Hero (25 page)

"And you aren't in love with her anymore?"

"No, I don't think I am. Something happened today--maybe it was what she said about the Neriks that got to me--or something you said--but I--oh, hell, I don't know!" He gave his hair a quick yank. "Do you want to fuck some more or not?"
Micayla ignored this last bit, focusing instead on what was undoubtedly the real

reason for his distress. "Trag, just because you don't love Kyra anymore doesn't mean you have to love me."

"Yeah, well, after the fun and games we had under the table--which I think Jack saw, by the way--everyone will expect it."

"You don't have to live up to anyone's expectations but your own," Micayla said with conviction. "Believe me, if I've learned anything in this life, it's that! Men have always taken one look at me and assumed I was some sort of seductive sexpot, and I'm not! It's always been the farthest thing from my mind--at least it was until you came along. And like you said, this thing between us is just chemistry. My being able to walk away from you proved that."

"So, what does that make us? Fuck buddies?"

Micayla couldn't help but laugh. "Maybe."

"What if you get pregnant?"

Micayla shrugged. "I'd like to have a baby at some point, and since you're the only eligible Zetithian father around, it wouldn't exactly be the end of the world. And we don't have to fall in love and get married to do it either."

Trag seemed momentarily pleased to hear this but sobered quickly. "Uh, Mick, there's something you might not have noticed. It wouldn't be just a baby. Zetithians always have triplets."

"Really? It's not just what happens when we cross with humans?"

Trag shook his head. "Nope. That's one thing I do remember about Zetith. Kids were nearly always born in litters of three."

Micayla paused to consider this new information but decided she wouldn't be the

first, or the last, to give birth to triplets. "Hmm, well, that might take some getting used to, but I'm sure I could do it. And since there aren't many of us left anyway, I probably should--for the greater good and all. Besides, Trag, I like kids. I just never expected to have any of my own."

Trag eyed her expectantly. "So we just keep on being fuck buddies then?"

"You know, I've never really cared for that particular expression," Micayla said.

"But I suppose calling ourselves 'lovers' is out of the question."

"How about really good friends?"

"Works for me," she agreed. "I'm sure we'd have a good time together--and it would certainly help to keep Rodan from pestering me."

"He's not still doing that, is he?" Trag said fiercely. "He'd better quit, or I'll..."

"Or you'll what?" she said, laughing at Trag's reaction. "I've already threatened to bite his dick off if he shakes it at me again--and though it was Hartak I said that to, not Rodan, something tells me it'll get back to him eventually."

Trag grinned. "Hartak never could keep his mouth shut. He may not be a slut like Dragus, but he's definitely a talker."

"Odd trait in a guard, don't you think?"

"Yes, but now that I think about it, he was never guarding anything very

important; just us slaves--and then later on, he was Kyra's guard."

"You don't consider yourself important?"

Trag shook his head. "We were slaves, Mick. How important could we be? It's not like we were valuable to anyone but Scalia--though she did pay a bundle for us. We
wouldn't have been here at all if it wasn't for her."

"You're valuable to a lot of people, Trag," Micayla said soberly. "And not just because of how much someone had to pay for you. Haven't you noticed the way everyone around here cares about you? Don't ever forget that."

Trag looked at her with a sly grin. "Everyone, huh? Does that include you?"

"Of course it does!" she said, returning his smile. "We're buddies, remember?"

"I haven't forgotten," he said. "And I also haven't forgotten that you didn't answer my question."

"Sure," she said, knowing exactly which question he was referring to. "I think it's been long enough--or it will be shortly. It seemed to help being away from you for a while."

"Guess there's no chance we could spend a whole night together then," he said, looking rather glum, "is there?"

"I'm not sure Windura was serious about letting Leroy spend the night with her,"

Micayla said slowly. "And I'd hate to force that on her if she didn't really like the idea."

"She did make the offer though," Trag pointed out.

"Maybe," she conceded. "But I still don't like kicking anyone out of their room.

God knows that happened to me enough times when I was in college! My roommates

were always wanting me to leave them alone with their boyfriends. I don't suppose there's anyplace else we could go, is there?"

