Alien Revelation Page 14
He heard her cry out as his tongue circled her clit, but it was muffled by the beating of his own heart. He was mindless in his need to pleasure his female and prepare her for his cock.
Her hands landed on his head, pressing his face into her, and he knew that she was right there with him. He added a finger to her sheath, and was immensely relieved to find her not as tight as he’d feared. Brogan had never made love to a virgin before, but he knew enough to be careful. He pumped his finger, and her hips began to grind down on him. Two fingers, and she was still with him.
Three. She slowed down, but suckling on her clit got her right back where he wanted her.
“Brogan! Yes! Just like that,” she cried out, her body trembling. She was close, reaching for the pinnacle of something she wasn’t yet familiar with. After that night, Brogan was determined that she’d know what it felt like to come over and over again.
A moment later, she cried out, her body locking down onto his fingers, her legs clamped to either side of his head. He rode her gently through the spasms, and couldn’t help but feel masculine pride when he looked down at her, resplendent in her pleasure.
When she settled, he pulled back and was very pleased to find that her cream covered his hand. He reached down and undid the fasteners on his pants. His cock sprang free, harder than he’d ever been in his life. He wrapped his hand around himself and groaned. The mixture of his, and her, lubricant on his shaft… the feel and smell of them together…
Onalee sat up, suddenly concerned. “Are you alright?” she asked. “Did I hurt you?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “No, you didn’t hurt me. I’m just aching.”
She looked down at his hand, and her eyes went wide. “Oh. Can I… can I help with that?”
His eyes nearly crossed.
He stood up, toed off his shoes, and pushed off his pants. When he stood before her, naked as the day he was born, he’d never been so proud of his body. Onalee looked at him like he was the best thing she’d ever seen. She licked her lips, and precum leaked from the tip of his tapered head.
“How do I give you pleasure? Tell me what to do,” she told him.
“Just touch me,” he begged. “Wrap your hand around me and stroke.”
She didn’t hesitate. She reached out and encircled his shaft with both hands. His hips pushed forward, gliding his hard length between her palms. She got the idea, and moved her hands up and down from base to tip, lightly at first, then with more pressure.
Precum steadily leaked from him, and her eyes locked onto it. She swirled her thumb in his juices, then brought the digit to her own mouth. He groaned as she suckled and licked the tip of her thumb, her eyes closed in pleasure.
“I didn’t know you’d taste so good,” she told him.
What male didn’t love hearing that? He was about to tell her as much, but words caught in his throat as she bent forward and licked his engorged head.
“Fuck, Onalee!”
She looked up at him, her mouth only a couple of inches from his twitching shaft. “Does that feel good?”
“Unbelievably good.”
She smiled at him before diving back down, this time taking the tip into the warm heat of her mouth. He couldn’t look away; he was completely captivated by the sight and feel of her swirling her tongue around and moaning.
When she took him farther into her mouth, Brogan locked his muscles, refusing to arch his hips. He was determined to let her explore him at her own pace, but didn’t know how long he could last. She may be new at this, but she more than made up for her inexperience with eagerness.
Soon her hands were moving in concert to her lips and tongue, and Brogan knew he’d reached his limit. There was only so much a male could take. He abruptly pulled out from the heat of her mouth.
“You’ve got to stop!” he told her desperately.
She looked up at him with an expression of concern. “Am I doing it wrong?”
“Wrong?! Fuck no, that was the best I’ve ever had. But there’s somewhere else I’d like to be when I come.”
He punctuated his point by reaching down, slipping a finger through her cleft, and dipping the tip into her pussy. She gasped.
“But only if that’s alright with you,” he added.
She nodded.
He pulled off her dress, and she moved farther up the bed, settling on the pillows. She held out her arms to him, and he took a moment to marvel at the moment. The most beautiful female he’d ever known was offering herself to him… What did he ever do to deserve this?
He settled over her, careful to keep most of his weight on his elbows and knees, and took a moment to kiss her. Her hands roamed his back and pulled him down more firmly atop her, her legs cradling his hips.
Brogan could feel her wet core against his shaft, making it throb with want. He thrust through her folds, and she moaned into his mouth, her hips arching up to meet him. He could come just like this: from rubbing her core, and feeling her quake under him.
He pulled back a bit farther the next time, and the head of his cock slid into place. Onalee gasped, and he pulled back to look into her wide eyes.
“If you don’t want to go farther, just tell me. I’ll stop now if you want. There are plenty of ways for us to make love without me having to be inside you.”
Onalee smiled lovingly and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I want you,” she told him with a kiss. “I want all of you.”
Thank the universe! Brogan whooped in his mind.
He sank down onto her, kissed her lips, and rocked his hips. His movement was as gentle as he could make it, only allowing a small portion of himself into her at a time, so that she could grow accustomed to his size.
When he felt her tense with discomfort, he brought fingers to her clit and massaged the small nub. Soon she was arching her hips to drag more of him into herself, and his groin met her thighs.
Fully seated inside of her, he wanted to remain still, enjoy the moment, and let her relax, but Onalee needed something else. Her hips ground on him in small movements that drove him wild.
