Page 9 of Alien Prince (Alien Abductions and Seductions #1)

Chapter Nine

Gemma

Somewhere between Ky’s possession and the battle of my own will, it hits me that I am out of my league.

I’ve prepared for this mission, spent my entire life training for it, even. I’ve fallen under a false sense of security that my mind is stronger than most, that it is simple to put up a wall against the royal parasites, but as I kissed that drunk asshole to prove my point that I was in control, Ky showed me who was really driving my meat suit.

I tried to resist his control, but in the moment, I was compromised. Emotional. I was weak, and his force was too strong. I felt like a puppet on a string, my movements dictated by some nebulous asshole. And when we finally arrive at one of the secluded sin pods, I know I am in trouble. The pods are reserved for the elite, those with deep pockets who can afford the exorbitant fees and the payoff to keep their activities hidden.

I’m not a stranger to the seedy alleys of Astronomica. Recruiting for the rebellion isn’t done in pretty little cafes and dining establishments, and half the place is practically crawling with criminals while the other half is composed of rebels like myself.

Like Raif…

No, you need to stop. Don’t go there, Gemini.

I try my hardest to maintain the invisible wall, but my body is hot, my mind a mess.

But all Ky does—or rather, all I do — is blink at the retinal scanner, and it opens immediately.

As I step inside the pod, a sense of dread washes over me. The rumors about these sin pods being where the darkest desires of the elite are carried out suddenly seems like a grim reality. I've never used a private sin pod before, being as I’m not rich or elite, and I certainly haven’t been propositioned to come back here.

Even if I would have, I’d likely deck a man bold enough to try and do so.

The fact that Ky has access to one is a gross yet intriguing revelation. The reality that he has been able to override my irises with his own for the retinal scanner to work is even more harrowing.

I am seriously out of my league, and I fucking hate him and everyone else for making me believe this mission would be simple.

Get in, get the intel, take down the pillars. One by one.

All I have to do is keep my head straight. But I am wrong. Dead wrong.

The door shuts with a resounding thud as the locks click into place and he speaks through our collective mouth, my voice laced with anger and a darkness that is foreign to me.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growls.

“You don’t get to play games with me, Ky, I was reminding you who’s really in charge, here,” I answer smugly, despite the fact I feel like it is a damn reach.

But he doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m not opposed to a good time, but that drunken blowhard isn’t even coherent enough to consent to a drink, let alone a fuck.” Ky says, clearly judging my target. Who knew the prince was so picky when it came to humans. It’s almost ironic, and I’d laugh, if I didn’t know what he was capable of—me being a prime example.

“Since when did you start caring about consent?” I shoot back. “You possess poor souls like me who end up stuck in your fucking closet. Use us to parade around like dolls so you can get your rocks off. And I don’t remember you asking nicely before you jumped into me.”

My words bite, but Ky isn’t angry. In fact, I can sense his emotion, his desire thick like a fog, like a hurricane brewing in the pit of my stomach.

And then it hits me like a thousand bricks.

Ky is jealous.

Jealous of Raif. Jealous of the nameless drunk man.

Because this isn’t a simple mission for him either.

The realization is unnerving, but I don’t have time to dwell on the desires of my parasitic inhabitant.

Suddenly the room heats like a sauna, warmth enveloping me like a wildfire. The intensity of Ky's jealousy is like standing in the middle of a blazing inferno, the heat so intense that it is suffocating. Every breath feels like I am inhaling fire, sweat beads on my forehead, collecting at the nape of my neck, running down my back. Ky's emotions are so strong, it is pure white hot rage.

“I do care about consent, e specially when it comes to my skins. Your body is a treasure. Not just to me, but—”

I can sense speaking the words is a fight for him, both because he wants to defend himself, but also because apparently I hit a fucking nerve.

My hand moves of its own accord, snaking up my shirt. I try to fight it, but it’s no use. I'm angry, confused, and upset...

There are too many emotions overwhelming me to grasp onto control and sanity as I'm burning up, my skin moist with sweat. My fingers graze over the taut skin of my neck, just below my jaw. Ky rests my hand just below my chin, my thumb and forefinger lacing a handheld necklace with just enough pressure that I know if he wanted to, he could strangle me, and there wouldn’t be anything I could do to stop him.

I can’t get a grip on my emotions, on my pain, and all the awful memories of training telling me I need to be stronger.

But Ky doesn’t make a move to tighten his grip or hurt me in any way. Instead, the touch feels possessive but somehow gentle. Loving, almost.

So parasites do have feelings. Who knew?