Trag rolled his eyes. "Mick, this is a fuckin' palace! There are probably hundreds of other rooms! If nothing else, we could spend the night in The Shrine. I used to sleep out on the portico all the time."

"Sounds okay to me," Micayla said. "But do we need to have permission to do that?"

"Hey," he said with a cocky grin. "I know the guards--and my brother is the famous rock star who lives here. I think it could be arranged."

"Hotshot," she retorted, grinning back at him. "You wouldn't be trying to impress me now, would you?"

"Maybe," he replied. "Is it working?"

"I'll let you know in the morning."

Trag tapped the comstone which hung from a chain around his neck. "Hartak?"

"Yes," a very sleepy-sounding Hartak replied a few moments later. "I'm here.

What do you want, Slave Boy?"

"Who's guarding The Shrine tonight?"

"That would be me," Hartak replied miserably. "Bretnil called in sick. I haven't pulled a night shift in ages. It's gonna be a very long night."

"Sorry about that," Trag said. "But if you don't mind, Micayla and I would like to spend the night on the portico--not under the dome, but out in the open."

If he'd sounded sleepy before, he was wide awake now. "Really?" Hartak said brightly. "That'd be great. I'd love some company! It's not nearly as much fun as the old days, you know. No slaves to talk to or anything. You just stand here all night long killing yourself trying to stay awake. It's boring as hell."

"Think you could get us something to sleep on?"

"It'll be ready when you get here," Hartak replied.

Trag held out his hand and Micayla took it without hesitation. They were nose to
nose when she stood up, those mesmerizing green cat's eyes locked onto hers. Why on

earth had she walked out on him? If nothing else, she could have been gazing into his eyes all evening. As it was, it was a few moments before she could even trust herself to speak.

"Um, that Hartak is a handy guy to know," she said when she finally recovered her voice. "Captures runaway women, helps you shack up for the night... Is there no limit to his talents?"

"Just don't ask him to join us for a threesome," Trag advised, his full, kissable lips curling into a devilish grin. "He might take you up on it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Micayla said. "I want you all to myself."

"Well, that did it," Trag growled. Yanking her into his arms, he wrapped his arms around the small of her back and pulled her right up against his hard cock.

"Careful, now," she cautioned. "I bite."

"I know," he said, pushing her back against the door jamb. His breath was coming in deep, raspy gulps. "I want to fuck you right now, Mick--really fuck you. Hard." He dropped his head and kissed her fiercely, his fingers spearing through her hair, pulling her closer, devouring her lips, nipping at her neck.

Micayla had been the recipient of similar kisses in the past--overzealous suitors had grabbed her before, but this was different. She wanted to bite back, but when his tongue invaded her mouth, her knees turned to jelly--and she loved it. He was pulling her hair, biting her on the neck, ripping away her clothes, and she loved that too.

Their tattered clothing littered the floor as Trag leaned in harder, pulling her legs up around his waist. He'd lost control the last time and it looked like he was losing it again. Straddling the door jamb, he rammed into her, seemingly oblivious to everything else.

Micayla was nearly blinded by the fiery glow from his eyes. Groaning, her head

fell forward and her fangs sank into the hard muscle at the base of his neck.

With a snarl, Trag pulled her down even harder on his stiff shaft, stretching her to the limit. Micayla saw stars and let out a guttural cry as an orgasm hit her.

"Feel good, Mick?" he growled.

"Yes!" she screamed.

"Want more?"

"Oh, yes, oh yes, please..."

In seconds he'd carried her from the doorway and sat her down on the table. "Just the right height," Trag commented as he pulled her feet up to his shoulders. Arching his back, he pushed in until their bones wouldn't allow any further penetration. "Now I can be creative."

Micayla's eyes widened as she felt him moving inside her. Their bodies were

locked together like a vise, but he was still moving, sweeping his cock inside her like a spoon scraping a bowl. "Oh, my God!" she cried in a voice she didn't even recognize as her own. "How are you doing that?"

