Dragon's Complete Desire: The Killington Dragons (Paranormal Romance) Page 14

  “Yes,” she said, nodding eagerly. Joran began to move, rocking his hips slowly. Every thrust made the ridges and bumps along the shaft of his member rub along her inner walls. Adriana shivered, pushing her hips down to meet Joran’s thrusts, her hands exploring the firm planes of his back and shoulders as they moved together. She wrapped her legs around his waist, twisting and pivoting her hips, as he began to move faster inside of her, pushing deeper and deeper inside.

  In a matter of moments, it seemed, Adriana felt her pleasure mounting, felt the tingling electricity coursing through her body. “God, you feel good,” she cried out as Joran filled her up over and over again, brushing up against her g-spot with each thrust. She cried out as she reached her second orgasm; but Joran showed no sign at all of stopping; her climax intensified as he continued to thrust into her steadily, his body somehow tensing. Joran shouted a string of sounds that must be his native language, and Adriana gasped as a flood of hot, thick fluid gushed into her; it tingled as it coated her inner walls, heightening her orgasm until she felt overwhelmed by the pleasure. Adriana barely felt the fluids dripping out of her as Joran’s movements began to slow, a few last spurts of his alien ejaculate shooting into her. She collapsed against the bed, too exhausted to fight the languor that came over her.

  Joran watched Adriana carefully, torn between concern and renewed desire; she had felt so good, wrapped around him—so tight, so wet, so inviting. He cradled the human woman in his arms, holding her, trying to decide whether he might have done something wrong. He knew that some of the other scientists on the crew had already begun experiments with human women; he was tempted to contact one of his colleagues and ask about this particular reaction. To the best of his people’s knowledge there should be no medical complications or allergic-type reactions between the two species—but of course, until they knew more about humans, they couldn’t be certain.

  Adriana began to stir, and Joran felt his heart beating a little faster. “You are okay, Adriana?” he asked quietly.

  “Mm,” she mumbled, turning towards him. “I’m going to be walking bow-legged for a week, but I’ll survive.”

  Joran frowned, puzzled at the comment. “Explain please?” The captivating woman’s eyes opened, and Joran felt a stirring of desire deep down at the hazy pleasure he saw on her face as she looked up at him.

  “I am not sure I even know how to explain,” Adriana said with a short laugh, shaking her head. She bit her bottom lip, and Joran could feel the pulse of desire in her body—and his own body’s reaction to it. “You—your—sex organ,” she began hesitantly. “It’s really big. Like—freakishly big, by human standards.” Joran nodded. He had been pleasantly surprised that her body could accommodate him as easily as it did, even knowing that human females often self-lubricated. “I will be…” she paused again, considering. “Walking funny—do you understand?”

  Joran frowned, thinking. “Ah—yes, I see,” he said, smiling as the meaning of her words filtered through his mind, translated into his own language. “I did not hurt you?”

  Adriana shook her head. “You did not hurt me,” she replied. “I…oh God, I just had the best sex of my life with a damned alien.” Adriana shook her head.

  “I am very good at human sex,” Joran told her. “I have researched intensely.”

  “How, exactly, did you—research?” Adriana asked, peering up at him closely.

  “Your species has a wealth of material,” Joran explained. “This is how I know that human women must achieve orgasm during the mating experience.” Adriana’s lips twitched.

  “That—that isn’t actually required,” she said, chuckling slightly. “I mean, it’s a big plus, but women conceive from forced sex that they don’t enjoy in the slightest.”

  Joran frowned, remembering the films he had seen. The women in them had achieved climax in every one—it had seemed to both him and his colleagues that this was a required component of the experience.

  “I must ask you many questions,” Joran said. “We may have made wrong assumptions; that should be clarified.” Adriana bit her bottom lip, and Joran wondered if this was a signal of reproductive readiness in the species, or in her individual culture—he could detect her arousal beginning to intensify.

  “We’ll keep the ‘women must come’ assumption on the table; if there are a bunch of you doing this, I’d like for all of the women you recruit to at least have a good time.”

  Joran laughed. “But there are other discoveries that must be made,” he pointed out.

  “What exactly are you trying to find out?” Adriana asked him. Joran felt a flicker of guilt for the fact that he had not told this woman the whole truth of his mission.

  “We are exploring human female reproduction,” he said. “My race, the Khateen…we are hopeful that perhaps human genetics would be worth incorporating into our own; either to enhance our offspring, or to create new offspring that would have features of both.” Adriana took a deep breath and exhaled.

  “You know,” she said slowly. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Also, you’re not…the idea isn’t that poorly founded.” Joran frowned, tilting his head to the side to silently request an explanation. “Humans—well, really, really early humans—basically…” she laughed. “We came to be the way we are because our distant ancestors had sex with anything that even vaguely resembled another human.”

  Joran chuckled. “So you and I mating is not an unprecedented human event?”

  Adriana shrugged. “I would hope that if you mated with early humans you’d already know what you needed to about us. But we’re a combination of several different earlier species.”

  Joran inhaled sharply at the epiphany this information gave him. “That explains it! One of the questions we are exploring is why your genetic code is so complex, and so varied.”

