Hello, alien lovers!

In my original outline, this chapter was the midpoint of the story. I was trying to emulate a typical romance story structure, which I ended up doing by having Salvatore and Maple's first kiss be the midpoint of the book instead (Chapter 25).

I realized Maple's barriers and boundaries were too big for her to go from "no, I can't, he's my employee" to kissing and fucking Salvatore in just one chapter (spoiler alert: Chapter 32 is another NSFW chapter unless you like reading smut at work, and in that case, have fun!). It needed to be a gradual shift, so I moved their kiss to an earlier chapter, giving myself more time to build some of that sexual tension.

Enjoy!
lunus 🩷

If you're new to the story, start with Chapter 1

If you missed the last chapter, Previously on Perilous Love Stars

With nineteen bedrooms to choose from, Maple and Salvatore went their separate ways outside of the third floor elevator—the “guest floor” as shouted by Daphne, a last order before she had disappeared on the second floor, which was her “fucking floor!” 

Maple had chosen a spacious bedroom with blue walls and comfy armchairs. She’d taken a hot shower to scrub away the dirt of the shabby pool water and the stress of the day. The bathroom was filled with artisanal soaps, candles, and lotions. It was luxurious and clean, and Maple wondered why Daphne had all these toiletries available when she’d made it clear she didn’t want any guests in her mansion. 

 Maple didn’t turn on the crystal chandelier hanging from the engraved ceiling. It was too bright. She lit a few candles, placing them around the room before she lay down on the king-size bed. She felt her body sink in the embrace of the most comfortable mattress she’d ever experienced. Again, she asked herself why everything was set up to make guests feel welcomed when the host had made her disdain for visitors well known.

Something else about today’s whirlwind was taunting Maple. Daphne’s reaction, or lack thereof, to Salvatore’s powers. The actress hadn’t questioned the impossible wall of water or wondered how Maple and Salvatore had bypassed the water around the island or the wall encircling the property. Had Daphne been too drunk to notice or hadn’t she been bothered to? Or was the actress desensitized to alien shenanigans after spending years married to a scientist who had spent the last decade of his life studying them?

Daphne was nothing like what she’d expected, and Maple wasn’t sure how to approach the actress tomorrow morning. Her speech about people’s adoration for Daphne had made some impact, proven by the fact that Maple wasn’t dead, sleeping in the SUV or in a shitty motel room for the first time in a week. But would that be enough to change Daphne’s mind? She wasn’t sure. Using Ms. Parvière as emotional bait would only take her so far. 

Maple glanced at the bedside clock, a wooden antiquity with gold finishes. It was two in the morning. How long did she have before breakfast—what even was breakfast time for Daphne? What time did drunks usually wake up at? Maple rarely drank, and when she did, she comatosed for ten to fifteen hours the following day. If Daphne relished her beauty sleep, Maple had at least six more hours to explore the house and find everything she could on Daphne Dutrignon. She knew the public persona the actress had put forward all those years, but the real Daphne was strikingly different. Had Daphne always been that way, and people hadn’t wanted to see or admit it because she was a star, or had the heartbreak of losing her husband turned her bitter? Whatever the answer was, it might be inside this house.

From what Maple had seen of the mansion so far, it felt like a museum. Two of the five living rooms she’d passed had old portraits of Dutrignon as a young star debuting as Adele Betterave. Shelves and shelves were filled with awards and mementos from the past. Pictures, letters from fans and famous friends (Who read those to Daphne?), as well as souvenirs taken from the set like the gun Adele had used to stop Roger Ferrari, the nefarious dairy-free consultant who’d poisoned the supply of milk and cream during the first and only annual Betterave Town’s Milk & Cream Festival, causing a widespread erotic fever that had resulted in a town-wide orgy in a storyline Forever Soapy had called, “Audaciously random!”

Maple draped herself in one the many opulent cotton robes she found in the closet. She chose puffy midnight blue slippers from a collection of comfy house shoes and left her room, deciding to find anything that’d help her morning plea. Daphne’s choice of decoration for her mansion proved that she cared about the show. All Maple had to do was find something that would help her convince the star to come back.

She visited a few bedrooms first and found nothing. All of them were clean and ready to welcome guests, but there was nothing in them that Maple could use to convince Daphne. Going through three different living rooms next, she came to the same conclusion. The mementos were all work related, with plenty more letters  about the shows from famous friends and fans, but nothing personal. When the clock in the fourth living room Maple was exploring hit the 5 AM mark, she opted for a change of tactic.

She stopped by the kitchen to brew some coffee, silently thanking Daphne for having a cupboard stocked with more variety of caffeine than Sobriquet Lake’s coffee shop, Emergencia: Café Brûlant! The kitchen was equipped with the latest coffee machine model, but Maple went for a worn-out moka pot that she filled with a strong coffee blend. The intense, familiar smell filled the space as the liquid brewed, soothing Maple’s growing anxiety. She found almond and coconut milk in the fridge, choosing to interpret that as a sign she was meant to be here and that she was on track to fulfill her insane mission.