“Please, Brogan,” she pleaded.
“What do you need?”
“I… I’m not sure,” she replied honestly. “Is this it?”
Brogan chuckled and shook his head. “No, love, this isn’t it.”
He pulled back slightly and thrust back to the hilt. Her eyes widened and he did it again, careful to watch for any signs of discomfort. There were none.
The faster he pulled out then tunneled back in, the more she enjoyed it. She clutched his back and rolled her hips to meet him, urging him to give her more. Brogan was happy to oblige. He pounded into her until pressure built at the base of his spine and his balls drew up close to his body.
His orgasm was close, but he’d be damned if Onalee wasn’t going to come again before he took his pleasure.
He brought his fingers back to her clit and massaged it roughly. She cried out, and her inner walls locked onto his cock. He grunted with the effort to hold back his orgasm, but he didn’t have to wait long. Onalee yelled her release as her body locked onto him.
It was his undoing. Brogan’s voice joined hers as he emptied himself inside her pussy.
When his ears stopped ringing, and he was able to focus, Brogan realized that he was lying atop Onalee with his head on her shoulder. He jerked up, trying to get his weight off of her, but her arms encouraged him back down.
“I’m too heavy,” he argued.
“You’re not,” she replied sleepily.
He didn’t give her a chance to argue. He rolled them on the bed, until she was cradled in his arms, her head on his chest.
Several silent moments passed while they held each other and waited for their frenzied hearts to calm.
“I just want to stay like this, with you, forever,” Onalee told him sleepily. She stiffened when she realized what she’d just said.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She sat up a little to look him in the eye. “I don�
�t want you to think that I’m pressuring you, or latching onto you like a childhood crush.”
“Why would I think that?”
“Because you’re the first male I’ve ever been with. The first one I’ve ever even kissed.”
She doesn’t give herself enough credit, Brogan mused. What they shared certainly wasn’t an infatuation, or a childhood crush. He knew it in his heart.
“Onalee let me ask you something: how many males have you met in your adult life?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know… hundreds, maybe.”
“And how many of them did you have an instant connection with, like we had the first day we met?”
She answered him right away. “Two.”
That had his eyebrows raising.
“Two?” he asked in surprise.
A blush crept over her face, and she looked down at his chest. Her finger began drawing circles over his pectorals in an unconscious gesture of unease.
“Who was the other male?” Brogan asked. He didn’t want to, but he had to know. Had it been one of her brother’s friends—someone Forkan had hoped she’d develop feelings for? If so, he’d pummel the male, whoever he was.
“Conall,” she finally replied, still not meeting his eyes. “I have feelings for him.”
Relief washed over Brogan: relief on so many levels. He tucked her head back down on his chest and smoothed her hair.
“I don’t blame you there,” he told her honestly. “That Earther has one hell of a fine ass.”
“Brogan!” Onalee’s head jerked up, an expression of shock on her face. He gave her a wide smile.
“What? It’s true,” he insisted. “I’ve been admiring him from the first moment I met him. And just for the record, I admire much more than just his body.”
Her expression turned into one of confusion. “So… wait… you’re not upset?”
Brogan scoffed at the notion. “No, of course not. Conall is an honorable male. He’s smart, kind, loving, sexy… there’s a lot to admire. I have feelings for him too.”
She eased back down onto his chest and sighed. “He’s not going to like this.”
Brogan chucked. She was right. Conall would fight them both, but it was a fight worth having. “I’m confident that between the two of us, we can help him see reason.”
“I’m not so sure,” she admitted.
“I have complete faith in us,” Brogan told her with a kiss to the top of her head. “If not, we’ll kidnap him until he sees our point of view.”
She laughed at his joke, but in all honesty, Brogan wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.
CHAPTER 14
Conall spent the first morning onboard the Lurizians’ ship walking the empty halls, feeling as though he was the only one onboard. It wasn’t surprising, since events throughout the vessel had still been in full swing when he’d retired to his room for the night….
…His single-occupancy room, as the Lurizian woman had been quick to point out.
Maybe he should’ve found a bed partner last night—or perused the “menu” in his room. There was something to tempt everyone.
I don’t know what the hell I want anymore, he mused.
After his solo-wanderings, he spent the afternoon with Reus, Ashlyn, Karo, and Aevum, trying out the ship’s many entertainments. The ladies and their husbands stopped early to get cleaned up and changed for the evening’s festivities.
Conall figured that his worn denim and button-down shirt were good enough. Anyone taking the time to look at him would dismiss the outfit as the latest in Earther fashion. That wasn’t the case at all, but if Conall could get away with wearing whatever he wanted, he was going to be comfortable.
He spent the next hour wandering around the ship, and eventually found himself back in the atrium. It had become completely packed with people since he’d last been there.
This time he was on the third floor balcony, so he had a better view. In the center of the ground floor he saw Lukas, Deian, and Jayda, surrounded by people offering their congratulations, and trying to get a few minutes with the new ruling Queen and Kings. At their side were two young women, and four older adults, all of whom were Arathian. Presumably, these were Jayda’s sisters and parents.
