Beauty and the Beast: Interstellar Brides® Program: The Beasts - 3

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Beauty and the Beast: Interstellar Brides® Program: The Beasts - 3 Page 4

by Goodwin, Grace


  I nodded. “Yes. I made a vow. I am yours. I will protect you. I will provide for you. I will care for you and see to your pleasure.” Even in the dim lighting I could see her cheeks turn a deep shade of pink.

  “Why?”

  Her question was spoken in earnest, and I answered in kind. It seemed she truly didn’t understand our connection.

  “Because you are mine,” I replied. It was simple to me, but I elaborated for her. “My beast has chosen you over every other female we have ever encountered.”

  Her eyes flared wide as her mouth dropped open. She had perfect, straight teeth. “Oh my God. You’re serious. This can’t be happening.” She was soaked now, but the rain was not cold. If she were chilled, I’d insist she go inside, but I was enjoying the view.

  “This has happened, Quinn. It is a fact. A given. I am Warlord Bahre of Atlan, and I am yours.”

  “I don’t want kids.” She blurted the information out as if that would sway my intentions toward her. Perhaps others might find this a problem, but not me.

  “Your happiness is my only priority. Children are irrelevant.” I spoke the truth. If my mate wanted a dozen offspring, I would fuck her into oblivion and bounce the resulting babies on my knee. See them grown. If she wanted none, I would cherish her alone and be content.

  Very content.

  I would still fuck her into mindless oblivion, as soon as she allowed me to do so. First, I had to earn her trust. She was a wary one. Once she was comfortable with me, knew I would not harm her, she’d have to overcome my appearance. My mate was not extremely small, as some of the human women I’d seen were. However, I was an Atlan, and I feared my size might frighten her because standing here on her stoop, I loomed over her. Dwarfed her delicate frame.

  “This is crazy,” she said, flinging her arms up. Drops of water went flying. She shivered. “You can’t just choose me. You don’t know anything about me. Like, nothing.”

  “A problem easily remedied. I will learn. You are cold, mate. Go inside and put on warm, dry clothes.”

  “What about you?”

  “I have endured much worse than this warm rain.”

  Quinn tilted her head to the side and looked at me. Studied me as if deciding something. Something important. When she bit her lip, my beast could barely hold back a growl. “You’re going to stay out here in the rain all night?”

  I nodded.

  “Even if I told you to go back to the studio so you can sleep?”

  I nodded once more. “It is my honor to protect you.”

  She sighed. “This is ridiculous. Come inside. But you’re sleeping on the couch. And tomorrow you’re going back to the Bachelor Beast program. Got it?”

  “Agreed.” I did not care where I slept as long as she was near. Tomorrow she would return to her work at the station, so naturally I would accompany her there. As for the program, I was not returning to the show.

  “Come on then.” She turned around and led the way into her house. I had to duck under the doorframe but was pleased to discover I could stand within without danger of banging my head as long as I stayed away from the fan moving in slow circles on the ceiling.

  Quinn closed and locked the door, then pushed some buttons on a small panel on the wall, which I assumed was part of her locking process. I noted this with approval. She was not careless about her safety.

  Her home had white walls with striking paintings of nature scenes. I didn’t know what part of Earth they depicted, but they were colorful and bold, just like their owner. There was no clutter, which I appreciated since my large frame could easily break anything extraneous. Her quarters were large for one person, so different from life on The Colony, but even more so on a battleship. Along the entire back wall of her sitting room was an array of windows, each shielded with white coverings. She could not see out. I had no idea if her house was unusual in any way for a human, so I held my tongue.

  “Well, don’t just stand there. Follow me.”

  I walked behind her as she led me to a small bathing room. She bent down, her curved ass before me a nearly irresistible temptation, and pulled two towels from one of the shelves. She tossed one at my chest and lifted the other to wipe gently at her hair. “Here. You’re soaked, and I do not have anything in this house that would fit you.”

  “I will dry.”

  That made her laugh, and I delighted at the sparkle that came to her eyes. “Not here, you won’t. It’s one hundred percent humidity right now. You’ll be soaked all night.”

