Authors: Julia Sexton
Chapter 5
Waking up beside Garon felt surprisingly natural, and so did kissing him goodbye before he left for the day.
Melody felt like she could have run to Earth and back, and she flitted around the apartment, unable to sit still.
Never before had she felt anything that intense. It had been overwhelming, but in the best way. She couldn’t wait for whatever would come that evening.
Despite her excitement, when Garon walked in that evening, Melody still managed to just sit with him.
In theory, she was sitting with him as he watched television. In reality, she was mostly making up her own script and giving each character a ridiculous voice. Garon spent much of the time trying to hold back quiet laughter.
It felt natural. It felt
safe
.
That evening, once Garon had reduced Melody to a sweaty, moaning, writhing mess on the bed and was steadily thrusting four fingers into her, Melody expected him to let her come. She didn’t expect him to pull his fingers out when she was so close to her climax.
There was a moment of stillness as he waited for her to calm slightly, and then she felt something cool and firm press against her entrance, and she lifted her head to see what it was.
She watched with a strange sort of curiosity as the smooth, dark dildo slid into her, and then Garon angled it just so and Melody gasped and threw her head back. It stretched her, leaving her feeling impossibly full, but after all of the careful preparation, it didn’t hurt.
With the same gentle concentration as before, Garon thrust the dildo in until his hand around the base was flush with Melody’s heated skin. With each inward thrust, he gave it a twist, and it didn’t take long for Melody to once again be reduced to squirming incoherence.
She spread her legs farther and clenched her fingers in the blanket until it seemed like the fabric might tear. She tossed her head from side to side against the bed, lifted her hips to try to draw the dildo in farther, and moaned loudly and shamelessly.
Melody expected it to end after one round with the toy, but once again she was wrong. Three times Garon used it to bring her to the very edge of orgasm, and three times he wouldn’t let her tumble over that edge.
Melody was trembling and pawing desperately at Garon’s arms, as if to take the toy from him, but he deflected her hands masterfully. Heat built in Melody’s abdomen for the fourth time, and finally Garon decided to let her finish. He thrust the dildo steadily, and again Melody’s voice got louder as her orgasm drew nearer.
When at last her orgasm crashed over her, it was like being swept away on a tidal wave. It was too intense for her to even voice it, and she threw her head back, mouth open soundlessly.
Her back arched until it seemed it might break, and her orgasm rushed through her so intensely that she still managed to soak Garon’s hand, even when it was at the end of the dildo.
Melody went limp on the bed and Garon gathered her close again.
They were quiet at first, until Melody managed to sluggishly mumble, “Whatta ‘bou’ you?” against his shoulder.
She reached down to clumsily wrap one hand around his erection.
Garon hummed a deep, pleased note and began to thrust into her grip, closing one hand around hers to strengthen the grip.
There was no finesse, no patience, and no teasing, but as he thrust into their combined grip, Garon managed to reach orgasm. He came with a quiet groan, his voice muffled against Melody’s shoulder.
Afterwards, they curled together on the bed, and Melody was asleep in seconds.
They kissed leisurely on the couch, Garon lying on his back with Melody sprawled over his chest. They were both still naked, skin rubbing against skin in the best way.
The kiss broke, and Melody observed quietly, “You’re still here.” They were still close enough together that their lips brushed with each word.
“You haven’t left yet.”
Garon hummed a quiet affirmation and replied, “I thought I might get some work done here today.”
His work didn’t seem particularly interesting, and whatever it was, it seemed to involve a great deal of digital paperwork.
Melody curled against his side on the couch as he worked, keeping him company and occasionally pressing kisses against whatever patch of scales she could reach.
As he worked, Garon kept one arm wrapped around her, fingers idly stroking the skin of her side and hip.
It was comfortable and warm, and Melody thought that she could definitely get used to it.
They didn’t actually make it to the bed that night. Melody sat on the floor with her back against the couch and her legs spread wide as Garon worked the dildo into her pussy with slow, gentle determination.
Four fingers had already come and gone, and Melody let her head fall back against a couch cushion as she moaned. She chased the dildo after each thrust, so insistently that her ass left the floor each time.
She breathed in erratic gasps, broken only by the occasional syllable that never managed to be a word. The meaning was always clear, though; she was begging for more.
