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Alien Commander's Captive Page 5
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Each day he visited, he brought not only Dionus items of interest, but questions. He couldn’t seem to get enough information about my life on Earth. At first, I answered cautiously, suspicious he would only use the knowledge to further whatever nefarious mission he had on Earth.
But bit by bit, I gave more and more, as we discussed astronomy and robots. Dionus philosophy was a topic especially close to the commander’s heart, an almost Spartan manta that espoused steel self-control and loyalty above all.
Although he visited every day, sometimes for hours every day as we sat together at the small table, he never touched me, or made any kind of sensual interlude, though the heat within his voice seemed ever-present.
At times, I wondered if I had imagined the whole thing. And yet, there were moments when I’d catch him in the corner of my vision, his eyes filled with something carnal and untamed.
Though I knew I should be on my guard, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to examine him in close quarters as well. The more time I spent with him, the less I could make sense of him. I found myself covertly studying him, trying to fit all of the different pieces together.
Arrogant, yet considerate in his treatment towards a human like me, despite his voiced hatred for my species. A murderous tyrant, yet respectful of life, both here and on Earth. Distant and aloof, and yet strangely protective of my well-being.
I couldn’t think too long on his contrary nature without getting hopelessly muddled. And the more glances I stole, the more I found myself admiring not only his inhuman beauty, but the sheer personality in his features; the intelligence of his expression when he spoke, the masculine line of his square jaw, the amused rise of his eyebrows when he was trying to fight down a laugh.
I swore he caught me admiring him a few times, but the only indication was the shadow of a crooked smirk.
But despite my growing and begrudged admiration for the enigmatic commander, I knew our temporary truce was at best a stall tactic. He was still bound on a blood-thirsty mission on my planet, devoted to slaughtering who knew how many innocent people, and I was still his captive. And to escape, I needed to get out of this room.
Nearly three weeks after I’d left Earth, Commander Zenon came to my room, accompanying lunch as was his custom. I was ready for him. He had barely crossed the threshold before he froze in place, openly startled, his arresting eyes wide.
I had finally raided the wardrobe Zenon had left for me. It’d taken me all morning to sort through the closet, just beside my small table. The room itself was nearly ten feet tall, at least twenty yards wide, and stuffed with clothes of every imaginable color and fabric.
Silks and linens in shades of crimson and midnight blue featured prominently, along with soft emerald cottons and gauzy white wraps. I found to my shock that everything fit surprisingly well… perhaps a little too well, in fact, as the fabric clung to my body like paint. Apparently, the fashion rule of Dionus was that nothing should be left to the imagination.
I’d finally settled on a curve-clinging eggplant dress that tied around my neck and reached all the way down to my ankles. It was enticing enough from the front, until I turned around to reveal a plunging open back that just skimmed the top of my tailbone.
I’d spent the rest of the time piling up my hair into an elegant twist, the tendrils of my curls falling softly around my neck. A touch of concealer and eyeliner from the last of my travel makeup completed the look.
I was usually my harshest critic, and yet as I admired myself in the wavering full length mirror of my cavern bathroom, I had to admit I was a Grecian goddess incarnate.
“Hello, Commander Zenon,” I greeted him with a warm smile.
He didn’t reply for a moment, his gaze caressing every inch of me. A smile of satisfaction slowly lit up his face. At last, he locked eyes with me. “Good afternoon, Morgan.” The sound of my name on his lips sent shivers up the skin of my exposed back.
“Are you hungry?” I gestured to the table, where lunch had already been set out.
He grinned wickedly. “Ravenous,” he breathed, his eyes once again moving down my body. “I came to tell you I’m afraid I cannot join you for lunch.”
I fought back the taste of bitter disappointment. “Oh. That’s too bad. Of course, I realize you must be busy.”
He hesitated, and then said, haltingly, “But… perhaps you would permit me to show you something.” Stepping aside, he indicated the doorway. “If you would.”
Excitement rose up in me. I was actually going to finally leave my prison. I did my best to appear collected, “If you’re showing me something, shouldn’t you lead?”
“That’d rather defeat the purpose of such a lovely dress, wouldn’t it?” he asked with a dashing grin, and I let slip a small laugh.
Just like on the night when he’d invited me to dinner, I was led through endless, identical passages, all mixing together into a labyrinth of titanic size. He expertly guided me from behind, and I couldn’t resist making a show of walking with an extra hip swing for his benefit.
I knew we’d reached our destination when I felt the gentle pressure of his hands on my shoulders. It was the first time he’d touched me since I’d refused him, and I mutely thrilled at the warmth of his fingers on my bare shoulders. Carefully steering me, he pointed me to a section of the silver wall. I now knew better than to be fooled by the blank space.
I smiled coyly at him, “And why should I want this particular door to open?”
“Because everything you want will be inside,” he replied, gray-blue eyes gleaming.
I closed my eyes, and poured every ounce of frustrated desire-at him, at my captivity, at my own inability to make sense of what I felt for him-into wishing. I heard the wall split open with a gentle thud, but he quickly covered my eyes. “Not yet,” he said softly.
