Taking Tilly (13 page)

He had mated with Tilly’s mouth. He
could argue all he wanted that it should not have mattered, should
not have affected him—she was not a Merkdar woman and could not
truly be mated with a Merkdar man, whether they were able to
reproduce or not—but the truth was, it had.

It had changed everything for
him.

Truthfully, he was fairly certain that
he would have mated with Tilly’s mouth even without the drug of the
berry, eventually, because it was something he had wanted to do
almost from the first, certainly from the time she had struggled so
hard to engulf his cock with her little mouth.

He could not imagine what there was
about that that had made him become obsessed with that stubborn
little mouth, made him want to form the mating bond, but he
suspected it was because she had the strength of heart to try to do
anything—even things she did not especially want to do or have the
ability to do. She would try.

He would never have admitted it to a
soul, but he thought that she was as brave and strong and good as
any Merkdar woman.

He was excited and frightened half to
death about having a child at the same time—excited because he
would have a purpose beyond mere survival, and frightened for
pretty much the same reason.

They had so little to offer another
generation—hardship. He did not want that for his child. He did not
want the fear that something would claim his child before it could
grow to an adult—a sickness they were unprepared for, an accident
or disaster. There were so many threats to the tiny and
weak.

He was afraid that she would bear a
son and the child would be deformed in the eyes of the Merkdar
because it would have only one penis like her people—perhaps not
even a sucker to pleasure his woman as the Merkdar had. Who knew?
He certainly had not examined the male of the species.

Could it be fixed if there was only
one penis? Or would the child have to live with the
deformity?

He shook the thought. He was not in
the habit of borrowing trouble. He could face what was in front of
him. He could not fight the ghosts of the past or the uncertain
future.

Was she far enough along, yet, for the
nanos to determine the sex, he wondered?

He decided he would go to her and
communicate with the suit—ask it if the sex was known yet and
double check the data to be certain the child truly was
his.

Not that it really mattered. It was
half Merkdar. That was what mattered.

She was sitting on her bunk with her
legs crossed when he entered, giving him a view of her
sex.

It was sufficient to clear his mind of
all other considerations. He had not touched her in more than a
week and he had grown accustomed to sinking his flesh into hers
several times a day.

He mentally commanded the suit to
arrange her into the position he most desired as he removed his
clothing, but discovered he was not in as much of a rush as he
generally was. Instead, he settled to study the delicate pink
petals of her cleft, lightly stroking the fragile skin.

His throat closed with thirst as he
did and he abruptly shifted downward to discover why it was that
Kane seemed almost to prefer to sample her flesh with his
mouth.

Her soft moans aroused him as he
sucked at her clit. Her taste excited him. Before he quite knew
what he was about, he was lathing and sucking at her flesh with a
feverish intensity to rival Kane’s and she’d begun to quake and cry
out. That inspired him to pull and suck harder still until she was
screaming and still he could not seem to get enough.

Eventually, he realized that he had to
imbed his flesh deeply inside of her to satisfy his craving and he
left off sucking at her nether lips and moved over her, staring
down at her rapturous expression for several moments before he
lowered himself and fitted his mouth to hers as he had
before.

Mistake, he thought, but he could not
resist. He explored her mouth as he had her sex until he could no
longer contain his eagerness and then he surged over her, pressed
his flesh to hers and relished the slow engulfing of his flesh by
hers as he pushed relentlessly against the resistance.

He was near to bursting by the time
he’d entered her fully—had driven as deeply inside of her as her
tiny body would allow—and then he withdrew slowly, struggling
against the urge to pound into her frantically to prolong the
experience.

He lost the battle, began to move
faster, to thrust harder, chasing the rapture that seemed just out
of his reach and then capturing it explosively, feeling a surge of
triumph that almost surpassed the bliss of expending
himself.

He rested a few moments, until he had
caught his breath, and then he pulled his fore-cock free of her
body and shoved his posterior cock into her. That time, since he
had taken the edge off of his desire, he was able to thrust into
her until she came once more and he could enjoy the feel of her sex
massaging his and bringing him to another violent
eruption.

Chapter Fifteen

Tilly was beginning to
conclude that nothing she thought she had learned and understood to
be facts where the alien giants were concerned actually
was
true.

She didn’t recognize any of the women
in the lounge. Not that she’d really gotten to know any of the
women who’d been taken when she had—or at least that she knew had
been taken at the same time. But she’d certainly seen them enough
to recognize the faces of most of them.

In any case, she knew positively that
they had been sold on the auction block just as she had.

Of course, they had stolen her back
and could just as easily have done the same with the others, but
there was still the faces ….

So had these women she didn’t
recognize been taken at the same time, she wondered? Or was it
possible the ship could travel much faster than she’d
realized?

Maybe they’d taken the
long, slow route to the planet where they’d been sold so
that
they
would
have time to train them to their new status?

She was thinking that must have been
the case.

Of course, the women had no idea how
long they’d been in the ship—there were no clocks to tell them, no
sunrises or sunsets. Only the meals they were fed—and they had no
idea whether they were fed once a day or twice or three
times.

Then there was the fact that she knew
positively that she’d been kept in status for prolonged periods.
These women might have been collected at the same time and kept
that way until the men were ready to ‘train’ them.

