He reached the bridge and found all hell had broken loose. The room was dark but emergency lights were blinking everywhere. He crouched through the small opening of the engine compartment. Inside the narrow space the blaring of the alarm was thankfully muffled.
“Daxon, watch out,” his Bride cried out. “The engine is off-line but the redundant systems are still working. Everything is weird right now. Be careful.”
He twisted to avoid a sparking wire. “What happened?”
Darcy of One brushed past him and raced to the other end of the conduit. “You put that part in wrong,” she yelled out, tapping on a small screen. “I was running a diagnostic and when the work-flow reached that faulty system it caused a cascade that shut down the entire engine.”
“I did this?”
“Yes, you did, you caused this shut down, it certainly wasn’t me!” she huffed. “And Daxon, you know I adore you, but you’re naked again. I mean, come on, can’t you wear some pants?”
She adored him?
“Don’t worry, I’ll get this fixed soon and—”
And then the floor tilted. He stumbled on his slippery, wet feet and in moments he was flat on his ass and the ground was sliding downward.
“Gravity is destabilizing,” the computer noted.
“Daxon,” his Bride yelled. “Watch out that outtake fan is running at maximum. Daxon!”
He glanced down the end of the conduit to see a massive fan whirring, the metal blades flashing like battle axes.
“There’s supposed to a fucking safety net there,” Darcy shouted. “Where is it? Computer, initiate the godsdamn safety net.”
“Automatic safety netting is off-line,” the computer intoned. “Netting must be manually initiated.”
Daxon reached both arms out, scraping his claws against the smooth metal walls, desperately trying to grab for purchase, but his body was slick with cleansing fluid. His muscles were straining and his hearts pounding. The fan was flashing underneath. He was able to use his might to keep his body temporarily stationed above the swooping blades, but one slip up…
“Daxon.”
His Bride was positioned above him, one arm crooked into a ladder and her other hand stretched out for him to grab.
“Take my hand!” she screamed.
“No!” he roared. “I’d rather die than force a mating.”
“Take my hand, you idiot.” She reached down and grabbed his wrist and slid her hand into his claw. “You are not dying today. I need you.” Her palm connected with his bare palm. He took her hand with a firm grip. “Reach over and hit the manual setting for the net. Over there. You’re the only one that can do it.”
Her leverage allowed him enough lift to slide up and slam a claw on the safety panel. The blue netting immediately illuminated below.
“Oh, thank gods,” Darcy breathed.
Then she let go of the ladder and he held onto her as they both dropped together onto the safety netting. They fell against each other, her bare hand engulfed in his pulsing claw.
He threw his head back and let out a thunderous roar.
They were both lying face-to-face. The wind died down, all systems were now on-line again and quiet. The floor leveled out and he could feel gravity stabilizing. The alarms turned off. The energy netting hummed with efficiency. And his body was naked and enflamed.
He’d almost died, and she’d saved his life. His Bride. His Be’Ih.
His claw clasped around her tiny human hand, skin to skin, palm to holy palm. And now both of their hands were together and he was rubbing his claws along her delicate fingers, absorbing all of the sizzling energy sparking therein. Their hands were clasped between their two bodies, pressed close, chest to chest, her head resting underneath his chin.
She shifted her weight and moaned softly.
A growl rumbled through his chest. The warmth of energy flared at their palms and flashed throughout his entire body, lighting up parts of him that had long been dormant. He’d never felt nor understood the need to mate. His cock hadn’t ever been used for breeding. And now…now his penis was rock hard and enflamed and leaking seed. It ached to be inside his Bride.
She was fully clothed in the occupational clothing he’d improvised for her safety, but he was naked and ready to mate.
He inhaled and he knew she was in her breeding cycle.
“Daxon, are you okay?”
He flexed his hips and rubbed his cock against her stomach so she could feel how okay he was.
“Oh wow. Is that? Oh dear gods, it’s…honey, that’s never going to fit,” she whimpered.
