by Webster, K
Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.
He groans when his orgasm rushes from him and into my body. His cock throbs out every venomous drop. No longer needing to hold my arms, thanks to the paralytic effect of his semen, he takes advantage and his claws begin to trace every available inch of my skin. The heavy-lidded look he’s giving me infuriates me and I could slap him for making me enjoy this, but I’ll have to make do with giving him a death glare.
The slow stroking goes on until he’s nearly soft—if you could call it that—and can barely stay inside any longer. He doesn’t seem in any hurry to get off me, though, and all I can do is wait it out. Avrell said it would be less and less each time, but now I’m starting to wonder if that was just a line of bullshit they fed me to keep me from freaking out even more.
Wisely, I don’t think about what Breccan means by breeding for hours.
When he’s done, he runs a hand over his cock to gather the semen dripping from the tip. With his eyes on mine, he carefully rubs at my folds, then presses his slick fingers inside me.
I throw my head back against the bed, the toxica relenting enough for me to moan aloud. Even though I know the why’s, even though I know it shouldn’t, it still sends shockwaves throughout me.
Breccan’s eyes take on a satisfied glint. “Take every last drop, mortania. As soon as you’re feeling better, I’ve got something to show you. I have a feeling you’ll enjoy it.”
While I lie frozen on the bed, Breccan dresses and then moves around the room cleaning up the mess I’d made without a negative word. Once he’s done, he wets a small towel and approaches me. He’s gentle and caring as he cleanses me between my thighs, his black eyes intense and on mine. I try to ignore the stirrings in my chest. The happy way in which he takes care of me is confusing. My gut instinct is to hate him but he makes it too hard, especially when he is being so sweet. His hands are reverent as he strokes my flat stomach and the crack in my chest seems to grow wider. Pride and hope glimmer in his stare. There’s nothing intimidating or infuriating about him now. Not in this moment. Right now, he’s beautiful and regarding me as though I’m his whole world. I’ve never been anyone’s entire world. With a sigh of regret, he finally leaves me to find me something to wear. Even as he dresses me, he does it with careful consideration as though he doesn’t want to hurt me.
Damn him for making a mess of my mind.
I forget to be angry when he picks me up for another trek through the facility. “Where are we going?” I ask when my voice returns.
This may be my chance to figure out an escape plan. Or at the very least distract Breccan long enough to get his armband. I feel a twinge of guilt at the thought of betraying him but I can’t afford to be weak. These…men have no qualms about using me. I shouldn’t have any about using them in return.
He gives me a grin I can only describe as roguish and I have to wonder if getting laid hasn’t improved the sour commander’s disposition. “The command center.”
My biting retort dies in my throat. The command center. “Can you put me down? I can walk.”
His gait doesn’t slow. “I don’t mind carrying you. You’re very light for a female of your size.”
“A female of my size?”
“You’ve the hips and breasts for a breeding woman. I’d expected you to weigh much more.”
I throw my weight to the side and by a miracle, manage to land on my feet. “What the hell? Are you calling me fat?”
The pronounced brows on his forehead shift in what I think is a quizzical look. “Are you displeased? These will be useful for when you’re carrying our young. I don’t understand your anger.”
Remember the command center. “Forget it,” I say from between gritted teeth. “Are we almost there?” I think I’ve gotten the directions from his quarters to the main run of the facility. We’re nearing Avrell’s office and the medical bay I remember from before.
“It’s just a bit farther south,” Breccan answers, but he glances at me as though he can’t quite figure me out.
That’ll make two of us, buddy.
The command center is empty when we find it and I wonder if Hadrian’s shift has ended now that Breccan’s here. He slides his armband under the sensor and the doors beep as they slide open. “Welcome, Commander Breccan,” says a slightly digitized female voice.
“Good solar to you, Uvie,” he greets the voice.
