Alien Best Man Read online

  I was led into a hall that could easily accommodate several of Kyra’s space gliders.

  People were sitting at tables, eating and drinking, and if there was music, I didn’t hear it over the loud chatter of Dezrian voices. It was easy spotting Qay, who was sitting alone at a large banquet-style table. Behind him, an opaque curtain sectioned off the space like a room divider.

  I caught his gaze, and my heart lifted when he broke into a smile so heartfelt and sincere all my fears and doubts dissolved.

  When I walked toward Qay, there was an increase of noise, however subtle. I stood out from the crowd like a bloody thumb. Everyone was dressed in shades of gray and white and soft yellow, whereas my dress was like a beacon of fire. Even Qay was dressed in gray, wide-cut pants and a vest that showed off his broad chest. His bare arms bulged with muscles as he placed his hands on the table and stood up, his skin shimmering in copper-golden tones.

  “How was your first night on Dezra?” he asked, taking my hand.

  “I didn’t expect to be all alone.” Torn between falling around his neck and jumping him, I took the less hyper option and settled down at the table.

  Qay laughed, patting my thigh. “It won’t happen again, I promise. But the first night is traditionally a night the bride has to spend alone to reflect.”

  “Someone should have told me.” My gaze fell on Kyra, who was seated at a table not far away, seemingly unharmed and communicating with a couple of Dezrians. I waved, satisfied when she waved back.

  I opened my mouth as Qay held something to my lips while his hand slipped beneath my dress to settle on my bare thigh. A burst of sweetness exploded on my tongue. “This is good,” I said, licking my lips for more. “Native fruit?”

  “Yes, we will start trading it soon.”

  I accepted another piece of the syrupy yellowish fruit, starting to really enjoy myself. “What’s behind there?” I asked, pointing to the curtain.

  “Our bed,” he said, sounding so at ease, I first wondered if I’d misheard him. “This is where you’ll spend your second night.”

  “Our bed,” I replied, sure that I’d misunderstood. “How do you mean?”

  “Jana,” he said, pushing another piece of fruit into my mouth as if bribing me, “the people of Dezra have the right to witness their leader taking his wife. It’s tradition.”

  “While we are in bed?”

  “While we are in fact in the same room as anyone else, there won’t be any need to open the curtain. See, we tried to appease my Earth-born wife’s sensibilities. The curtain is only for your benefit. If you wish, we can remove it though.”

  “It’s fine like it is. Fine.” I laughed because my nerves got the better of me.

  Qay winked at me, his hand sliding even higher up my thigh. I drowned in his gray gaze until his touch on my leg became more insistent, his fingers massaging my inner thigh, and I felt myself becoming aroused by the gentle yet alluring movement. I squirmed on the chair, shot a look around as he lightly touched my clit through the sheer panties. I was seduced by my handsome fiancé while no one seemed to mind one bit. Maybe another tradition. I bit on my lip to keep from grinning.

  I inched closer, rubbing my shoulder against him, and placed my hand on his thigh.

  “I missed you so much,” I whispered in his ear, stroking his leg from his knee up to his groin. I slipped my hand to the inside of his thigh, moved my hand up, found him hard.

  “Can we use the bed behind this handy curtain now?” Whatever Qay answered, it was drowned out by a loud bang as a set of wide doors flew open at the other end of the hall.

  A gust of hot wind swept into my face. The chatter around me ceased as a man strode into the hall, but he was still too far away to make out his features. He held a leash in his hand and I rose to my feet as I saw what was on the end of that leash. A big, snarling cat that looked ready to kill whatever had the misfortune to stumble in its path.

  Next to me, Qay gave a weary sigh. “Ah, there he is. You can count on him to stick to the most primitive of traditions.”

  “Who is that?” I asked, squinting.

  “Our best man.”

  Even from a distance, I could see that he was tall for Qay’s people, dressed in loose-fitting pants, his chest bare. If I didn’t know better, then—

  My gasp came out hoarse and I stifled the next one with my hand.

