Unworldly Encounter Complete Series Page 2

  “How did you end up in the woods?” Andrea saw the turn for the street her house was on and looked around to make sure that there were no animals attempting to cross the street—once bitten, twice shy—before she pulled onto the block.

  “I am with a group of fellow… researchers. We are conducting experiments. I must contact them soon to let them know that I have—that all is well.”

  “Pretty spread-out group? What are you experimenting to find out?” The man shifted in the seat again and Andrea heard the chair’s support structures groaning slightly.

  “I am restricted from saying,” he said, his voice devoid of any emotion, the accent harsher. “It’s—what is the word you use here? Top secret.” Andrea pressed her lips together. A foreigner in the US with purple skin of all things conducting top-secret experiments. She shrugged; it was as good a cover story as any she supposed.

  She pulled into the driveway and the security light mounted over her garage flicked on. “You live alone?” Jan asked her. Andrea glanced at him askance but nodded.

  “I did tell you I only have one bed,” she pointed out. The man shrugged.

  “Many people have only one bed. Doesn’t always mean you live alone.” Andrea felt her cheeks warming up with a blush and didn’t quite know why.

  “Yes, well, I do live alone. But that doesn’t mean I’m helpless—I have…I can defend myself.” Jan looked at her and she could see something in his strange honey-gold eyes that she couldn’t quite read; it might be amusement or something else.

  “I told you I am not interested in attacking you, little one.” Andrea frowned.

  “Could you stop calling me ‘little one’? I’m a grown woman! And a pretty large one at that!” Andrea crossed her arms over her chest, her face burning with a mixture of embarrassment and attraction. Jan made the strange noise again—she had to assume it was his version of a laugh—and shook his head.

  “You are a little one, compared to me. I could pick you up, carry you away—no problem.” Andrea’s initial fear-tinged thought was that he was probably right, but her pride was insulted nonetheless.

  “No, it would be a big problem if you tried to pick me up and carry me away,” she said, trying to pin him down with her gaze; Jan seemed completely and totally unafraid of her anger—almost amused. “So don’t try it, okay?” The man’s shoulders lifted in an approximation of a shrug that didn’t quite look the same as when anyone else did it.

  “Some women like to be carried,” Jan said mildly. “I think you would like it, too. Not many men here carry their women.” Andrea took a deep breath. God, of course the only gorgeous guy I see all night talks about picking me up and carrying me away. She exhaled slowly.

  “You don’t try it, or I’ll—I’ll hurt you. I’m mean.” She opened the car door and unbuckled her seat belt, ignoring the shoes she had taken off after the accident.

  Jan climbed out of the passenger side and Andrea was once more stricken by the sheer size of him. He was at least a good half-foot taller than her, maybe more. Underneath the coverall he wore it was easy to see he was plenty strong—as if the way he’d casually pushed her car off of the embankment by the road hadn’t demonstrated it to her already. Why the hell am I inviting this guy into my house? She remembered that he’d also fixed her car. If he kills me, I hope he at least doesn’t leave me in a humiliating position. No one needs to see that shit.

  Andrea unlocked her front door and opened it, turning back to look over her shoulder as the man slipped into the house behind her in near-total silence. “Home sweet home,” she said, smiling nervously. “I’ll just… get you some linens from my bedroom, you can sleep on the couch…” she gestured to it; when she had been moving the behemoth into her home, she had had serious doubts about the utility of it—but now that she had a huge man in her house it suddenly seemed much more practical.

  She scurried towards her bedroom while Jan looked around her suddenly much smaller living room. Away from his oddly prying eyes Andrea felt her heartbeat starting to slow. She took a deep breath. “Do you know how you can get in touch with your—colleagues?” Andrea stepped into the bathroom and grabbed a package of makeup remover cloths; she was not going to let this man, strange and good-looking as he was, interrupt her routine.

  The answer came from so close behind her that Andrea dropped the plastic pouch. “I will contact them easily in the morning from here.” Andrea turned on her heel to see Jan only a few feet away from her, staring at her through the doorway to her bathroom, looking as confident and uncaring as anyone on the planet.

