Friday, December 20, 2013

Weekend Wake-up Call – Clans of Kalquor 1: Alien Embrace

            As if given a signal, the men entered her quarters.  Before Amelia could back away, Rajhir swept her into his arms and engaged her mouth in a demanding kiss.  The hot wetness of possession brought all thought to a shuddering halt.  Her senses ignited.  Amelia trembled, overwhelmed by Rajhir’s strength and the sudden stab of desire.  It licked through her insides, throbbing with insistence.
            As the Kalquorian held her, eager hands pulled at her clothes.  Amelia was too engaged in the delicious kiss to immediately understand what was happening.  Her sweatpants were tugged off, leaving her in her panties.  Realization slowly began to dawn on her, but her reflexes still wouldn’t kick in.  That tongue in her mouth was stroking, twining, exploring, turning everything tilted and crazy.
            Rajhir's lips left hers.  As Amelia gasped for air, he loosened his grip on her just enough to allow Flencik to remove her shirt and bra.  Breft undressed Rajhir, peeling the Dramok’s formsuit off in an instant.
            Her shock at the unexpected caresses finally wore off enough for her to start a protest.  “Don't—”
            A very naked, very erect Rajhir stopped her with another penetrating kiss.  That submissive element in Amelia’s personality crumbled her will, refusing to allow her to resist the unspoken demands of the alien.  Her insides bubbled with overwhelming need, leaving her to fall limp against the clan leader.  He felt so warm, so strong, so good, so ... safe.  It made her knees buckle.
            Rajhir caught her up in his arms.  “Amelia,” he whispered.  “It is all right.  I have you.”
            He lifted her as if she weighed no more than a feather.  She tried to gather her scattered thoughts, to make some kind of attempt at maintaining her tarnished virtue.  “Rajhir,” she started.  “I can’t.”
            “Of course you can,” he whispered.  “I will make good for you.  This is promise.” 
            With that he carried her to the lounger, laying her down.  A tug at her panties and she was nude beneath him, feeling his burning hot flesh all over.  Her breasts flattened against the smooth skin of his chest as he covered her with his body.  His dual sex lay against her thigh, slick and ready.  As if answering a call only the most primitive part of her could hear, her legs drew apart, opening her to his pulsing hardness.  She arched against him, her traitorous body desperate for the relief only he could give.
            Her voice was still her own, however.  “But Earth says—”
            “No Earth here.  Only clan and Matara,” Rajhir said, his eyes hooded with a desire that made her insides spasm.  “Let me love you.”
            Amelia had no excuse this time, no drunkenness to hide behind.  Now it was only a desperate desire that robbed her of sense, that and her fear of authority.  Rajhir oozed absolute authority in spades.  Her will fled before it.
            Rajhir’s prodding fingers found Amelia wet, an overt invitation to enter.  He slid one in, then two.  He pumped her hard, his palm rubbing her clitoris, sending sparkles of effervescent delight through her belly.  She moaned and her thighs slid wider apart.  Warmth pulsed through her groin, melting the last bit of resistance left to her.

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