she said, "I think I was sure the moment I laid eyes on you; I just didn't realize it. But talking to Leroy helped."

"Oh, and what pearls of wisdom did Leroy have to share with you?"

"He said that the way I felt toward men was normal for a Zetithian woman. I've never felt normal in my whole life! It made a big difference."

Trag nodded. "So that's what you were talking about! I wondered. I guess that makes two of us who didn't know what we were doing. I never knew being hissed at was a good thing until Cat told me."

"Think we'd have ever figured it out on our own?"

"No clue," he said. "But I guess that's what friends are for."

"We need to be sure and thank them."

"Later," Trag said. "How far do you want to go?"

She certainly hadn't wanted to stop until they'd been interrupted. God only knew

what the two guards would have seen if they'd happened upon them a few moments later.

"All the way, I suppose," she replied. "Or do you think we should wait?"

Trag grinned but shook his head. "That's not what I meant, but I'm glad to hear it anyway. No, what I meant was, do you want to stay here or go on to your quarters?"

"Oh," she said, glancing up at the open doorway they were approaching. "Is this your room?"

"Uh-huh," he replied. "I'm sharing it with Leroy."

"Well, at least it's not Rodan," she said thankfully. "Can we lock the door?"

"We can bar it if you like, but if I know Hartak and Dragus, I doubt we'll need to.

Hartak used to be Kyra's guard, remember?"

"Yes, but--"

"I'd bet money they'll both be back just as soon as this door closes and, trust me, Leroy won't get past them."

The thought of doing anything intimate while two huge lizards were listening

didn't appeal to Micayla in the slightest. "I don't think I can..."

"Kyra didn't either," Trag said. "You'll get used to it."

"Look, maybe we shouldn't jump into this," she began. "I really--"
Trag set her on her feet in one swift motion. "You can stay or you can go, Mick.

It's your choice. I'm not going to beg, coerce, or badger another woman ever again."

"I'm not Kyra," she reminded him. "I'm not in love with your brother or anyone else."

"And you aren't in love with me either."

"What do you mean?"

"This is just physical attraction," he said miserably. "It's got nothing to do with love."

Micayla closed her eyes and exhaled sharply. She was right back where she

started. The only difference was that now she knew what if felt like to want a man--a real live man who wasn't part of a fantasy.

"Go on and leave if you want," he said. "But either way, I've got to get out of these pants. My dick is killing me."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but once you're gone, I won't be able to smell you and it'll go away."

Spearing his fingers through his hair, he muttered, "Story of my whole fuckin' life."

"What do you mean, it'll go away?"

Trag laughed mirthlessly. "Didn't know that either, did you? Zetithian men can't get it up without the scent of a woman's desire. You have to smell right or it just won't work."

Glancing down at his groin, she said, "I guess that means I smell okay then?"

"Ty once told me that Kyra smelled even better than Zetithian women--"

"And--?"

His gaze met hers and held it for a long moment before he spoke. "He was wrong about that."

Micayla was having a hard time processing the meaning of it all. "So you're

saying it's all just chemistry? Receptors and pheromones that trigger emotional and physiological responses?"

Trag winced. "Sounds even worse when you put it that way, doesn't it?"

"Sorry," she said wearily. "I've never been much of a romantic, but I'm trying to understand. I've been... well, I don't know what I've been, but I'm so tired of not feeling anything and wondering why I don't. But I really felt something with you--and I liked it."

Studying his face, she realized that wasn't the only thing she liked. "I like you too," she went on. "Maybe I didn't at first, but I do now."

"I've had it in my head for so long that if I couldn't have Kyra, I didn't want anybody--and then when you hissed at me, it just made it that much easier not to like you, but I do. That sounds really stupid, doesn't it?"

"No it doesn't," Micayla replied, shaking her head. "I've spent most of my life trying to avoid men." She felt her eyes stinging with unwanted tears. "It wasn't so much that I didn't like them as it was that I didn't feel anything for them--and I wanted to, I really did!--and I tried, but I just couldn't do it! Then you--all I had to do was look at you and I felt more than I ever had before. Granted, it didn't seem like such a good thing at the time, but today they were all telling me how incredible you guys were, and then Kyra was talking like you were maybe not as good as the others, and I just couldn't sit there and let her do it. Maybe she didn't mean it that way, but it sure seemed like it."

"What about you, Mick?" he asked gently. "Do you think I'm not as good as the
others?"

"I have no way of knowing that for sure," she admitted. "But no, I don't--and I really did enjoy kissing you."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he seemed to relax slightly. "I may not have to kill Dragus after all," he said. "If he hadn't interrupted us, I might never have heard you say that."

Micayla smiled back at him. "So what do we do now?"

"Still your choice, Mick," he said, moving further into the room. "You do what you want."

"And what you want doesn't count?"

"Oh, it counts all right," he said. "And I think I made my wishes perfectly clear."

Micayla stood at the threshold of more than just a room where a man was waiting

for her answer. It was a turning point, and once she crossed over, there was no going back.