We step inside and Breccan crosses to a wall of computer screens atop a bank of countertops covered in different buttons. As he studies the screens intently, I wander around the room, trying to get my bearings. Immediately across from the doors is the giant window that’s now covered with a massive metal door. I’ve been here before. I remember now. A heat creeps up my throat as I recall the way Breccan had stood in front of the open window that day with the sun shining in on him and he looked high as a kite. Avrell had handed him a cloth to clean himself when we walked in. Talk about awkward. Despite us catching him right after he’d been pleasuring himself, he wasn’t ashamed.
Forcing myself to think about other things besides Breccan and his cock, I survey the equipment in the room. Everything, like the rest of the facility is old, but as clean as I’ve come to expect from these strange males. They’ve mentioned disease and infection, but I’m coming to realize they take cleanliness to the extreme.
“We can only stay here for a few minutes—your skin is still sensitive yet.”
“My skin?” I turn to face Breccan, who has come to stand behind me.
“Here,” he says, and starts pulling on the metal door that covers the window. “Let me show you.” A horrible scraping bellows from the wall as it opens. I flinch at the loud sound. “Don’t fret,” he says lowly as he comes to wrap his arms around me from behind. “I will keep you safe.”
The window reveals a swirl of light and an intense wave of heat. I didn’t realize how cold they kept the facility until the rush of warmth greets my skin and I moan in delight. Behind me, Breccan stiffens and hisses out a breath, but I don’t pay much attention because the heat is glorious, almost like a good day at the beach back home. I close my eyes because it’s too bright to look out the window anyway and pretend I’m lying on the sand with the sound of waves in my ear and a nice drink by my side.
Minutes pass, I don’t know how long. So long my knees ache from standing and my skin itches as though I’ve gotten a sunburn. It’s worth it though, because for the first time, I don’t feel so afraid—or so alone.
I turn to Breccan, to thank him or to what, I don’t know—but it doesn’t matter. His skin has gone a horrible shade of red and the blacks of his eyes have been bleached white. He makes a terrible sound before falling to his knees as his eyes roll back into his head and he crumples to the ground.
For a moment, I panic. Half of me eyes the door. This would be the perfect moment to escape. I cringe as I consider the harsh conditions and creepy animals Hadrian spoke of. Okay, so maybe escape is a bad idea. I push that thought away immediately. Worry over Breccan takes over every thought in my mind.
The moment of indecision over what to do costs me and I do the second-best thing while I have the time.
I close the giant covers for the windows. It takes more effort than I expect and I grunt as I drag it closed, the scraping sound an assault to my eardrums. Breccan’s body shakes at my feet, then relaxes as the last rays of sunlight are covered. I take the armband from Breccan’s lifeless body without a second thought, then use it to open the door and scream for help into the hallway. Avrell’s offices are near. He has to hear me. Then, I store the armband in one of my pockets and go back to Breccan’s side to assess the damage.
His skin looks hot to the touch and has already broken out with sores in some places. I’m afraid to touch him, afraid to move him. I wonder as I bring his head into my lap if this is why they wear the suits. I hadn’t even realized he’d stripped his down behind me. His whole upper body looks bright red and painful. Is this why their skin is so white? They’re not
subjected to the sun’s rays at all, so they obviously wouldn’t get a tan. As I wait for help, it makes me wonder where they came from and what exactly they are.
Breccan begins to come around as I hear footsteps racing down the hall. Relieved, tears sting my eyes as he opens his. “Why didn’t you say it was going to hurt you?” I demand. Tears drip down my cheeks and land in his hair.
He raises a welted arm and catches one of the salty offerings to bring to his lips. “It seemed to bring my mate such joy. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
I feel the first stirrings of…I don’t know what. I don’t want to know. It reminds me of the way my chest felt inside when we had sex earlier and then how he took care of me after. I hurry to wipe the tears away as Avrell comes to our side. He lifts Breccan with surprising ease and we hurry back to the exam room, where we have been far too many times already.
As he and Breccan discuss what happened, I follow behind, my mind a confused maze.
“We’ve talked about this,” Avrell mutters under his breath to Breccan. “It’s getting out of control.”