Slowly, Garon pulled the dildo out and set it aside. He shifted Melody onto her back on the floor, lifted her legs to hook them over his arms, and took hold of her hips.
As he lined himself up, he leaned down to kiss her. Their lips slid together slowly, tongues brushing together before retreating once more.
Carefully, Garon began to thrust in, moaning quietly as her soft heat engulfed his cock in increments.
When Garon’s cock was fully sheathed and their pelvises were pressed together, Melody shifted and squirmed as she adjusted to the feeling of being so utterly filled and stretched.
It didn’t hurt—Garon had been too careful for there to be pain—but it was a completely foreign feeling.
“Ready,” she finally breathed, her lips brushing his. “I’m ready.”
“Are you certain?” he asked, and at her nod, he began to move.
He kept his thrusts slow and shallow at first, but as tension began to build, so did the tempo, and soon enough, Garon was pounding into her as Melody moaned and gasped encouragement in his ears.
Even as he went faster and harder, he was always mindful of her, though. He was always careful not to hurt her.
“Oh, oh, yes,” Melody panted as orgasm drew closer.
“I’m gonna—I’m gonna—“ She didn’t get a chance to say what she was going to do, but it was fairly apparent anyway, as her back arched and she moaned.
Her orgasm crashed over her like a wave, and in between the gasps that never got to be true words, the words, “Oh, I love you,” spilled out.
Spurred on by the words he had been hoping for, Garon came just a few thrusts later. He buried his face in her hair and kissed the side of her head.
They curled together on the floor as they caught their breath. They lied in silence for a time, until Garon murmured, “I love you, too.”
Chapter 6
Melody was woken up by Garon shaking her shoulder.
“Come on, wake up,” he murmured, and before she could even sit up, he was pushing something like a bathrobe at her.
“Put this on and follow me.”
Only half awake, Melody clumsily wrangled herself into the robe and tripped after Garon as he led her out of the apartment and into the lift.
The ride was short that time, and when they stepped out, it was onto a floor that resembled a small airport.
“Almost there,” Garon said as he hastened her along.
They came to a small pod-shaped craft, and at Garon’s urging, Melody stepped inside and took a seat. Garon stepped in behind her and took a seat behind the steering controls. Mimicking his actions, Melody strapped herself in.
“Where are we going?” she asked, as she peered around the pod.
“It is a surprise,” he answered, with a cheeky smile.
“I have been getting everything in order to get this trip authorized since I first met you. It will not take long to get there.”
So Melody settled in to wait, and indeed, it wasn’t long. Only forty minutes later, Garon tossed a strip of fabric onto her lap and said, “No peeking.”
Obligingly, Melody blindfolded herself for the next twenty minutes.
The pod’s flight was so smooth that she didn’t even notice once they broke the atmosphere of wherever they were going, and she barely noticed when it landed. She was only aware they arrived when she heard the hatch open and Garon took her hand to lead her along.
“This way,” he said, and his voice sounded just slightly different. She didn’t question it yet.
He led her for a few dozen steps, and finally he said, “Now you can look.”
Melody eagerly tore off the blindfold, and it fluttered to the ground when what she saw before her rendered her incapable of moving for a few seconds.
She gaped, her mouth working silently as she tried to form words, but all that she managed was a stunned sob.
She took off at a sprint and a desperate, “
Daddy!
” tore itself out of her as she made a beeline for her father’s house.
She just barely heard a scuffle from inside, and then the door was thrown open, and she launched herself into her astounded father’s arms.
He stumbled back a few steps as he caught her, and soon they were both sitting on the floor in the hallway, sobbing on each other.
“W-where have you been?” her father asked, his voice muffled as he buried his face in her hair.
Melody managed a weak, soggy giggle. “It-it’s a really long story, Daddy. I’ll tell it when I can figure out how. But this”
She leaned away from her dad to look towards the still open door at Garon, and paused when she finally noticed that he looked almost entirely human.
The angular, regal features were still very much his, and his eyes still seemed too dark, but he could walk down a crowded street without attracting attention. Melody supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised.
She cleared her throat and finished her sentence. “This is Garon. He saved me.”
