22: Tristan Goes Where No Man Has Before

Caution! There may be maturity ahead. Skip to after the break (marked with ***) if that's not something you're interested in.

While stumbling into his bedroom with Vyrsa wrapped around his waist, Tristan wished he'd taken Brody's offers to come with him to the gym at least a few times. Perhaps his arm muscles would have been better suited for such tasks then. Although he doubted there were specific exercises to prepare oneself for carrying alien princesses.

Trying to come up with a way to put her down gracefully, Tristan tripped on the edge of the carpet. He landed on the bed with Vyrsa straddled on top of him. Which honestly, wasn't a bad option either. Although it wasn't very graceful.

"Sorry," he mumbled, only the be silenced by a finger on his lips.

"No talk," Vyrsa whispered into his ear, nibbling enticingly on the lobe. "Not now."

To make her point, she flung her bodice open, disabling the translation functions built into it. Did her space suit have some kind of quick-release button for such maneuvers?

This was obviously not an important question and it was soon wiped from Tristan's mind as Vyrsa guided his hand toward her naked bosom. Sparkling in the twilight rays from the oncoming night, tiny beads formed circles around her nipples, like brooches made of glittering gems. He carefully stroked his fingertips across, causing the gems to change color from muted pink into vibrant red as if to display the desire ignited in her veins.

A low buzz reverberated from Vyrsa's throat, growing stronger as he continued the motion. It appeared they didn't need language to communicate. Sounds and touches worked just as well.

Rising toward her to unite their lips, he cradled her breast with both his hands. Drawing circles on the silky smooth skin, he paid attention to how the buzzing in her veins fluctuated as he approached certain spots. The beads were especially sensitive, making her shiver with every slight caress.

Her lips were fire. Her skin was lava. Her movements atop of him were each an ember teasing the igniting flame inside of him.

As if she knew how hot he was burning—which she probably did, judging from her wicked smile—Vyrsa dislodged her lips from his and scooted downward on the bed, placing herself atop his knees. Which was the perfect position for opening the fly of his pants.

Tristan yelped out loud as her tingling fingers caressed his groin. Despite layers of fabric still forming a barrier between them, every teasing tap made shockwaves reverberate through his body. Throwing his head back—probably tangling his curls into a bird's nest—he gave in to the sensation while closing his eyes.

He floated in space, free from worries about invading aliens and possible future separations. In this galaxy of glittering stars, it was only them. They were together, forever.

Vyrsa opened the zipper and the whole universe danced. It swayed like shimmering plasma rays and hummed like distant stars exploding.

Tingling fingers stroked him over and over. Harder and harder. Hotter and hotter. Tristan screamed, fearing that he might just pass out from the onslaught of sensations. Glittering lips caught him on the precipice, pulling him into an otherworldly embrace.

He pulled Vyrsa closer, holding onto her as if he was a lone astronaut floating in space and she was the heroic princess sent to save him. Which wasn't too far from the truth. Although he'd been floating in a sea of useless facts rather than endless darkness.

Helping Tristan free himself from his shirt, Vyrsa bent down to kiss him once again. Their skin touched in so many places it was almost unbearable. It was like straying too close to the sun.

Next, Tristan's pants and underwear landed on the floor, discarded by the glittering alien princess atop him.

Only her skirt and leggings remained. But not for long. Because in one fell swoop, Vyrsa pulled off the last pieces of clothing.

Did those also have a quick-release button? Clothing technology must be very advanced on her planet.

Why did he think of such things? There was a naked alien princess atop him.

Tristan turned his attention where it should be, shaking all analytic thoughts from his head. Vyrsa really was a magnificent sight. The fading light from outside reflected on her glittering skin, making the whole room spin as if a disco ball hung from the ceiling.

Every touch buzzed and burned, making him quiver in anticipation. Tristan wouldn't have been surprised if literal sparks had flown in the wake of their friction.

Needing to feel every part of her, Tristan put his hand on her hip. A trail of glimmering gemstones showed the way toward the most precious spot. His feverish fingertips traced the beads carefully, making each one glow bright red like a ruby.

The ribbon of sensitive dots ended right between her legs in a teardrop-shaped lustful zone. Her whole body convulsed when he stroked his finger across, sending addicting tingles back into his veins. He did it again, and again. Everything spun, tingled, and burned. Him to her and her to him, over and over.

They were the universe and the universe was them. Nothing else mattered.

Just when Tristan thought proceedings couldn't get more intense, Vyrsa grabbed his hand and pulled it away from the throbbing ruby of desire. With a decisive look, she took a grip on the hardest part of his body and lowered herself atop.

Tristan forgot all concerns about biological compatibility as their bodies united, somehow. He also forgot all about birth control, and it wasn't like he could ask anyway. Hopefully, aliens had methods to prevent such side effects.

All he could do was cry out her name as an electrifying pulse spread through every limb of his body. Tristan heard Vyrsa call out something as well, maybe it was his name in her native language. To him, it just sounded like an indecipherable string of unknown syllables.

But for once in Tristan's life, talking seemed unimportant. The only thing important was her. Her touch. Her movements. Her cadence.

His alien princess. She was a star of flooding light, pulling him into her orbit and making him part of her blinding beauty.

And just like stars, their burning light would eventually turn into a supernova, shattering the space around them as it burst into billions of tiny specks of fire.

Tristan wasn't afraid of getting burned. He wasn't afraid of anything.

Except for losing her.

Putting his hands on her hips, he pulled her closer, reveling in every movement of synchronized lust. Lips attracted each other like magnets, pulled by an inescapable force. Somehow their different poles had become united despite the light-year divide.

Vyrsa vibrated in his arms, charged by an energy of unknown origin. Even her insides appeared to sing along to the same tune, capturing him in its achingly beautiful rhythm, moving faster until it became one constant unified heartbeat.

Tristan yelled into space as the universe caved in on him in one mind-blowing cataclysm of emotions. Just like the Big Bang, nothing turned into everything in the blink of an eye.

Vibrant red. Glittering pink. Soothing purple. A spectrum of flowing colors surrounded him before the world came into view again.

Glowing emerald lips soothed him into pleasant dreams before reality had time to take hold.

***

Lush green lips were still on Tristan's mind when he woke up. He had no clue if minutes, hours, or even days had passed. It hardly seemed to matter.

At least not until he gazed toward the window, where parted blinds revealed a dark night sky with a bright glowing green dot, which appeared to be coming closer and closer.

"Vyrsa!" Tristan shook the shoulder of his bedmate, who rested her head against his chest. Glittering strands of hair tickled him when she rose with a confused look. A harangue of gibberish came from her lips.

Oh right, the translation device still was on the floor, discarded together with their clothes.

Unable to wait until she was clothed, Tristan pointed toward the window and the ominous unidentified flying object.

The confusion lifted from Vyrsa's features and was instead replaced by fear. A single word fell from her lips as she stared in disbelief. A word even Tristan could understand.

"Coi," she mumbled, followed by a long list of what he assumed to be expletives.

It appeared the alien invasion had been rescheduled to an earlier hour.

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