Authors: Iris Astres
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Space Opera
The room was sleek and comfortable. Generically modern, just
as Raj had told her it would be. Jane searched the cool surroundings for those
things he’d brought with him. She saw some woven fabrics, a few books, and not
much else. When she’d given up, she spotted a small earthen statue by his bed.
The curving female body had both palms extended in a posture that was generous,
seductive.
Jalima.
Jane pulled her T-shirt off and stepped out of her jeans.
When she was naked, she climbed into bed beside him. There was peace in being
next to him, despite fear rising in her throat.
Raj lay flat on his back, eyes staring blankly at the
ceiling. A flashback brought him to her as he was when they first met: the cuts
and bruises scattered over his prone body and the injured eye. There wasn’t a
mark on him now, but this was worse. This corpse-like stillness had her
terrified.
She stroked her hand down his bare chest. His skin felt
strangely cold and hard.
“Why haven’t you had sex?”
No answer. Not in words and not in anything. Even his body
was silent.
He’d flattened his hands to his chest. Jane lifted one away
and clasped it tightly, fingers laced with his. She drew the fist they made
between her legs and pressed her forehead to his shoulder, rocking herself back
and forth.
“Are you molesting me?” The whisper was extremely faint.
Jane raised her head
“That’s right,” she said, her breath already short from her
exertions. “You’d better brace yourself. It’s going to be long and grim.”
She felt a tiny shift in him and waited, her heart beating
with accelerated hope, but there was no more movement. No more sound. Jane
pressed her face back into his cool flesh and rubbed against their entwined
fingers. She closed her eyes and kept her pace until she’d worked herself into
a panting sweat. It was a little desperate, maybe even ugly, but it worked.
When the orgasm finally bloomed low in her belly, Jane was
ecstatic. The pleasure was as good as ever. She played with it.
Fanned it out like heat over his body.
Climax finally caught
her in a violent, thrilling grip that made her sob,
her
body hot and rippling against him. Jane panted, bit, and licked the seam
between his arm and body like a wild thing. When it was over she released his
hand and gathered him against her sweaty body.
“Jane.”
His voice made tears spill from her eyes onto his skin.
“Have you forgotten I’m an alien?”
He was better. That was all she knew.
Slightly
better.
She could hear it. “You’re an alien,” she agreed.
“A murderer.”
At that she paused. “Those men you killed would have killed
you.
Even Rick, although he never would have wanted to.
And under the right circumstances, I’d be a murderer as well.” She’d thought
this over every day they’d spent apart. “If you were in some kind of danger and
if I had the means. It’s horrible, but I would do it.”
“I didn’t find it horrible,” he said.
“No?”
His chin moved slightly side to side. “The monster that you
saw is who I am.”
Monster.
Alien
.
Just words.
They didn’t mean a thing to her. “All of them would have cheered to see you
tortured. They would have laughed when you were dead.”
“That isn’t why I killed them.”
“No.” Jane knew exactly why he’d done it.
“I told you. We don’t lose the things we love on Backus.”
“Then I’m Backusian too,” she said.
“Because
I’m not leaving this bed without you.”
Her breath had calmed, her body
stilled, and she was ready to begin again. She pulled him close and rocked
against him. She wormed a hand beneath the covers, heading for his cock.
He made no move to stop her. She wondered if he could.
A whooshing sound told her the door into the other room had
opened. A man appeared, holding a tray.
Startled, Jane covered her breasts. Raj shushed her, soothed
her with his unruffled expression.
“That’s Malcolm,” he said in a croaky whisper. “Malcolm,
this is Jane.”
The man must be another Bod. He was extremely handsome, but
other than that, he looked nothing like Raj. He was pale, and his piercing blue
eyes were smiling at her. “Welcome, Jane.” He glanced at Raj over her shoulder.
“I see you’re feeling better.”
“Somewhat,” Raj agreed.
Malcolm set the tray down, bowed, and left the room.