Her father had to swallow thickly before he could get the words out. He met Garon’s eyes.
“Thank you,” he said, painfully sincere, “for bringing my little girl home.” He gave Melody a squeeze.
“Will you be staying in the area?”
Garon nodded slowly. “I think so, yes.”
“You’d better,” Melody scolded, though she didn’t sound particularly intimidating.
Garon smiled gently.
“Well. How can I refuse such a demand?” It was settled. And maybe, just maybe, life could be good again.”
***
Seduced By The Alien Boss
Julia Sexton
Copyright 2015 by Julia Sexton
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced
in any way whatsoever, without written permission
from the author, except in case of brief
quotations embodied in critical reviews
and articles.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any
person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
First edition, 2015
Chapter 1
In the last five years, improvements in space exploration technology had leapt forward, improving more in just a few short years than in all the decades since the very first manmade object was launched into the upper atmosphere. In large part, it was due to Orbital Prime, a company dedicated to aerospace engineering.
The improvements that the company had made towards satellites, propulsion, space crafts, and even terraforming were incredible, and there were whispers and rumors that a sky colony on Venus and colonies on Mars and the moon were not so far off.
It was all rather exciting to think about, and the more Genevieve thought about it, the more excited she got about the idea of working for the company.
Not as a researcher or an engineer or anything so prestigious—she was smart, but with only a bachelor’s degree in English, they weren’t exactly the kinds of jobs she was qualified for—but as the CEO’s secretary.
Well, sort of his secretary. The job description had been something of a cross between a secretary and a personal assistant. Regardless, it was an honor to be allowed to work for such a company.
It was her first day on the job, and she spent a bit longer than usual standing in front of the antique, full-length mirror that her grandmother had willed to her. All things considered, she looked pretty good.
Her carefully tailored, orange blouse did wonders for her already ample bust, her black pencil skirt clung to her broad hips, and her black pumps emphasized the fact that she was tall without making her look like a giant.
Her make-up was somewhat minimal; gold eyeliner, gold and orange eye shadow, and mascara. Her black hair was in a bun on top of her head, easily kept out of the way.
Attractive, but professional. She was sure to make a good first impression.
The drive to the building seemed to take an eternity, and she hesitated outside the front door for a few seconds before she pushed the glass door open and stepped inside.
Just the lobby took her breath away. Everything was pristine and gleaming, and everything important was displayed on sleek, flat screens set into the walls. The walls were decorated with paintings of many different styles, and sculptures decorated the free spaces on the counters and tables.
Genevieve thought back to the instructions she had been given for her first day, took a deep breath, and walked over to the elevator and stepped inside. It was a crystal clear tube with the buttons situated on a center console, rather than on the elevator wall.
While it was a touch disconcerting at first, Genevieve couldn’t help but watch with a sense of wonder as the elevator rose through the various floors, passing through offices and labs and testing centers, until it stopped at the top floor.
She stepped out of the elevator and peered around at what she realized was not just an office, but a full penthouse. She could just make out part of a kitchen and living room through the glass door.
There was a desk in front of the glass door, sleek and glossy and made of glass and dark metal, and across from it a handful of chairs.
On the wall opposite the elevator was a dark door, with a gleaming plaque on it reading VINCENT GRIMOIRE, CEO.
Genevieve’s instructions had told her to simply get to work without interrupting him, so she sat down behind the waiting room’s desk, empty save for a computer that looked like it had to have cost more than her entire apartment and a phone that gleamed like a mirror.
She set her purse down on the desk, shifted around in the chair until she was comfortable, and began exploring the computer.
The schedule was…extensive. It seemed every moment Mr. Grimoire was awake, he was doing something. Meeting with engineers, inventors, heads of other companies, and even political figures. If he wasn’t in meetings, the schedule had loose estimations of when new projects could be unveiled.
Just reading all of it was exhausting, and Genevieve had to wonder how there were enough hours in a day.
The phone rang, jolting Genevieve back to the present. She picked it up before it could ring a second time and answered politely, “Orbital Prime. You’ve reached the office of Vincent Grimoire. How may I direct your call?”
Never to be a quiet moment, it seemed.
