Tempted by Celestial Bodies

Chapter 3

chapter three

anya

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“What the fuck?” I hiss into the silence. This time, instead of my voice offering some kind of comfort, its echo exacerbates my hysteria.

It’s an alien. There is a fucking alien in my room, and he did something weird to my mind, like some kind of telepathy but with images and feelings instead of words, and…holy shit.

He’s completely naked. Naked and unconscious and weirdly humanoid—totally unlike what we’ve found evidence of on other worlds.

His body is roped in lean muscle, like a swimmer, and his skin is moonstone pale—paler than mine—with a soft, velvety sheen to it. Long, powder blue hair falls just below his shoulders, or it would, if it wasn’t currently obscuring his insensate face. I hold my breath and gently pull it back, taking in an angular jaw, brutally sharp cheekbones, full, lush lips and a long aquiline nose dusted with a spray of glowing, bioluminescent freckles.

He looks like blue starlight made human.

Suddenly, his brow furrows and he shifts slightly, and I yank my hand away as if I’ve been scalded. I twist back to my bed and grab my wrench, brandishing it in front of me, but the sleeping cerulean being does not wake.

Biting my lip, I devise a quick course of action. I’m reasonably certain he doesn’t mean to kill me, given he had the opportunity to do so and ended up on his knees before me instead, but since I don’t know what the hell he’s doing here or why he’s more nude than Venus on a clamshell, I need to be smart about this.

Glancing around, I pull my wheeled office chair out from my desk and yank a length of cable from the spare parts I keep on my workstation table.

“I’m going to tie you up,” I say softly, though I hope he doesn’t come to. It’s possible, nay probable, I’ve completely lost it now and am experiencing fully tactile hallucinations, but I guess it doesn’t hurt to be polite. “I’m sorry if that freaks you out.”

I heft his body into the office chair, keeping my wrench in my line of sight the entire time. Still, he doesn’t stir. A traitorous thrill buzzes through me when I touch his skin—the most contact I’ve had with anyone or anything in months. I catch myself inhaling at the crook of his neck. The scent of his skin is faintly saline, as if he just stepped out of the ocean. The buried, wild part of me has a suicidal urge to lick him, but I stumble back in horror when I realize how messed up that compulsion is.

After tying his wrists to the chair’s arms, I bend to tie his feet to the legs and—wow. Wow. Ugh…is it weird that I’m scoping out this creature’s dick? I’m only human, after all, and it’s been such a long time, and none of my boyfriends have been quite that blessed.

“Congrats,” I mumble, startling myself. “Sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get an eyeful of your dick. It’s just…it is right there! And it’s glowing blue! And…buddy, are you already semi-hard?”

The awkward, incredulous words tumble from my lips before I can quarantine them behind my sanity barrier. Shaking myself, I finish tying the alien to the chair and sit back to study him again. Uneasily, I toss a blanket across his lap to cover some of his nudity, despite acknowledging that his nudity is pretty pleasant to witness. There’s a nasty cut on his forehead, arcing down across his left eyebrow and syrupy, glow stick-like blood drips down his cheek.

“That looks bad,” I say with a wince. “I hope you don’t have acid blood like in Alien .”

I swipe a mostly clean rag across it and when the rag doesn’t disintegrate, I’m mollified. Resigned, I decide to take him to the med bay to patch him up. Who knows how he’ll react when he comes to? Maybe if I help him out a little, he won’t want to abduct me for terrifying experiments, or whatever it is these aliens do.

As I wheel my unconscious intruder down the corridor, several thoughts occur to me simultaneously.

One, it’s likely this alien is the reason for the other two dead aliens in my cryo-freezer, and two, it’s probably a good thing I didn’t contact Earth Nova , because I’ve obviously lost my ever-loving mind. Yesterday, my day was normal. I was normal. A little tired and a little lonely, sure, but otherwise normal. And today?

Today I’ve got two dead aliens in the freezer and a third one strapped to my desk chair, rolling with a comical squeak down an otherwise silent hallway in a soon-to-be terraformed resort on the goddamned moon.

Manic laughter stutters out from me as I reach the sealed doors to the med bay and swipe my badge. When the doors slide closed and the too-bright lights kick on, my mystery guest finally huffs a breath and rolls his head back. I tense, gripping my wrench tighter. Fear and agitation have me primed to clobber this thing faster than you can say anal probe .

The alien’s head lolls on his chest before he lifts it blearily, blinking up at me with eyes the same bioluminescent blue as his freckles. A wide, sultry smile plays upon his lips and heat of unmistakable intent flickers in his gaze.

