8. Isla

His body was a dream.

Hard and lean, it was like something from a fitness magazine.

His every touch sent bolts of lightning through my body, screaming across every inch of skin.

His lips were magnets that constantly drew me in.

I felt them with my tongue and absorbed his tongue in return.

He had been patient with me, holding back until I was ready.

Well, now I was ready.

Ready to be Claimed by him, taken by him.

It felt so right, despite the weird situation I had found myself in.

It felt so good to have him so close, to have his cool scaly skin pressing against me, to have his golden eyes fixed on mine, drilling into me.

The word "Yes" was on my lips before I even knew it.

And as he kissed my cheeks and down my throat, I pressed my hands to his back, and the word was there again in breathless gasps:

"Yes, yes, yes."

He lifted up my blouse and pecked at my breasts, finding my nipples, hard and stiff, ready for him to take into his mouth and savor them, rolling his tongue over them and biting gently but firmly on them.

I held his head in mine, his majestic horns like a pilot's steering wheel, and I held onto them as he caressed me.

His powerful arm reached down and rubbed at my sex, gently at first before building in speed.

My hips bucked as he slid his hand under my pants and found my wet mound beneath his fingertips.

I gasped as he rubbed his hand back and forth, the word "Yes" once more on my lips.

Then he slid a finger inside me and I leaned my head back, releasing my hold on his horns to let him have his way with me.

He rubbed at me hard, firm, bringing a sweat to my body.

His eyes remained fixed on mine the entire time as he brought me to orgasm.

My brow creased and I wrapped a hand around his wrist, not to stop him or slow him down, but to encourage him to keep going.

"Yes," I moaned, and this time I knew I was close. "Yes, yes…"

My eyes fluttered and rolled into the back of my head, a fresh sheen devleoping on my body as my whole body reacted to his gentle caress.

I screamed as the orgasm was extracted from me.

Then, so as not to lose momentum, he pulled down his pants, his enormous cock thudding on the bedspread.

His eyes flicked up at me just once, asking for permission, but he needn't have asked.

I was his.

But I nodded my head and gasped a breathy "Yes" anyway.

And he slid inside me.

He braced my legs and spread them out to either side as there was no way he could fit between them otherwise.

I groaned as I took him and was shocked when I looked down to see I had managed to take every inch of that enormous member.

Thillak leaned down to ease me up so I was resting on my elbows, looking up at him.

He lowered his lips to mine and his kiss was so gentle it was barely even there.

And then his hips began to dance.

Slow and hypnotic, it was all I could do to stay conscious.

And suddenly, it was like a portal gate opening up, not only on my pleasure, but on the past — our pasts — and I sensed I had felt him inside me before.

Many times.

I almost wept at the realization that everything he told me was true.

But it was just a feeling, a sense, that we were meant to be together.

I still had no memories of us together, no past experience I could put my finger on.

But that sensation…

It was out of this world.

Thillak grunted through his flared nostrils, looking every bit like the monster he appeared on the outside and not the caring soul I knew him to be.

His eyes turned glassy and shone red.

He had been overtaken by his passion for me.

I knew then that there was no way to get off this train — not that I wanted to!

I was at his mercy and he would have his way with me no matter what.

There was no stopping him now.

He slammed hard into me, lifting a leg and bracing it on the edge of the cot to get better leverage.

He hammered at me and brought another climax to my lips.

My hands unconsciously gripped the bedspread and in a tight fist as I screamed again.

"Yes, yes, yes!" I cried.

He picked my hips up in one smooth motion, as if I weighed nothing at all, and pulled me onto him further, deeper, penetrating me in such a way I had never been before — and knew I would never be again.

But he wasn't done yet.

He flipped me over, my ass hanging over the edge of the bed, and entered me from behind.

His huge chiseled torso leaned over me, and I felt his impressive physique on my back as the muscles tensed and he drove into me.

His face was beside mine and he turned my face toward him so our lips could join.

Then he fucked me harder and caught my cries with his mouth.

He continued to hammer at me, pushing me toward, and then violently over my limit.

And still he hammered at me.

I couldn't take it much more.

And still he piled into me.

Finally, I heard the grunt in the back of his throat and knew he must be close.

He wrapped his arms around me, one hand grabbing a handful of breast, the other around my bare shoulders.

He squeezed me, grinding himself as deeply into me as he could.

My breath hitched in my throat at him plumming me to all-new depths.

Black dots danced in my vision.

Much longer, and he was going to fuck me into unconsciousness.

He grunted again, and this time I felt his impressive member elongate, growing tight, and he moaned in ecstasy as he spilled his seed inside me.

After he was done with me, he lifted me up and placed me on the bed, covering me with the bedsheet.

His nostrils were flared and his muscles were swollen and massive.

He climbed into bed beside me and cradled me in his arms.

I had never felt so used, so excited, my entire life.

I was still panting for air ten minutes after we had made love.

I felt a true connection with him, one made of light, and I knew then that this thing we had, this relationship that spanned multiple generations, was real.