"This is why you didn't want a human," he said fiercely. "This is why only a Zetithian will do--and why Grekkor wants us all dead--because we can fuck better than any other men in the galaxy." He paused there for a moment as his cock began pulsing so fast it was almost vibrating inside her. "No brag, just fact."

Micayla knew he wasn't bragging. She'd never felt anything comparable--and had
never heard similar descriptions from a girlfriend--of any species--until now. Jack and the others had said it was different with a Zetithian--that other men couldn't even begin to compare--and they, at least, had human males to use as a comparison, if no other species.

"Do you like that one, Mick?" he asked as she moaned out loud. "I learned that trick from Lynx. He was in a harem for ten years, so he had plenty of practice. He wasn't sure I could do it, but I can."

She wanted to return the favor, giving him the most pleasure she possibly could.

Gazing up into his fiery eyes, she said, "What do you like best, Trag? I want to give it to you." Micayla had never dreamed that she would ever say such a thing, but offered,

"Want me to suck you?"

"Oh, yeah, I love that," he purred. Pulling out, he spun her around until her head was hanging off the edge of the table. "Just as long as I can play with your pussy while I fuck your mouth."

Trag put his fingers where his cock had been, teasing her clitoris until she was

aflame with need. His cock rubbed against her cheek, the slick syrup permitting a frictionless glide as he pushed past her lips and entered her mouth.

He tasted like hot, sweet love and as he moved against her, the orgasmic effect of his coronal fluid began anew, driving her absolutely wild. The angle of entry was perfect, and she sucked him in deeply, savoring his cock as though it were the most delectable thing imaginable. His tantalizing balls hung just above her eyes, and when he pushed in deeper, they bounced against her nose. A month ago the thought of doing anything of that nature would have been repellent to her, but now, not only was she aroused by the sight, smell, and feel of him, he even tasted good.

"Mmm, that feels fabulous," he groaned, "but I want to fuck you some more."

Trag backed off and spun her around again on the highly polished surface, flipped her legs up, and then drilled his rod into her hot slit. "I can't decide which is better," he said, bracing his hands on the back of her knees.

"I guess we'll just have to keep going until you figure it out." As Micayla looked up at his face, something seemed to click into place. She had no idea what it meant, but suddenly the need to kiss him, to devour him, overwhelmed her and, in her hunger, she came up off the table, reaching for him.

The altered angle popped him out suddenly, sending the head of his penis gliding

down over her anus.

"Can't go back in now," he panted. "It'll cause an infection. My first hooker taught me that much--nearly ripped me a new one when I tried it."Trag glanced around wildly, his eyes searching the room. The little Darconian servant had done his job much too well.

"Damn! There's not even a napkin left!" he exclaimed. "A scrail cloth would solve the problem, but--"

Suddenly, any pain she might feel as a result didn't matter. Micayla wanted him

inside her, and she didn't care where. "Do my ass," she gasped. "Just be careful."

Trag grinned delightedly. "You can count on that, Mick," he said sincerely. "It's not the kind of thing I want you to ever be afraid of doing. Trust me, when I get done with you, you're gonna like it all."

Trag pushed down on her legs, effectively raising her butt off the table to meet

him as his hips thrust forward. His aim was perfect and he teased her gently, pushing, stretching, taking his time until with a groan, he slid inside.
Micayla's mouth flew open and her eyes felt like they were about to pop out of

their sockets. "Ohmygod," she whispered as she gazed up at him in awe. "I never dreamed..."

"It just takes a guy who knows what he's doing," Trag said bluntly, "and I've been with some very good teachers."

Trag moved slowly, carefully, and soon what little pain there was disappeared

completely. Leaning in hard, he began the sweeping rotations again, setting off even more fireworks than when he'd done it before. Just when Micayla was certain that there could be no greater pleasure, he found her sweet spot from a different angle and took up a back and forth drumming movement that lifted her to a higher level of ecstasy. Her entire body felt like one gigantic orgasm just waiting to happen, and for one fleeting moment she almost panicked, fearing that she would simply die when she reached her climax. She had almost gained the summit when Trag arrived a split second ahead of her, growling as he sent warm jets of snard pouring into her, igniting her sensitized flesh and pushing her over the edge into oblivion.