A flux of sensation pours through our shared bond, in the mutual space of our consciousness.

“You were made to do great things with this body, and you should not take it for granted,” Ky whispers to the air as I crane my neck away from myself, and it’s almost as if I can imagine him, his starry form brushing his stellar lips against my skin as I turn away.

Which is impossible, because we are one, at the moment. I am Kyron of Astronomica as much as I am myself. I hate the way my voice sounds when he speaks through me, but at the same time, I can’t deny the levity of his tone, or the way my body responds, knowing the impact of his words.

“I don’t take it for granted. And you’re right, I was made to do great things. But my body is not yours to control.” I snap back. I can’t stand the heat any longer, and for an instant, I have my control back. Ky is wounded by my words, I can feel it.

“Are you sure?” Ky growls. I can almost imagine his chilled kiss brushing against my neck, trying to tame my fire from the inside out. “Because your body is telling me something different right now.”

Heat emanates from my skin as Ky moves my hand to explore my body, leaving me trembling with something I refuse to accept—desire.

I can’t stand it any longer, and for a moment I regain enough control to remove my shirt as another wave of heat hits me, stepping out of my pants if only to get some fucking air.

“Why is it so fucking hot in here?” I ask, not meaning to show my discomfort.

“You fight too much, Mia . You quarrel with yourself as much as you do with me, and it's short-circuiting your inner mechanics.”

“I wasn’t asking you,” I snap back.

Ky ignores my tone, as he touts, “You are no longer entirely human. No one who makes it into my closet is. Your enhancements are new to you, so therefore you don’t know that you can overheat.”

“I’m not some fucking toaster, Ky. I’m—” My body betrays me, trembling as Ky's touch trails my hand up my stomach, a result of his control and my lack of. It ignites a fire within me that I can't ignore.

“Stop touching me like that,” I gasp, but even I hear the desperation and desire in my voice.

The heat that blossoms between my thighs is hotter than a lava pit. All the emotion running through me is too much.

The air on my skin isn't cool enough. I feel like I might explode from the temperature alone, but it’s the heightened physical awareness that is the most daunting. I try to push him back, to regain my self control but it’s no use. I’m slipping into hellfire and there’s nothing I can do except…

Fall.

Damn it!

He takes our hand, our fingers, and trails them lightly down between the crevice of my breasts. My bra is practically a second skin from the layer of sweat covering me, my heart racing as my hand slides down to rest just above my navel, and I arch my back, inviting him to explore further as muscle memory kicks in.

I’ve been here a thousand times, on the edge, waiting to be consumed.

I’ve just never been here with someone else riding shotgun.

I feel myself slipping under his control, under the heat. My body responds to his every touch and caress in ways I can't ignore.My fingertips feel good against my slick skin, like they always do, but somehow with Ky running captain, it’s so intense.

His desire and emotions ricochet inside of me, leaving me breathless and wanting more.

It's not just lustful; I might even say there's a caring undertone to his touch that makes me feel safe and desired all at once.

It's so fucking confusing. I try to move my hand away, accomplishing nothing more than writhing like a snake beneath my own fingertips.

“This doesn’t have to be a fight, Gemini. I can help you. I’ve dealt with overheating before, I can—” His voice is smooth, dark, and like velvet.

My body convulses and twists until I'm pinned against the far wall, desperate to expel him from my mind and body, desperate for the control I seek. The control I need.

Why couldn’t it be the other way around? Why could I not let him in when there was nothing and no one to interfere, and why can I not keep him out now?

Tears flow freely as I realize I don't have the will to do it. Not because I can't, but because I don't want to.

His absence, his offer for me to leave, is now a bitter memory. I longed to feel whole, and with him filling the void within me, I do.

But I hate that I need him and his star-filled spirit to make me feel this way.

I fight his control, his touch, as I twist away, my cheek resting against the metal, but it isn’t enough to cool me down.

I’m not supposed to want this. I’m not supposed to want the alien inside of me, but I know as I bang my fist on the wall, as my body flares with its own need, that I do, even if I can’t understand why .

Gemini, if you do not let me help you, you’ll overheat , he warns, his voice growing more impatient.

I press myself against the wall of the empty sin pod, screaming out in agony, fingernails screeching against the metal.

“And then what? I die? What happens to you? Do you go down with the ship?” I demand.

“Gemini, without you, I would be but a mere shadow, lost in the emptiness of space and time itself,” he replies, his voice operating my vocal chords heavily with emotion. It sends shivers down my spine.

And then it hits me. The intensity of our connection is overwhelming.The realization is just as painful as the throbbing ache between my legs.

