by Alana Khan
Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series Book Twelve
By
Alana Khan
WarDog
Copyright
WarDog: Book Twelve in the Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series by Alana Khan
St. Petersburg, FL 33709
www.alanakhan.com
© 2021 Alana Kahn
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
For permissions contact: [email protected]
Cover by Elle Arden
Acknowledgements
You know that saying ‘it takes a village’? Well it seems like I needed one on this book. I had a lot of great feedback. My thanks go to Dr. Lee who donates her time to read the book many times and gives me innumerable suggestions to improve the writing. She had some great ideas about WarDog and Bayne’s internal dialogue. Go you, Lee!
My daughter, an author in her own right, Amarra Skye is full of plot help as always. My lovely assistant from across the pond, Stephanie A. who reads and re-reads and helps with a thousand other details. My friend Kassie K. who helps with plotting and always figures out a way to cram more sex into every book—I’m sure my readers thank you, Kassie.
Do you know I have three teams of early readers? My alpha and beta teams read the books to help find plot holes and bloopers. My many thanks to: Sue P., Karla, Carla, Tammy, Karen, Linda P., Kimber, Betty R., Shardae, Lori L., and Corda. I’m juggling a lot of plates and hope I didn’t miss anyone!
Interested in being an early reader? Contact me at [email protected]
Want the latest on all the news about the Alanaverse? Newest cover reveals? First chapters? Pictures of the hero’s masculine equipment? Sign up for my newsletter at https://alanakhan.com/free-copy-2/ You’ll get a free novelette about Shadow’s backstory, too. It’s crammed full of sex and violence. What would be wrong with that?
Table of Contents
Copyright
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Sneak Peek of Stryker Book Thirteen in the Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series
Who’s Who and Glossary
Present Day
Somewhere in Space
There is a Who’s Who at the end of this book
Chapter One
Willa
The air is redolent with humid warmth as I wander through a dense forest crowded with tall, leafy trees. A few faint shards of light drift through the thick canopy and dapple the ground, but it’s dim down here on the forest floor.
The smell is rich and fertile with decomposing leaves. Birds call to each other from up above. I feel protected in the gloam. The safe cocoon blankets me and I feel my body stand down for what feels like the first time in months.
A huntsman approaches. Because I’m feeling safe here, surrounded by the peaceful ambiance of the forest, I don’t startle, I just watch him. He’s tall and powerful, his erect posture shouting his control. Brown hair streaked with auburn reaches halfway down his back. An animal pelt is thrown over his shoulders; leather breeches hug his muscular thighs.
His face holds intelligent golden eyes that are keenly interested in me. His lips are full and sensual. The first thought arrowing into my brain is to wonder what it would be like to kiss those lips. By the way his gaze caresses my face, I think he’s wondering the same thing about me.
A small smile tips the corners of his mouth even as he slows his approach, then stops. A sound vibrates from deep in the back of his throat as he waits expectantly. Though not a word has been exchanged, I know he's waiting for me to bridge the distance between us.
Feeling no fear, I edge closer. With each step, his appealing looks become more apparent. Tanned skin, wide shoulders, rippled abdomen with what appears to be warpaint, and trim hips beckon me.
The stirrings of desire build low in my pelvis, then swirl there, gathering strength until I feel the drumbeat of arousal lower, as it pulses in my clit.
A dim recess of my mind wonders why I feel so calm, why I have no fear, but I continue to approach him until we’re almost toe to toe. I look up into his face and notice the sharp planes of his cheekbones, the warm gold of his eyes.
After laying down his bow, he grips both of my shoulders in his huge, calloused hands. Everything about him is warm, not just the expression on his face, but his skin—heat radiates off him.
My nipples prick, desperate to be held in his large palms.
A little moan escapes me as he wordlessly dips his head toward me, eliminating the distance between us. When he finally kisses me, just a simple kiss, just lip on lip, I moan even louder as I release everything I’ve been holding back for so long.
Gone is the tightly wound woman who never wanted to share herself with anyone. I banish her, wishing for the briefest moment I could slay her. I want this, and make the conscious decision to allow it.
He pulls my shirt over my head and tugs my pants off before I’m truly aware it’s happening. I’m not embarrassed, though. On the contrary, I’m enthralled. He proceeds more slowly as he removes his leather loincloth. As impatient as he was to see me, it’s as if he’s allowing me time to savor his body.
And savor I do. With every mouthwatering inch he reveals, my body’s need spikes higher.
He cocks an eyebrow in silent question as if to ask if I want this. I soundlessly nod. Part of the magic of what’s happening is that we haven’t exchanged a word.
