Submitting to the Shadow: Kindred Tales 27 Page 11

  “Yes, Sir,” Sammi whispered, not even knowing what she was saying. “I…I’ll try.”

  “Good girl,” Roark growled softly, sending a shiver of pure desire down her spine. He held her gaze with his own, his pale eyes blazing. “Such a good girl to spread your legs and let me lick your soft little pussy, Samantha.”

  His dirty words turned her on as much as the slow, languorous licks which started at the entrance to her sex and ended at the top of her slit, bathing her inner folds and throbbing clit along the way with each slow lap.

  He didn’t try to stop Sammi from carding her hands through his hair, either. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it because he stopped several times to turn his head and press a soft kiss to the center of her palms as she caressed him.

  “Oh…Oh, Roark,” she whispered brokenly as he licked her. She was close…so damn close—and yet somehow, the big Kindred managed to keep her from coming. He just kept lapping gently—too gently to bring her to orgasm though he certainly gave her an extremely thorough tongue bath.

  As he lapped her, Roark tested her wetness by thrusting two long fingers deep in her trembling pussy. He stroked gently in and out while he tasted her inner folds, cleaning away the bonding fruit ointment and licking her juices.

  “Oh Roark, yes…oh, yes!” Sammi moaned. She wanted to buck her hips up to meet his tongue and ride it, as he had suggested she might if he hadn’t strapped her down, but of course she couldn’t. But even though she couldn’t move as she wanted to, the fact that she was restrained only heightened her desire.

  The sensation of being tasted as well as being fucked with his long fingers was almost too much for her and she nearly came more than once, but again, Roark somehow knew when she was right on the edge and stopped just before she reached it.

  By the time he was done with her, Sammi was trembling from head to toe and distressed little cries were leaving her lips. She was begging and moaning, praying that Roark would let her come, shameless in her need.

  But none of it did her a bit of good. Once Roark was satisfied that all the bonding fruit ointment was removed, he put on a fresh coat, dabbing it lightly with his fingers so as not to push her over the edge, and then replaced the damn Goddess shield and told her she was finished.

  “Get dressed, Samantha,” he ordered, his eyes gleaming. “It’s time to get to work for the day now that we’ve collected our morning data.”

  Sammi couldn’t help feeling disappointed. Rather than suddenly becoming addicted to the taste of her pussy, as Berik had become addicted to Meg’s, her boss just wanted her to get straight back to work, even after the incredibly erotic encounter they had just shared.

  “How can you expect me to work under these conditions?” she complained, frowning at him. “I can barely think straight, I’m so sexually on edge!”

  “On edge is precisely where I want you to be, Samantha.” Roark shot her a level glance. “Don’t despair, though. In three more days you should be ovulating and we can finish out experiment.”

  “Three more days?” Sammi exclaimed as she pulled her panties up over her aching pussy. “But that’s Saturday—I was going to go back down to Earth and get the rest of my stuff that day.”

  “Back to Earth?” Roark frowned at her. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “Well, I don’t either,” Sammi admitted. “But I have to go.”

  Though she had never told her boss about the man who had been stalking her, she still felt nervous about going down to get her things herself. But Berik’s mission had been extended so there was no way he could go for the rest of Sammi’s possessions and she really needed them.

  She told herself everything would be all right—there were just a few boxes left and she would go in the daytime and only spend about an hour loading up the boxes and then leave for good. But it still made her nervous to think of being in the house alone without knowing if he was watching her or not.

  Maybe I should put it off again…

  But no—she couldn’t wait forever to get her things. She had already extended the lease on the small single-story bungalow she was renting in South Tampa once and she couldn’t afford to extend it again just to store boxes. That was ridiculous.

  She’d thought about asking her favorite aunt to bring the boxes to her own house, but she still had kids at home and lived in a constant clutter as it was—she didn’t need a bunch of Sammi’s stuff clogging up her house. She—

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “What?” Sammi looked up. Roark’s words surprised her so much she froze in the middle of fastening her skirt.

  “I said, I’ll come with you,” he told her. “We can get your things from Earth and bring them back up to the Mother Ship in the morning, and then perform the experiment that evening.”

  “Oh…” Sammi’s heart fluttered, though she knew he was probably only offering to help in order to keep the experiment on schedule. “If…if you really don’t mind,” she said. “I mean, there’s going to be a lot of heavy lifting, I’m afraid. Some of the things I’m getting are boxes of books—the old-fashioned kind, made of paper, you know.”

  Roark nodded.

  “All the more reason for me to come. I don’t want you overexerting yourself and getting too tired to fully engage when I strap you into the inseminator.”

  “All right.” Sammi nodded. “Have you ever been to Earth before?” she asked curiously.

  “Once,” Roark said shortly. “To meet Amanda’s family—my ex-fiancée.” He cleared his throat. “It was not a warm welcome.”

  “Why not?” Sammi asked, surprised into being curious.

  “There was some…prejudice against my kind,” Roark explained stiffly. “Amanda’s father and brother weren’t very happy with the idea of her joining with an ‘alien.’”

  “What jerks!” Sammi exclaimed.