I cry out in frustration as I bring my forehead to the wall, balling my fist.

“Isn’t that what you do, Ky? Take the bodies and souls of the unwilling until you’ve had your fill?” My voice shakes and I hate that I sound so weak.

Ky slides our hand back down my abdomen, fingers brushing the sides of my panties with a gentle touch that makes me crave release.

Crave our touch.

No.

I don’t want his help, I don’t want anything from him except to expose the truth, to hold the royals accountable for their sins.

But right now, I only want relief. Heat and pain overwhelm me, and my desperation wins out. My floodgates crumble, and I slide our hand the rest of the way, between my hot, slick folds. The touch is jarring, my fingertips cool against scorching skin.

“Maybe it's what I used to do, but it's not what I want. Not now…” Ky's voice purrs like a seductive whisper to my ears. Ky’s voice washes over me like a lullaby, and it’s hard to ignore. It’s strange to hear someone else use my voice, but I recognize it as my own. Somehow, it’s deeper, more refined, and evident that it’s not me speaking.

I let out a tortured sob, as my hand dips and stops just short of slipping into my soaked panties. But I’m also more than aware that I’m not truly alone, that I’m locked in some well-used sex den owned by the alien prince possessing me

How many women—or men, as I know from our internal link—has he brought here? How many people has he fucked while pretending to be someone else? How many bodies has he used for his own sexual gratification?

Ky uses my fingers to gently stroke my swollen clit, and the relief is monumental. It’s just a touch, a simple, soft touch, that is similar to my own, but somehow different, and it soothes me.

It makes the fire feel a little less intense, but it ignites the chase.

The chase towards the stars as I involuntarily rock my hips, grinding against my hand, is a bliss I’ve never known before and I know it is because neither one of us is fighting for control.

We’re both working together to alleviate the fury, trying to resist overheating. I know once I let go, once I stop fighting, the relief will come in more ways than one.

My fingers stroke and massage my swollen bud as Ky presses the edge of my nail against the sensitive bead of nerves, causing a fresh flood of ecstasy to pool in my core. My eyes flutter shut, my body strung like a tight harp.

It’s too hard to fight, and I know at this moment, fighting will only cause both of us harm.

I may want to dismantle the celestial inside of me, but fighting isn’t the mission. I need to let him in. I need him to trust me, so I can annihilate him from the inside out, but there is a spark deep in my belly that beckons to submit not because it is my mission, but because it feels good.

It’s not to say I trust him, but for the moment, I know if I am to make it through this, I need to let him guide me, because this…this is something he does with his skins. He knows how to quiet the overheat, and while it sickens me to think of him using some other skin, controlling their fingers and teasing their clit, a pang of guilty pride swells with my desire that they are not here, now, with him at the helm.

They are free of his control, of his ministrations, and I am grateful. For them and myself. My breath catches in my throat as Ky abandons my clit, taking my fingers once more and sliding them through my wet folds, stroking the inner walls of my sex like he is merely petting a cat.

The sensation is mind-numbing, and soon our free hand returns to my clit, while the other lazily, slowly, and torturously fingerfucks me.

“That’s it,” he says, his voice in the air like some cosmic spell.

Ky's voice is edged in something primal, something dark, as he speaks.

“You're so fucking hot when you're like this, Gemini. So needy, so desperate for me.” His words send a shiver down my spine, igniting the fire once again. “You need me.”

His words make my spine arch, my muscles tighten, and my brain turn to mush.

Several years of training pound in the back of my cerebellum, wanting to argue. To fight, to resist.

I don’t need anyone. I am a warrior, I am strong. Stronger than… this.

Aren’t I?

I want to speak, but the sensations of ecstasy and heat are overwhelming me, and I don’t know if I can speak coherently. It’s a fight to breathe, to not give in and become flame itself. Regaining a moment of control, I snap around and collapse against the wall as I arch my back, digging my heels into the foundation to ground myself.

Ky’s energy flutters with excitement, almost as if he is intrigued by my sudden force.

He takes advantage of the situation, the new angle, by driving our fingers in deeper, adding another until I’m fully stretched.

“I feel your desire, your lust, and it's like a beacon calling out to me. Calling me to take you, to make you mine in every way possible.”

The possessiveness in his voice is overwhelming, but I can't deny the way my body responds to it, my pussy clenching my own fingers like a vice. It’s not enough, and I know it. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to admit it.

“I could fuck you all night with your own hand, make you come until you can't take it anymore, drenched in your own juices, and you'd still be begging for more.”