She was unhappily aware, though, that
the aliens might actually have returned to Earth to collect
more—that she might well have been close to home and she hadn’t
even caught so much of a glimpse.

It made her unhappy to think
so.

And unfortunately, she’d had little in
the way of distraction since the aliens had stolen her back from
the cat-man.

Either they just had their hands full
‘training’ the new group or they’d tired of her.

Days
passed when not even one of them came into her cell to fuck
her.

She thought she would rather have had
her fingernails torn out at the roots than to admit it, but she
missed the training. She missed never knowing if she would be
allowed to come or not—being forced to come until she thought she
would lose her mind.

Having it withheld while they fucked
her nearly unconscious over and over until she felt like clawing
her skin off she was so wound up.

Now she felt like that simply because
she’d been ignored and, she supposed, she’d grown so used to being
fucked that deprivation was enough to torment her.

Or maybe this was a new phase in the
training, she wondered?

Almost on that thought, she heard the
thud of the men’s boots as they strode down the corridor toward the
lounge. Unlike the other women, who looked terrified, however, she
felt her heart pound in sync to the rhythm of their stride, felt
her belly flutter with anticipation.

She turned to look with all of the
others when the men came to a halt at the entrance.

The commander looked her dead in the
eyes.

Her heart seemed to jar to a halt in
her chest.

The second strode toward her.
“Come.”

She thought she was going to right
then and there.

She desperately hoped they would allow
her to come!

She rose but wasn’t surprised when
there were no further verbal commands.

The nano-suit carried her to a mound
of pillows, settled her, arranged her for his pleasure.

Her heart was pounding so hard when he
dropped to his knees she thought she would pass out.

He cupped her hips and lifted her
higher, bringing her sex to his mouth and latching onto her clit
with a vigor that almost finished her descent into darkness. Her
body, already humming with anticipation, leapt, caught fire, raced
upwards to the pinnacle to pitch her off.

She didn’t know whether to be more
excited or deeply dismayed when she reached the peak and was held
there, trembling, desperate to take the final leap.

She’d forgotten how unbearable it was,
she thought wildly. She’d forgotten how torturous it felt to feel
the delicious pull of his mouth on her ultra sensitive flesh and be
prevented from expending the energy building and building inside of
her.

Abruptly, he released the hold and
allowed her to take the plunge. It hit her so hard she cried out
and then sucked in a quick breath when the spasms only increased in
intensity and uttered a sharper cry until she was
screaming.

He didn’t slow down or allow her any
respite until she’d screamed herself hoarse and hyperventilated so
that she was almost in a stupor.

Finally, however, he lowered her hips
to the pillows and rose.

Tilly managed to catch her breath
somewhat as the commander positioned himself, aligned his cock with
the mouth of her sex, caught her hips to prevent her escape, and
impaled her on the head of his spear. She should have been awash
with lubrication, but apparently the second had sucked it all up
because the commander had to pry her onto his cock by inches,
scouring her flesh from the mouth of her sex to the bottom of the
throat.

Moisture flooded the channel as he
withdrew and the second thrust was easier and the next easier than
that, her body lubricating her channel and easing his passage with
each thrust and retreat until he was pummeling her with his
cock.

She hadn’t really touched down from
the devastating climax the second had given her. Her body responded
to the commander’s thrusts as if she’d merely enjoyed heavy
foreplay to prepare her rather than coming so hard she’d almost
passed out. She found herself racing toward release almost as soon
as he plumbed her depths with the first thrust, teetering on the
edge by the time he’d set the pace.

She couldn’t achieve it. The suit
prevented the release, held her on the edge while the tension built
toward meltdown and then abruptly released her when the commander
reached his crisis. It hit her like an atom bomb, so explosively
she screamed hoarsely.

Under ordinary circumstances she
would’ve been lucky to even have one climax—and at that it wouldn’t
have compared to the most minor she’d experienced with the aliens.
It never failed to amaze and unnerve her that they could blow her
mind with one climax after another. Every time she experienced a
hard, prolonged climax that left her barely conscious she was
convinced they couldn’t make her come again.

And that thought crossed her mind when
the commander withdrew and allowed the second to take his
place—she’d come twice. They’d already wrung every ounce of bliss
from her that there was to be had.

She didn’t think she could endure
another one like the two she’d already had anyway.

But the second drove into her until he
carried her up the mountain again and flew off and
exploded.

And then the third settled between her
thighs and fucked her until she came a fourth time and lost
consciousness.

She came around when the fourth
speared on his thick phallus and began his ride, passed out when
she came and then roused for the finale.

She was always as grateful to see the
last as she was excited to see the first, she thought dimly as she
was allowed, at last, to sink into oblivion.

Emily was sitting beside her on the
pillows when she came around. “He’s sweet on you,” she said
conversationally. “Actually, I’m pretty sure his second in command
is sweet on you, too.”

Tilly blinked at her
uncomprehendingly, struggling with uneasiness. Emily had spat on
her when they’d ‘rescued’ her from the cat-man and told her she
hated her and she should watch her back. She hadn’t seen much of
her since that time—hadn’t seen her at all for what seemed like
weeks, but mostly Emily had kept her distance and either glared at
her balefully or pretended she didn’t exist.