Drayke Read online

  “Think I could take a shower, Drayke?” I hold up my right arm with its thin bandage.

  “Sure. The plas-film is water-resistant. We just have to take off the gauze.”

  As I take my shower, I wonder what I’m going to do next. That “allowing” speech was a doozy, but now I’m alone in this gorgeous alpha male’s bedroom, and I have no idea what I really want to do with him.

  Do I want to turn over and go to sleep or... I stop myself right there. I almost died a few days ago. I’ve lived like a nun, well a very combative nun, my entire life. I’m not going chastely to sleep tonight, not with the drumbeat of arousal pulsing in my clit.

  I pull on my oversized t-shirt, but that’s about as much exercise as my arm can handle.

  He’s already in bed. I can see his bare chest, but have no idea if he’s wearing anything down below. I sit on his side of the bed and hand him a towel. “I can’t dry my hair. Can you help me?”

  He sits up, swings both feet to the floor, and pulls me between his legs. His loincloth-covered erection, hard as steel, presses against the crease between my ass cheeks. His naked chest is pressed against my back. He leans over me slightly, fluffing my shoulder-length brown hair.

  “Computer, dim lights,” he speaks to the room. We’re immediately bathed in near darkness. I’m totally focused on the towel sensually caressing my scalp, his body pressed next to mine, and the soft sounds of his breathing.

  He drops the towel to the floor, lifts my hair and begins laving my neck with his tongue. Oh, erogenous zone! He flicks the skin, then blows on it. My nipples pucker in response, as well as a happy little twinge down below. Did he say he’s never been with a woman before? Maybe they taught this stuff in med school, because for a beginner he’s pretty amazing.

  He scrapes the area with his teeth, working his way to the surface behind and under my ear. He scrapes the shell, then penetrates it with his tongue. Oh, that’s making me wet, and not just in my ear.

  I lean forward, just a tiny bit, to press my core into the mattress, to take the edge off my need. He felt that, because he braces his forearm against my lower belly and hauls me back toward him. His erection is kicking against my bottom. I’m in heaven. I’m so aware of every sensation coursing through my nerves and synapses.

  “Computer, lights off,” he says. There are no windows, no light seeps under the door. It is pitch black in this room.

  “Do you remember the last three words you spoke before Zar interrupted us in the solarium, Nova?” His warm breath caresses my ear. “I do,” he croons. “You said ‘make me come.’ I could barely listen to the briefing on the bridge because all I could think of were those words and all the ways I want to do that. But I also remember what you told me just now in medbay. That you want to be heard. So tell me, Sweet Nova, what do you want tonight?”

  I want to just say “make me come.” But the bonding thing scares me. Am I ready to make that commitment to him? Right now? Although the attraction is real and immediate, am I ready to be bonded till death do us part? Correction, bonded even after death? Am I ready to say yes to that?

  “Would that mean we’re bonded, Drayke? I’m not ready for that.”

  “Dacian bonding has customs; it’s a process I’ll explain later. But, no, me giving your body delicious pleasure tonight will not complete the bonding process.”

  He’s waiting for an answer, I can tell. But his hands are busy roaming from my knees to thighs, up the outside of my flanks, up under my arms. When he tires of this, he reaches under my t-shirt and holds the weight of my breasts in his palms.

  I hear his quick intake of breath, his excitement at simply touching me. Then he flicks my hardened nubs between his thumbs and index fingers. Back and forth—rolling the tips of my breasts with just enough pressure to command my full attention.

  “How am I supposed to think with you doing that?” I scold.

  He immediately moves his hands to chastely wait at my waist—for a moment. Then he presses me back against him with his forearms and rides my ass with his bound erection.

  “Are you smiling back there?” I’m beginning to learn him, his mannerisms.

  “My face is happy and smiling. Nova. Other parts of me are hard and impatient,” he breathes into my ear, his naked chest against my back.

  “Let’s keep doing what we’re doing and see what happens,” I hedge.

  “You’re going to regret what you told me in medbay, Nova. You said you wanted to determine your own life. No, we’re not going to see what happens. No path of least resistance. You get to decide.” He pauses a moment and then adds, “You decide, but after you say yes, I’m completely in charge.”