The brief exchange seemed to have exhausted Raj. He pointed
weakly toward what had been left. “That’s probably sweet tea from Backus. It’s
extremely good. Why don’t you have some?”
“Will you have some with me?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head.
“Raj.”
Jane rose on both arms and
looked down at him. “I want to say I’m sorry. Look at me.”
His eyes blinked slowly open, a faint smile on his lips.
“I’m sorry that you’ve suffered, that you’re ill. I know you
killed those men for me. I’m sorry that you had to see me sickened by it. It
wasn’t right that I was judging and rejecting in that way. That must have hurt
you. I regret it.”
He stared at her impassively. Jane lowered closer to him and
went on.
“The men in that garage were at my wedding. I saw them every
day for years. The opting out didn’t do anyone in the Outland much good in the
character department, but before Dancer, all of them were just a bunch of
harmless assholes.
Nice enough sometimes.
I’m not sure
anyone deserves such violent death. So that was hard to see.” She waited for
acknowledgement that didn’t come.
“And then,” said Jane, “I thought I knew you. I had a vision
of you.
Thoughts about you.
In my mind you were some
kind of prince. Or like a movie star.
Black and white with
silvery shimmers like a dream.
It frightened me on top of the sheer
horror of it. It frightened me to be so wrong.”
“How do you know you’re not wrong now?”
“Because I know.”
Jane sat up, her
eyes opening wide. “I’m sure. You made your first mistake with me, remember?
Well, this is the first time in my whole life I feel such perfect, blissful certainty.
You should feel honored.”
“I do,” he said.
“You do?”
He nodded slowly up at her.
Jane grabbed some of the sheet to wipe her eyes and lay down
next to him again. She kissed his cheek, his neck, his chest. Slowly she kissed
down his body, dragging the quilt over her head so he’d stay warm while she
nuzzled his cock.
He wasn’t hard but that was strangely sweet. The tears had
made her mouth feel hot. She used it like an incubator.
In
time, his cock expanded on her tongue, not hard but filling, gaining size and
length.
She settled on her side and rose onto one elbow, suckling
gently, very gently tugging, rubbing,
warming
him with
every part of her that she could use to touch some part of him. She closed her
eyes and sucked and rubbed and licked until time disappeared. When he was hard,
she shifted to her knees and straddled him.
Her pussy was still wet from climax, trembling slightly. She
slid his cock inside her body. He filled her, and she moaned at the sensation
and the sheer relief of it. His eyelids drooped, he didn’t move, but he was
with her and his presence was like light and air.
“Come here.” He grabbed her hips and tugged her forward with
surprising strength. She shifted awkwardly from knee to knee until she’d worked
her way up to his armpits. He parted her pussy with the fingers of one hand.
The other slid over her ass and urged her forward until Jane gave in and
lowered over him. He kissed her pussy like it was her mouth.
A
warm, romantic kiss, tongue slipping in and sliding up and down.
Lust gave
her chills. Arousal pulsed between her legs. The awkwardness of the position
disappeared. Jane repositioned one knee by his head and flattened both her
palms against the wall. She rocked against his mouth. It was so good. Raj was
moaning, humming, vibrating against her. Her pussy started tightening. Jane
made herself lift off his mouth. She pushed back quickly, centering herself
over his straining cock and sliding him inside.
The rest was frantic. Rocking, arching,
circling
her hips. Raj toyed with her. He pinched and stroked and pressed his fingers
into her until the tension snapped, and she was close again.
RAJ WAS ALIVE. His fate and his woman willed it so. And so
he hooked his arms around Jane’s waist and flipped her on her back. He moved
her left leg over his right shoulder and got to his knees. The sudden
movement made his head spin
. The rush of blood pricked
painfully beneath his skin. Had he ever made love to her with no physical
distress? Someday he would and that might actually surprise her. Inwardly he
smiled at the thought of fucking her with all his faculties at last. Until
then, weakness didn’t matter when desire was so great.