I aim my wrench at his chest.

“I’m going to ask you some questions,” I say, as calmly as I can.

The alien blinks.

“Can you understand me?” I ask.

He tilts his head to the side, examining me with interest, then nods.

Yes .

But he doesn’t speak it—his lips remain closed in that almost-cocky grin. It’s not really a word, so much as it’s a feeling. The sensation of agreement takes shape in the back of my mind—a foreign presence that leaves me further untethered from reality.

“Can you speak?” I ask.

I do not know. I have never tried.

“Okay, this is really fucking weird,” I mutter to myself. “Obviously, this is a new level of hallucination for me. Hey! You better not be rooting around in my head.”

His grin falters, and he looks appalled by the thought.

I would never attempt such an invasion, Exalted One.

“Exalted One?” I echo. Must be a weird translation thing. “Right, well, good. Let’s get down to it. Who are you and what the fuck are you doing here?”

The alien looks puzzled by my questions, which bodes ill for me. We haven’t even gotten to the tough ones yet.

I am of the Oseuthans. But you know this, My Goddess. It is your divine guidance which has called me here. Do you show me favor with this gift of cloth?

His nods to the blanket in his lap and I stare at him, my eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“First of all, it’s not a gift of cloth, it’s a blanket. You showed up here totally naked and that’s unnerving as far as introductions go. Second, I’ve never heard of Oh-soo-thans. Third, that’s a real sweet term of endearment and all, but at no point have I ever offered anything that could be considered divine guidance. I can’t even give sound advice, because I am clearly not of sound mind anymore.”

He appears confused at first, then shakes his head.

This is no hallucination, Beloved One. No, you brought me here. I offered you my pledge, remember? I mean to worship you with gifts of sacrifice and pleasure.

“Your pledge? Sacrifice? Are you telling me you’re not here to abduct me?”

The alien’s eyes widen in fear and surprise.

Does My Goddess wish to be abducted?

I’m not considering it—of course I’m not. I’ve worked too hard to get to where I’m at, right? Who wouldn’t want to stick around in a lonely tin can stuck on the moon when a hot, possibly radioactive alien offers you a ticket to the stars? I swallow thickly and check to see if my bio-cuff indicates some kind of brain bleed.

“Abducted…no! And you’ve got it wrong there, pal. I’m no goddess; I’m just a human. A lone mechanical engineer whose job it is to get this station up and running,” I explain, unnerved by this obvious case of mistaken identity.

Mechanical engineer? Is that the name of this divine aspect?

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I whisper, more to myself than to him. This is nuts. I am having some kind of mental breakdown and am going to need to be sedated. “No, engineer is a job. It’s my profession.”

The alien’s shoulders sag with relief.

That is good. I do not wish to waste time now that the ritual has begun. I had hoped you would find this form I have chosen pleasing.

“Form? This isn’t what you normally look like?” I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me. If this is insanity, maybe I should just go with it.

He nods again, and then an image condenses in my mind’s eye.

I’m floating in a warm, fathomless sea. All around me, massive gelatinous blobs decked with glittering rainbow tentacles drift together as one. Sunlight filters in through waves above me and all around, bizarre fish and invertebrates dart through huge coral and rock pillars.

“Whoa,” I breathe. “That’s you? You’re like, giant space jellyfish!”

He tilts his head again, and this time he reminds me of a bewildered puppy. It’s oddly endearing. What the hell am I saying? I ask myself. I can’t be thinking the figment of my psychotic mind is endearing. Or hot. Definitely not hot.

I do not know this jellyfish. I must say, Venerable Sindaria, your responses to my pledge have me…perplexed.

“You’re not the only one,” I say. “Right, let’s start there. My name isn’t Sindaria. It’s Anya. I’m not a goddess. I’m a human, from Earth. See? That rocky brown planet just outside the window? That’s where I’m from originally. Lately, we’ve all been hanging out on colony ships, though, because our home world can’t support life anymore.”

Realization seems to dawn, because the hot alien frowns up at me.

You…you did not devastate that world with your brutal wrath?

“Sorry, buddy. It took generations of humans to wreak that kind of havoc. I don’t even like killing spiders. Well, I didn’t, anyway, before they all died out.”

That is not something the Goddess of Death and Carnal Pleasures would say.

My face twists in sympathy, but he continues.

…unless she were truly testing my devotion. Beautiful Sindaria, I will not fail you.

I blow out a resigned sigh.