“It’s not out of control,” Breccan grunts. “I’m fine.”
“It’s not out of control. I’m fine.”
I remember saying those same words to my sister. We’d spoken on the phone and I’d admitted using flora. Instead of moving on, she was concerned about my being addicted to it.
“I’m not addicted.”
I’d laughed at her. But it hurt hearing those words. I was completely addicted despite my denial. The only way I could cope with the stress of my job and things that had happened to me was with constant hits of flora. It was more like a nightmare than reality. There, I was an idol, but a mistreated one. I lived for the mind-numbing high. It was my escape.
What is Breccan escaping from?
He practically overdosed on the sun’s rays, that much I can gather. So what is it that makes him need to escape?
Responsibility. Hopelessness. Pain.
Again, my chest aches. I can relate. Having the weight of the world on your shoulders is an incredible burden. Back home, I was groomed to look and act, literally, a certain way. I never got to just be.
Like here?
I haven’t needed the flora since I’ve been here. This whole new world has been too big and too scary, but not one I needed to flee mentally from. At first, maybe, I thought it was, but as I spend more time here with these people, I’m realizing that never-ending desire to numb myself doesn’t exist.
My mind flits to earlier with Breccan in his bed. I’d been paralyzed but I wasn’t numb. I felt the way he pleasured and worshipped me. It wasn’t awful. Far from it, in fact.
The things I’d been forced to endure back home…were different. Worse.
Objectified and depersonalized until I was more a thing than a person.
Here…they need me in a way that I’ve never been needed before. Breccan, despite his brash, animalistic nature, has shown me tenderness that I haven’t experienced in a long time, if ever. I’m cared for, given blinding orgasms, and made to feel wanted and…needed.
Would I feel like that if I went back home? Had I ever? Here, I’m shocked to realize I feel almost… content. I can’t remember the last time I felt content at home without the help of a drug-induced stupor, and even then it was only fleeting.
I know I should still want to leave. I know I have to try to save the other women.
But now…now I’m not so sure if I want to go home at all.
I’m not even sure I want to know what’s going on back on my planet. Somehow…some way, I ended up in one of those cryotubes and was jetting through space. Asleep. The idea is terrifying. Especially since I don’t remember a thing. Was I kidnapped? Was I forced away? Now that my mind has found some clarity, questions continue to plague me of how I came to get myself in that position anyway. And if someone put me there, why would I be in any hurry to get back?
I wouldn’t.
Not living in a constant haze is nice. I’m beginning to want things for myself again. Stirrings of purpose flitter inside of me.
I’m more than Aria Delaney, actress.
Fierce. Resilient. Tough.
I’ve lived through some daunting trials in life and yet here I am. Stuck on a creepy planet with sexy albino vampire giants with elf ears and it doesn’t totally suck. Nope, it doesn’t suck at all.
Perhaps the more I get to know these guys, maybe I’ll feel more inclined to stay. Maybe I can help them. On my own terms.
Maybe we’re not so different after all.
9
Breccan
Avrell applies a medicated wipe to the biggest sore on my chest. I let out a roar and puncture the bedding with my claws. “Rekk! Are you trying to burn a hole right through me?”
Aria comes up beside him and regards me with narrowed eyes. “That was reckless.” Her nostrils flare and her lips press together in a firm line. It’s as though she’s chiding me too. “You passed out.” She motions at my chest. “And look at you. You damn near cooked!”
“Do I smell rogcow?” Hadrian questions, sniffing loudly as he strolls into the medical bay.
“Calix cleared you, I see,” I bark out, changing the subject. “Did the sabrevipe’s claws get you?”
Hadrian unzips his minnasuit and peels out of the top half to show me his wounds. His pale white skin has been scratched and bubbles up red but it has not been punctured.
“How big was this thing?” Aria utters, shock in her voice as she inspects Hadrian’s marks. Her fingers flit up as though she wants to touch him but she keeps her distance.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers loud enough for me to hear. “I don’t bite…unless you want me to.” He waggles his eyebrows and bares his double fangs, causing her to giggle.