  Why this pushes me over the edge, I have no idea, but my nether regions absolutely love the idea of him in charge.

  “Yes.” It’s barely a whisper.

  “Tell me, Nova. Tell me what you want.”

  “Yes.” Maybe he didn’t hear me.

  “Yes what, my Sweet. What do you want?”

  “Yes, Drayke. I want you to touch me any way you want, for as long as you want, wherever you want until I come.”

  He nips my earlobe. “As you wish.”

  Dr. Drayke sun Omrun

  Wasting no time, I stand, lifting her with me, arranging her legs straddling my waist. My dear God Anteros, she’s wearing nothing under her thin t-shirt. Her naked core is compressed against my bare abdomen. I bite my lower lip, trying not to moan in urgent desire.

  “Computer, dim lights.” I think she’d prefer complete darkness, but I have to see her. I want to drink in the sight of her.

  I slip my hand behind her neck and ply her with kisses; little ones on her lips, her cheeks, her jaw. I want to touch her everywhere. I want it all, I want it now. Instead, I take a breath and slow down. I had a strategy: plunder her mouth, lay her on the bed, and move on from there. But her core squeezed against my abdomen, dripping wet with desire, has derailed my best-laid plans.

  “I’m going to make you come, Nova. I’m going to make you scream. Many times, Sweet One. If I’m lucky, perhaps you’ll scream my name.”

  I scrape the cords of her neck with my teeth. She moans. I can feel the vibrations on my lips. I can’t hold back, I lay her on the bed. My bed. My bonded mate is in my bed. I gently pull the shirt up over her head, then memorize every inch of her pink skin.

  Her beautiful face is already blushing with sexual desire; her rosy lips are far pinker than mine. Her eyes are closed. I believe her thoughts are turned in on themselves; she’s focused only on me and my actions. I’m focused fully on her: magnificent pink-tipped breasts, rising with each breath, flat stomach, rounded hips, and brown triangle of hair at the juncture of her thighs.

  “Keep your eyes closed, Sweet. Focus on every nerve ending.”

  I place my index finger at the middle of her hairline, then slowly trail it down her forehead, nose, the indent between nose and lips. Then my finger outlines the edges of her lips, tracking it in a complete circle, first one direction, then the other, then across the seam of her mouth. My touch is so light it tickles; she shakes her head, the feeling too intense. I do this again, a bit harder, she begins to pant.

  “Open your mouth.” She complies. Immediately. The perfect mate for me, so open. I gently touch the tip of her tongue with my finger, then trace her lower lip. I press the edge of my thumb inside her mouth.

  “Lick it.”

  She does.

  “Suck it, Sweet One.” Her lips close around my thumb and she tongues it. She scrapes it gently with her teeth. I pull my thumb out, leap off the bed, and back two steps away. I imagine her tongue on my cock, which makes it kick so furiously I fear I’m going to orgasm right this moment.

  “Very good, Nova. Too much to handle. I just have to settle myself down.”

  She opens her mouth for me again, awaiting my return. No more of that, I decide. This needs to be about her.

  I climb onto the bed, my knees on either side of her waist. My hands pluck the tips
of her breasts. This drives her wild; she writhes, wiggling her bottom and lifting her chest to grant me better access. I bend forward, continuing to tweak with my right hand, but replacing my left hand with lips and teeth. At first I lick, pressing hard with the tip of my tongue, then circling the little bud. I scrape the peak with my teeth. This is her favorite, she rewards me by bucking her hips. Oh yes, she likes this a lot.

  I continue this for long moments until she makes a deep moan in the back of her throat, then I switch sides. Her head tosses back and forth, as if she can’t process all the information bombarding her nerve endings.

  I take pity on her and give her a break. I lean forward and scrape her earlobe. When I sit back up and place my hands on her breasts again, my fingers surrounding her mounds, a thumb on each nipple, I’m struck by the contrast. My blue skin on hers of rosy pink. I don’t believe I could ever tire of this, the juxtaposition of our coloring.

