S1 Week 1 EP 32

“God, what I wouldn’t give for a nice, hot shower.” I peeled the matted hair strands off my skin, then rolled onto my back. If my skin wasn’t on fire, I might have been able to focus on the situation at hand. But it was, and that was all I could think about now that I was fully awake.

*Well, that and the constant throbbing of my clit.*

I picked the hair off my breast and then off my stomach. Even the simple, mundane task left my head spinning.

If the ceremonial drink was a hallucinogenic, then my senses and my body were on fire—not to mention, I was still horny as fuck—because of it. And unlike the last two times, it seemed more potent. Which meant the drink was the same or similar, but the effects were on a sliding scale that was going up instead of down.

*Shit. I need to clean myself.* I smelled like pure, unadulterated sex.

I glanced over at Garak. The man was busy caring for himself. And me, well, I just couldn’t get my muscles to respond to the commands my brain gave.

Seated on his powerful haunches, he washed his face and hands in the little alcove filled with water. Then, without further ado, he rose and then headed my way.

“If you had any brains at all,” I said. “You’d be cleaning me.”

*Damn. A day of sex, or was it a full day and night, really zaps a girl’s energy.* I shook my head, trying to clear the mental fog.

Garak grabbed my hips, ready to lift me off the makeshift bed of furs.

“Whoa. Hold up there, Buddy.” My hands pressed against his pecs—his very big… very muscular pecs. “I can pretty much guarantee that if you pick me up like this, we both know where your nose will end up.”

“Very well.” He helped me to my feet and then watched my naked ass as I sauntered rather uncoordinated to the same watering hole he had just used.

A wave of vertigo hit me, and I leaned against the wall for support.

Man. I thought my last hangover sucked. This shit's on a whole new level.

Garak cupped his hands, then dipped them into the water.

“You better not have me drink that shit—” My voice cut off as water splashed against my skin.

“Not for drinking.” He cracked a grin. “Only for cleaning.”

The water dribbled down my body, cooling my overheated skin.

“God, that feels good." My stomach rumbled, and then did a flip-flop. "I just might puke.” The idea of puking all over Garak filled my head and made me laugh out loud.

“Puke?” He cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy, making me laugh some more.

“Vomit,” I said, and then acted out the motion for him, which he got quickly but didn’t seem happy about. If anything, a look of concern washed over his handsome features. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Maybe then you’d learn to leave me out of your rituals. Shit. I don't need any more of that happy juice.”

Water dripped to the ground, filling the cracks at my feet, and then it spread outward as the earthy lines started to glow.

“Oh, fuck, what now?” I glanced at Garak wide-eyed. “I think I’m tripping again.”

“Relax. The effects will ware off soon.” He dipped his hands inside the water again, and dribbled more water over me, making me sigh with relief.

My skin tingled, and droplets of water trickled over my body, washing away the salt, pain, heat, and stickiness.

“Hmm... A girl could get use to this.” My lids grew heavy, and I leaned against Garak’s side. "Being taken care of."

He scooped up more water, and I arched backward into his arms.

*Oh, fuck. That feels good.*

Garak proceeded to run his hands over my body, making me moan with delight.

The water hit my hair, and Garak’s fingers combed the tangles out.

“Yep. A girl could really get used to this kind of treatment.” I sighed. “What if I told you to...” The words fell from my lips, and a sense of deja vu hit me hard. “...to kiss me.”

“Is that what you want?” He held me in his warm embrace, and this time, I relaxed into his arms.

“Uh-huh...” I closed my eyes. “Kiss me.”

My lips parted in anticipation.

His mouth captured mine. With slow, deliberate strokes, his tongue prodded the seam of my lips, parting them, and then he fucked my mouth with his tongue.

The tension in my stomach released, and my head cleared. Instead of fire, there was a warm, fuzzy feeling that spread outward from my core.

Garak rose to full height and moved behind me, pressing his body against mine. A kiss was the last thing on his mind, but the primal need to claim me again was written all over his face.

He grabbed his shaft, stroking every delectable inch of his hard cock.

Maybe it was the residual effects of the drink talking, or the fact I didn’t need to think about the alien world around me anymore, but I wanted to feel every inch of him inside me, filling me with his heat and every drop of his seed.

Garak guided me to the back of the den, then stood me on a stone slab.

The only light in the room came from the glowing cracks in the earth, casting eerie, dancing shadows on Garak’s face. His eyes had an almost feral shine to them, and I placed a tentative hand on his chest, feeling the raw power beneath his skin.

“Don’t look at me like I’m a piece of meat,” I said, though my voice lacked the force I wanted it to have. It was more of a plea than a command.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he continued to stroke his hard shaft. It stood rigid and proud, a blatant declaration of his carnal desire.

My breath caught in my throat, and a rush of heat surged through my already overwrought body.

“Oh, fuck. You can’t be serious right now,” I muttered, more to myself than to him. But, of course, he was serious. He was always serious. “We just fucked all night long.”

"And?" He rubbed his tip, spreading pre-cum over the head. His gaze never left mine, and I could see the hunger in his eyes. It wasn’t just lust; it was a need to consume, to take me in and make me a part of him. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, and I knew he was holding himself back, waiting for some sign from me.

“No. Nope. Uh-uh. I’m not a piece of meat,” I said, trying one last time to convince him—or maybe to convince myself. After all, I was rather sore.

Garak took a step forward, closing the short distance between us. I leaned back, my body teetering on the edge of a decision I wasn’t ready to make.

“Well, fuck me. I am meat,” I said, and the words felt like a release, an acceptance of the inevitable.