He placed a claw under her chin and bent to capture her lips. He kissed his Bride with all the pent-up passion of an entire life spend in denial. His mouth on hers was a moment of glorious union. He’d spent the last two diurnals with this enticing female as she ate, watching as she spoke and the way she smiled or laughed. Her features had become precious to him, but the feel of her lips against his…this was entirely different. Her lips were perfectly soft, and her taste was explosive. His tongue swept inside her mouth with possessive sucks and strokes, and he felt the moment his breeding hormones transferred to his mate.
“You are mine,” he said, his lips against hers.
He smelled the immediate spike in her arousal and knew she was in her breeding cycle. In that instant his female changed from a docile human to a fierce raging mate, demanding to be claimed by her male. Her arms tightened around his neck and her legs twined between his thighs.
He had to take care of her swiftly or she would be in pain. But he could not enter her for the first time here, on this floor. He looked around and saw the nearby panel where the emergency kit was kept. He reached his arm out, the tips of his claws barely brushing against the handle.
“My Be’Ih,” he growled, “I will take care of you. But first I need to ready the holo deck for our claiming ceremony.”
“Fuck me right now,” she cried, her hand wrapping around his hard cock.
He let out a sharp hiss, worried he was going to spill his first seed all over her blunt human fingers. This would be terrible. A warrior’s first seed should legally be spilled within his Bride’s womb, in the original claiming forests on Chronos or on a recreation on a holodeck, either was perfectly acceptable and legal. Spilling one’s seed prematurely could lead to an illegal mating. This would require a judge to intervene in order to recreate the ceremony.
He peeled her fingers off of his cock. “No, Be’Ih, I cannot pleasure you here, I need to claim you within the bounds of the claiming forest. We must wait.”
She attacked him with surprising strength, like a hissing new-born animal. Arms flew and her smooth teeth bared. He held onto her squiggling form, keeping her safe and unhurt as he moved to the panel and pried it open. He grabbed the kit and opened it. There was the tranq gun.
“Daxon. Daxon,” she moaned, her legs scissoring. She reached down between her legs and began rubbing herself.
“I’ve got you. I will have everything ready.”
And he shot her in the shoulder with the gun. She sighed and her eyes fluttered closed. Daxon bent and swept her into his arms. He walked them both out of the bridge and down the halls and into the holo deck.
12
Darcy woke up in a dark claiming forest.
He’d tranq’d her! Daxon had grabbed for a gun to knock her out because she’d gone a little crazy, attacking him in her need to have sex with him right away.
Gods, how embarrassing.
She’d been in the midst of chaos on the ship, having to deal with the engines going off-line and alarms…oh gods, Daxon had almost got caught in the outtake fan. The ship had destabilized briefly, and he’d slid down the conduit straight for the razor-sharp blades of that fan spinning without the protective safety netting. And she’d grabbed for his hand in order to save his life. He’d refused, but she’d made the decision for him and grabbed for his claw. Then he’d managed to hit the button to manually restart the netting and the
strategic diagnostic she’d started had finally repaired the ship’s systems and the ship stabilized.
Wow.
That had been scary as hell.
And then they’d fallen together onto the netting and he was still holding her hand. She remembered that part clearly—the flash of awareness, the warmth at the point of the joined palms. And then he’d kissed her. It had actually been the most romantic moment of her life.
Although Daxon didn’t know she’d been on the verge of requesting a testing anyway, so really it was a bit anticlimactic. She wasn’t being forced through an accident, instead she was getting exactly what she’d wanted.
But that kissing and the touching—she certainly wanted more of that.