  “Excuse me,” she said, shaken, embarrassed and irritated. “I didn’t say you could follow me in here.” The man’s lips curved upward.

  “You did not say I could not.” He moved closer to her and Andrea stepped back, her heart beating faster. The backs of her knees collided with the sink and she fumbled for the counter top with her hands.

  “I told you if you try and attack me—” Jan stepped into the bathroom and in an instant he was only inches away from her, looming over her looking down with his bizarre eyes. Andrea realized with a shock that they were his real eyes—that he wasn’t wearing contacts. Up close the purplish cast of his skin was more pronounced and obvious. The man reached out and rested his hands on either side of her body on the counter top, trapping her.

  “I am not attacking you,” the man said, his voice a slightly rasping, almost a lisping whisper. “I am curious. I have never had a—American woman.” Andrea’s knees felt as if they were made of jelly. The man was only two inches away from her; so close she could smell the slightly lemony, sharp-sweet scent of his body. In spite of her fear, she could feel her whole body warming up, a buzzing hum of desire creeping through her veins, a tight feeling of something between her hips tensing.

  “What—what makes you think you’re going to—to have an American woman now?” Andrea tried to think of what she had at hand, what she could use to attack this behemoth. Somehow, her hair dryer, brush, or perfume bottle didn’t seem like it would make any difference.

  “You want me,” the man said, looking down into her eyes. “I know. I can see.” His hand closed on one of hers and Andrea started, a low half-whimper leaving her throat. “I do not hurt you, Drea.”

  “You’re—kind of scaring me right now. If you don’t want to hurt me… you shouldn’t… you shouldn’t scare me.” Jan smiled; at least that was the way the expression read to Andrea.

  “I will not hurt you. But I am curious about you. I want…I want to feel you.” Jan’s mouth was only a few inches away from her face, and Andrea felt a sudden sharp jolt of intrigue and revulsion as she realized that his tongue was forked—she caught just a momentary glimpse of it as he spoke.

  “What—who—what the hell are you?” Suddenly everything about him—the strange color of his skin and eyes, the size of him, the forked tongue, the stilted and accented English—came together in Andrea’s mind. This—man—was not just a foreigner; he couldn’t be. He was some kind of freak. Jan made the sound that Andrea had associated with his laughter.

  “I am a scientist,” he said. “I would like to…experiment with you. I can see you, little one. You are showing signs…” Jan’s hand moved to her waist and Andrea jumped, startled and apprehensive. “You are—what is the word? Turned…on? By me.” Andrea’s heart was pounding in her chest, and her mouth was dry.

  Before she could respond Jan leaned in, closing the remaining distance between them. His lips closed on hers and Andrea made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a moan as he began to kiss her. His lips tasted strange; as Jan’s forked tongue slithered across hers Andrea shivered against him. He tasted of something spicy and almost fruity. She wasn’t sure whether that was a result of something he had consumed, or whether he just tasted that way. Unbidden, involuntarily, the thought occurred to Andrea to wonder what he tasted like elsewhere—and then, shocking her so much that she nearly broke the kiss, what he would look like elsewhere.

  Jan
broke away from the kiss, his deft hands moving to lift her blouse up. Andrea pushed his hands away. “You’re not just a scientist,” she said, panting slightly. She couldn’t deny to herself that he was right; he turned her on. But she was also curious, alarmed, by how strange the man was. “Jan, tell me the truth—or… I’ll…” she couldn’t think of anything she could actually do to harm such a huge man.

  Jan kissed her again, silencing her for a moment. His skin felt almost unbearably hot to the touch, his tongue wriggled and probed inside of her mouth, the forked ends moving in a way that was only too appealing.

  “I am not from here,” Jan said lowly. He was leading her towards the bed. “I am here to collect specimens for experimentation.” He kissed her lightly on the lips again. Andrea shoved at him futilely.

  “You’re not telling me the truth—not the whole truth, anyway.” Andrea breathed. Jan hesitated and then his hands were moving over her body again, his expression a mixture of grave concentration and desire.