  She seems restless. I know she wants more. I lean over her, making sure my skin grazes her chest. “Tell me what you want,” I whisper in her ear.

  “I want to touch you, Drayke. I want to see your cock, feel your hardness.”

  I suck in a quick intake of breath. Dear Lord, I’m burning with desire to do just that. Each ince of my body she touches sets a torch to my nerve endings. I use every ounce of energy I possess to slow my thoughts, calm my actions. “I want that too, Sweetness. It’s too dangerous. The bonding...I need to keep myself in check.”

  She pouts for a moment, her face so expressive.

  “Might there be something else?” I tease. “Maybe one or two other things that might please you?”

  She thinks for a moment. Actually, I don’t know if she’s really thinking, or if she’s just working up the nerve to ask for what she already knows she wants. I move between her legs and sit back on my heels. I just memorize her. The beauty of her sex. It’s dusky pink, a completely different color than any other part of her body. Her folds glisten with wetness, some of which has seeped onto the bed. The rich scent of her arousal could bring a dead man back to life.

  I slip my knee between her legs, touching her damp vee. She immediately slides down, pressing herself more heavily against me, pulsing in rhythm.

  “Does that feel good, Nova? You like that?” I note the cadence. She’ll want that same tempo from my face and hand.

  “Open your eyes.” She doesn’t comply.

  “Open your eyes, Sweet. Look at me.” She reluctantly drags her lids open.

  “Embarrassed.” She explains as she tries to close her legs, to cover herself from my gaze. She puts her hands there, her eyes looking away from me.

  “You never need be embarrassed with me, Nova. Nothing you could do would bother me. Nothing. Just look at me, looking at you. What do you see?”

  She gathers her courage and forces herself to glance at me. “I see Drayke. Handsome male, pale blue skin, deep blue eyes, blue-black hair. The hollows of your cheeks, so sexy. The lips, so full. Kissable.”

  I smile, how could I not? “What do you see in my eyes, Nova? What do they tell you?”

  She starts to speak, then stops. She still looks embarrassed. “You tell me, Drayke. What do your eyes say?”

  I’ll indulge her, although I think she knows. “That I care about you. That I want you to be my bonded mate. I want to love you forever. There’s nothing you could do or say that would upset or offend me. Is that what you saw?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, just let your body enjoy what I do. Computer, lights out.”

  Nova

  He leans down and nips his way from my inner knee to the juncture of my thighs. Dear God, he’s got my attention. He breathes on my clit and before I have a chance to really enjoy the warm heat, he licks there. His tongue is soft at first, touching every spot, from above the bud almost to my wet channel.

  “You taste so good, Nova. I knew you would.” His voice is huskier than I’ve ever heard it.

  Then he stiffens his tongue and presses harder, investigating, finding the places that make me suck in my breath, the places that make my hips roll, and the ones that force me to make an involuntary moan. He places his mouth over my clit and sucks.

  “Oh, God!”

  Then he presses harder, perhaps with the bone of his jaw, on the side of my bundle of nerves. This isn’t just delicious; this could push me over the edge. His finger’s at my opening, in no farther than the first knuckle. I focus on that finger. I need that finger in me. I need the penetration. But the finger just toys with my wetness there, it doesn’t enter.

  “Please,” I urge.

  “Please what?”

  I think I understand, he wants to be sure I’m ready for this. He promised what we were doing isn’t bonding. Hell yes, I’m ready for this.

  “Penetrate me, Drayke. Make me come.”

  He keeps just the right rhythm and pressure and slowly slips his finger into my welcoming channel. I’ve been riding the edge of release for long minutes, so when he enters me, it pushes me over. My inner walls spasm, pressing against his finger. Guttural noises escape my mouth and I ride the wave of pleasure.

  “Drayke,” I grind out through tight muscles. My whole body is contracting in surges of ecstasy. This feeling is better than anything I ever dreamed of. For a moment I’m incapable of thought.

  He stays down there for long moments, his finger still inside me. When my delicious contractions are over he kisses me—dozens of soft close-mouthed kisses, then he moves up my body, kissing me everywhere. Then he’s lying on his side on my left, kissing my face, my lips. That’s what I taste like? I always thought it wouldn’t taste good. But it’s sweet. I shouldn’t have worried.