  I grasped around the edge of the table, ignoring that Qay spoke to me in a soothing voice, but I failed to comprehend the meaning. All I knew was that the man holding the leash of the large cat stared at me out of hard, almost black, terribly familiar eyes.

  He fell to one knee before the table, but his head was lifted, meeting my gaze square-on. “As it is tradition, I brought you a gift.” He held out the leash.

  My knuckles turned white around the table.

  He was still on one knee, his outstretched hand holding the leash. Looking at him, looking into his demanding dark gaze made my knees weak and my body limp. All the nights I had woken up with nightmares, all the nights I had woken up, writhing with shame and fear and lust. As many times as I’d dreamed about how I had turned him down, as many times I’d dreamed about giving him what he wanted. Giving him myself.

  Qay gave me a nudge. “Take the cat.”

  As if on autopilot, I pushed up from my seat and walked around the table toward Zyn. Looking thoroughly pissed, the cat was a shade of midnight blue with even darker stripes.

  Zyn rose to his feet, towered over me as he gazed at me with his intense eyes. I took the leash from his outstretched hand. Something reached out to me and wrapped around my body. Like a hot whip. It prodded, pushed, and I shivered hard, my cunt clenching and unclenching in sudden need. It was as if a dozen hands stroked my body all at once. Something was sliding along my skin, sharp and hot and lethal, like a knife.

  A whimper shot from my mouth. My breath becoming oddly ragged, I turned on my heel and fled through the curtain behind the table.

  Shielded from view, I collapsed on one of three chairs surrounding a decked-out table. The dark-tinted curtain dimmed the light, but that the table was set for three didn’t escape me. Feeling cornered didn’t even begin to describe my emotions. Too late, I noticed that I had tugged a snarling wild cat along. I let the leash drop, swallowing a shriek. The animal paced the expanse of the space, jumped on the huge bed. I looked at the rich red sheets and all I could think of was blood.

  “Jana, let’s talk.”

  Qay’s calm voice came from behind me, but I didn’t look up to meet his gaze.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I said, a feeling of betrayal rising fast within me. “And who is he? I thought he was the chief negotiator, but that’s not it, is it?” Qay had said the best man was Dezra’s king. I felt my world spin. “I don’t want him as our best man.

  Order him away, send him on a mission, I don’t care. Just send him away.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible. He’s above my command.” Qay pulled me from the chair into his arms. I wanted to push him away, but his embrace felt too good, too comforting, and his hands started wandering over my body, so gently, so calmly.

  I licked my suddenly dry lips. “The book…what about the best man is taken to be literal?”

  “Do you trust me?”

  I hesitated, acknowledging that my trust in him wasn’t absolute anymore. But I did love him. The weeks with him had shown me a man worthy of every woman’s love. He was intelligent and respectful and gentle, and he made me laugh. “I do love you so much. But I wish you hadn’t kept that from me.” I shook my head, stealing a glance at the curtain. He was there, just a thin fabric away. “Why, Qay, why not tell me?”

  “Would you have come to my home if I had?” Qay asked. “Please, don’t let fear stand in the way of our happiness. Give us a chance.”

  “Us?” I asked, fearing the answer.

  “Us three.”

  “There’s no us if it involves him.” Zyn shouldered through the curtain into the
room.

  “I don’t want your gift,” I said, but it sounded like a challenge and I wished I had kept my mouth shut.

  “You already accepted it, but I’ll keep her for you.” His chest muscles moved as he poured himself a drink, not wine, but a clear liquid from a glass flask. His movement was as graceful as that of the large cat. When he pulled up a chair, I backed away from the table. The cat jumped from the bed to settle at his feet as if he’d told her to.

  I suddenly remembered Kyra’s words of caution. I wasn’t on Earth anymore. I had no rights whatsoever on Dezra. Who would stop Zyn from doing whatever he wanted with me? No one.

  “Jana,” Qay said. “Say the word and I’ll call Kyra and she’ll take you back to Earth.”

  His words relaxed the tight knot in my stomach.

