Alien General's Bride: SciFi Alien Romance (Brion Brides) (21 page)

Oh, that.
That was all true, but looking around in his rooms forced Isolde to get to know him against her better judgment, and whatever else happened, as they drifted so very close to Briolina now, the only place where Isolde truly felt safe was next to him.

She flinched as he joined her in what looked to be his trophy room, smirking at the huge beast.

“That one did not want to admit defeat,” he said, but the joke sounded dry and forced and the smiles faded soon after.

When the food arrived, they ate and drank in silence. There wasn’t much to say that hadn’t already been said or wouldn’t have bounced off the wall of the same huge unchangeable problem between them.

“Naturally there is only one bed in my quarters,” Diego said stiffly. “Installing another would cause suspicion, and our image is too important for that to be allowed to happen.”

Isolde nearly choked on her food. They’d have to sleep together? She opened her mouth to say something about human men and sleeping on the couch, but the couches they were sitting on were not meant for sleeping, and she guessed Diego Grothan wouldn’t take the comparison to human men well.

Besides, a very guilty part of her didn’t want to say no to the idea. Didn’t want to say no at all.

---

Alright, she was very much drooling. She was pretty close to the point of
wanting
there to have been a love potion situation going on, because this was getting mighty embarrassing. A completely irrational thought kept nagging at her, whether it was possible that Diego Grothan was putting on a show for her. She doubted it, but that’s how it looked like.

The general had explained seriously, and with a calm so transparent as to let her see the internal turmoil simmering beneath as clear as day, that Isolde sharing his bed was a good idea and for the lack of another bed, unavoidable. He’d then pointed out, emotionless, that he would not seek contact with her and she could sleep in peace.

Isolde wasn’t worried about that. The Brions kept their word, and forcing women was anathema to them. She was worried about herself.

For good reason. Diego’s bedroom was dim like the rest of the ship, illuminated only by the globes on the walls and the valor squares in his neck. For once, Isolde found herself thankful for the lack of light, maybe she wouldn’t get caught literally unable to stop her mouth from watering.

Diego was more than gorgeous, he was flawless. His back was to her, perhaps an attempt to keep his modesty, but more likely to avoid her gaze. The armor was discarded along with the shirt underneath, leaving him standing there bare from the waist up. Strong, lean muscles glinted in the light of the pulsing crystals, showing his own desire, which Isolde did her best to ignore.

His skin was darker than hers, tanned by Terran standards, smooth and silky. She knew that from experience and could not stop the shiver of need to touch him again, feel the heat of his skin under her fingers. To be kissed by those lips and groped by those arms. Her eyes travelled downwards to the curve of his ass, made easier by Diego bending to remove his pants, giving her the full view of his nakedness.

If the Brions sleep naked, I’m dead. I’m so dead.

Her breath caught at sight of his cock, huge even half-hard. She couldn’t turn her eyes away even as Diego spun around at the sound she couldn’t have held back if she tried. When Isolde looked up, she saw him watching, completely without shame – but then again, what body issues could a guy like that have?

She suddenly realized she wasn’t very clothed either, dressed only in her panties and a long sleeveless shirt that didn’t even cover her bottom. His eyes were undressing her hungrily, that much she could tell without a doubt. With no armor to cover him, she could see him harden almost immediately. To have such an effect on that man… Isolde gulped.

She slid quickly under the covers on her side of the bed, watching as Diego joined her without a word. The light in the room dropped to near complete darkness. Her eyes took time to adjust, but in that time, all her other senses compensated.

Isolde became very aware of how close the general was, his form hard and strong like a solid wall next to her. She could hear his breathing quicken, felt his hand accidentally brush against her thigh when he adjusted his position and the shiver that shot through both of them at that.

This is maddening. Just turn to him. Touch him. Kiss him. Fuck him.

Isolde didn’t remember being that turned on in all her life, not even during the previous encounters with the general. The tinge of danger and the lure of the forbidden fruit made her grind her legs together for friction, her clit rubbing against her flesh, sending sparks of pleasure straight to her pussy, making her moan…

The general went so still that Isolde was, despite herself, terrified for a moment. His senses as keen as they were, what she was doing, what she was
feeling
had to be unbearable for him. To lie next to her and not be allowed to touch.

He got up, startling Isolde, but he merely went to the bathroom. The one without a door to separate it from the bedroom. There were no doors inside the quarters.

Her eyes went wide as he turned the water on, letting it fall, soaking him through in seconds.

Ah, cold showers. Another universal concept. This will work nic…

Isolde’s eyes went wide, and the running water only barely covered her astonished gasp as Diego took his cock in his hand and started stroking it hard, almost angrily. Isolde had a moment to think whether it hurt, but then she was pushing her fingers between her legs, wet already from the sight alone, but more from the
sounds
.

She could barely distinguish between the growls of frustration and the growls of pleasure – perhaps they weren’t two different things at all. She moaned out loud, letting the running water cover for her as she found her eyes glued to Diego’s body.

His hand worked faster, bringing him closer, water flowing over his perfect skin, making it gleam in the light that was pulsing quicker as he neared the edge. Even in the darkness of the room, she could see Diego’s hand stroking him, coming down to cup his balls, brushing past the head already leaking precum. If Isolde thought she’d been drooling before – now she had to grasp the sheets not to run to him and take it into her mouth. She could imagine what it would taste like, hot and heavy on her tongue, huge enough to barely fit –

“Fuck…” she heard him murmur. “Oh, fuck, Isolde…”

Hearing her name was too much for her. She threw the cover off, pushing her fingers in her pussy, trying to mimic the pace Diego was setting, her other hand working on her clit. As she watched, biting her lip, the only thought in her mind was,
That should be him inside me.

