Wrage (Galaxy Gladiators #11) - Alana Khan Page 0,35

or tips with anyone. Over the last four years in space, I’ve learned to play the marena, a similar keyboard that’s standard in most bars of this type.

Since we couldn’t download the music for this Earth song from the Intergalactic Database, I sit down to play it. The keyboard faces the audience, and Wrage stands behind me, his hands lightly resting on my shoulders.

I don’t think he’s aware of how his cock whispers against my skin as his hips sway from side to side. Halfway through the song, he gently grabs my wrist and lifts me out of my seat, indicating we’ll sing the rest acapella.

Bringing me to the foot of the stage, he positions us to face each other rather than the audience. This feels almost like the wreathing that happened in the pod, although I know nothing spiritual is going on. Somehow though, the audience fades away and the planet, his mother and this disaster of a trip all fade into the background.

In the foreground, there’s only the two of us and the words that spill effortlessly from our lips. I quit singing for a moment, letting his voice take center stage as he tells me the best part of him is me. It doesn’t feel like he’s singing anyone else’s lyrics. He’s speaking from the heart as he declares his affection for me in front of a roomful of people.

My teeth press into my bottom lip, hot tears sting the back of my eyes, and I feel his tender emotions wash over me. All of my doubts vanish as my heart opens to him like the petals of a flower.

I shake my head to drag myself out of my stupor and join him for the last chorus. We look into each other’s eyes and sing as if we’re the only two people on the planet.

It’s only when the audience rises to their feet, whistling and hooting and clapping like crazy, that I return to the stage in the shabby little bar.

We grab hands, face forward, and bow, then hurry off stage.

The corridor to our room is empty except for the thunderous applause assaulting me through not only my ears, but through vibrations in the floor. Before we get to our room, he stops, presses me against the wall, and brackets his hands next to my shoulders.

There’s one dim bulb lighting the hallway, but I can’t escape the look of tender appreciation in his gaze as he dips his head, one micron at a time. He gives me all the time I need to prepare for a kiss I know is going to be spectacular.

His lips nibble mine, then suck my bottom lip into his mouth before he pierces into me with his tongue. It’s a sweet, erotic statement of possession.

His tongue plunders my mouth as his hands lift me up, split me wide, and press me against him. His cock is notched against my slit as he dry humps me against the wall. My hardened nipples glide against his chest, as sensitized as if they were exposed. Circling my arms around his neck allows me to press even closer.

I’m jammed so tightly against the wall he moves one hand from where it’s lodged near my shoulders and slides it between us.

“You’re dripping for me, Elyse,” he groans as his finger slides into me. His thumb finds my little button and circles.

“Wrage,” is all I can say. My mind is racing yet going nowhere. I can’t follow what’s happening other than to pay attention to my quivering channel and my insistent need to be filled.

Suddenly, he comes to his senses, perhaps remembering we’re in the crappy back hallway of a very public place. My body slides down the wall and he steps back. Our gazes are locked, though. The promise of what’s coming next is postponed, not cancelled.

“Ma’am, Sir,” Elkin says as he approaches. The sheepish look on his face tells me he got a look at some, if not all, of what just transpired. I’m not sure I care.

“I’m prepared to offer you a contract for the next lunar, perhaps longer. The audience very much enjoyed your very excellent performance.” He tips his head in a mini bow.

“Sorry, Elkin,” I tell him. “We’re leaving the planet tomorrow. But thanks.”

We slip into our room and Wrage locks the door behind us. This room could be in a palace or a hovel, it doesn’t matter, because we’re in it together.

I banish all worries. I don’t care about Analac, or