  Then I made the mistake of seeking out Zyn’s gaze. The expression in his eyes spoke volumes. Ever so slightly, he shook his head, looking positively evil. He wouldn’t let me go. He had me where he had wanted me all along. On Dezra, stripped of all my authority and rights. But I believed Qay, believed him with everything I held dear. I wouldn’t give him up, I wouldn’t.

  Even if I had to face Zyn.

  “What happens during our second night?” I looked at Qay, steeling myself. “What role does he play?”

  “He will witness our joining.”

  My stomach bottomed out and I grew faint. “What else? Anything else you should tell me? Because I can’t stand any more surprises tonight.” I thought I heard Zyn chuckle but didn’t dare look at him.

  Qay paced the room, looking every bit as restless as I felt inside. He settled on the edge of the bed, working his hand through his hair as if buying himself more time. “It is the best man’s right to prepare the bride for her husband.”

  “Let’s get another best man then,” I said quickly, mentally crossing my fingers.

  “As the king,” Qay said quietly, “he has the right to demand to be the best man at any wedding on Dezra. Not that he’s ever insisted on this right. But for my wedding, there’s no other option. It is trad—”

  “Yes, I know,” I snapped, getting irritated. “It’s tradition. Will he touch me though?”

  “Do you want me to?” Zyn said before Qay could answer. When I shook my head, he grinned and said, “But I’ll touch you anyway, everywhere.” There was a small thrill running through me at his words, and I stepped in front of Zyn, between his legs as he sat on the chair, trying to ignore that I had to share this space with the cat resting there. His brows lifted as if caught by surprise by my sudden bold move.

  “Strip the dress off me.” I spoke it as a command, feeling that if I took control, I wouldn’t feel as helpless. “Do whatever tradition demands.” I was aware that I was fooling myself, using tradition as an excuse for giving in, but it was this or admitting that I wanted Zyn to touch me, dominate me. And I wasn’t ready to admit to that, because it would mean I’d learned nothing from the mistake in my past.

  He rose, and I didn’t flinch away, not even when he stepped so close his thighs brushed against mine. I had to tip my head back to meet his gaze, to watch the expression in his eyes change from amused to cool, as if he didn’t like me taking control. Leaning forward, he rested his cheek against mine, as a lover might do to whisper sweet nothings. “I will tame you,” he said so quietly only I could hear. “I’ll have you on your knees, on a leash, just like the cat I gave you. And you cannot run from me. I’ll never let you go again.”

  I jerked my head back, stared into the depths of his eyes as he closed his hands around my shoulders. He brushed the shoulder straps of my dress down my arms, and then turned me around. His breath warm against my bare neck, he found the small buttons holding my dress together. I felt him reaching out to me with his thoughts. The dress fell to my feet and a wave of warmth enveloped me, like an embrace. It was strangely pleasant.

  “Open your eyes,” he said, and I did, hadn’t even noticed that I’d closed them.

  He knelt in front of me and I lifted each foot when he grasped my ankles to take off the flat shoes. I crossed my arms in front of my chest because I was naked except for the flimsy excuse of fabric that was my panties. When he rose to his feet, the tip of his nose brushed over my mound, my belly, and he breathed in deeply, as if he was trying to inhale the scent of my cunt.

  When he leaned forward, as if to kiss me, I turned my head.

  Zyn lowered himself to his knees again, pulling my panties down at the same time.

  The sight of him kneeling in front of me was odd, felt wrong, but I couldn’t say why. I almost grabbed him by the shoulders to pull him up again. My breath came in hard, fast gasps as he settled his hand around my hip. “I will touch you now.”

  Before I had a chance to think about what he meant, he had cupped me in his palm.

  He pressed his hand against my clit, slipped a finger inside me. He looked up, revealing sharp canines as he grinned. It made me feel like prey.

  “You’re wet,” he said, moving his finger ever so slowly in and out of me. “You like what I do, don’t you?”