Once the hot drink was ready, Maple made her way to the biggest room she had yet to explore: the library on the ground floor. They’d passed it on their way to the elevator earlier, and it’d struck Maple to see a room filled with so many books she knew Daphne couldn’t read.

The library was large compared to the other rooms she’d visited and had floor-to-ceiling bookcases lining up the walls. A stout, sizable oak desk occupied most of the room while two upholstered velvet couches made up the rest of the furniture. There was a thin layer of dust on the parquet. Maple realized it was the only room she’d visited that hadn’t been recently cleaned.

She put her steaming cup on the desk and got to work. She rummaged through books, pulling some at random, flipping through the ones with promising titles. They were all about human science. Charles was an alien expert, or at least the closest thing to an expert by human standards. Renowned Swiss scientist, he’d built his research career on degenerative diseases before transitioning to studying alien and alien DNA for the decade preceding his death. In that time, he’d published five books about the subject, all of which Maple owned and had studied extensively. Surprisingly, Charles had never made the connection between alien DNA and degenerative disease, which would have been helpful for Salvatore’s mysterious condition. Maple found it strange that none of the books in this library were about aliens. Charles had studied them for ten years, why wasn’t any of that work reflected here?

By the time Maple went back to her drink, it’d cooled down enough for her to take a few sips. She allowed for the warm, bitter liquid to comfort her. She hadn’t figured out her next step yet, but, hopefully, she still had time before breakfast.

“Can’t sleep, Boss?”

The voice startled her, almost making her drop her cup.  She turned to see Salvatore standing at the library’s entrance. 

“Hi,” she said, her voice hoarse with fatigue. “I didn’t… I didn’t think anyone else was awake.”

He’d showered and put on a black tank top and trousers that weren’t his. There was probably lots of available clothing around the mansion, and she felt self-conscious of the simple robe covering her naked body.

“I can’t sleep,” he said, showing his left hand. It was glowing. “I’m afraid I won’t be there when I wake up.”

Fuck.

The very last thing they needed was for the alien teenagers to wreak havoc during what Maple had started to think as their swan song to save Betteraves & Betrayals. Daphne had agreed to one breakfast, that was it. Red, Yellow, and Blue would ruin it for all of them with their rowdiness and tendencies for emotional outbursts. 

Maple gestured at the room and the hundred of books it contained. “I was trying to see if there was anything we could use to convince Daphne to come back or if I could find some information to help you. But it’s all about human science.”

Salvatore closed the gap between them, a new scent accompanying him. Apple and cedar, probably from one of Daphne’s luxurious body products. Maple found herself missing his familiar smell of tobacco and cinnamon. It’d become like an anchor for her during the chaos of the past few days.

“That’s too bad.” Salvatore’s voice was husky. Maple recognized the glimmers in his eyes, a primal craving for skin contact.

She stepped away from him and instantly regretted it when a flash of disappointment traversed his eyes. 

“Maybe I should go back to my room,” he said.

“No.” Her voice was decisive. The word echoed in the silence of the room. “We can’t take the risk of an alien divide.”

“What do you propose, then, Boss?”

“Maybe we could help each other.” Maple slowly untied her robe before she could think better of it. It tugged open, revealing her naked body. “I have a lot of anxiety building up. We both could use a release.”

He gave her a carnivorous grin while his gaze took all of her in. She was putting herself on display for him even after all the reasons she’d given herself not to partake in the dangerous seduction game they’d been playing. But how actually dangerous was giving in? They’d been shot at yesterday, and she’d almost drowned. There was still a killer on the loose after her. Those were real dangers. Salvatore and his lies seemed small next to that. She could die at any moment. Daphne could change her mind at any moment and shoot them, claiming self-defence. Life was short and dangerous. Maple had never shied away from danger or challenges before. Maybe she didn’t have to now. Just like that night at the hotel, she deserved some fun and a release. If that would prevent another alien divide, that’d be an added bonus.

“I really want to touch you,” he said. His eyes moved, following Maple’s curves, stopping at her breasts. “There are a lot of things I’d like to do to you.”

“What's stopping you?” she asked, breathless, already conceding to the growing desire inside of her.

That desire had always been there—it was always there. She’d tried to switch it on and off, to channel it in her work. But the scorching yearning to be held, to be fucked, to allow herself to play and explore the limits of her pleasure—that always burned in a corner of Maple’s being. It was a fire that couldn’t be tamed, especially when Salvatore was near. 

“You’ve been giving me some mixed signals,” he said, not unkindly. “There was the kiss you didn’t want to talk about. Then, the phone call—”

“And what a phone call that was,” she said, wanting to guide the conversation away from her previous reluctance. The fire in her was too big, too bright. She wanted a release, and she wanted it now.

His grin stretched out. “There’s so much I want to do to you, Maple.”

She raised her chin, meeting his eyes. Brazen. “Then, do it.”

“Not without your express consent.”

“You have my consent.”

Salvatore titled his head, curious and playful. “To do what?”

“Kiss me.”