She looked at him as though seeing him for the first time. He was lean and

muscular with eyes that burned like a green flame and his hair hung in thick, shining spirals, just waiting for her fingers to delve into it. In her eyes, the only thing wrong with him was that he was still dressed. Her mouth watered at the thought of tasting him again and without another moment's hesitation, she entered the room and closed the door behind her.

Her back was toward him as she slid the bolt into place, but she knew precisely

when he began purring. "Do you have any idea what that does to me?" she asked, still facing the door.

"No," he purred. "Tell me."

"It makes me hungry," she replied. "Hungry for you." Licking her lips, she began to move toward him but hesitated.

"Do it again, Mick," he pleaded. "Bite me."

"I don't like the idea of hurting you," she whispered. "But I can't help myself."

"Then don't try," he urged. "I like it. It's... exciting."

She stared at the place where she'd bitten him before and saw that, though it

should have been open and bleeding, the wound had already healed and was nearly

invisible. "Wonder why--"

Groaning, he pulled her to him. "Come on, Mick," he growled. "Just do it. Bite me."

Licking him first, she tasted the salt of his sweat and was instantly lost, biting down hard, breaking the skin and then licking the wound.

"Mmm... That makes me want to fuck."

"Then do it."

"I will."

Micayla managed to keep from using her teeth to get him out of what little he had on, but even so, she ripped the fabric as she pushed him down on the bed. "I want to devour you," she growled. "All of you."

"Kiss me again," he said thickly. "I need to taste..."

I'm going mad, Micayla thought wildly . I can't stop... Her tongue slid into his

mouth and though her eyes were closed, shimmering lights seemed to dance in front of them. His flavor reached her on a deep, primal level--setting off instinctive behaviors she
didn't know she possessed--and she knew she could never get enough of it. Trailing wet kisses down his neck to his chest, she teased his nipples with the tip of her tongue and then suckled them.

Trag growled deep in his throat as his cock pulsed, sending rivers of viscous fluid pouring from the serrated edge of the head. He took her hand and placed it there. "Touch me."

It was thick and hot and slick and Micayla let out a long moan as she grasped his stiff cock and teased the coronal ruffle with her fingertips. Micayla had never seen an erect Zetithian penis before, but it didn't come as a shock. In fact, it seemed more normal to her than the phallus of human males--as though the shape was one that she recognized instinctively. Through the haze of her desire, she vaguely remembered that there was something special about that fluid, but it didn't matter. She would find out soon enough, and the discovery would be all the sweeter.

Trag gasped as Micayla tightened her fingers around his shaft and slid them to the base. Combined with the exquisite torture of her tongue on his nipple, it was almost too much for him to bear. "Oh, Mick, don't... you'll make me come too soon. I--I can't hold on much longer."

His eyes were blurry and unfocused as he flipped her over onto her back, the

inferno she lit inside blinding him to everything but the deep, fiery glow of her eyes. The pain in his cock was growing with each beat of his heart, but as he pushed aside her clothing, he discovered her soft, wet entrance, and once he slid inside, he found sweet relief. She was unbelievably wet and her succulent core held his cock in a firm hug as he penetrated her. Plunging in, he took her--nothing fancy, just slowly at first, then harder, faster, deeper. She was screaming his name--did she want him to stop or keep going? He didn't know, and driven mad by her scent, he didn't care. With all his strength, he drove into her, unable to hold back.

He could feel the effect his coronal fluid was having on her; the orgasmic

contractions strengthened her grip on him, and the tension in his balls tightened like a coiled spring with each thrust. Knowing he was about to snap, he blurted out: "Where do you want it?" Before she could reply, he went on, "I shouldn't... no, too late," he gasped.

"Too late..."

His voice trailed off as his semen flooded her and his coronal ruffle began its

sinuous movements, intensifying her pleasure as Micayla fell apart in his arms. Her eyes were wide open as he hung suspended above her and watched it happen; her glowing

pupils constricted to mere slits before dilating fully, completely round and totally obliterating the iris.

She was beautiful. Her whole face seemed to glow, taking on a softness he'd

never seen before. She'd always seemed so strong--her features often set in hard lines, but now it was as though she'd been sculpted in marble, flawless and serene. Long lashes rimmed her dark eyes, and her lips, full and red from both his kisses and his blood, still beckoned to him. He leaned down, tasting both her sweetness and the wild, intense flavor of her desire.

***

Terran men had prepared her for what it was like to be with Trag. She lay helplessly beneath him, staring up into his eyes, their fierce green fire now banked down to a soft
glow. Maybe she was abnormal when compared with other Zetithian women after all,

because she had no intention of letting this one episode be the last--or even a rarity.

Either Trag was exceptional or other women of her kind had been suffering from mass insanity--or were part of the most extensive cover-up in history. Perhaps the effect would wear off and she would feel differently, but at the moment, she had no intention of ever hesitating to say yes to him, let alone refusing him.