Stud, p.5
Stud, page 5
“Seems like a golden opportunity for you to have a little fun,” Jublansk said briskly. “I’d certainly never tell.”
“You’ve been giving this some thought.”
“I have,” she said with a nod. “And I think you’d have fun and be doing a good deed in the process. Plus, the kids would be adorable.”
Lucy couldn’t believe her ears. “So you’re saying I should call him?”
Jublansk waved her floury hands in protest. “I’m not saying anything of the kind, but if I were you and didn’t call him, I’d be kicking myself in the ass for the rest of my life.”
Since this was in complete accord with Lucy’s own thoughts on the subject, she started to nod, but shook her head instead. No. There should be no clues, no inkling, no hints. She didn’t want Jublansk to get into any trouble over this—perhaps even losing her job if her father was angry enough. The less she knew the better. “I’d be too chicken. He’s too much… man for me.”
Jublansk rolled her eyes. “That’s like saying the ocean is too big for this planet, or the sun isn’t the right size for the solar system.” She shook her head. “No, Lucy. He is what he is and you are what you are. Don’t sell yourself short.”
“Yeah, right,” Lucy grumbled. “Whatever that means.”
At long last, she was home for the night. Closing her bedroom door and locking it, she took a deep breath, shivering with anticipation, but couldn’t help bowing her head in sadness as she whispered a fervent prayer. If only she could have had Tarq for real—in broad daylight and with full knowledge of everyone—not clandestine meetings in a locked room after dark. She wanted her fertile period to come quickly so that he could move on and she could forget him—forget the way he made her feel, the things he made her want…
Quickly changing into her nightgown, she doused the light and opened the window. It might have made her feel better to know that Tarq was already waiting for her, but his prompt entry was such a welcome event that she never gave it a thought; she only felt intense relief at the sight of him.
He swept her up in his arms in a manner that spoke of his own impatience, but the tears in Lucy’s eyes kept her from seeing it. She only felt the heat of his body, the soft warmth of his kisses, and the security of his embrace. As he lay her on the bed, he whispered words she didn’t understand, which made her feel even more fulfilled, for she was free to imagine that he was telling her how he’d missed her, that he’d counted the seconds until they could be together again, and that the day had been every bit as interminable for him as it had been for her.
She should have known how anxious he was when he didn’t bother to remove her gown, nor did he disrobe completely—only exposing his sex enough to penetrate her with it—but all she felt was relief that they were finally together again. She did her best to keep from begging him to stay with her forever, but the words crashed through her mind over and over until she had to bite her tongue to keep from saying them aloud.
Even when her orgasms began, she ignored the feelings, wanting only to feel him inside her and to bask in the warm glow of his eyes. Was this how it felt to be in love, or was this merely lust? Never having experienced either of those emotions before, she could only speculate, but surely lust wouldn’t be so painful.
Mental pain, that is. There was no physical discomfort this time—what little she’d felt the night before was already forgotten—but the pain of anticipated loss, of knowing that she had only a short time to be with him overrode a great deal of the pleasure. She tried to put it out of her mind, but it wouldn’t stop, nor would it listen to her wishes, but kept right on tormenting her.
“Don’t leave me,” she gasped at last.
“It isn’t safe for me to stay,” he groaned. “Your father—”
“Can go hang for all I care,” she shot back at him. “He doesn’t own me. I know I’ve put up with it for a long time, but—” She broke off there. Tarq didn’t know her plans, and she reminded herself that it would be best if he never did. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m just… it’s been a long day, that’s all.”
“I know the feeling.”
His tone made her wonder how he’d spent the time, but when his thrusts altered subtly, her thoughts were once again riveted on the present. Don’t think, just feel, she told herself silently. Remember this moment forever.
The blessed moon was still full and bright, sending tiny sparks flickering over the soft spirals of his hair. The scent of his body, so seductive and compelling, swirled through her head while the sound of his breathing filled her ears and his strong shaft filled her core. She reached up and touched his face, thinking that surely he couldn’t be real. How could anything be so perfect and still be real? He had to be a dream.
“I missed you today.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
He smiled down at her, his sharp fangs gleaming in the moonlight. “I know that feeling too.”
Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. Was she the one he’d missed? It was too much to hope for, but whether he meant it or not didn’t matter. He was here now, making love to her like the dream lover he was. Perhaps it was best not to discuss it.
Tarq, however, seemed to think that further conversation was indicated. “Mmm… Lucy,” he purred as he rocked her slowly and gently. “You feel so good.”
Just the way he said her name made her shiver with delight, but what he was doing with his penis was even better. She could feel that arch pressing against… something—something wonderfully sensitive. Licking his lips, he reached beneath her to pull up her gown. “I was in too much of a hurry before,” he said. “Sorry about that.”
She didn’t reply immediately since her gown was covering her face, but in another second it was fluttering, whisper soft, to the floor. His shirt followed and then he eased out of his jeans after toeing off his sandals.
“That’s better.” His lips found her breast as his hair brushed lightly over her arms. “Wouldn’t want my Lucy to miss out on anything.”