And here she was, about to be claimed by a Xylan warrior who was her confirmed mate, wearing only a loose tunic, but she smelled like Daxon, and this was all that mattered. Her cheeks heated at the idea of Daxon undressing her and putting another black tunic over her naked body. He’d carefully removed the layers of occupational clothing and her shoes and left her ready for his possession. And he’d brought her here…
Darcy sat up and glanced around. She knew it had to be a claiming forest because there was grass. Wet grass. She was from New Earth, which was a semi-arid climate. Only in the areas next to the river where she lived did water flow freely like this. This lush greenery, heavy with water, was amazing. She put her palm up and stuck out her tongue to capture some of the misty rain falling lightly from the sky.
Up above there were light clouds passing by in the night. Two bright moons hung overhead. And the trees were towering above, the tips disappearing into the nighttime sky. This was definitely a forest. She’d never really visited a forest this extreme. It was amazing. Everything was bigger and better than on New Earth.
Daxon had let her know ahead of time that if the testing proved positive he would immediately claim her on the holo deck. He wasn’t kidding. She shook her head and blew out a breath, revisiting the terror of how he’d refused to take her hand. Even if it had meant his death, he was willing to keep his vow, to keep to the Scales of Xylan Law and not force a testing.
He was such a good male. How did she not see this before?
And she wasn’t troubled that this testing happened earlier than she’d planned. It was only one or two diurnals early. So what?
And anyway, all she could think of right now was the fact that her body was enflamed with her need for him and where the hell was he? This was a claiming forest and where was her new husband who was supposed to be doing the claiming?
She stood and continued to examine the terrain. A slight breeze blew her hair back and fluttered the fabric of her tunic. She was barefoot on the grass, shifting on her feet, restless.
The claiming was essentially a chase. The warrior was to prove his worth by taking his powerful Bride, piercing her hymen and declaring her his mate. And the Bride’s job was to show how powerful she was by not making any of this easy for the male. Apparently, the more wounds the Bride could inflict as she fought off her husband, the better. Claiming injuries were a moment of pride for all Xylan, it showed a hard-fought claim.
She glanced around again at the dark meadow of damp grass and the forest of giant trees.
How was she going to make this hard?
And then she heard the crunch of footsteps on the undergrowth. She turned to see an enormous naked male emerge out of a light mist. Daxon. Finally. He was, of course, completely naked and oh wow, his cock was now so hard she could easily see it jutting out in front of him, bobbing as he walked. She licked her lips, remembering what it felt like when he’d pressed that monstrosity against her stomach. And she’d grabbed his cock and demanded he fuck her! Oops.
She felt pride though, knowing that only her touch had inflamed this virile warrior—she’d woken his body for mating. He was primed and ready for her, only for her.
He began to speak to her in formal Xylan, which she was having trouble understanding, even with the translation chip he’d implanted in her brain. It seemed to be ritualistic language, used as vows to bind them. She listened patiently, keeping her eyes on his as he spoke.
And finally he said, “You may run.”
She blinked. Run? Why would she run?
But weirdly, he was right, it was all she wanted. It was the Bride’s job to start the chase. She turned on her heel and sprinted out of there, faster than she’d ever run her whole life.
Darcy wasn’t normally a runner, because, as she’d gotten older her body had grown too curvy and bouncy and therefore she’d never been someone who thought running was any type of fun—it was basically only necessary as a mode of escape. But she ran as fast as her flying feet would take her and her mind spun, trying to come up with a plan—how could she make it hard for this powerful male to capture her in this dark, spooky forest? She might not be the strongest female, but she could certainly think up a plan, because she had to make this hard for Daxon in order to give him the wedding night of his life. He deserved her full effort.
Her eyes darted around the dark landscape. There were trees to climb and…what was that? The sound of water rushing reached her ears. A river? A river to hide in. Aha! She turned and ran straight towards the sound. This was familiar. She’d grown up near the San Joaquin river which cut through all the local farms and irrigated their crops. She’d hid often along the river banks while swimming and playing with her brother and neighbors.
A distant roar thundered through the forest. Oh no, he was coming after her. He’d given her a head start, but now he was quickly making up for lost time. An enormous, almost seven-foot-tall Xylan warrior was behind her, chasing her down in the forest.