  Adriana nodded. “Homo sapiens, Neanderthal, the Denisova… we’re all…” she shrugged. “There’s been a big mish-mash of species to make the human race.”

  “I must research,” Joran told her. He paused, sensing her lingering arousal. “I believe though that you are ready to mate again?” he reached down, stroking the slick folds of her sex. Human women were so different from the females of his own species, Joran thought. He brought his hand up to cup one of Adriana’s breasts. He admitted privately to himself that he could almost consider Adriana at least to be a vast improvement on any of the temptations the females on his own planet could offer.

  “If you go really, really slowly,” Adriana said, licking her lips. “I think I can do that again without passing out.”

  Joran smiled, leaning in to kiss her on the lips. That was one aspect of human mating rituals that he thought would definitely enrich the process of his own people’s mating; there was something intimate about the act, even more so than the coupling itself, or the tasting of each other’s sex organs.

  “I enjoy kissing you,” Joran told Adriana. “It is something I have never experienced.”

  Adriana smiled against his lips. “Just how long are you going to be here on the planet?” she asked him. Joran, remembering something he had seen in one of the research videos he had watched about human sexuality, turned onto his back, lifting Adriana on top of him. He felt his penis beginning to harden, remembering how good she had felt—how good she had tasted—the first time. He was more than eager to experience her body again.

  “Indefinitely,” Joran explained. “If we are able to cross your genetics with ours, the hope is to develop that new strain. We will have to stay here to continue research.”

  Adriana shook her head. “And no one knows who you are or what you are?”

  Joran nodded. “We all have human identities. It is important to our work.” He moved Adriana on top of him, shifting underneath her until the tip of his cock brushed against her already-soaking labia. “No more questions now,” he told her firmly, smiling. “We need to repeat our experiment.” Adriana chuckled, looking down at him with a mixture of amusement and desire.


  Joran felt a wave of heat as she sank down onto him achingly slowly, taking his member inside of her by inches. She was every bit as tight as before, and as her inner muscles flexed around him, Joran gripped her hips, fighting back the urge to fill her up in one fast, hard thrust. She was so tight, her slickness the only thing making it possible for him to push past the resistance of her body; as Adriana reached out to steady herself, her hands on his shoulders, he felt her muscles tighten around him convulsively.

  They began to move together, and Joran pulled Adriana down against his body, finding her lips with his own, kissing her over and over again as he felt the pleasure coursing through him. He let his hands wander over her enticing body, exploring and testing, caressing her the way he had seen in videos, teasing her as she rocked her hips, taking him deeper and deeper. “I want to do this every day,” Joran murmured in her ear.

  Adriana, moving a little bit faster, moans leaving her lips, nodded. “I am—I agree. I think…I think that is a wonderful idea.”

  Joran felt his muscles beginning to tense, his body tingling with the pleasure of higher and higher arousal. He wrapped his arms around Adriana’s body, holding her close as he thrust up into her over and over again. While he now knew that she did not have to achieve orgasm to be impregnated, Joran couldn’t help but want to bring this woman to climax—it felt so good to feel her pleasure, to hear her crying out. He brought her breasts to his mouth one by one, worshiping the mounds of flesh with lips and tongue, and when Adriana gasped and shuddered against him, Joran knew that she was close.

  He held back long enough to feel the first convulsive spasms of her pleasure as Adriana reached her third orgasm, and then let go of his own release, groaning and shouting in his native language as he flooded her with his seed. He knew that there was no chance that she could become pregnant—but he knew that this coupling, this mating, was about much more than reproduction.

  “Will you…help me research?” Joran asked, smiling as they both collapsed against the bed together.

  “Sure,” Adriana said breathlessly. “As long as…you keep…doing this to me.”

  ****

  He filed his initial report a few weeks after he had met with his subject—the human woman that he was compelled to mate with, again and again—for the first time. Joran was learning more and more about the complexities of human sexual reproduction with every meeting he had with Adriana. After they had satisfied their mutual needs, he had collected genetic material from her and analyzed it; there would be many barriers and obstacles to overcome in bringing human genetics into the Khateen’s genetic material, but he was more than willing to spend the rest of his indeterminate stay on the planet learning the nuances of Adriana’s sexuality, and the contours of her body.

  Joran glanced over at the bed where Adriana was fast asleep, exhausted from their efforts at exploring each other’s bodies. He smiled to himself. He had not thought when he had embarked on the mission that he would meet a mate; he had never considered the possibility that a human woman would suit him. He stood up from his console, moving towards the bed. Perhaps in a few minutes, Adriana would awaken, and they would be able to experiment some more. The idea sent a hot jolt through him; Joran could barely wait.

  Captured By Two Aliens

  “I'm coming! I'm coming! I'm coming!” Rachel hollered across her empty living room as she made a mad dash across her apartment wearing nothing but a towel to reach the ringing cell phone she'd forgotten in her purse.

