Why did she sound so bitter? Were the microbes not accurately translating their words? “It’s been six Earth years since I’ve touched a woman. Four of those years I was waiting for you.”
“No, you were waiting for—”
He silenced her with his mouth. Her strategy was clearly to argue and complain until he lost his erection. Not bloody likely. His cock had stretched to full attention the instant his indicator light started blinking, and he was likely to stay hard until he’d spilled inside her at least three times.
Keeping her wrists firmly pinned with one hand, he reached down with the other and tore away the small black undergarment. The dress was meant to give him easy access to all her soft female parts, but she’d obviously intended to resist him from the beginning. Well, enough of her nonsense.
She was a Decadent Dancer—and he wanted to dance!
A muffled cry escaped her mouth as he covered her mound with his palm. Her heat sank into his skin, promising greater warmth to come. He wanted to soothe her, didn’t want their first time to be quite this adversarial, but she needed to understand their positions were nonnegotiable. She was his dance partner. Her only responsibility was to “service” his body, regardless of how upsetting she found the word.
Then a possibility insinuated itself into his mind and his heart gave a sickening lurch.
Had they sent him a cursed virgin? Was she even younger than she looked? The thought of being a woman’s only dance partner had a strange appeal, but dealing with her fear and the pain he would cause while rending her hymen far outweighed the thrill of exclusivity.
Vaden slowly worked his middle finger into her warm slit, amazed by the heat and softness. Her legs tensed against his sides, but his torso held her thighs apart. He easily found the center of her pussy—and slipped inside.
Thank the heavens. She was not a terrified virgin. Just a stubborn female about to be plowed by a dance- starved man!
Chapter Two
Zoe was utterly helpless, and yet she wasn’t afraid. None of this was real, after all. Vaden was the personification of her darkest fantasies. He had the body of a barbarian warlord and the face of an elfin god. And as if that weren’t enough, he was so desperate for sex that he thought she was perfect. What more could any woman want?
She hadn’t set out to expand her reality through chemistry, but now that she was over the rainbow, she intended to enjoy every minute of this incredible fantasy. Hopefully she’d come down with her mental faculties intact, and then she’d find herself a damn good lawyer.
Vaden’s lips moved over hers, caressing and coaxing until she parted for his tongue. Even then he didn’t thrust inside like some overanxious schoolboy. He used finesse and an experienced man’s patience. It wasn’t surprising that he knew how to kiss. He was a figment of her imagination.
His tongue slowly retreated as he lifted his head. “Are you ready to dance with me now? This will be much better for you if I don’t have to hold you down.”
“What happens if I say no?” She stared into his silver-streaked eyes, pretty sure she wasn’t going to refuse. Some part of her psyche obviously needed this experience or her mind would have explored different images.
“I’ll keep kissing you until you change your mind.”
“Why has it been so long since you—”
He took her hand and pressed it against his erection, his eyes narrowed and bright. “If you want me to be gentle, we need to stop talking.”
“Fair enough.” His hand moved but her fingers lingered, emboldened by his obvious pleasure. Hallucination or alien or dream, he was the most desirable man she’d ever seen. She seemed to be trapped in this alternate reality, so why not enjoy the ride? Her fingers curved over his thickness then skated along his length, the clingy material no real barrier between his hardness and her curiosity.
Should she ask about protection? She shook away the impulse. This wasn’t real!
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said with a sexy smile.
Of course he did. He was an extension of her own mind. “Do tell.”
“We no longer transmit disease through sexual contact and what we’re about to do cannot result in pregnancy. Procreation is more complicated with my species.”
“Which is?”
“Paridagon.” He balanced on his knees as he pulled off his shirt. “My home world is Paridago, though I’ve not been home since I was a child.”
She watched his muscles ripple and a silver pattern on his smoky skin shimmered in the diffused light. Unable to resist the temptation, she sat and raised her hand, tentatively touching his chest. “Are these tattoos?”
“No, the pattern occurs naturally. Each marking is as unique as the loops on your fingertips.”
Like rivulets of liquid silver flowing through fog, the intricate pattern began in the middle of his chest then branched out and expanded over his shoulders. It curved around his upper arms, ran the length of each forearm, then fanned out across the tops of his hands and formed individual strands that ringed his fingers.
“It’s…beautiful.” She settled for the word when more masculine adjectives failed to do the pattern justice. “Is it only on your upper body?”
“You can explore to your heart’s content—after.” He grasped the hem of her dress and whipped it off in one smooth motion then urged her onto her back.
He paused, the hunger in his gaze so painfully obvious it made her ache as well. She wasn’t sure why, but she raised her hands above her head and placed them as they’d been before. Only this time she was a willing prisoner, ready for the Decadent Dance.
His hands glided from her upraised arms to her knees in a never-ending pattern of strokes and squeezes. He leaned down and kissed her mouth for a moment then moved on to her breasts. And not just her nipples. He licked and sucked every curve, swell and hollow. She arched against his lips and clutched the back of his head, no longer able to remain passive as her senses caught fire.
She’d had sexual dreams before, though nothing had come close to matching the sensations zinging through her body. But this wasn’t a dream. She wasn’t awake. Her perceptions were being altered by whatever chemical compound the dress had contained. Right?
Vaden tore his mouth from her breast and frantically unfastened his pants, then his gaze focused on her pussy and he growled. The feral sound sent lustful tingles bouncing through her body.
Slipping off the foot of the bed, he knelt on the floor and dragged her hips to the edge of the mattress. Then he draped her legs over his shoulders and lowered his head between her thighs. Zoe looked down along her naked body and into the shimmering eyes of her alien lover. His gaze narrowed and his tongue slowly pushed between her folds.
His tongue circled and flicked, teasing her clit until she hovered on the brink of release. Then he shot to his feet and her legs slid to the bends of his elbows. He found the opening to her body and hesitated just long enough to coat himself with her cream.
“Ready?” He sounded so delightfully desperate, she wouldn’t have refused even if she’d been afraid, which she wasn’t.
She pushed to her elbows, needing to see their bodies joining. Her eyes widened then narrowed as a wave of scalding pleasure blurred her vision. Vaden’s shaft shimmered with silver markings as it disappeared into her wet core. His pants bunched around his knees, revealing that the silver pattern was indeed echoed on his lower body.
He drew his hips back and thrust deep and all thoughts of his markings disappeared. Her inner walls stretched tight around his thickness, each forceful thrust filling her right to the point of pain. Tangible, inescapable,