Oh hell, no time to waste.
Darcy raced to the sparkling river, which luckily wasn’t moving too rapidly. She could see through the glint of moonlight on the water that the very middle of the river was moving at a scary-swift current she wanted to avoid, but the edges seemed tame. She waded in.
Maybe he didn’t know that she could swim?
Being able to swim was unusual on her planet because not many citizens of New Earth lived near large bodies of water. She’d heard there were public watering stations in Singapore, but she hadn’t visited them. Water was rationed heavily, but Darcy had been lucky enough to have been born next to one of the only protected rivers on her planet. The San Joaquin river fed the whole farming valley she lived in and it was fed by the melting snow run-off from the nearby mountain range. Darcy had walked there daily and swam there during the spring and summer. She hated running, but swimming she was good at.
And how good could an Illibrium miner from Timbor be at swimming?
She expected the water to be freezing cold, but it was surprisingly pleasant. And then she dunked in entirely, getting her head wet. She swam along the bank and moved with utter quiet, not wanting him to know she was there. She kept swimming, moving with the current which was pushing her along even faster than she could swim. Huh. There was no way he could keep up with her or find her in the dark.
She grinned. She might not be the strongest, but she could plan well.
And then suddenly a body slammed into the river with a mighty splash. She screamed as arms and legs tackled her in the water, grabbing her close to a hard chest.
What the hell.
His face was close, and she could see the flash of white fangs as he grinned at her. His eyes were two illuminated spots of bright light in the dark. Holy crap, he had night vision, didn’t he? The asshole could see at night. A growl of frustration rumbled in her throat.
Oh no, he was not getting away with this.
She leaned forward and bit his neck, clamping her teeth with all her might. His skin broke and warm blood gushed onto her tongue. He threw his head back and roared.
“Enough,” he snarled, pulling her off his neck.
And then he picked her up and out of the water and threw her over his shoulder and waded over to the bank of the river. She continued to kick
and scream because she wasn’t done making this hard for him.
He gently tossed her down onto the slope at the bank. She lay there, wet and stunned, in a mixture of weeds and mud. He reached out a claw, shredded her tunic and tossed the ruined fabric aside, leaving her naked. “No!” she shrieked. She was fully exposed, her chest rising and falling, his dark blood smeared on her face, neck and along the slope of her breasts.
“You are mine,” he snarled.
He pried her legs open with his sharp claws on the meaty part of her thighs. And the moment her legs parted he paused to stare at her sopping wet pussy. He glanced up, as if asking for approval. A growl of impatience rumbled in his chest. She licked her lips. In that moment the struggle became less than her need to feel his mouth right where she was so inflamed. She gave him a curt nod of approval because this was exactly what she so desperately needed. The release that only he could provide.
He used his claws to expose her pussy further to his gaze. And then his head was between her legs and his mouth and lips were on her slit and he was licking her juices. She glanced down, entranced with the vision of Daxon’s head between her thighs, his tongue working her most sensitive regions. Growls rumbled in his throat as he continued to lap at her slit, moving his tongue up and down, exploring. And then he found her clit and her back bowed off the ground.
“Oh yes, right there,” she gasped. “Don’t stop.”
He moved the tip of his tongue along the side of her clit, finding a rhythm in exactly the right spot. She panted, unable to handle the way it was ratcheting up and up and up. The pleasure lurking there was scary-intense. She reached down and grabbed his hair, lifting her hips to give him easier access. And he kept going, licking and licking…
And then she detonated. And wave after wave of pleasure flooded her body, tightening through her stomach and flashing all the way to the tips of her toes. She squeezed her eyes shut and moaned out her release, then fell weak onto the ground, her tense fingers finally disentangling from Daxon’s hair.
Daxon's Hostage (Alien Bounty Hunters Book 6) Page 9