  She knew hollering at the phone wasn't going to make the caller on the other end stay on the line any longer, but she couldn't help it. She delved into her purse, releasing the towel in her haste. Her hands found the cell phone in the same moment the towel hit the floor. She'd forgotten to close the curtains, and any passerby on the street would easily be able to see into her second story windows, but this call was too important to miss. She slid her finger across the screen to answer the call, hoping for the good news she'd been longing to hear.

  “OK. I see. Thanks very much. Yes, of course. There's always next time,” Rachel spoke methodically into the phone and then pressed a button to end the call.

  Forgetting about the towel, Rachel walked despondently back across the room, the moonlight streaming through the windows, gently highlighting every curve of her tall, slim frame. Her long, flaming red hair cascaded down her back and shimmered in the soft light. She rummaged listlessly through her dresser drawer and slipped on a black satin thong. She had intended to locate its matching bra, but the effort seemed too much to bother with at the moment. Feeling deflated, she sat down instead.

  “I can't believe they passed me over for some girl from Alaska. Alaska!” Rachel whispered incredulously, sitting on the edge of her bed, bare-breasted and forlorn.

  She had really thought that this audition was the one. She had risen above the majority of the competition, even received a call-back this time. But the chestnut-haired twit with the blue eyes and clueless, perky smile ended up with the part. Rachel had no doubt that the Alaskan girl fucked her way into the role, and that was the only reason Rachel wasn't the one rehearsing on set right now. It wasn't that Rachel was a prude—she liked sex just as much as the next girl—but she wasn't exactly what one would call “wild,” and she certainly couldn't fathom sleeping with some director or producer to make her career happen.

  She was beautiful, talented and intelligent—that should count for something, right? At least, that's what Rachel had thought four years ago when she arrived in L.A. But, years later and no acting jobs in sight left her thinking that unless she was ready to add “Blow Jobs 101” to her résumé’s list of academic accomplishments, she wasn't landing a career-launching role anytime soon. She flopped back on her mattress and stretched her arms above her head.

  Her dream of becoming an actress wasn't unique, she knew—it was the dream of a multitude of young women. But, Rachel wasn't only interested in fame and fortune. With stardom came the opportunity to effect real change in the world. People would listen when she spoke and pay attention to the causes that were important to her. When she supported a foundation seeking to end world hunger, others would follow in her footsteps, and together they would make change happen. But, so many years later and the only impact she'd made was providing a finer dining experience for too-rich restaurant-goers with more money than manners.

  Rachel stared out her window, always fascinated by the multitude of stars that blanketed the sky, and honed in on one that appeared particularly bright tonight. It seemed to almost flicker in the dark sky, and each time it was brighter than before.

  “Would it be totally ridiculous of me to wish on a star?” she queried aloud wryly.

  But the longer she stared at the bright light in the sky, the more it compelled her. She was drawn to it, so much so that seemingly of its own volition, her body sat upright and leaned forward. It wasn't enough. Rachel stood and crossed the few steps from the bed to the window, her eyes never leaving the bright star. Her hands rose to press against the window in front of her, as if beseeching it to move her closer to the star trapped in her gaze.

  “OK. Here goes nothing,” she conceded, feeling a little foolish. But a nagging voice in the back of her mind got louder; it assured her that there was nothing foolish in what she did now.

  “I want to be a leader. I want to make change happen. I want to live in a world where what I've done has mattered somehow,” she wished aloud.

  She felt ridiculous, but the task was done and over with now. And a calm, comforting feeling washed over her. She moved gracefully toward her closet, her hips swaying gently, and reached for a form-fitting, silky cream-colored tee and a pair of boy-cut shorts. She slipped on the clothes, her breasts pressing firmly against the fabric of her shirt, her nipples clearly visible through the light-colored material. The shorts barely covered her ass and hugged every curve. Though definitely not traditional lingerie, the outfit made her feel incredibly sexy, and since she was the only person in her apar
tment tonight, she could sleep in whatever outfit she chose.

  Rachel crawled beneath her covers, enjoying the feel of the lightweight fabric of her sheets caressing her bare skin. She'd worry about her non-existent acting career in the morning. For now, she held onto that calm, peaceful feeling and within moments, she drifted off to sleep.

  ****

  She awoke slowly, stretching languidly to feel the soft rub of the bed linens. But the sheets weren't covering her body. With her eyes still closed, she felt around the mattress for their softness, thinking she must have kicked them off during the night. But she didn't find the plush texture of her mattress beneath her hands. Instead, her hand made contact with a smooth, cool surface. Rachel's eyes were open in a flash, but the darkness surrounding her made the action pointless. She couldn't remember her apartment ever having been so dark before. She moved to sit abruptly, but she couldn't bring herself upright. Her arms and legs were free to move, but her torso was immobilized.

  She tried to remain calm, fighting the panic rising within her. Rachel's first thought was that something happened to her. Had she somehow suffered some injury that caused damage to her spine? But the last thing she remembered was climbing into bed, perfectly healthy and uninjured. Certainly a fall from the height of her bed could not cause serious damage. And how could she move her arms and legs if she had suffered a spinal injury? She fought to sit upright again, lifting her head off the hard surface beneath her. While still immobilized, the action reassured her that she had definitely not suffered a paralyzing injury; too much of her body could move freely.