“Do you have a name, jelly guy?” I ask.

A name? We are the Oseuthans.

“No, I mean you personally,” I say. “Like, my name is Anya, not Sindaria. Anya.”

I see. If you wish to be called Anya, I will do as you ask, My Terrifying One. Glorious Anya, we do not need names. The Oseuthans are linked in consciousness. We are all Brother to each other.

“I’ve got to have something to call you, unless you want me to keep calling you Jelly Guy,” I gripe.

I would be honored to receive any name you would offer me.

“Sure. Fine,” I say, wracking my brain. Long-forgotten memories of high school biology surface. “You know, the Latin name for moon jelly is aurelia aurita . How about Leo for short?”

Leo. Yes. This pleases me. Thank you, Divine Anya.

“It’s just Anya, Leo. Anya the human.”

Just Anya. You are more than “just” anything, My Goddess, but I will honor your wish. Anya.

He smiles again, his long hair falling forward and sticking in the blood on his face. A flinch of surprise and pain tugs at his features.

“Can I help clean that up? I don’t know if you’re susceptible to the same infections that humans get, but I wouldn’t want it to fester,” I say.

Leo’s lower lip quivers in a sad little pout and his eyes flick to the ground. My heart lurches in my chest.

I have had this form for such a short period of time, and I have already damaged it. I do not deserve your care or your mercy, Div—Anya.

“Tell you what. I’ll get you bandaged up and you can tell me more about why you’re here, why you’re naked, and what the hell this ritual is all about. Then I’ll decide if I’m going to untie you or stick you in the cryo-freezer with your two dead buddies,” I offer, waving my wrench menacingly before I put it down on the table behind me. Keeping one eye on him, I turn to pull a first aid kit from one of the drawers.

Leo’s luminous blue eyes seem to get brighter as he sits up. He grins again, this time flashing teeth that are faintly pointed—halfway between shark teeth and blunt human teeth. I shiver, but don’t know if it’s from fear or interest.

I’m here for you, My Anya. Every fifty-two spans on Oseuth, my brethren and I set forth on a great pilgrimage to honor our gods and goddesses. I am one of the brothers who primarily honor you—Fearsome and Desirable Sindaria, Goddess of Death and Carnal Pleasure. We search universes across space and time until we find a corporeal aspect Sindaria inhabits, and we spend the next thirteen cycles performing our honoring ritual.

I swipe a cotton pad doused with antiseptic across the cut. I expect him to react, but the pain doesn’t seem to register. Leo simply stares up at me with dreamlike wonder. It’s utterly intoxicating. I’ve never been thought of as a catch before, let alone a goddess, and even if he’s barking up the wrong tree, it strokes my ego in just the right way. Clearing my throat and stepping back, I pull out a small bandage.

“Well, um, the good news is the cut on your head doesn’t look too bad,” I say, embarrassed to be enjoying my descent into madness as much as I am. I press the bandage against his wound and absently stroke one fingertip against the impossibly soft skin of his cheek.

Leo tilts his head into my touch.

You have not mentioned my first two sacrifices. My gifts to you, so that you may feast upon the flesh of unworthy males. It is how the ritual begins.

“You mean the dead things out left outside? Yeah, that was really gross. I stuck them in the cryo-freezer. I’m not going to eat them,” I grumble. “But, uh, thank you.”

His too-beautiful face falls and as I watch, the cables tying him to the chair melt away, as if they’re being corroded by acid. Holy shit. Before I can turn and run, Leo falls to the floor in front of me, bowing down so far, his forehead rests on the floor and his hair spills out around my feet. The blanket slides from his lap to the floor, forgotten. Oh, wow.

Forgive me, Venerable One. I should have found more worthy sacrifices for you. You deserve the finest of everything. I offer you my own body to use as you see fit. Punish me, if you will—let my pain sate your wonderfully cruel appetites.

Well, shit. I’ve made a huge misstep. I didn’t mean to offend the poor guy, but I can’t have him unearthing galactic horrors and showing up with them like some fucked up bouquet of flowers. But…it’s probably not a great idea to antagonize an alien who can melt twelve-gauge cables from mere skin contact.

“I mean, um. Leo, your sacrifices were wonderful. You did great, champ, you really did. I just wanted to save them for later, okay? That’s why they’re in the freezer. You didn’t displease me, but just…no more killing. Cool?”

He peeks up at me through the curtain of glittering blue hair.

“That was a neat little trick with the cords,” I huff nervously. “How’d you do that?”