  “Later,” Jan said. He nipped along the column of her throat, and Andrea moaned, tilting her head back obediently to give him free access, half-forgetting her fear and concerns about the strangeness of the man who was seducing her. “Tell me your safe word.” Andrea stepped back, looking at Jan in shock.

  “My—what? You want my safe word? What…I—what?” Andrea shook her head; she knew about BDSM in theory—but it had never been something that she was interested in trying with any of her previous lovers, and none of them had pushed the idea.

  “Yes, your safe word. Tell me so that we can get started.” Andrea’s heart was pounding in her chest; could she really trust this complete stranger? The fact that he was asking for a safe word at all—at least that pointed to him not wanting to take her against her will, didn’t it? Andrea licked her lips, all at once remembering the man’s hands moving around in her engine compartment, and the thought that had occurred to her watching him.

  “My… my safe word is… apple.” Andrea whispered. Jan nodded and his hands went to work almost immediately, pulling and tugging at her clothes.

  “You wear too much,” Jan muttered, almost to himself; Andrea almost laughed. She had deliberately chosen some of the skimpier clothes in her closet for the night out.

  “Let me help you,” Andrea suggested. She reached around to her back and tugged down the zipper on her blouse along her spine, watching Jan watching her as she pulled the fabric up over her head and cast it aside. Why am I doing this? She wondered, even as she hooked her fingers in the waistband of her skirt and tugged it down over her full hips. She let it fall to her feet and stepped out of it, breathing a little heavier as more and more of her skin was revealed to Jan’s gaze.

  As she stripped down she watched as Jan began to open the fastenings on his coverall. Slowly, more and more of Jan’s purple-tinged skin was revealed; he had absolutely no hair on his chest—not even nipples—and Andrea’s confusion deepened. Was there a man on the planet who didn’t have nipples? The lack of something she had taken for granted that all humans had made her start to wonder just what he would be like further below—and made her again question just what she was doing. It was quickly becoming clear that if Jan was human, he was a mutant of some kind. If he’s a human…he’s not a human. He can’t be. She unhooked her bra, guiding it away from her chest and sliding the straps down her shoulders.

  Standing in front of Jan in nothing but her lacy panties, Andrea stopped and stared. Underneath the coverall, Jan was bare except for underwear, which covered what she hoped and dreaded were his genitals.

  “You’re not human,” she said, taking an instinctive step backwards. Jan hesitated and then nodded.

  “You are correct.”

  Andrea licked her lips. He was unquestionably hot; even if his purplish skin, strange eyes, and lack of certain parts of human anatomy were far from what she expected, Andrea couldn’t deny that she found him intensely attractive. More attractive than any of the men she had seen at the bar, and more attractive than most of the men she had been with.

  “You said—you said something about experiments.” Andrea felt a chill run down her spine and crossed her arms over her full breasts, squirming slightly under Jan’s intent gaze.

  “Later,” Jan said, his honey-gold eyes tracing over the curves of her nearly naked body. “For now, little one, you will submit to me.” Andrea’s eyes widened.

  “Excuse me?” her arms tightened around her chest. “Give me one good reason why I should.” Jan’s lips curved.

  “Because,” he said, closing the distance between them in a quick movement, “I am your Master. And you require punishment.”

  Before she could react, Jan’s hands closed around her arms and pulled them away from her chest. He gathered both of her wrists into one of his hands and looked around the room; Andrea’s heart pounded in her chest and her mind reeled at the strength of his grip. He was going to punish her? For what? Jan’s gaze paused on something he saw strewn on her not-quite-neat floor, and he pulled Andrea with him as he bent over and picked up a pair of tights she had worn to work earlier in the day.

  Jan tied her wrists together with a few quick, deft movements, binding them tightly almost before Andrea could think clearly enough to get her hands free of his grip. He moved her arms so that her breasts pushed out between them, winding and tucking the stocking fabric around her lower arms until they were bound firmly against her belly.

  “Tell me again your safe word,” Jan said, holding her gaze.

  “Apple?” Jan nodded. He cupped her breasts in his huge hands, his thumb and forefinger closing around her nipples. Andrea gasped as he pinched and rolled them until they hardened into firm little nubs, electric jolts of pleasure shooting through her body directly to her sex. In spite of her instinctive fear, her apprehension about just what the non-human man had in store for her, Andrea felt her body heating up, felt herself getting wetter and wetter.

