Page 36 of Songbird
A raw, primal wildness surged through me, overtaking my senses as I rolled us over with fervent urgency. Izzy lay beneath me, her eyes wide with anticipation. I thrust into her with an intense, untamed passion that seemed to echo the wildness of space itself.
A deep cry erupted from her throat, resonating with raw intensity as she shattered in ecstasy. Her inner muscles contracted powerfully around me, creating a rhythmic, pulsating grip that seemed to draw every ounce of pleasure from me.
I groaned deeply, my hips faltering and movements turning ragged as I followed her over the edge, my release surging into her in a hot, explosive wave. I rolled to my side, gently pulling her with me, maintaining our intimate connection, unwilling to part from her just yet. I nestled my face into the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply the unique blend of floral and spicy that was unmistakably Izzy, a scent that seemed to envelop me in its warmth.
A sigh of utter contentment escaped her lips, the most beautiful of melodies.
We clung to each other, our bodies slick with a glistening sheen of sweat, yet still shivering from the lingering aftershocks that coursed through us. Our hearts pounded in unison, a rhythmic drumbeat echoing in the silence as if speaking a language only they understood.
“That was exactly what I needed,” Izzy sighed, nestling against me. Her cheek rested above where my heart hammered, tendrils of her golden hair falling over my chest in a silky caress.
My arm lay possessively around her waist, holding her close, while my tail remained wrapped around her ankle, its tufted tip gently stroking along the smooth curve of her calves. After years of wandering across the vast expanse of the universe, constantly donning the guise of someone different with every soul I encountered, never lingering in one place for more than a fleeting moment, it felt as though I had finally discovered my way home.
Epilogue
Aliens didn’t celebrate Christmas. Instead, they had a gathering known asDathliad, which took place a few times a year. Families would come together and indulge in an extravagant feast and eat like starving beasts. But hey, us Earth girls would take what we could get.
We congregated at Jala and Praxxan’s apartment. Siemba, Praxxan, and Tarrick, their resemblance undeniable, with matching golden pelts and leonine features. Only the hints of gray sprinkled throughout Siemba’s mane revealed him as eldest of the siblings. And then there was Jala’s brother Jutuk, a Vaktaire with broad shoulders and his sister’s startling golden and cobalt blue eyes. Of course, his mate Pearl was also present, making my stomach grumble in anticipation of her delicious cooking.
While the males followed Jala to the kitchen, no doubt eager to sample the upcoming feast as well, we females reclined in the living room, sipping exotic alien aperitifs, the sweet, fizzy flavor dancing on my tongue. As with every time humans got together, the talk invariably turned to, “So, how were you abducted?”
“I was just a plain old abductee. Not a treasure like you two.” Pearl laughed. She sat at the end of the furred sofa, her dark hair curling about her shoulders. Her hand laid on her stomach, not quite protectively, but enough that I noticed aslight roundness. I didn’t mention it. She might be pregnant, but she also might be a chef who enjoyed sampling the cooking. I didn’t want to risk a faux pas.
Treasures were people abducted specifically and notjust the first one I can get my hands ontechnique many alien slavers employed. Praxxan learned from his interrogation of Kayzon’s guards that he’d seen me sing on a bootlegged Earth video, became obsessed, and had me abducted.
“You were a treasure, too?” I asked Dixa, Seimba’s mate, who sat in a nearby chair. Certainly, she was beautiful enough to be considered a treasure. Still, from what I’d learned, usually only celebrities, actors and musicians, suffered the fixation and subsequent abduction by alien collectors. I’d heard Elvis was alive and well somewhere in the cosmos.
Pearl cleared her throat, a sound that was more laugh than anything, and leaned toward where I sat on the other end of the sofa, though her voice was far from a whisper. “Dixa was known by another name on Earth.” She cut her gaze to the lady in question, her smile broadening. “Marilyn Monroe.”
Holy shit!
Now that Pearl mentioned it, I noticed Dixa’s resemblance to the legendary screen goddess. But there was no sign of the tragic actress in the happy, contended woman sitting before me.
“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t recognize....”
Laughing, Dixa held up her hand, stopping my verbal vomit of apology. “Oh, honey, don’t worry about it. It’s not who I am anymore. Not at all.”
I knew exactly what she meant. I was different, too. I was no longer the woman who used to take the stage with a heavy heart, feeling like an imposter and singing songs not for joy but purely for profit. Now, every note that escaped my lips was a genuine expression of my soul, a reflection of the boundlesshappiness and deep love I found with Tarrick. I wouldn’t go back to my old life if they paid me.
“Anybody hungry?” Jala swept in from the kitchen, carrying a tray and swatting at the hands of the males hovering around her, trying to snatch a bite.
All three Asad brothers were striking examples of what it meant to be male, but Tarrick was, at least to me, a cut above. After the battle with Kayzon, he’d shed his loose-fitting robes and padded jackets for the more form-fitting leather garments preferred by his brothers. The material hugged his body, emphasizing every muscle, adding to his already impressive presence—a vision of strength and power. He was a truly gorgeous specimen of maleness. And mine, all mine.
“You really don’t think what happened with Kayzon will hinder Tarrick’s work as an operative?” Jutuk, Pearl’s mate, sat beside her, cradling the appetizer he’d snagged, which suspiciously resembled pigs in a blanket.
“On the contrary.” Siemba juggled his own handful of meat and bread as he sat on the arm of Dixa’s chair. “I think it will serve to make Tarrick even more effective.”
“There’s no better story than a former playboy who changed his life for the woman he loves,” Pearl grinned at me, raising her glass of fizzy pink something in a toast.
“Hear, hear.” Dixa agreed.
As for myself, I only smiled, knowing the truth of that statement, and raised a glass.
Siemba took a bite of the appetizer, frowned for a minute, and then shoved the whole thing into his mouth. “I’ve already arranged for Izzy to go on tour singing. It will be the perfect cover,” he announced after a swallow.
Tarrick sank onto the sofa next to me, his arm going around my shoulders as his other hand juggled a mug of Verdesian ale. “Already, the upcoming concert series has gainedus access to several places previously off limits... even to my playboy persona.”
“Is that safe? There are still a lot of places where being a human is very dangerous,” Jutuk worried. He was so sweet to Pearl, making sure she was comfortable and feeding her bites of food. The way he treated her made me think my speculation that Pearl might be pregnant was correct.