And as he kissed me gently, lovingly, on my shoulder, and his hand began to reach for my sex again, gently stroking it, I knew he was keeping my engines warm and he intended on taking full advantage of me again.

And if I didn't know better, it wouldn't be long.

I couldn't help but giggle inwardly.

Yes, I thought. My answer is, and will always be, yes.

* * *

The sunsof Ikmal cast dancing patterns across the walls of the prison, a luminescent ballet set against the backdrop of cold, lifeless concrete.

Thillak and I moved like shadows through the dimly lit corridors, our hoods pulled low, shielding our faces from prying eyes.

The sensation of his hand in mine, so large and reassuringly warm, acted as an anchor, keeping me grounded amidst the chaos and uncertainty of our surroundings.

With every step we took, the harmonious blend of Thillak's low, rhythmic heartbeat and the distant hum of the prison's generators formed a comforting symphony.

It was strange to find solace in such an environment, yet there it was, nestled between whispered secrets and stolen glances.

While the memories he described felt foreign, like stories from an ancient book, the way he recounted them gave them a vivid authenticity.

Each tale was a portal that transported me to a realm of cosmic wonders, celestial dances, and galactic escapades.

And, as though watching a play, I'd picture us: laughing amidst alien marketplaces, racing across asteroid fields, or gazing at novas from the deck of a spaceship.

Yet, even in the vast tapestry of these stories, it was the smaller moments that resonated most deeply with me: the delicate sound of our laughter echoing through the galaxies, the intoxicating scent of foreign flowers as Thillak would hand me a bouquet, or the tantalizing taste of exotic fruits shared under starlit skies.

But what made it all so maddeningly perplexing was that I couldn't recall any of it.

They felt like a dream just out of reach, a mirage that dissolved every time I tried to grasp it.

And while my mind rebelled, my heart, with its growing fondness for Thillak, wanted desperately to believe.

As we journeyed together through the maze-like corridors of the prison, sometimes he'd pull me into a secluded alcove.

With our faces still concealed by the hoods, he'd hold me close, our breaths mingling, the contours of his lips teasingly brushing against mine.

Each touch, each stolen kiss became a testament of the passion that simmered between us.

And every time we succumbed to the fire of our attraction, the touch of his lips became a bewitching elixir, his scent a seductive aroma that enveloped me, and the texture of his skin a canvas chronicling tales of eons.

The feeling of being so intimately intertwined with someone was both familiar and foreign.

While my body responded with an instinctual ardor, my mind would whirl, seeking the elusive connection to past lives.

The silky sheets against our skin, the gentle play of light and shadow, the whispered endearments, and the crescendo of our shared pleasure; each experience seemed like a puzzle piece waiting to be fitted into the grand mosaic of our shared history.

One evening, as the twin suns set, casting a rose-gold hue over the prison's exterior, Thillak and I sat atop a secluded ledge, our legs dangling over the edge.

The cool, crisp air carried with it the faint tang unique to Ikmal.

We sat in silence, the vast expanse of space before us.

It was moments like these, shrouded in stillness and serenity, that I found myself most lost in thought.

"Thillak," I began, hesitatingly. "What if I never remember? What if these memories, these lifetimes, remain locked away?"

He turned to me, his piercing gaze filled with warmth and understanding.

Drawing me closer, his voice, a gentle rumble, replied, "Whether you remember or not, Isla, we have now. We're creating new memories, new adventures. And that's all that matters."

I looked into his eyes, and for a fleeting moment, I felt a spark of something ancient, something profound.

And while the vastness of our cosmic journey still eluded me, the present moment, with its raw, palpable emotion, was more than enough.

It was real, tangible, and beautifully ours, and I didn't have to share it with anyone — not even my past or future self.

* * *

The past dayshad become a blur of intrigue and clandestine meetings.

Every time I tried to penetrate the depth of Thillak's plans, he would sidestep with a chuckle and a mysterious smile.

The days felt long, each one bleeding into the next, marked only by Thillak's soothing presence and his enigmatic comments about awaiting "something big."

"Thillak, this isn't a movie," I grumbled one day, as I attempted once again to decipher his escape plan.

‘A what?" he asked.

"We need tools, alliances, and some sort of solid strategy! You can't just… wait around."

His laugh was light and infectious. "Ah, Isla," he replied with that characteristic twinkle in his eye, "there's so much about the universe you've yet to experience. Sometimes, patience and strategy work hand in hand."

Exasperated, I tossed my hands in the air, but my frustration quickly faded as Thillak took my hand, leading me towards the upper levels of the prison.

"Come with me," he whispered.

We traversed countless corridors until we reached the observation deck.

The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing an expanse of darkness dotted with glittering jewels.

The stars stretched out infinitely before us, painting a mesmerizing tapestry against the vast canvas of space.

The room hummed softly, the gentle vibration from the prison's maintenance systems caressing my senses.

The sights, sounds, and smells grounded me, transporting me to a place of wonderment.