  “You’ve been a bad girl, little one,” Jan told her, his expression moving into disapproving lines. “You must be spanked.” Andrea’s eyes widened and instinctively she tugged at the fabric binding her arms together. A spanking? She shook her head.

  “N-no, no I don’t,” she said, trying to step back. Jan’s lips curved slightly.

  “Do not try to escape, little one. It will be a worse punishment if you do.” Jan grabbed her by the waist and Andrea found herself being lifted up, maneuvered around, as if she was nothing more than a doll. Jan sat down on the edge of her bed, and brought her down sprawling across his lap. Andrea felt the hard ridge of—something—digging into her side as the non-human man settled her the way he wanted her. One of his arms pinned her down against his thick, heavy, strong thighs at the small of her back. “I will spank you, and you will apologize for your bad behavior,” Jan told her, his voice low and intense in her ear. “And then I will let you come.”

  Andrea’s skin tingled and crawled with anticipation. She yelped when Jan’s hand brushed against the backs of her thighs, an almost-caress, a teasing touch that made her shiver. He made the sound that she assumed was his version of a laugh at her reaction. When she finally relaxed against his lap, Andrea heard a muffled smack; in the same instant, an explosion of heat and tingling almost-pain jolted through her buttocks. She gasped, arching in the instinct to attempt to get away from the stinging blow. Jan’s arm against the small of her back kept her locked in place as he brought his hand down against her buttocks again and again, the thin fabric of Andrea’s panties barely diffusing the blows.

  Her eyes stung, and yelps ripped out of Andrea’s throat—but she couldn’t quite bring herself to use the safe word. Heat began to rise and intensify in her skin, tingling impulses shooting down her legs and up her back, echoing straight to her already-damp mound. Jan paused—and for a moment, Andrea hoped that her punishment was over—and then she felt his fingers hook into the waistband of her panties. He tugged them down over her hips, almost ripping them, somehow managing to keep her p
inned down with one arm even as he stripped her.

  “Tell me you’re a bad little girl,” Jan said, his voice somehow harsher, his accent more pronounced. Andrea squirmed; she didn’t know what was lurking beneath the not-quite-briefs he wore, but it was hard as a rock, heat radiating into her from it.

  Andrea swallowed, her throat tight and dry, her eyes streaming. “I—I’m a bad—a bad little girl,” she said, blood rushing to her face in humiliation. She had never referred to herself as a little girl—or at least, not since she had hit puberty. But somehow, trapped on Jan’s lap in his strong arms, it didn’t seem at all strange, even if it was embarrassing, to call herself a little girl.

  “Say you need to be punished more,” Jan told her. Andrea whimpered as she felt his hot, strong hand grab at the hot skin of her buttocks, rubbing and kneading.

  “I need to be punished more!” The words left her almost involuntarily—certainly she didn’t think of them before they passed her lips. Jan’s hand ceased to rub; in the next instant, Andrea heard the crack of his bare skin coming down against hers, the hotter, more intense jolt of his blow against her cheeks. She struggled, pulling and tugging at the binds on her wrists and arms, arching and squirming against the iron hold Jan had on her. His hand came down on her again and again—alternating from one cheek to another, blows raining down right at the curve of her buttocks.

  Andrea gasped and somehow her whimpering yelps transformed into moans as she became more and more turned on, her whole body tingling. If anyone had ever asked her before that moment if she would enjoy being spanked, Andrea would have told them that she would never—ever—let anyone do that to her. And yet somehow, she couldn’t remember being more aroused in any point in her entire life. Jan paused, and Andrea sagged against his thighs, panting, shaking, and utterly helpless. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted the punishment to go on forever or if she wanted it to end immediately.

  “Now you will apologize,” Jan told her. She felt his lips brush against her shoulder, felt the hand that had been raining blows across her buttocks drift down between her legs, his deft fingers wriggling and searching. He touched her slick folds and Andrea moaned out, struggling to push her hips back into his touch, hungry for more than the teasing, feather-light caress.