  Roark shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling under his crisp white lab coat.

  “It didn’t matter in the long run, since we didn’t remain together.”

  Sammi started to tell him that her own family wasn’t like that—that her aunts and uncles and cousins would welcome him into the family with open arms…But then she remembered yet again that Roark wasn’t looking to form a relationship with her.

  She was just an experiment to him and that was how he wanted things to stay.

  The thought gave her a heavy heart as she finished dressing and went back to the main office part of the lab to try and concentrate on the files of data she was trying to consolidate. But she reminded herself for the thousandth time that Roark was only her boss—not really her lover.

  No matter what erotic things they did together, it was all for science and nothing more.

  Twenty-Six

  Gods…Roark licked his lips again, remembering Samantha’s sweet, salty flavor and the soft, helpless way she’d moaned and carded her fingers through his hair as he licked her…

  How he had longed to make her come! And then to stand up and press not his tongue or his fingers, but his cock deep into her tight little pussy channel. He would take her—own her…bond her!

  It was this last thought that kept him from doing something extremely foolish. Beause he couldn’t bond her to him—couldn’t give her the children she wanted. It was hopeless—impossible.

  And so Roark held himself back. No matter how badly he wanted Samantha for his own, he knew he could never have her.

  Twenty-Seven

  The boxes were almost all loaded in his shuttle when Roark saw the folded piece of paper on the kitchen counter. They had been working together all morning, getting the last of Samantha’s things packed for her permanent move to the Mother Ship and now they were almost done.

  He had picked her up at the door to her suite that morning and greeted her with a slow, passionate kiss. When he’d let her go, Sammi had whispered breathlessly,

  “I thought you only did that on workdays?”

  Roark had replied something about how he had to keep h
er sexually amorous in order to get her ready for the experiment that night.

  The truth was, though, he had simply wanted to kiss her. The same way he wanted to help her move—to act like what the humans called a “normal boyfriend” and lift the boxes that were too heavy for her and just generally be near her all day.

  They flew down to Earth and got to work. To Roark, it almost felt as though they were a couple—part of a team—two halves of a whole. It was what he had always longed for, in his deepest heart, though he tried not to admit it. Against his will, he had found himself wondering if Samantha might consider having a relationship without being bonded. And was it really so important to her to have children? Hadn’t she said something about adopting if you couldn’t have children of your own?

  The thoughts were foolish but Roark couldn’t seem to push them out of his head. He was thinking them when he saw the paper on the counter.

  Curious as to its contents, he opened it and saw a note printed in slashing, masculine handwriting.

  Hey, Beautiful, where have you been lately? I’ve looked for you everywhere, but I can’t find you. I really miss you—I’m hoping you come home soon so we can go on that date I’ve been promising you.

  The note wasn’t signed, but Roark could guess that it must have been left there by an old lover—or maybe a new one, who was eager to have Samantha to himself.

  Though he knew he had no right to be possessive, he couldn’t help the surge of jealousy that rushed through him. Crumpling the note in his fist, he went to find Samantha, who was putting the last of a series of delicate knick knacks in a large cardboard box.

  She was dressed in the blue denim trousers humans called “jeans” and a mint green t-shirt that day, which brought out her green eyes. The points of her nipples were clear underneath it. Roark had removed the nipple caps that morning before they left for Earth, deciding that the feeling of the soft t-shirt material rubbing against her sensitive peaks would be stimulating enough. He had kept the clit shield on though because he liked stimulating her when she least expected it. Her long strawberry blonde hair was put up in a messy bun at the back of her neck and there was a smudge of dust on her forehead.

  The picture she painted was one of endearing domesticity, which only made Roark angrier because it represented everything he had ever wanted…and could never have.

  She was holding a little china doll in one hand when he stalked up to her.

  “Do you care to explain this?” he barked, uncrumpling the paper and thrusting it out to her. “I found it on the counter of your food prep area.”

  Samantha’s green eyes widened as she read the note. The china doll dropped from her hand and the head of it shattered against the hardwood floor.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered unsteadily. “You say you found it on the kitchen counter?”

  “Yes, I did.” Roark glared at her. “You told me you were ‘single’ when I offered you the job as my assistant. Did you lie to me, Samantha?”

  “No…no!” She shook her head wildly. “This is just…” She shook her head and cleared her throat. “Look, never mind about this. It’s over now, okay?”

  “How long has it been ‘over’ though?” Roark demanded. “Was this person—this male—still in contact with you after I hired you?”

  “No, okay?” Samantha snapped. She ran a hand though her hair distractedly and half of it came down from the loose bun it was in, making her look messy and stressed. “He couldn’t find me once I left for the Mother Ship and I hope to never have to deal with him again!’

  Turning on her heel, she left the room, the soles of her little white sneakers crunching on the shattered fragments of the delicate china doll’s head.

  Twenty-Eight

  Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God…

  Sammi paced around the room which had once been her bedroom, feeling sick to her stomach. So he had broken in again—her anonymous stalker had been in her house sometime after she had left for the Mother Ship. And he had left her another one of his little “love notes.”