Dipping his mouth to the curve of my neck, he kisses, then licks, then bites me there. I feel his sharp canines before I see them. He pulls his head back to gaze at me, then allows his lips to curl into a wider smile than he showed before. He’s getting all the preliminaries out of the way, attempting to ease all my fears by exposing long, vicious white teeth.
Does he think they might frighten me? They don’t. I find them attractive. They’re different, tempting. I want to know how they’ll feel on my tongue, or lower, when that soft-lipped mouth explores me in other ways.
To answer his silent question, I approach him. Leaning on tiptoe, I slide my arms around his neck and pull him closer for another kiss. Within a moment, our tongues mingle and I learn how to avoid his deadly canines in order to garner pleasure, only pleasure.
His fingers tighten around my shoulders as he pulls me as close as two people can be. His head moves, dipping and bending as he plies me with kisses.
My mind is in too many places at once. I’m loving his mouth on mine and the war he’s waging as we thrust and parry. I’m also noticing the tight points of my nipples as they drag against the warm skin of his chest.
When his leg bends and he nestles his thigh between my legs, nudging them apart, then pressing on my clit, I think I’ll lose
my mind. I don’t though, I just moan, then dip my legs to gather more pressure from his obliging leg.
He slides his hands from my shoulders, down my back, and along my sides to my breasts. His thumbs strum my hardened buds in unison, causing me to suck in a surprised breath as pleasure bursts throughout my body.
Now he’s plucking them, and the feeling is so intense they ache from the exquisite pleasure.
We could go on like this forever—it feels that good—but I don’t want to. I want release. Urgently.
My hands have been lodged on his chest, but I liberate them from their perch and allow their slow slide down soft skin covering solid muscle. They travel southward, over hardened male nipples and rippling washboard abs, following the happy trail of hair below his navel until they find the prize. The proud staff jutting between us.
I smile in realization when I find it’s too thick for my fingers to reach around. While avoiding speech, I relay my appreciation with a feline noise of pleasure. He rewards me with a hard kiss on my lips and another nip of those sharp teeth on the column of my throat.
My hand still on his granite-hard cock, he grips my thigh, then glides higher. His hand slips between my legs, and one finger slides between my damp folds. He grunts his pleasure as his fingers slick along the slit, lubricating the way.
One finger enters me, then another, as he develops a rhythm. My hand abandons its post on his cock and my nails bite into his pecs, then I tip my head back, letting it loll there as I bask in his ministrations.
I try not to marvel at his dexterity as he presses into me with two fingers while his talented thumb swipes in circles at the side of my clit.
My gaze finds his as I pant in pleasure. Lifting one leg and pressing my heel against the back of his thigh, I open myself to his attentions until the passion swirling inside me increases and doubles and redoubles until I can’t hold back the tides any longer.
I’m bowled over by the force of my orgasm as it sweeps through me like a tidal wave. It doesn’t build in increments. No, it slams into me, crashes over me, and pulls words from my mouth even though I hadn't wanted to speak.
“Oh! Good! Oh!” The words mean nothing. They’re mindless expressions of my pleasure.
Just as my muscles relax, shoulders sagging, my leg traveling back to the ground, he grunts, nips his canines along my shoulder, and his fingers start their assault again.
I circle my arms around his neck, his body dipped low enough for me to easily reach, and give myself over to the magic of his hand.
With his thumb circling and his fingers pounding into me, my next orgasm barrels at me so fast I don’t even know it’s coming until it bursts through me like a supernova. My muscles grip deep in my pelvis, then the spasms radiate throughout my body. My teeth clench and my toes curl with the force of the pleasure slicing through every cell of my body.
Before the bliss completely dissipates, I grip his cock and nudge it right where it belongs.
“Yes,” I say.
He eases himself into my warm, wet, waiting channel as I feel every inch of him. He’s hot. And big. So big I have to widen my stance and tip my pelvis forward to make his entry easier.
The feel of him inside me is paradise. That first breach as he stretches me is almost enough to put me over the edge again. My focus is singular as my mind follows his progress, noting every bump and ridge as well as the burn of acceptance as I open myself to him.
He stands taller and lifts me as if I’m light as a leaf on the wind. I grip his shoulders and hang on for the ride as he pounds into me. Our gazes lock for a moment, then he tips his head back in ecstasy, still thrusting in a rhythm as old as time.
My sensitized clit feels every slide and grind as he impales himself on me over and over. With every plunge, I feel his hot length and girth. All I need to do is decide I want to come, and I fly over the edge again. As soon as I find the energy to open my eyes, I see the grimace of pleasure squeeze his face as he releases into me with a growl.