The “my Lucy” sent her rocketing straight back to dreamland—a place where they were not only lovers but lifelong mates—and prompted her to consider his needs, desires, and preferences even more than her own. Gasping as he teased her nipple, she whispered, “Is there anything you want me to do for you? Something you like better than anything else?”
She thought he hesitated. “Lucy,” he murmured against her skin, “I can’t think of anything that wouldn’t be better because you were the one doing it. You can do whatever you wish. I promise to love every second of it.”
Recalling what Jublansk had said about Zetithians tasting good had set Lucy’s thoughts on a wicked path, but how did you ask a man if he would like to be tasted? Did you just blurt it out, or was there a more graceful way of putting it? “I-I want to… Jublansk said you would taste good, and I thought you might like—”
His purr was loud and rough. “I would like that very much.” Withdrawing slowly, he crawled up to kneel beside her shoulder with his muscular thighs spread wide, offering her his glistening cock.
She gave the glans a tentative lick, just as she would have done with an ice cream cone that needed to be whittled down in size. But as the clear fluid began to flow freely from the points of the ruffled corona, she lost all inhibitions and sucked it deeply into her mouth.
There was a sharp tang to it at first, but she decided that that part must have come from her, because after a few moments, the flavor settled into something warm, seductive, explosively orgasmic but at the same time oddly familiar. Letting go of him, she exclaimed, “You—you taste like chocolate—well, not exactly, but it’s the same sort of effect, only a lot stronger.”
“Good?” Still purring, he slid the blunt head across her cheek.
“Very good.” She was still fascinated by the control he had of it, the way he could move it without touching it at all.
Circling her lips with the glans, he added, “My snard tastes even better—or so I’ve been told.”
“Snard?”
“That’s the Zetithian word for semen.”
“Oh.” Somehow she hadn’t thought about tasting that part of him.
“It’s sweet and creamy—a Terran lady once said it tasted like whipped cream.”
Giggling, she traced a finger over his scrotum. “And what do these taste like? Nuts?”
Tarq let out a soft chuckle. “I believe they do.”
“Well, obviously I’m going to have to try all of you—just to form my own opinion, you understand.”
Tarq nodded solemnly, but his grin was infectious. Again, without having to use his hand, he pointed his cock up toward his chest, allowing better access to his balls. “Help yourself, Lucy. I’m all yours.”
His egg-shaped testicles were big and smooth beneath the rough-looking skin, and a light dusting of curly blond hair tickled her nose as Lucy leaned closer to lick him. With that first touch, something deep inside her pelvis curled into a knot and squeezed, sending moisture running down between her legs. She retained enough of her wits to note that he did taste sort of nutty, but even more amazing was the way his sac turned buttery soft beneath her tongue. The need to know what it would be like to hold his balls in her mouth overcame her and when she sucked one of them in, her whole body contracted, drawing her knees up to her chest. The feeling was indescribable, but the sound Tarq made—a groan mixed with a sigh and a purr—was like music to her ears. She was giving him pleasure, and it filled her with a sense of total fulfillment—even more so than the orgasms he elicited from her.
The joy of giving—something she’d seldom experienced—held her in thrall, and she reached up, filling her hands with his heavy cock. Glittering like a diamond in the moonlight and almost as hard, it quivered in her grasp as Tarq thrust his hips forward, begging for more. It might not have been something Lucy had ever considered doing before, but Tarq obviously liked it—a lot.
Lubrication might have been a problem with any other man, but Tarq was pouring it out faster than it could evaporate, and Lucy’s hands slid up and down his shaft in a smooth, effortless, erotic glide. Within moments, his breaths grew short while, unbelievably, his cock became even more engorged. She had just reached the apex of a stroke when Tarq sucked in a ragged breath as his head snapped back. He held it for a moment, then exhaled with a loud purr.
When the first drops of semen landed on her face, Lucy let go of his scrotum and pulled his cock down, aiming the head toward her waiting tongue.
The whipped cream analogy was close, but it didn’t adequately describe the sweetness, nor did it address the blissful warmth that settled in the small of her back before flowing outward to the periphery of her body. True, she’d never conceive a child in that manner, but a man who could elicit such feelings without even trying? It went beyond sex, beyond mere procreation, to something deeper, more powerful, more binding than anything she could imagine.
How had all of those other women ever been able to let him go? Did conception stop these feelings in their tracks? Once impregnated, were they able to forget what he could do to them?
Lucy certainly hoped so. Otherwise, she was in for the heartbreak of her life.
Chapter 5
Tarq still couldn’t figure out why Lucy was able to hold his thoughts even when she was nowhere around, and, never having had this problem before, it concerned him greatly. He’d always heard that women longed to be missed, but this was the first time he’d felt it. It was also the first time he’d come in the mouth of a lady he was trying to impregnate.
Not that he hadn’t done it many times in the brothel, but those encounters were purely for the lady’s pleasure, and there had been several who didn’t want to do anything else. Lucy, on the other hand, wanted to conceive. Granted, she probably hadn’t ovulated yet—Tarq chastised himself once again for forgetting to scan her first—but there was a purpose to his wanderings. He wasn’t doing it for entertainment.