  As always, the thought of a stranger who meant her harm standing in the place where she lived—or where she used to live anyway—made her feel cold and frightened.

  She—

  All at once the door slammed open and Roark stalked in. His pale eyes were fierce and he somehow seemed even bigger and more muscular than usual.

  “Samantha, I don’t care who this other male is,” he announced, glaring down at her. “He cannot have you—you’re mine.”

  “What?” Sammi’s heart started pounding for a different reason. Was Roark finally going to Claim her? Was he going to demand that she join with him, the way Berik had told Meg they had to be together because he was addicted to her and needed to taste her every day?

  “I said, you’re mine,” Roark repeated. “I need you for…for my experiment. For my research.”

  “Oh…” Sammi’s heart plummeted. “For your research. Right.”

  “Speaking of which, let’s see how ready you are for your ride in the inseminator.”

  Roark crossed the room in two long strides and ripped up her shirt.

  “Hey!” Sammi gasped as he examined her nipples which were tight and pink from rubbing against her t-shirt all day. “I don’t think—”

  “Mine,” Roark breathed again and then he was kissing her—kissing her deeply and possessively as he gently cupped the curve of one breast through the black straps of the breast harness. Despite his fiery kiss, the way he touched her was tender—almost reverent—and it melted something deep inside Sammi.

  She found she was pressing against him and kissing him back, opening her mouth to welcome him in.

  “Oh, Roark…” she breathed softly when he broke the kiss and dropped to his knees before her. “Please…”

  “Have to test your sensitivity,” he murmured and then he was sucking her aching peaks, taking her nipples deeply into his hot mouth as Sammi moaned and carded her fingers through his thick, black hair.

  Then his hands were on the button of her jeans and suddenly both jeans and panties were down around her ankles.

  “Oh!” Sammi gasped as he pushed her backwards until she fell back on the mattress, which had been stripped and was now bare on the bed frame. She’d made arrangements to leave most of her furniture here, since her suite on the Mother Ship was furnished much more nicely than she could afford on her own. Now she was glad the bed had been one of the things she’d agreed to leave, since she was lying on it half naked with the big Kindred between her legs.

  “Take these ridiculous things off,” Roark growled, tugging her jeans and panties out of the way.

  Sammi moaned as he spread her thighs with his broad shoulders and her pussy lips with his long fingers. The little black half-sphere of the clit shield was still in place but it was clear how hot she was from the way her pussy was wet and swollen with need.

  “Roark, please!” she moaned. “What are you doing?”

  “Checking your wetness,” he growled. “Seeing if you’re ready to be fucked.” He slid two long fingers deep into her hungry depths and Sammi gasped and writhed against him, her clit throbbing under the little black shield.

  “Please!” she gasped. “Oh, please Roark!”

  Without warning, he pulled the black remote out of his pocket. Pointing it at her, he pressed a button.

  All that morning the clit shield had been teasing her gently—the slow, patient lapping that kept her stimulated but didn’t actually make her crazy or bring her to orgasm. Now its intensity jumped from a one to a ten in an instant.

  “Oh!” Sammi’s hips bucked involuntarily and she cried out from the sudden stimulation. “Oh, Roark, what are you doing?” she gasped.

  Roark made no answer except to remove his fingers and replace them with his tongue. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and buried his face between her legs, his warm, wet tongue penetrating her to the core as he fucked into her as deeply as he could.

  Sammi moaned and wr
ithed against his hot mouth. She kept feeling like she was going to come at any instant but the damn clit shield kept changing patterns, vibrating her intensely for a moment and then gently lapping and then nothing at all for a few seconds just as she was right on the edge. It kept her from reaching orgasm while pushing her so hard she thought she would die if she couldn’t come. And all the while, Roark kept tongue-fucking her, lapping at her honey greedily as he pressed deep into her quivering pussy.

  At last he drew back, his mouth and chin wet with her juices and his eyes still blazing.

  “Roark…Roark I can’t stand this anymore!” Sammi begged brokenly. She hardly knew what she was saying—she only knew she needed to come so badly she felt like she was going to go crazy if she didn’t reach orgasm soon. “Oh please…please fuck me!”

  He gave a short, sharp nod, as though to himself.

  “Yes,” he said. “You’re ready.”

  He stood up abruptly, staring down at her. His chest was heaving as though he’d just run a marathon and the bulge in his trousers was evident—clearly he was as turned on as she was, Sammi thought distractedly.

  “Roark—” she began.

  “Get up and get dressed,” he ordered, frowning at her. “I’ll bring the rest of your things to the shuttle. We’re going straight back up to the Mother Ship to strap you into the inseminator. It’s time—you’re ready to be fucked.”

  Twenty-Nine

  Sammi didn’t know what she had expected the prototype of the machine he’d been telling her about for so long to look like. But it certainly was nothing like what appeared when Roark finally unlocked the door to the very last room in his lab—all the way in the back—and showed it to her.

  The inseminator was an intimidating device—made of thick black metal that curved down from the ceiling. It was centered over a lighted table, like his worktable, only this one was completely bare.