He stepped forward, leaning against the railing, pulling me into his embrace from behind. "Look out there, Isla. Each of those twinkling lights represents a world, a history, a story. And while you focus on the immediate, on escaping this place, my sights are set on the vast universe awaiting us."

Tears pricked my eyes as the sheer beauty of the view and his words washed over me.

Each star seemed to twinkle a bit brighter, as if reacting to our shared moment.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensation of Thillak's heartbeat against my back, the rhythmic sound acting as a grounding lullaby amidst the overwhelming expanse.

"The great dance of constellations, planets in motion, nebulae forming and dissipating… it's all a symphony of cosmic wonder," Thillak murmured, his warm breath tickling my ear. "This prison, our current circumstances, are but a fleeting note in that grand composition."

"I know," I sighed, leaning further into him. "But waiting around feels… It just feels as if we're letting our fate be dictated by someone else."

Thillak turned me around to face him, his gaze intense yet comforting. "Our fate, dear Isla, is written in those stars. Each one a chapter of our past and a beacon to our future. I promise you, when the time is right, we will dance among them. Until then, we wait for our moment."

The gentle touch of his lips upon mine tasted of promise and hope.

It was a bittersweet cocktail of longing, love, and anticipation.

I could sense the electricity in the air, the heightened tension of a story waiting to unfold.

"I just wish I knew what you're waiting for," I murmured against his lips.

He pulled back, his playful grin returning. "All in good time. But for now," he tilted his head, directing my gaze back towards the stars, "dream of the adventures we're going to have out there."

With his arm securely wrapped around me, we stood in shared silence, lost in the endless beauty of the cosmos.

The promise of freedom, exploration, and countless lifetimes of love lay ahead.

I knew in my heart that Thillak had a plan, and as I looked at the universe stretching out before us, a wave of trust and anticipation enveloped me.

In that moment, amidst the glimmering tapestry of stars, our destiny felt not only inevitable but luminously beautiful.

* * *

I'd lostcount of the days we'd spent hidden, patiently waiting.

My natural curiosity chafed at Thillak's evasiveness, and while our stolen moments gazing at the stars or entwined in each other's arms kept my anxiety at bay, my impatience grew.

The confines of the cell and the monotony began to wear me down.

One particular afternoon, as I idly flipped through an old, tattered book of poetry (a find Thillak had delightedly gifted me), the door to our cell burst open.

Thillak, usually so composed and measured, appeared animated, his eyes alight with an excitement I hadn't seen in days.

Tossing his hooded cloak to one side, he quickly advanced toward me.

"Isla, it's happening. The moment we've been waiting for," he panted, slightly out of breath.

I stood, dropping the book in surprise. "The… thing?" I asked hesitantly.

He nodded, his grin wide. "The very one."

Before I could press him for details, he handed me my robe, swiftly but tenderly wrapping it around me.

His fingers brushed against my skin, sending a familiar thrill down my spine.

Leaning down, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss on my lips, and the savor of him — a hint of mint and that indefinable flavor that was uniquely Thillak — flooded my senses.

"Stay close," he whispered, taking my hand and leading me out of our hiding place.

The prison was a hive of activity.

Everywhere I looked, inmates were bustling about, talking animatedly and gesticulating wildly.

The walls echoed with the sounds of shouts, laughter, and the distant clanging.

The atmosphere was so thick with excitement; it was almost palpable, like static before a storm.

Despite the commotion, Thillak seemed to know exactly where he was going, expertly navigating the chaotic corridors.

Instead of heading towards the gathering crowd and the source of the commotion, Thillak pulled me in the opposite direction, leading us deeper into the prison's bowels.

The deeper we went, the colder it became.

The smell changed too.

Gone was the musky, sweat-filled aroma of the upper levels.

Here, the air was damp, filled with the earthy scent of moss-covered stones.

I shivered, both from the cold and the unease.

"Why are we heading down?" I whispered, my voice echoing in the stone corridor.

"You'll see," was all he said, squeezing my hand reassuringly.

After what felt like hours, we entered a vast chamber.

It was dimly lit, the occasional glow stick illuminating parts of the room.

In the center, I could see a structure resembling a spacecraft.

Its edges were worn, and it gave off a low hum that vibrated the ground beneath our feet.

"We're escaping… in that?" I questioned incredulously, my eyes wide.

Thillak chuckled. "Yes. But we won't be flying it."

Suddenly, the pieces began to fall into place.

The commotion upstairs, our descent into the prison's depths… it all made sense.

While the guards and inmates were distracted by the event above, we would make our escape.

"But, if not this ship, then how?" I pressed, still trying to fit the pieces together.

Thillak winked mischievously, pulling me closer. "Through there," he pointed to a smaller corridor that veered off to the right, "lies our real ticket out."

As we made our way toward the passage, Thillak's excitement was infectious.

My heart raced, and adrenaline flooded my veins.

With each step, our escape became more real, and the promise of a life amongst the stars, with memories of lifetimes past waiting to be discovered, beckoned enticingly.

Though filled with uncertainty, one thing was clear: our adventure was only just beginning.