I still retain many of my abilities, even in this form. I may look human, but I am still Oseuthan.

“Abilities. Right. So, I was right to worry about the acid blood, I guess,” I mutter.

You have nothing to fear from me, human goddess Anya .

He slowly lifts his head and sits back on his heels. In this position, it’s hard not to notice the way his lean muscles flex beneath his velvety skin. His muscular thighs and sculpted abdomen appear more in line with a Grecian marble than what I pictured on an extraterrestrial humanoid.

“Tell me more about the ritual,” I say in a rush, hoping he doesn’t notice the blush stealing across my cheeks.

It is your ritual. He smiles coyly at me and something predatory enters his electric gaze again.

“Humor me,” I all but shout, suddenly feeling very warm in my thin pajamas.

Six cycles of flesh and blood. Six cycles of pain and pleasure. One cycle of death.

The panic that has been strangely absent for this conversation rips through me again. I back away from him slowly, groping behind me for my wrench.

“So much for having nothing to fear from you! Blood? Pain? Death? You better start explaining yourself, or you’re about to become a sexy alien cryo-popsicle,” I snarl.

I do not understand many of these words, My Anya, or why you would have me explain your own ritual to you. If it is to test me and ensure I know my sacred texts, I am happy to oblige.

Leo rises slowly and steps forward, palms raised in a gesture of submission.

The six cycles of flesh and blood are meant to provide sustenance to your chosen form and sate the first of your divine appetites. Slake your thirst for the blood of cruel, unworthy males and feast on their traitorous flesh. We priests must bring these to you. We search galaxies for them.

I nod, lowering my wrench slightly. That’s not great, but at least I’m not on the menu.

“Okay, so you bring me bad guys to eat. What next? Pain and pleasure? What’s that all about?” I ask, surprised by my own breathlessness.

He takes another step in my direction, the slow movement like a graceful predator trying not to startle its prey. Desire burns in his luminous gaze, and the smile he gives me is sin itself.

Can you not guess, My Goddess?

The very last shred of rational thought is snuffed out like a spent match, leaving a trail of heated lust in its wake. He reaches up to run a finger across my lips and the gentle, exploratory touch paralyzes me with an onslaught of emotions: confusion, excitement, wariness, and above all, instinctive, brutal lust.

“And the cycle of death?” I hear myself whispering.

He’s a breath from me now, sliding his fingers through my hair, scraping nails against my scalp. My hair comes loose and falls around my shoulders, and he makes an odd noise of approval in his throat—almost like a purr.

This body has sensory receptors everywhere. One might die from the pleasure of sensation alone.

His fingers tighten in my hair, pulling just enough to tip my mouth up to his and send bolts of desire arcing through my entire body. Heat pools between my legs and I swallow a whimper.

“D-d-die?” I stammer, dangerously close to his lips. “Does that mean you’re going to kill me, after all?”

What is pleasure without a little death?

“I hope you’re referring to orgasms,” I breathe. Honestly, I don’t know that I care at this point. Being fucked to death by a hot alien is probably better than a lifetime of loneliness on a lunar space station.

I sense you’re amenable to the idea, my Anya. Do you wish to proceed with the ritual?

Leo’s hand snakes down from my scalp to my neck, then traces my breasts through the thin fabric of my pajamas. My nipples harden instantly, and this time I can’t stop the moan that gives sound to my need. Proceed with the ritual? What the hell am I getting myself into?

Cool, firm fingertips find their way beneath my shirt and stroke my abdomen, sliding low to the waistband of my pants.

Give me leave to worship you, My Goddess. My Anya. Show me how you want to be touched, tell me the words you wish to hear, let me fill your body with unbearable pleasure until you feel as if this flesh will come apart at the seams. Only then will I fuck you—only then will our bodies join. Only then will I paint this holy human body with my release.

With the onslaught of images and sensations he’s broadcasting through my brain, I’m about to go out of my mind with sexual need. Some distant part of my brain keeps reminding me about the aforementioned death involved in this ritual, but would it be so bad to enjoy being worshipped in bed for a little while? Logic says yes, but my libido drowns it out with the drumbeat of fiery passion flowing to my erogenous zones.

Leo leans into me, sliding his hands down the curves of my ass. He pulls me against him, and I feel the firmness of his erection pressing against my stomach, igniting the primal part of my brain that can only focus on one thing. His wild smile takes on a feral edge and he dips his head to lick the sensitive skin beneath my ear.

Tell me yes, My Anya. Tell me yes, and then show me what this body can do.