  “I will endure.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Enough with this tough-guy act, okay? Just take off your shirt at least. I’ll get you a blanket.”

  Was my mate asking me to disrobe because she was concerned that my clothing was wet? Or was this a female plot to inspect her potential mate before making a decision about whether or not to accept him? I did not know, but my body was covered in scars. If she could not accept me, perhaps it would be best to discover it now.

  She lifted her hand and waved her slender fingers at me. “Come on. I’ll throw your shirt in the dryer. Off.”

  Reaching behind the back of my neck, I tugged the shirt over my head. She grabbed for it without looking, her gaze locked on the worst of my scars, a jagged diagonal one that reached from shoulder to mid-abdomen.

  She stared and stared some more. Frozen. “Did the Hive do that?” she asked, her voice nothing more than a whisper. “I mean, is that why you were sent from The Colony?”

  “No. I am scarred from the shrapnel from a cargo ship that crashed,” I explained. “I was transported from The Colony, but that was not my home. I was never captured by the Hive like Wulf or Braun. Integrated, yes, but not by our enemy.”

  “I thought you alien guys had magic healing pods or something.” She was shaking now, so I took the towel she had given me and leaned closer, raised the soft rectangle of fabric to her cheek. Stroked her skin with the drying cloth and wished I were touching her with my fingertips. She wasn’t pushing me away, so I began to dry her pale skin. An excellent start.

  “We do. The ship I was on was shot down, and I was injured on impact. I was on the asteroid for too long after I was injured without medical intervention, even a fully functioning ReGen wand. The scars became permanent. The doctors offered to surgically reopen my wounds and strip me of my scars, but I did not feel the need. A decision I now regret.”

  “Why” She looked truly confused. “That sounds terrible. Having them cut you up all over.”

  “Had I agreed to the procedure, I would not be so scarred. I have a beast within me, but to you, I must look like a monster as well.” When she still did not stop me, I dried her opposite cheek, her forehead. Her lips. My beast was pleased I could take care of our mate with the simplest of actions. “I have scars all over my body. Do they frighten you? Do I scare you?”

  “What?” She blinked, slowly, as if coming out of a daze, and I was shocked to find the small bathing room flooded with the scent of feminine arousal. “No. God no. I have known guys who are total assholes, Bahre. You are not one of them.”

  “You are safe with me. I am a warlord and honorable. I would die before I hurt you in any way. I would die before I let anyone else harm you as well. As I said, you are mine to protect.”

  Quinn blushed once again and wouldn’t meet my eyes. She took my wet shirt and ducked away from the towel I’d been using to touch her, taking a step back, putting too much distance between us. “I’ll… I’ll get this in the dryer. Go ahead and sit on the couch. I’ll grab a blanket out of the closet.”

  I obeyed her order, turning to walk back the way I had come. The scent of her wet heat was a balm to my warlord’s soul. Proof that her words were not a lie. She was not disgusted by my scars, but she had not accepted my claim either. I was a fighter and very familiar with a mission. This was one I would win, but I had much work ahead of me in seducing my beautiful mate.

  5

  Quinn

  If I didn’t move, like right
now, I was going to run after him and jump on his broad back.

  He was scarred. Everywhere. Or at least everywhere I could see, which was his enormous, muscled torso. I wanted to lick and kiss and trace each and every mark on his body, even the ones I had yet to see.

  I should have been terrified or shocked or something. Anything but this gut-deep reaction to seeing the evidence of the horrors he’d survived. Knowing he was brutally strong, massive, a warrior, a fighter, a merciless enemy to anyone who would dare oppose him made me so hot I was having trouble getting air into my lungs. I was shaking so hard I could barely breathe. This alien soldier made me feel safe and cherished and protected.

  It was his words, the ruthless vehemence of them that had me believing him even though he was well over a foot taller and at least one hundred fifty pounds heavier. He wasn’t Jeff Randall. He wasn’t even human. He’d said he was honorable. Sure, there were honorable Earth guys, but what man would outright state he was honorable unless he was a duke from Regency England? No one did that.