Or for demonstrating his love. The idea crept into his thoughts like a stealthy predator bent on destroying any other feelings he might have had on the subject. Love? It couldn’t be that. He’d only met her the day before. How could he possibly feel love for her? Even so, he couldn’t put another label on the feeling. Not that he’d tried to avoid falling in love; it had simply never happened to him before.
Easing down onto the bed beside her, he began purring again. It was natural and had a calming effect on his mind, but he still wanted to know her thoughts. “So, do you like the way I taste?”
Lucy cleared her throat as though about to say something unpleasant. Tarq held his breath, waiting. “I—um…” She stopped there, shaking her head.
This was not going to be good. “It… doesn’t matter,” he said quickly. “Not everyone likes it—well, most ladies do, but it won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t.”
Lucy laughed softly. “That isn’t what I was going to say, Tarq. It’s just that I’ve never had to tell a man that he tastes like a hot fudge sundae—with nuts—before. It sounds sort of… silly.”
Tarq smiled. “And do you like hot fudge sundaes with nuts?”
“Oh, yeah,” she whispered. “But they make me gain weight, so I don’t ever eat them.”
“How sad—but you can eat as much of me as you like. I don’t think anyone has ever gotten fat on Zetithian snard—though I could be wrong about that.”
“Sundaes never made me feel like this, either,” she went on. “I feel sort of… floaty. Does that make sense? I felt it last night too.”
Tarq nodded. This much he understood. “It’s called laetralance in my language,” he said, and went on to quote the definition he’d learned as a child. “‘A blissful sense of peace and tranquility of the mind, body, and soul.’”
“I like that word,” she said. “But I like the feeling even more.”
“So do I.”
She rose up, propping herself on one elbow to study him curiously. “You feel it too?”
Tarq smiled. “Sometimes.”
“Do you feel it now?”
Thus far, Tarq had felt it every time he’d been in Lucy’s presence but rarely prior to his visit to Talus Five. “Yes, but I would still like to mate with you again. Usually I feel sated, but right now I only want more of you.”
Tarq knew it sounded like a line, but Lucy seemed puzzled more than annoyed. “You can, um, do it again—even when you feel laetralance? I wouldn’t have thought—”
“With a woman like you? Always.”
Her expression changed slightly. She seemed pleased that their interlude could continue, but there was something wistful about her smile. Then Tarq realized what he’d said. It made her sound like one of many, a “type” that could always be counted on to arouse him. He frowned, trying to think of a better way to put it. “You still want me, don’t you?”
Lucy nodded. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.”
“Well, you see, it takes the scent of a woman’s desire to arouse a Zetithian man. If I can smell your desire, I can keep going.”
Her eyes widened. “Right away?”
Tarq smiled sheepishly. “Try me.”
Reaching toward his groin, she curled her hand around his shaft and then ran her fingertips over the head. Letting out a startled gasp, she sat up and bent her head down so close to his cock he could feel her breath tickling his skin. “That ruffle on your dick… it’s—it’s moving.”
For a fleeting moment, he’d thought she was going down on him again, and Tarq had to swallow his disappointment before he spoke. “Don’t worry, it, um, does that. Women like the way it feels and it pushes the snard in the right direction. Sorry, I-I guess I should have warned you.”
Lucy chuckled merrily. “Obviously I should have read the directions first so I’d know what to expect. I mean, I haven’t even been with a human male before, but I’m pretty sure they don’t do that.”
“No, they don’t—actually, there are several things about us that are different.” Differences which were significant enough to send a genocidal maniac rampaging after them. “Zetithian women need lots of… encouragement.”
Lucy laughed even harder. “So, you’re saying that Terran girls are easy?”
Tarq had yet to encounter a human female that wasn’t, but he was pretty sure it would be unwise to admit it at this point. “I wouldn’t say that,” he replied cautiously, “but they are more enthusiastic.”
“And do you like enthusiasm in a woman?” She sounded almost coy, and her crooked little smile intrigued him, prompting him to grin back at her.
“I love enthusiasm.”
“Ah, then that explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“Why you want to go again. You can smell my enthusiasm.”
“Yes, but I also want to be sure you get your money’s worth.”
Her face fell and her voice went flat. “I thought you did this for free.”
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “Force of habit. I used to do it for money, but not anymore. What I meant was that I want you to…” Tarq stopped. He’d done okay up to now, but she was too smart for him and had backed him right into a corner. There was no way he could finish that sentence without sounding cocky or callous. There was nothing to do but admit it. “Look, Lucy, I’m not very smart. I say stupid things all the time. Please don’t hold it against me.”
“I won’t,” she said, “but I—oh, never mind. Just forget it.”
Tarq had no idea what it was he was supposed to forget, but he knew that fucking her into a laetralance stupor was probably the best way out of this predicament—just as it was with most awkward situations that involved women. When in doubt, just shut up and purr. Tarq couldn’t recall who had given him that piece of advice, but it had always served him well, and sex was the one thing he was good at.
He took her hand—the hand that still lingered on his penis—and kissed it, threading his fingers through hers. A lock of her hair hid her face from him, and, purring softly, he tucked it behind her ear. “Kiss me and tell me I’m forgiven.”