Dipping his head, he bites my shoulder with lip-covered teeth. Perhaps it’s because I don’t protest, but he peels his lips away and allows his sharp canines to score me. Two razor-thin lines mark my pale flesh. He tries to hide the smallest smile, proud of the symbol of his possession. I like it, too.
I’m boneless. I lay my head on his chest and allow myself a moment to bask in this pleasure.
Maybe it’s a noise that awakens me, or maybe my mind refused to allow me one more moment of the peace and joy this dream provided.
My eyes fly open, regretfully informing me I’m back in my cabin on board the Fool’s Errand. Immediately, my thoughts slip into normal Willa mode. I want to scold myself for my sexy dream, figure out what time it is, and hurry to the shower to get ready for another day aboard this vessel.
Maybe it’s that the dream was too exquisite, too perfect, but I refuse to jump into my workday routine. I decide to give myself a few minutes of pleasure, as if the huntsmen himself gave me permission.
My hand sneaks between my legs, finding myself drenched and ready. My little clit is plump and aroused. Grazing my fingers across it, I find it’s shockingly sensitized. I circle my clit, just as the huntsman did in my dream. Closing my eyes I order my body to relax and enjoy this. Being able to give myself pleasure isn’t a crime, I remind myself.
Although my mind just had several mind-bending orgasms, my body is still desperate for release. It’s the work of a moment to circle my clit, pressing just a bit harder in increments until I allow myself the gratification of flying over the edge.
This time, the release isn’t imaginary. My muscles spasm in bliss as they clench and release in a banquet of pleasure.
I float back into my body, open my shuttered eyes, and see WarDog, paws on the bed, huge face an inch from mine, head cocked in interest. His hot breath fans my face.
“WarDog! Once every week or so you’ve got to give me ten minutes of alone time. Ten minutes! It’s all I ask.”
He inches closer and nudges me with his soft, wet black nose. Somehow, that doesn’t seem like enough of an apology.
Now that I’m fully awake, all the circumstances of my life come crashing back to me. Three months ago I was stolen from my bed in Benson, Texas, and crammed aboard an alien transport ship.
Aliens, yeah. Who knew? Well, actually, I’d always believed in them, but the reality that they existed was still a shock. The tusky boar-like aliens, called Urluts, stole me and transferred me to a different vessel for transport to auction.
It was on that ship where I met a few gladiators, another Earth girl, Aerie, and WarDog. The five of us were rescued by the good people of this ship.
People. It’s a term I guess I should use loosely. There are a bunch of Earth women on board. All of us were abducted at various times. All the males, though, are aliens. The males hail from every nook and cranny of the galaxy, most are different species from each other. They have one thing in common; they were all gladiator slaves.
Most of the people on this ship were imprisoned on a slave ship less than a year ago and somehow overthrew their masters. Many of them have become couples over the months they’ve been together.
Rather than focus on the fact that I could be back in my real life in Texas, I try to thank my lucky stars every single day that I was rescued from slavery and am aboard this ship as a free woman.
We travel the galaxy trying to earn enough credits to evade our former owners, the MarZan cartel, who are still looking for us.
Many of the males still fight in gladiatorial matches to earn money, though no one fights to the death. There are other matches, where the stakes aren’t that high, where they get to display their prowess and earn credits. Some don’t want to fight anymore, so they’ve found other ways to contribute, but the ones who do compete seem to enjoy their gladiatorial bouts.
A few of the women earn money, like Grace who sells her music. Aerie has made herself indispensable by wangling more credits for the gladiators’ matches. S
he uses the negotiating skills she honed as an attorney back on Earth.
And me? I’m still flailing. I help out everywhere I can—the laundry, the kitchen, cleaning. Everyone reassures me that my contribution is enough, but I never quite believe that.
I’m most at home helping Star in the hydroponics labs on both ships. I loved working in the garden and fields back in Texas, and although I love nurturing plants and helping them grow, hydroponics doesn’t feel right. There’s just something about digging in the dirt that soothes my soul.
It’s not just my ability to stay on this ship that’s on the line, I feel responsible for WarDog.
The Urluts threw us all into the same cell together. I had just woken up on board a slave ship guarded by hideous boar-like creatures who slapped a pain/kill collar around my neck and forced me into a cell in the belly of their space vessel.
My heart was jackrabbiting fast enough to make me wonder if I was having a heart attack before I looked up to see who I had to share my cell with. There was Beast, a wall of green flesh standing in one corner, assessing me with intelligent eyes. I later learned he was a gladiator through the translator mechanism I’d been implanted with.