“And what if that makes you fall for me?” he asked, referring to their earlier conversation.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” she responded, echoing his words from before. 

“Not for me.”

“Kiss me,” she asked again.

Salvatore gently grabbed her neck, pulling her into a kiss. His lips found hers, then his hands were on Maple’s waist. He drank her in as he lifted her to the desk, placing himself between her legs. He pushed into her, the soft fabric of his clothes rubbing on Maple’s bare skin. 

“Salvatore,” she managed to gasp between kisses.

His left hand was securing her into a passionate kiss while his right caressed her inner thigh. 

“Yes, Boss?”

How could she tell him how much she wanted this? She’d spent the past few days repressing the lust she felt for him, following years of repressing the sexual needs and desires that made her ablaze. She had always wanted to prioritize her work, afraid that anything else, especially something as powerful as her sexual needs, would lead her astray. How did one break free of all that resistance?

“Use your words,” he commanded, trailing kisses down her cheek, chin, and throat. 

She grabbed onto him, berthing herself into his embrace. “I want you.”

“I know that,” she heard the amusement in his voice. “What do you want me to do to you?” 

The question brought chills to Maple. The answer, already formulated, burst out of her. “Fuck me on this desk. Right here, right now.”

“Yes, Boss.”

Without any warning, he kneeled in front of her, tenderly pushing her legs wide open, exposing Maple’s vulva. Salvatore stared at it, licking his lips. Ravenous hunger consumed him as he extended his tongue to lick her clitoris.

A shriek of pleasure scratched her throat. She held it in, self-conscious. When Salvatore lapped at her, using his tongue as a tool of rapture, Maple couldn’t contain herself. She whimpered.

“Yes, that’s it,” Salvatore praised. “I want to hear you, Boss.”

She laid back on the desk, abandoning herself to the sensations he ignited within her. The slick and warm feeling of his saliva on her clit, the movement of his tongue. Maple’s climax slowly built to a crescendo. 

He said something she didn’t understand. She gripped the edge of the desk, keeping herself as steady as possible as he continued eating her out.

“Maple.”  Her name echoed between pulses of intense pleasure. “Maple?” Salvatore repeated.  

She found it difficult to speak, to organize thoughts. “Yes?”

“I really want to be inside of you right now. But I don’t have lube.” 

The simple notion of having Salvatore inside of her made Maple squirm. Her legs tightened on his shoulders, her heels anchoring on his muscled back. 

“Lube,” she reiterated, trying to access the part of her brain in charge of problem-solving. 

Her lube was in her suitcase, which was in the SUV. She had been too preoccupied by her mission to think of bringing it with her. She was completely unprepared to get fucked on this desk.

“I don’t think I have lube," she said while Salvatore tenderly stroked her clit, sparking off additional whines from her.

Saliva wasn’t a sustainable lubricant, years of living and fucking as a trans woman had taught Maple that much. She didn’t doubt Salvatore’s skills, and she’d be fine if there was no penetration but… but she really wanted it. She wanted him inside of her, right here, right now.

“Let’s see what I can do,” he said.

She opened her eyes and tipped her head to meet his as he spat on her pussy, pushing one of his fingers inside of her, coating her insides with saliva. 

The pressure sent Maple reeling back. She moaned, encouraging his touch. 

“Saliva dries out,” Salvatore continued, his voice gruff with pleasure. “But maybe with some alien magic…” 

A second finger entered Maple. She thrusted forward, biting her bottom lip to hold back a scream.

“Don’t hold back, Boss, please,” Salvatore begged, moving his fingers inside of her, waiting out the reactions to his touch before carrying on, trying out different rhythms. 

A new tingle erupted between Maple’s legs. She glanced at Salvatore and saw he’d taken his fingers out of her. But she could still feel a throb between her legs. 

“How—”

Her words evaporated on his lips. He kissed her passionately, using both of his hands to lift himself to her level. Then, without breaking their kiss, he pushed himself inside of her. She hadn’t noticed him taking his pants off and didn’t care. Salvatore stretched her out with his thick dick, slowly, patiently, kissing her again and again, asking nothing out of Maple but for her to trust his body to pleasure her.

He glided deeper into her, and the dryness she expected didn’t come. Maple noticed Salvatore was keeping his left hand opened and palmed up, a twitch between his eyebrows. He was somehow using his hydrokinesis power to ensure a pleasurable experience for her, to keep her all lubed up for him. 

“How—” she asked again, just to be shut up by a deep impulse from his waist. He grunted, accelerating his thrusts into her. 

“You feel so good,” he said.

Maple had no words to express how great Salvatore felt inside of her. She realized she didn’t need to. All she had to do was close her eyes and enjoy the ride. She didn’t care about being loud or making a mess. All she could think about was his dick inside of her, fucking her, loving her, giving her body everything she’d asked for.

When his fingers closed on her nipples, she shuddered and whimpered, taking all of him in, letting Salvatore be in charge. He twisted her nipples in rhythm with his measured thrust, and she forgot all about his lies and her rules.

For now, she’d let him claim her climax. She deserved that much.