Two hours into the day, a young woman who couldn’t have been older than eighteen bustled into the waiting room with an empty messenger bag draped across her chest, and before Genevieve could even say a word to her, the woman hurried through the door into Mr. Grimoire’s office.
Ten minutes later, the young woman hurried right back out with the bag bulging, only to grind to a halt when she spotted Genevieve.
“Oh!” she gasped in surprise.
“You aren’t Cathy.”
“No. No I’m not,” Genevieve acknowledged, and she arched one eyebrow.
“Who are you supposed to be?”
The woman laughed and rubbed the back of her head sheepishly.
“Sorry about that. I’m Crystal. I’m a courier, and I’ve been delivering stuff for Vincent for months, so I’m pretty used to just coming and going.”
Genevieve relaxed slightly and smiled.
“I’m Genevieve. Think you could tell me what to expect with him?” She nodded her head towards the office door.
Crystal tipped her head to one side.
“You haven’t met him?”
“Nope,” Genevieve replied. “I was told to just get straight to work and to not interrupt him unless I had to.”
Crystal rolled her eyes emphatically. “Yeeeaaaaah, that’s not surprising,” she said.
“I mean, he’s not bad to work for. Tips well, and he’s fuckin’ gorgeous to look at, but he’s, uh. He’s a bit of a prick.” She rubbed the back of her head again.
“Pretty sure he’s had people tell him he’s a genius a few too many times. Just, uh, don’t tell him I said that.”
Genevieve held one hand up, as if to take an oath.
“I’m sworn to silence,” she replied.
“Thanks for the warning.”
Crystal waved cheerfully as she headed back to the elevator.
“Good luck with the job,” she said before the elevator door closed.
Genevieve sighed quietly. Just what she wanted to hear. Her boss was an ass. She had no time to dwell on it, though, as the phone rang again. Genevieve answered in promptly.
“Orbital Prime. You’ve reached the office of Vincent Grimoire. How may I direct your call?”
At least she wouldn’t need to worry about just sitting idle.
Genevieve was eating her lunch at her desk when the door to the office finally slid open and the esteemed Vincent Grimoire stepped out. He paused in the doorway and stared at her for a second, though Genevieve couldn’t gauge his expression behind his sunglasses.
Still, she used the moment as an opportunity to admire him. Crystal hadn’t been kidding when she said he was gorgeous to look at.
He had skin like bronze and short hair like the gold of a sky at sunset, and he made Genevieve look short. He wasn’t massive like a body builder, but each muscle seemed perfectly toned, like a gymnast, and his face could have been carved by a Roman sculptor.
He was impeccably dressed in a dark suit with amber accents, and the entire ensemble looked to have cost about as much as the computer Genevieve had been using for the whole day.
“Huh,” Vincent hummed.
“I almost thought you weren’t here.”
His accent was…something. Genevieve couldn’t figure out where it was from, as she had never heard one like it before, but it was most certainly an accent.
“You told me not to interrupt you,” Genevieve pointed out.
She decided not to say ‘who did you think had been channeling your calls all day?’ since that was probably just a
little
unprofessional and not the greatest way to make a first impression.
Vincent shrugged carelessly. “Well, yeah, but I didn’t actually expect you to listen.”
Genevieve barely managed to refrain from rolling her eyes and instead smiled politely.
“Surprise.”
Vincent hummed in acknowledgement.
“Genesis or something like that, right?” But he was already heading towards the elevator.
Before she could even say, “Genevieve, actually,” the elevator doors were closed.
She sighed slowly. What a brilliant start. The only way it could have been worse was if he had hit on her and actively insulted her.
There was no time to dwell on it, though. The elevator came back up and a middle-aged man stepped out.
“I have an appointment,” he informed her blandly.
“Name, please?” Genevieve requested.
The man sighed impatiently.
“Daniels, Robert,” he replied.
A quick look at the schedule filled Genevieve with dread. She plastered a smile into place.
“You’re almost a full two hours early, Mr. Daniels, and Mr. Grimoire is in a meeting with the board,” she said.
“You’re free to wait here, though, if you’d like, or you could leave and come back closer to the time of your meeting.”
A thunderous look crossed the man’s face, and he dropped down into a chair like a sulking toddler.
Genevieve tried to mentally prepare herself for a very long wait.