The two girls were beautiful, and around the age of twenty. They both had long hair, but one of them had dyed hers a vibrant cascade of color. Black at her temples, transformed into dark blue, vibrant blue, and then a teal color at the tips of the strands. Conall saw her mother give her a sidelong glance, so he was sure that the family wasn’t pleased with her new look.
He hoped Oliver didn’t go through that rebellious teenage stage; although dying his hair would be a much better option than getting parts of his body tattooed or pierced. Hopefully behavior like that was still years away.
Content to watch the crowd for a moment, he leaned on the railing, sipped a drink that a serving robot brought him, and people-watched. Most were strangers, but one person stood out: Forkan was chatting among a group of young men.
As Conall watched, he downed a drink that was in his hand, then quickly grabbed another from a nearby waiter. Hopefully, Forkan had his own room somewhere in the ship where he could sleep off the hangover that Conall was sure he’d have. Where was his sister?
Onalee had told him that she was going to be at the party, but so far Conall hadn’t seen her. He kept looking, but with every minute that passed, he became more worried. Was she not coming? He felt disappointment at the thought. Had her brother forbidden it? Or did he not feel like this was an occasion that warranted an “accessory”?
Conall glowered at her brother, especially since what Onalee had confided to him was still fresh in his mind. She felt like an object he used to get ahead in life.
The bloody bastard! She was so much more than that.
Conall shook his head and forced his temper to recede. Where had that come from? It wouldn’t do any good to go punch Forkan in the face just because he hadn’t yet seen Onalee. Maybe he would punch him later if he found out that she’d been left planetside.
The thought brightened his mood.
He took another long drink from his glass, and over the rim he saw another familiar face—one that he’d secretly been looking for since he’d arrived yesterday.
Standing against a railing, on the opposite side of the atrium, was Brogan.
Conall froze, his body suddenly rooted into place. Brogan stared at him intently, as if he’d found something he wanted. Strangely, the look didn’t bother Conall like he thought it would.
Of their own accord, Conall’s eyes took in what Brogan was wearing. Tonight he was in more formal clothing. His pants were dark blue, and his top was gray with blue trim. Unusual on him, since Conall had only ever seen him in black uniforms and work shoes, with tools strapped to his belt.
Even though Brogan wore loafers instead of boots, Conall could guess that he had a few weapons stashed on his body. He wondered where they were. On his arms? His muscular legs? Criss crossing his back, stomach, or chest?
Conall had the urge to walk over to him, but didn’t know if it was appropriate. Brogan was there to work, not converse, even though his plain clothes would suggest otherwise.
He’d told Conall about his job as a Guard, and had spoken with fondness for the position. Conall didn’t want to distract him from his duty, but honestly, he’d missed having the male around.
Brogan had been so occupied with preparing for the coronation, that Conall hadn’t seen or heard from him in days. He hadn’t realized how badly he wanted to see him—until that moment. His friendly, good natured personality was like a burst of color in Conall’s otherwise gray world.
Abruptly, Brogan’s eyes left his to dart around the room as if he’d heard something. His gaze landed on the atrium floor, and a soft smile broke out over his face. Conall followed his line of sight, and found Onalee standing among a group of older women.
She was smiling politely, but didn’t seem engaged in the group. Cona
ll looked back to Brogan, who nodded his head in the female’s direction and winked, clearly telling Conall that he should go down to her. Conall smirked. Was his attraction that obvious? From what he could tell, Brogan liked the woman as well. Did he not mind that Conall liked her?
Conall shook his head at Brogan. He respected the male, and didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the friendship they were forming. Conall didn’t have many friends. He didn’t want to bugger this up with him hitting on Onalee.
Brogan scowled at him before speaking into the wristunit he wore under his clothes. Right away Conall’s comm beeped with an incoming message. He brought the device closer to his ear so that he could answer it over the crowd and music.
“Go to her,” Brogan told him.
“She’s busy with other people,” Conall replied into his comm. He watched Brogan scoff.
“Those women are either married to men on the High Council, or sit on the Council themselves. They’re probably talking politics, or some other boring dross. Go save her. I’d do it myself, but I’m on duty.”
Conall nearly asked what time his shift ended, but thought better of it.
“Go,” Brogan encouraged him once more before the comm cut off. Conall watch him blend into the crowd, which left him to make a decision.
Conall figured that there was no harm in saving her from uninteresting conversation; they were friends, after all. He saw her on a near-daily basis. What was the harm?
He downed the rest of his drink, grabbed another, and headed towards the nearest staircase.
Why was he so nervous? And why did this feel like he was somehow cheating on Brogan? The concept was absurd! They weren’t in a relationship.
I’m straight, Conall reminded himself. Although the words weren’t as fervent in his mind as they’d once been.
He hadn’t grown up with homosexuality being a common thing in his small town. If anyone had been gay, they’d hid it well. The world had changed, but not that much where he was from.
What about now? his mind chimed. You don’t live there anymore.
Bloody hell, why did this all have to be so confusing?