  He wasn’t being prideful. He wasn’t even joking. He was dead serious. His word was everything to him, and that meant my gut and my mind were in agreement. I was safe with Warlord Bahre.

  That was reassuring because Jeff was out there somewhere. Even with a restraining order and proof of his actions, there wasn’t much the police could do about him. He hadn’t approached me since I’d left Chicago, but I’d seen him once or twice. Across the grocery store parking lot. At the library. Public places where there were witnesses that he wasn’t doing anything to me.

  Except intimidation. Except reminding me he’d followed me to Florida and could get to me anywhere, anytime he wanted. It was just a matter of when.

  He was playing a game of cat and mouse, and I was slowly being toyed with. Continually feeling vulnerable and afraid.

  I hadn’t felt truly safe in so long I’d nearly forgotten what it was like to simply want. But my body hadn’t forgotten. No. The traitorous bitch was turned on and wanted a nice big helping of the alien beast. Over me. Under me. Behind me. That would be round one. Then we could start again.

  I was losing my damn mind. Wouldn’t Ellen be proud? I’d just met him. He’d done every single stalker-y thing. Professing I belonged to him. Following me home. Watching me.

  Yet I felt… cherished. Especially after I saw all his scars. I was vulnerable to him, but the look in his eyes, the way he asked if I was afraid of his old wounds made me realize I wasn’t the only vulnerable one here.

  It wasn’t like he had a choice. He hadn’t chosen me. His beast had. Well, maybe he hadn’t had much of a choice either. Based on what I’d seen of Wulf and Olivia from the reality show, it was biological. Something the Atlan had zero control over.

  It was intense but hot as hell. I was just stunned Bahre wanted me.

  Me.

  He looked at me like he wanted to hug me close and gobble me up, despite the fact that I was a disaster. My hair was already mussed from my shower and then the rain. In fact, I was an absolute mess. Wet silk made me cold. God, my hard nipples were puckered and on display.

  No wonder Bahre looked at me like he wanted to pounce. And yet he hadn’t. Not one hint of inappropriate activity was going on in this house—if I didn’t count the Atlan cock thoughts that had set up permanent residence in my imagination since the second I’d seen him. I tried to be good, but everything I was thinking was bad, bad, bad.

  I threw Bahre’s shirt in the dryer and turned it on. That done, I went to my walk-in closet and put on dry pajamas and my silky turquoise kimono. I finished tying the sash; then I pulled a thin blanket from the linen closet and took it to him on the couch. Bahre had done exactly as I had requested and taken a seat in the center of the sectional. If I’d been any thicker in the hips, there wouldn’t have been enough room for me to squeeze beside him. I stood before him, and he realized his error and moved over… about four inches. I raised an eyebrow and tried not to grin at his behavior. I had a chair by the window where I could sit, but it was completely decorative and terribly uncomfortable. Taking that spot would have been a direct insult to Bahre, proving I had been untruthful when I’d said I wasn’t afraid of him.

  Maybe I should just give him the blanket and go to bed. That was what a good girl would do. A sensible woman. Perhaps Ellen was feeding me telepathic thoughts of jumping the guy. Maybe my pussy was lonely. Hell, maybe all of me was lonely. And tired of being afraid. Looking at Bahre made me remember I was afraid of Jeff Randall, and Bahre was definitely not Jeff.

  Making up my mind—or maybe my libido had done it for me—I sat on the couch next to Bahre, our legs touching. I handed the blanket to him, expecting him to wrap it around his bare torso. Instead he opened the blanket and made sure I was completely covered first.

  “You are nervous because of me,” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” I replied. I was. I wasn’t skittish because I was being mean. It was instinctive, like his beast wanting me.

  “It is better than you being afraid.”

  I turned my head and looked up at him. “I told you, I’m not afraid of you. I’m… I’m wary of men.”

  He frowned, then glared. “You have a man? A human?”

  Was he… jealous? “Me? No. I mean, not now. I’m single.”

  “I wish to know why you are wary. I will know the name of the one who hurt you, and I shall kill him.”