  “Precious.” He strokes my hair.

  “Thank you, Drayke.” I kiss his face.

  “You’re probably tired, Sweet One. Go to sleep.”

  What? “No. You’re already half-crazed from the bonding hormones. Let me ease you, Drayke. Let me make you come, too. Teach me. I’m sure I’ll be a quick study.” I move down his body and try to crawl between his legs. I want to put my mouth on him. I want to learn his taste. I want to give him the pleasure he just gave me.

  “No!” His tone is forceful, so unlike him.

  “You told me to ask for what I want. This is what I want.” There’s a slightly petulant tone to my voice—I’m not proud of it.

  “No.” He reaches under my arms and pulls me on top of him, the crown of my head under his chin.

  “I want to taste you,” my voice is breathy.

  “I promised you I wouldn’t do anything that would bond you. You don’t want that. Putting me in your mouth would do that. I’ll explain tomorrow. Now is the time for sleep.”

  “Okay, you just do that Dr. Drayke. You explain tomorrow, but now is not the time for sleep. I can’t put my mouth on you, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “On Earth we have a saying, ‘there’s more than one way to skin a cat’. I don’t even know why we say it, it’s gross and we don’t skin cats one way much less more than one. Which is my way of explanation for this.”

  I situate my left hip next to his right one and drag my nails sharply up the inside of his thigh from knee to groin. Sudden intake of breath. Good. I’ve got his attention; he’s shut up and isn’t bossing me around.

  I’m right-handed, and this is my first handjob, but this poor bastard is so horny, I think even with several handicaps I can get the task done.

  “Computer, dim lights.” I’ve seen plenty of men’s penises, considering I’ve fought naked in dozens of arenas with lots of males of many species. But it’s this particular penis I’m extraordinarily interested in seeing.

  Frankly, it’s beautiful as penises go. Tall and thick and blue. A deeper blue than the rest of his gorgeous skin. Not cobalt, like his eyes, but ocean blue. It’s hard and straight and covers his navel. I want this to be good for him. My left hand is second best. I don’t want to give him second best. I reach out with my right ha
nd. As luck would have it, moving at this angle feels just fine.

  I rearrange my position and go back to scratching up and down his thigh. Almost to his balls, then back down. Every time I almost get there, he moves a bit toward me, as if he could make me accidentally graze him.

  “I’ll touch you when I’m ready, doc,” I scold. And then, when he’s not ready, I grab both testicles in a gentle grip. He moans. Poor guy, he gives the term blue balls new meaning.

  I’m not quite sure what to do with these, but I have a definite idea of what to do with the steel-hard rod above them. I grasp the shaft, right below the head and just explore. He’s so ready to explode; I figure I’ll do more heavy-duty investigation at a later date. Now I just notice how velvety soft the skin is, and how solid the structure is underneath.

  “Show me, Drayke. Put your hand on mine and teach me what you like.” There, it wasn’t difficult at all to ask for what I wanted. He grabs my hand; his grip is hard, way firmer than I would have guessed. He presses my hand up and down the shaft; I learn his preferred rhythm, the pressure he likes, how far up and how far down I should slide. The tempo quickens and he comes, ropey jets of pale blue liquid stream onto his hard, sculpted abs. Fascinating.

  He lets out a soft grunt, strokes a few more times, and then pulls me down toward him, on my left side so neither of us smashes the surgical site. He wipes himself with his side of the sheets, then throws his arm around my waist so he’s spooning me.

  “Wonderful,” he croons into my ear. “So generous of you, Nova. Sleep.” And he’s seriously asleep, just like that.

  Chapter Nine

  Nova

  The next two days are a blur of lust and physical therapy. Whatever Drayke put into the salve he concocted is doing its job. The wound is healing fast, and looking better. The scar, though, is less important than my mobility and dexterity, which are getting better each day as well. Every morning Drayke applies the topical healing cream which he infused with a painkiller. After applying a layer of plas-film and a thin wrap of gauze, I’m pain-free and set for the day.