The words alone send a rush of heat straight to my core, and I can't help but whimper at the intensity of it all. Maybe it’s the heat, or maybe it’s because of everything else converging on me at once. Maybe it’s because my training instilled in me a resistance that is more than training. It’s who I am. I never give in, never give up. But the lure of submitting to this demon hijacking my body is so fucking strong.

I quicken my pace, sliding a second finger inside of my own accord mindlessly, feeling the heat of my sex and the slick moisture dripping from the burning need, coating my thighs. My mechanical parts beneath my thigh tense and whir, the only sound in the pod our heavy breath mixed with the unmistakable hum of machinery.

The relief is more than noticeable as I rock my hips, grinding against my fingers, but it’s not nearly enough. I’m caught between pleasure and pain. It feels too damn good to stop, but it's also not fulfilling. I crave more, I need—

Ky takes control once more, stopping all thought as he slides in another finger, until I'm three deep, never relenting from stroking and flicking my swollen clit. The stretch is welcome, but it's not enough. I know it won't be enough because what I need isn't tangible, and Ky has made it very clear that we're not going to fuck anyone tonight.

Well, anyone but me.

My thoughts must penetrate his shared space, because a wave of possessiveness strikes me out of nowhere as he curls my fingers inside of me, stroking my inner walls viciously before pulling all three of them out without warning, leaving me aching, writing for the friction. I’m wet, I’m aching, and I feel like I might go mad with the need to come.

The word that falls out of my mouth is not my own, but somehow it is.

“Please…” I huff, trying to regain control of my hand, and it is more difficult than I know it should be.

“That’s right, my little Gemma . You are mine. You belong to me now.” His voice is edged in something cosmic, something magical. It’s like the universe speaks through him, through me, delivering this one undeniable truth. A part of me feels more than irritated that he can poke around in my brain beyond my control. Using a comfortable, familiar name shared among those I’m closest with, rather than the name I was born with. Like somehow it makes us closer, too. Which it doesn’t. It only signifies the truth that Kyron is dangerous and I need to be careful.

So why does him breathing my name like this make me feel as if I could explode into a galaxy of stars all on my own?

“Please,” I cry out as tears run down my face. I’m pleading with the monster inside me, my voice shaking, desperate for release and to be free from this insufferable heat. To feel the euphoria of his touch, to be broken into pieces by this creature of sin.

“Please, I’m begging you, I can't take it anymore—”

Just say the words, Gemini. Say them and I will give you what you want.

His voice in my psyche is like a black hole lullaby.

I’ve never wanted to give in so fucking badly in my life to anyone. Not even Raif.

Shakily, I move my hand. It doesn’t feel like mine, but rather that I am an inebriated puppet master, trying to hold on to the tangibility that is both mine and not mine at all at the moment.

My fingertips brush the edge of my slick folds, and if I was in my right mind, I’d be embarrassed about how fucking wet I am.

I’m soaked.

Ky’s voice returns, the black hole opening up further as he slowly takes control once more, slipping one finger inside my warm, moist heat.

Feel your deepest desires become a reality. I will give you everything you crave, and you can indulge in the pleasure of satisfying us as I watch in awe as you drench our fingers with your own sweet slick arousal, extinguishing the fire that consumes us both.

He’s playing with me both physically and mentally, using my body for his own pleasure as well as my own. I should be angry, not to mention I should be adding another tally onto Prince Kyron’s long laundry list of crimes.

But the slow, torturous touch only makes me needy. It only makes me long for the release on the horizon that I can’t bring myself to at this moment. Because I need him to work with me. Not against me.

“Please, Ky. Make it stop. Make me—” I don’t even get the words out of my mouth before I’m met with the sudden thrust, three fingers rushing in with a force that makes me see stars and elicits a deep groan from my chest. Once again, my fingers are coated in the hot, wet arousal that has taken over all sense of me, my being, and what I need.

Ky takes my other hand, sliding it up my abdomen, using my free fingers to pull at the fabric of my bra, releasing my breasts from their caged prison. The air on my hot skin is chilling, relieving, and causes my nipples to harden from the shock from the sudden drop in temperature. My cyborg parts whir and click as if they too feel the impending desire and need.

It doesn’t take long after that. The culmination of my orgasm is intense, more intense than any I’ve ever felt before, bone deep and reverberating through every part of me. My core throbs, gripping my fingers like a vice as I come hard and fast, the relief on my tongue like some sort of absolution I’ve never known.

And the relief that follows, the way my body temperature drops , cools down almost instantly, is jarring. Exhaustion replaces the relief, and the last thought I havebefore passing out, is this is it, this is how I die.

I’m so fucking doomed.