He used his thumb to stroke into the warm cleft of her
pussy. And she was almost there, moaning, rising,
rippling
like a wave. Her fire brought blood rushing back into his limbs. It was
unpleasant. The burning pain was almost nauseating. He didn’t care.
“Come inside me,” Jane said, staring up at him. “You
promised that you would.”
The wildly taboo request set Raj completely off his stride.
He stopped before his body hurtled forward into pleasure. Jane wriggled with
impatience underneath him. She tentatively pressed against his back. He bowed
his head into her neck and wondered once again how she had managed to make sex completely
new.
“Raj?”
“When you come, you’ll take me with you.” He thrust deeper,
ground against her,
brushed
his hand over her breast.
Jane ground back. She curved her body upward into his.
“Now.”
She let go of him and fell
back on the bed, orgasm flooding
her the
way his cum
flooded her pussy. He came with her.
In her.
Pleasure
and the deepest peace he’d ever known.
After which he couldn’t move. Not any part of him. Even his
lungs felt made of stone.
“What is it? Should I get someone?”
His tongue moved. His lips parted. “No.”
She hovered.
Flushed and anxious.
Breathtaking in her beauty.
She scooted out of bed. He heard
her pouring tea. She took a sip and handed it to him “It’s good.”
“Drink it,” he managed, pulling his dead weight a little
higher on the pillows.
Jane drank and watched him while his faculties returned. “So
did you quit your job?” she said, after a moment
Raj laughed, and that hurt too. He eased into a chuckle. “I
suppose I did.”
“Will we stay here?”
“We can, or we can live in Jackson City. Amin’s building an
interplanetary community there.
State-of-the-art security and
the height of modern living.
‘As safe as houses’ is the catch phrase he
keeps using.” Jane nodded. Not enthusiastic, but accepting. They would have to
see.
“I slept with Rick.”
Raj turned to her. “I know you did.”
“Dancer was there,” she said, although he hadn’t asked her
for an explanation. “I thought he’d kill me if he could. I needed to keep Rick
between us until things cooled off and I could get back to you. I convinced Rick
that I’d been miserable without him.
That I’d been desperate
to reconcile and too ashamed to ask.
Rick believes what he wants to
believe, so it was easy. I hadn’t counted on him wanting sex, but…”
“Believed,” Raj interrupted. “Your husband is dead now,
Jane. I killed him. You still wish that wasn’t true.”
“Yes.” Her mournful look was hard. But lies were worse.
“Was the sex difficult?”
“Difficult?” Apparently she hadn’t thought about it in those
terms. “More embarrassing and sad,” she said. “But, does it make you angry? Do
you feel betrayed?”
He rose a little higher in the bed, ignoring the increasing
ache.
“Am I angry that you chose to save your life?
Of course not.
You’re not a possession, Jane. Not territory.
And I certainly don’t regret your will to live. I’m only sorry that I wasn’t
there to help you.”
“You did help me,” Jane said. He hoped that it was true.
She set her cup down, settled back into his arms. “What
now?” she asked. “Do we just lie here, waiting for another tray of food?”
“That’s enough of an agenda for today, perhaps.”
“You’ll be completely better, right?”
“You’re leaving me no choice.”
“I have my interests to protect. You promised that you’d
teach me all the ways there are for people to have sex. Remember?”
“That’s true.” Raj touched the scanpad by his bed. The wall
at the far end of the room lit up. He tapped the square a few times and a
picture filled the screen.
It was a painting.
Illustrative.
Traditional.
Artistically crafted.
A man and woman in a lushly furnished room.
The woman’s body
spilled over the bed, her spread legs making her into a Y. Her lover, on his
knees, was curled around her, the two of them engaged in lovely, happy coitus.
The picture almost instantly began dissolving. Another image took its place.
This time a different man was standing in a sort of cubicle. He braced his feet
against the wall and leaned back, muscles straining as he thrust into the woman
curled around him. Successive images came and then dissolved.
Dozens of positions.
Standing, kneeling,
back to front and front to back.
“It’s all the same,” Jane said.