  “Qa- ay.” I heard the panic in my own voice. “Are you sure it’s tradition that he, he—” I broke off, wondering if the best man was really allowed to make the bride almost come with his touch.

  “He will prepare you for me,” Qay answered, his eyes slightly hooded, his voice rough from arousal, “in every sense of the word. It is his right. And it is your right to take pleasure in it.”

  Zyn moved his hand between my legs while his dark gaze rested on my face. The onslaught of sensation was so strong, the hand between my legs so skilled, I wasn’t sure how to fight the waves of arousal anymore. The emotions he stirred inside me didn’t even remotely resemble a level of arousal I considered normal. Uncontrolled, a moan escaped me. Whatever he thought he needed to prepare, I wasn’t sure what more it was. I was drenched, my juices covered his palm.

  Abruptly, he pulled his hand back, leaving me to stagger after him. Zyn took my hand, walked me to Qay. “Your bride is ready.” He added words in the high language, too fast for me to understand and spoken with an unnatural rasp to his voice. Whatever he’d said, it seemed to please Qay.

  Qay rose from the bed and Zyn took off Qay’s vest to bare his upper body.

  I held my breath, watching how he continued to undress Qay. He did it with sure, quick movements, not the slow, caressing touch he’d used undressing me. Yet, as he untied Qay’s pants and pulled them over his hips, there was a subtle sensuality between them that drew me in.

  I didn’t need the push against the small of my back Zyn gave me.

  Qay’s cock stood ready and willing as he eased himself between the sheets. I wanted him, wanted nothing sophisticated but him on top of me, his cock inside me, making us one. But we weren’t one. We weren’t even two. We were three and I couldn’t get it out of my head. That Zyn pulled a chair to the bed to watch Qay and me more comfortably wasn’t helping.

  I slid my knee on top of the mattress and Qay did the rest, wrapping his hands around my waist and pulling me close. His erection nudged against my hip and I twisted in his arms, glad when he moved on top of me. I closed my eyes, focusing on the feel and taste of his kiss.

  This was going to be my husband, and if he was fine with another man’s presence while we had sex, so would I be. Qay kissed my neck, tiny kisses that relaxed and aroused me all at once. His mouth moved from my neck down to my breasts, and I pulled the sheets up, covering us, shielding us from view. Qay sat up between my legs, gazing down at me. “Let me look at you, my heart,” he whispered, and my throat tightened. He could look all he wanted, his heated gaze leaving little shivers of pleasure on my skin.

  But when I tilted my head, I saw that he wasn’t the only one looking. My breath hitched and I crossed my arms over my breasts because my nipples rose to almost painful attention.

  “Let me look at you—please,” Qay said again, and I dropped my arms to my sides because I didn’t want him to think t
hat I felt the need to hide in front of his eyes. I focused on Qay, on the way light and shadows danced over his face as he braced himself up on his hands above me. He lowered his head to take one of my nipples into his mouth. He sucked, tenderly, and I buried my hands into his hair to tug him closer.

  I heard Zyn move and opened my eyes. He stood beside the bed, his gaze resting on my face as if he tried to drink in every drop of emotion showing there. Like an exhalation, a warm breeze touched my face.

  The similarity to the image in the book didn’t escape me, but I didn’t reach for him, I didn’t want him to join in. My gaze fell to the large cat pacing the room, and I wasn’t sure what was the greater danger—Zyn or this wild animal.

  Qay was kissing my breasts, my stomach, working his way down between my legs.

  I loved it when he licked me with his clever tongue. “So wet, my heart.” The first lick he gave my clit had me moaning out loud. His traced his tongue along my cunt lips and flicked my clit. It felt good, so good, but I was growing more and more anxious.

  Then I heard a low, almost growling sound coming from Zyn.

  I gathered the courage to meet his gaze square-on while Qay was between my legs, his tongue licking and his mouth sucking, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to find pleasure if I continued to be scared.

  “Do you have to look at me?” I said quietly, gazing up at him. “Surely, you can witness us from farther away.”

  “Why? There is nothing shameful about watching a woman enjoying the attention of a male.”