  My mouth fell open at his words. “You’re serious.”

  He turned slightly so he faced me on the couch. Our knees bumped, and he lifted my legs up over his tree-trunk thighs so we fit. I was half sitting on his lap. I was surprised the heat from him didn’t have steam coming off his pants.

  “Of course. Who has hurt you?”

  I picked at the blanket, not meeting his dark eyes. “You just met me and you wish to talk about this?”

  “I wish to know everything about you, but you must be happy and I can tell you are not. Tell me this human’s name.”

  I sighed, seeing that he was a very determined alien.

  “Jeff Randall. But you can’t kill him.”

  His jaw clenched. “Yes, I am aware. I do not wish for the relations between Earth and the Coalition to become an issue like last time.”

  “Last time?”

  I had no idea what he was talking about.

  “Things became complicated when Warlord Braun found his mate. Things are settled now, but killing a human will most likely dissolve any gains the ambassador made in the past month.”

  “Um… okay.” He spoke perfect English, but he made no sense.

  He raised a hand and stroked my cheek. The barest of touches with his fingertips.

  I tilted my head, leaning into the gesture.

  “Tell me about this Jeff Randall.”

  As I told him of Jeff stalking me, Bahre’s hand continued to stroke over my skin. My hair. My shoulder.

  His head whipped around, suddenly on full alert, like a guard dog hearing an unfamiliar sound. “You believe he may be outside your house now?” As he pushed up to stand, I set my hand on his biceps to stop him.

  “I don’t know. It’s possible. I’ve seen him here in town, but he hasn’t done anything.”

  “Your mind is troubled. You are afraid.”

  “Well, yes. But do not think of him. As you said, you don’t want any issues between Earth and the Coalition. You are here with me, and you said you will keep me safe.”

  I tossed his own words back at him. I was using them to prove to him now that no one would get to me with him nearby.

  He gave a funny grunt. More like a growl. Was that his beast? And why did that sound make me wet? No… wetter.

  “Mate,” he said, his voice deep. His dark gaze was on my lips now. He set his hands upon my shoulders. Gently. Reverently. “You are so beautiful.”

  He was so big, and I felt small and feminine. Protected. His scars proved that he was powerful. A survivor.

  I didn’t have to be strong for him. A
ll he wanted was me. I could not resist any longer. When he was so close, when I felt like I was in a cocoon of safety that seemed only he could provide me, I let go. Pulled down all my defenses. All my walls. At least for the moment.

  “Kiss me,” I whispered.

  His hands slid up to cup my cheeks. He lowered his head and did just that.

  How could such a big Atlan be so gentle? So… sweet? I wouldn’t tell him that. Never.

  I just enjoyed the gentle sweep of his lips over mine. I sighed into the caress, relaxed, and fell back onto the couch, letting him come over me, one of his knees beside my hip, a hand on the arm of the couch to keep his weight off me. I let his tongue sweep in and take.

  “Mate,” he growled against my lips.

  I wasn’t going to argue when the hard press of him made me moan. God, he was virile. Manly, or whatever the alien word was for that. Dominant.

  I felt the hard press of his cock against my leg, and while he was so much bigger than me, I felt powerful. I was the one he was drawn to. I was the one he’d stood out in the rain and watched over. I was the one who had made him hard.

  Me.

  I tangled my fingers in his silky hair and kissed the ever-loving daylights out of him.

  His hand slid up and down my side, parting my robe. I felt the cool air against my skin and knew he’d pushed my top up.

  We were both still clothed—minus his shirt—and making out like teenagers. When his huge hand cupped my breast, I broke the kiss and cried out.

  These weren’t gentle man hands. I felt callouses, rough skin that scraped across mine. This was a palm that had held a weapon. Fingers that had pulled a trigger. A grip that had killed.

  And yet he was plucking at my nipple with a gentle skill that made my clit pulse, my pussy soaked for him.

  “Bahre,” I said, whispering his name against his ear.

  “Fuck, you’re so soft. I could hurt you so easily.”

 

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