That should be him, fucking me into this mattress, crying out my name, pounding me so hard I can’t feel my legs afterwards. Him on top of me, that huge fucking cock buried deep into me, it would feel so good… So good. So good. Diego.

“Diego!” she cried before she could stop herself, coming for him even if it wasn’t him fucking her, her legs trembling from the exertion, falling to rest against the now hot sheets.

This
the general apparently heard, because his head snapped to Isolde’s direction and his eyes took in the entire scene spread out for him – Isolde laying there on the bed, her shirt pulled up to reveal the curve of her breasts, her hand still in her panties, her cheeks blushing, caught… Then he had to support himself on the wall with one hand, the other stroking his cock so fast Isolde could barely see. She started to pull the sheets back on when Diego snarled.

“Do not… fuck, do not move,” he gasped out. His eyes were fever-bright, burning with a passion that both terrified and excited Isolde. She didn’t move. She didn’t look away either as a long grunt escaped Diego’s lips and he came, gasping for air.

Only when he’d turned back to the shower, taking a long minute to let it wash him clean, did Isolde cover herself up again. It had been so good and it wasn’t even over – seeing Diego stroke himself looking at her had gotten her wet again so quickly it made her legs shiver.

Yet it was over. Diego dried himself and even though Isolde couldn’t tear her eyes from his naked body, neither of them moved towards the other again, even with passion in their hearts. Once was enough. After the orgasm hit, the pain came all rushing back. The pain of the mere inches between them that they couldn’t cross.

That I can’t cross
, Isolde thought miserably. 
And this is only the first night
.

Somehow, she fell asleep and when she woke, the other side of the bed was empty.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Isolde

Instead of Diego, it was Deliya waiting for her in the arena room. Bravely ignoring the painful snap of disappointment, Isolde put on the happy face of a
gesha
just arisen from her mate’s bed. It was a lovely morning for about two seconds, before the Brion woman smiled widely – she had a charming, warm personality under that stiff warrior way of being that Isolde was growing more fond of every day, inversely being less jealous of her looks – and it was clear it could be nothing good.

“You are all everyone is talking about,” she said, as if it was great news. Alright, so maybe it was, attention was what they needed. Attention on something other than Rhea. Somehow, Isolde still had to fake the excited smile, dreading the downside.

“Where?” she dared to venture. “Terra would be interested, I’m sure. Briolina. The GU?”

“Well,” Deliya said. “Everywhere, really.”

Oh crap. Oh my poor heart, I will not outlive this ever, will I? I’m the crazy girl that ran off with an alien warlord. I could make a perfectly good living if I convinced the Brions to just dump me on Terra and worked the talk shows ‘til my tongue was sore.

Someone – a brief questioning had Deliya spill the names, Urenya and Aneya – had convinced Diego it would do Isolde good to have some contact with her home and the outside world, even if it was so far limited to accessing the backlash to the announcement of her binding. To Diego Grothan.

Gods, have mercy
, Isolde thought, looking at the number of messages she’d received. Few were as brave as to send their holo-calls to the
Triumphant
’s identity codes directly – and who would have known them on Terra anyway – but they had come through
Luna Secunda
.

Some names were familiar. Some were horrible. Some she actually wanted to hear – those were a clear minority. The first and the third batch didn’t overlap in any way. To make things worse, Diego had instructed, for safety and tactical reasons, that she should have company while viewing the messages.

At least some gods were listening to Isolde’s rapid ascent to the religious life and he hadn’t tasked Faren or any of the looming warriors. If anyone was to accompany her, Isolde was as fine as she could be with Deliya and Urenya, chosen not only for their closeness to the commander, but for the rare talent of speaking quite a few galactic languages, including a small one like English. The healer joined them shortly after she’d ordered a large amount of the most alcohol-like beverage they had.

She looked surprised at Isolde’s coming-and-going smile.

“I am sorry,” she said, taking a seat next to her in the resting room, with the holoprojector mounted on the opposite wall. Deliya stood, as always, though she accepted a drink, not the alcohol-ish thing, though. “I thought you would like to hear from your friends and family.”

“It’s alright,” Isolde said, taking a big gulp from her drink. “I know you meant well. It’s just that the names I see here are neither in truth.”

“I am sorry,” Urenya said again, this time meaning her condolences. Isolde nodded.

“Better this way,” she joked. “My mother would lose her mind.”

They laughed. Isolde felt her lips tugged upwards for the first time in a long, miserable while. She relaxed a bit.

--

She selected professor Nagasuke first, just for the humor of having thought about her tutor the most of all the people in the course of her insane space adventure, thinking she’d have to send her a letter for real. The screen flared alive with the image of an old woman, her greying hair in a neat ponytail falling almost to her hips. Isolde liked her. She aged gracefully.

“Isolde – dear,” she began, looking worried. “I do not usually follow gossip, but the officials are confirming it on the TTV, so I must entertain the notion it is true. If this message reaches you… I… I don’t know what to say. I of all people should know you are a smart woman and would not act rashly,” –
You have not seen the abs on these guys
, Isolde’s self-deprecating mind provided – “but if it is true, I feel I must need to warn you about Brion men. Their physiology is larger than ours and I would not want you hurt–“

Isolde shut her off, red coloring her cheeks. Both her companions grinned.