Still gripping my shoulders, Zenon guided me forward for several steps before stopping. The floor seemed to be a plush velvet rug that massaged my feet as I walked. Wherever we were, it smelled heavenly, like leather and fragrant smoke.
With a pang, I recognized the particular aroma-it was his scent, the one I caught whenever he was close. The room smelled as if it belonged to him in a way none of the others had.
“All right,” he whispered, “Open your eyes.”
I did, and nearly cried out in delight at the sight before me. The entire room, bigger than my cavern twice over, was crammed with books. They floated in orderly rows reaching all the way up to the ceiling, hovering in mid-air, just waiting to be plucked.
There were books of every size and every spine type, some faded, and some looking as if they came straight from a printing shop. The only space along the wall not occupied was a giant oval window that looked out over towering, cloud-topped mountains.
“And I thought I was a vivacious reader,” I muttered.
Zenon chuckled, “I thought it’s high time you got to pick out your own books, instead of being forced to read whatever I choose.”
“I’ve liked what you’ve picked out,” I suddenly had a hard time meeting his gaze. To cover my embarrassment, I hastily added, “I thought trees were pretty rare here.”
“They are,” he nodded, “This collection has been acquired over hundreds of years, some from other conquered warlords, some brought from Earth.”
I whistled. Amassing this many books must have cost a fortune-I was probably staring at one of the most priceless collections on the whole planet. Curious, I reached forward and poked at a nearby floating book. It bounced in the air for a moment, and then settled back onto its own row.
“Morgan.”
The remorse in his tone made me turn to him in surprise. I had never heard so much distress from him. His expression was even more startling; he looked as if he was steeling himself.
“Morgan,” he tried again, “I give you this library. You can come and go from here as often as you’d like.”
“As often as I’d like?” I repeated
in amazement.
He gave a small smile. “With a chaperone, of course. Call to Alva whenever.”
“Thank you.” My spirit soared at his words. I would finally have a chance to get out of my room, exactly what I’d hoped for. But there was more as well; I was genuinely touched by his signal of trust in me. His expression, though, made me instantly concerned.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?”
Zenon sighed, turning his face out onto the mountains just outside the window. “I think you’ll recall my visit from Captain Thal.”
I nodded.
“It seems that one of my neighboring warlords is moving against me, hoping they’ve found a weakness in my defenses.”
“Yeft?”
He raised an eyebrow, seemingly impressed at my recollection. “Yes. A very worthy foe-I won’t deny that if any could rival my army, it is probably her.”
“You’re leaving,” I stated quietly.
He did not look at me, his eyes fixated on the landscape.
“For how long?”
He shook his head.
I dropped my gaze to the floor, chewing anxiously on my lower lip. He was leaving. He had just given me a way out of my cage, and he was leaving. The opportunity for escape would never be better. And yet… he was marching into battle.
If I knew him at all, I knew he would be at the very front of his army, leading the troops, the most dangerous place for him to be. He could be injured, or even killed. While I might have resented his controlling captivity and murderous mission, I couldn’t wish such harm on him.
I joined him at the window, standing side by side. “Is that where you found the flower?” I asked quietly, “The one from Earth?”
“It is.” He stepped a little closer, pointing, “See that tallest point? It’s the highest peak on Dionus; we call it Heavensgate. That is my furthest southern border.”
“Is that where you’ll meet her?” I tried to keep the anxiety from my voice.
“Yes.”
Before I could stop myself, I threw my arms around his neck, pulling him close. “Please,” I breathed, “Please, be careful.”
His sultry arms folded around me, holding me against him, the balmy heat of his skin raising goosebumps on my bareback. He buried his face in my curls, a low groan of elation escaping from within his throat.
“Do you truly wish for my safety?” he asked.
“Yes,” I pressed my lips to the base of his throat, “Please. Come back to me.”
We hung suspended in the moment, our breathing in sync, neither of us daring to move. The fear that he would break away from me overwhelmed me. I couldn’t bear the thought, that I could never again hold him, never again hear his voice, and never again breathe in the inviting smell of leather and fire.
“Zenon…”
I felt his hand at the base of my neck, forcing my face to his. Before I could breathe, before I could think, his mouth was on mine. His kiss set my entire body on fire, all of the muscles in my abdomen tightening in delicious agony. I cried out in surprise and delight.
He took expert advantage, kissing me deeper, letting me feel the entire appetizing length of his impeccable, muscled body. I buried my fingers in his unruly curls; he dug his fingers into my flesh, drawing me as close as he could.
He broke the kiss only to press his mouth against my throat, his tongue grazing my skin in agonizing caresses. A groan escaped my lips as I clung to him, weak from desire.
In one motion, he swept me up into his arms, cradling me against him; he lifted me with such ease it was like I weighed nothing at all. Carefully, he knelt on the thick rug and laid me on the floor just beside the window.
Before I could speak, he kissed me again, his hands already navigating my body. I bashfully pressed my palms against his chest, reveling in the feel of his muscles slightly shifting beneath my fingers, the comforting thud of his heartbeat. Wait…
“Do-do you have two hearts?”
He grinned, and winked brashly, “Better endurance.”