Giggle!
That rekking mort gets on my every last nerve most solars now that he’s come into his own, but right now I want to hug him and thank him for bringing some genuine joy to my mate.
It strikes me as I watch her appraise his battle wounds and chatter with him that she’s not happy. Not happy like I am. She’s the best rekking thing to happen to me in my entire existence.
But her?
We essentially took her from somewhere.
My mind throbs with questions. About her family. Her duties. The things she enjoys doing or holds dear to her. I know nothing.
“What is it?” Avrell asks as he listens to my heart with his device. “Your pulse is thumping erratically. I’m worried you may have some UV poisoning.”
“It was bigger than this room!” Hadrian boasts, stretching his arms to describe the baby sabrevipe.
Aria shrieks in horror. “No! And you took it down by yourself?”
“While everyone watched,” he agrees. “You’re talking to the future commander when my old man kicks it.”
She laughs again and my heart thumps in my chest. Avrell panics and rushes over to his medicine cabinet.
“Av,” I grunt. “It’s not UV poisoning.” My eyes trek over to Aria. It’s her.
Avrell’s gaze follows mine and we watch as Hadrian pretends to run and battle this giant he’s made up in his nog.
“You’d make a great actor,” she tells him, her giggles echoing in the room.
“I don’t know what that is but I do know I’d make a great everything.” He grins like the empty-nog little rekk he is.
“Go help Galen cook this massive beast that you single-handedly destroyed,” I order dryly.
He flashes me his rogcow horns and saunters out of the medical bay like he’s the mortarekking king of Mortuus. Avrell lets out an amused chuckle as he returns without the medicine for UV poisoning but instead an electrolyte booster. I toss the tablet into my mouth and crunch the chalky pill. As soon as I swallow, I can feel my strength returning.
“Why did those monsters attack the facility?” she asks, fear flashing in her brown orbs. “Can they get in? Will they eat us?” She shudders and rubs her arms.
I climb off the table, no longer dizzy, and pull her slight frame into my arms. At first, she is stiff, but then she leans against my chest that is still far warmer than normal. It prides me knowing I can comfort her. Even if it is only to make her stop shivering.
I want to comfort her soul like Hadrian did in a few short moments.
“The morts around here work ’round the clock to keep things out. The beasts, the elements, the pathogens.” I stroke her soft hair that I’ve grown quite fond of touching. “I’ll keep you safe. This solar and every solar after, mortania.”
Avrell chuckles behind me. “Quite the rogstud, Commander.”
Rekking rogstud. A beast that mounts a rogcow to breed little calves. Walks around grunting with his cock always eager and ready. When he’s ready to rut on his female, he brays this mortarekking sound that’ll make you want to flatten your ears against your skull and pin them there so you don’t have to hear it anymore. It’s terrible.
I am not a rekking rogstud.
Her nose scrunches as she looks up at me. “Mortania?”
“Means beautiful female,” Avrell explains, a smile in his voice.
Grunting, I tug her with me out of the room. “See you later in the nutrition bay,” I call over my shoulder.
“Nobody will fault you if you don’t show up,” he yells out after me. “Try to keep the braying down though. Makes the others jealous.”
I glare at him over my shoulder and he flashes me the rekking horns Hadrian is always throwing my way. These morts are all losing their minds. Every last one of them.
* * *
“Why don’t we eat with the others?” Aria asks as we carry our trays to my quarters.
I swipe my new armband on the reader since I’ve seemed to have misplaced my other one. Usually Hadrian is the only one who loses his belongings around here. Perhaps I am too distracted by my new alien and behaving like a young mort again. Careless and idiotic.
“Why would we eat with them?” I’m perplexed why we would do such a thing. I’ve seen the way Hadrian eats. Makes a mess all over the place. I don’t want to see that while I’m consuming my meal. It’ll make your stomach churn.