Gradually, he slid his knee between my legs, delicately forcing them apart. He pressed himself against me, every inch of our bodies touching from neck to toe. I gasped at the evident hardness of his groin as he smoothly drove his hips against me.
“You-” I blushed, and couldn’t continue out of sheer embarrassment.
“Go on,” he encouraged, his hands once again exploring me.
“You… you don’t have two of those, do you?”
He laughed loudly and vibrantly, and then shot me another grin, “You’ll just have to discover for yourself.”
“Thanks for the warning,” I said drily, but he was already kissing me again, driving away all other concerns. Feeling bolder, I began to explore as well, running my fingers along his well-defined pecs, the bulging curves of his arms.
He moaned into our kiss as my fingers traveled south, lingering on the curve of his hip bone. Empowered, I began to pull at the hem of his linen shirt, forcing it up his chest, making my intention very, very clear.
He obliged-straightening, he stripped off both his shawl and his shirt, so he knelt before me bare-chested. Like a true gentleman, he waited patiently as I filled my eyes with his beauty.
I hadn’t thought it was possible for him to look any hotter, yet the clothes had apparently been cutting into just how mouth-watering provocative he was.
My gaze hung especially on the V-formation of his lower abs as it disappeared into the band of his pants. His chest too was clean-shaven, but he had a small patch of hair that grew across his stomach and trailed tantalizingly downwards.
It was with great effort I pulled my eyes back up to his flawless face. I could only have imagined that craving in his expression mirrored my own.
“Satisfied?” he asked teasingly.
“Hardly,” I smirked, and seizing his arms, yanked him back onto me. He happily accommodated me, burying his mouth in the crux between my shoulder and my throat. With deft fingers, he began to undo the knot holding my dress around my neck.
I tried to wriggle away, but he held me firm. “Submit yourself to Dionus tradition,” he muttered with a smile, “Fair’s fair.”
I giggled a little, though nothing could undo the twist of avidity in my insides. At last, the fabric yielded, and fell away; the straps tumbled loose onto my shoulders. He stroked my naked skin with his free fingers, slowly pushing away the fabric as he moved lower and my breathing intensified with every movement.
His mouth followed in the wake of his fingers, nuzzling and nipping my skin. He seized the loose fabric of my dress in his teeth and in one savage movement tossed it aside, leaving me completely uncovered.
I cried out, and attempted to cover myself, but as always, he moved faster than I ever could. Suddenly, he was straddling my hips, both of my wrists caught in his grip. He firmly shoved them to the floor, so I lay helpless and pinned beneath him.
He regarded me with apt appetite, his beautiful blue-gray eyes sliding over my bare chest. When he was sure I wouldn’t struggle, he dipped his head and continued his delectable examination, running his tongue from the base of my throat to the peak of each of my nipples. They hardened under his gaze, and he took each into his mouth, making me moan and writhe in delightful torment.
Just when I thought I’d go mad if I couldn’t have him, that he needed to take me right there on the floor before the misty mountain range, he released me. He broke all physical contact between us, pulling back a safe distance, his expression unreadable. The loss of his warmth was a sharp, piercing pain.
“I must go.”
“Now?” my voice wavered with need.
“Yes.”
I self-consciously pulled the fabric back over myself, enflamed with disappointment, and unsure whether I was angrier with myself, or him. He stood and shrugged back on his shirt. To my surprise, he then knelt beside me and tenderly redid the knot at my neck, his fingers brushing my skin. Grasping
my chin between his fingers, he turned my face towards him.
“I hope I’ve given you something to remember me by while I am gone. And I promise you,” his eyes burned, “I will return to you. Until then…. be well, Morgan Uaine.”
He took my hand, his eyes never leaving mine, and tenderly placing my palm against his lips, inhaled deeply, as if committing my scent and my image to memory. With one last kiss against my skin, he released my hand, and after bowing, he was gone.
5: THE ESCAPE
I watched his army march from the ship through the oval window of the library. The sight was something out of an epic fantasy story, the whole host with flags unfurled advancing towards the foggy foot of the mountains.
I saw, to my surprise, that the army was not only vast enough to cover nearly the entire landscape expanse until the fog swallowed them up, but that the army was made up entirely of robots. There were types of every size and variety; the front line seemed to consist of tall, sturdy-looking models with spikes all over their bodies.
The back of the army boasted huge, massive artillery robots that carried cannons on their backs. I even thought I saw a few robots slip in and out of the lines, as if they were camouflaged to blend in with their surroundings.
And at the head rode Zenon, dressed in deep tones of blood red, his shawl pulled up around his head and covering all but his eyes. He rode a robot creature that looked like a cross between a dragon and a wolf, with a long lanced tail and narrow head, stalking easily over the uneven ground, its giant wings curled up around Zenon like a nest.
I could see him motioning and shouting orders, which his troops obeyed with absolute precision. The glorious alien commander and his spectacular droid force; no wonder he ruled so much of Dionus. Anyone with a grain of sense would see this and run for their lives.
He turned back only once. I couldn’t be sure if he saw me. I raised my hand in farewell, but he had already directed his attention back to the battle ahead of him.