WarDog: Book Twelve in the Galaxy Gladiators Alien Abduction Romance Series

by Alana Khan

  My pricked nipples graze his chest as I pull him to me, my hands roaming his back. I love foreplay, and goodness knows, he’s so very good at it. But I need none now.

  Reaching between us, I capture his hard cock and stroke. Over the past few days, I’ve explored his cock, but it still fascinates me. It has three distinct parts, like three bulges stacked on top of each other. I never got my mouth past the second part, but it strikes me now that all three of those are going to be inside me in a matter of minutes. I’m not certain he'll fit. But one thing I do know, we’ll work it out.

  I slip to my knees, my hands following slowly, sliding down the hills and valleys of his ripped chest, along masculine hips, and now grasping his muscular thighs.

  I love his spicy, almost cinnamon taste, but barely snatch a taste because the water is streaming down on us. My tongue circles his head. In bed, I like to do this lazily, but there’s nothing lazy about what’s happening now. My tongue is swift and on a mission.

  Perhaps what happened on Fairea is still playing in my head, because I feel a frenzied need to stay focused on this moment—here with Bayne.

  I glance up to see him watching me and find my inner exhibitionist as I exaggerate every lick and swirl of my tongue. I add background music to my little show by moaning. His hands lodge in my hair as he shutters his eyes and tips his head back.

  I love him in this pose—the powerful gladiator reduced to weakness by a woman on her knees. His Adam’s Apple is prominent, his rounded chin pointing upward, and his hips making little thrusting movements.

  Seeing him like this fuels my excitement. Although water’s sluicing over me, I’m sure my core is wet enough with my own lubrication to accept him right here in the shower.

  Cupping his balls, I plunge onto him in one swift motion, my lips getting as far as the valley between the second and third bulge. I’ve discovered a really sensitive spot here. It wasn’t hard to find, it always garners a throaty growl when I flick it with my tongue.

  A few more pumps of my head, a few more flicks on his special spot, and Bayne jets into my mouth. His semen is hot and forceful. I love the intimacy of the act.

  He slides his hands to my shoulders and pulls me to standing, then lifts me higher until I wrap my legs around his waist. Dipping my head, I lick along the seam of his lips, then press inside his mouth, loving the taste of him, the sexy communion of our wordless exchange.

  “I’m going to make love to you, Willa. Come.”

  He turns off the shower, escorts me out, and grabs a towel to rub me dry. Even though he just came, his cock is hard again, jutting at me, ready. His eyes rake down my body, the look on his face tells me he loves what he sees.

  I grab a towel and get to work on him, not wanting to wait an extra second to get to bed. Refusing to wait for him to dry every spot, I grab his towel from him and toss it on the floor where it joins the one I discarded, then pull him into the bedroom.

  When we’re inches from the bed, I suddenly feel shy. I turn in his arms and stretch on tiptoe to kiss him.

  As frenzied as we were moments ago, everything has slowed down and become suddenly serious. He feels it too. His head cocks and his eyebrows lower in question. When he realizes he hasn’t spoken his query out loud, he says, “We can wait. We don’t have to—”

  “We’ve waited long enough, Bayne. We deserve a medal for waiting. This is going to be amazing.”

  “You’re already amazing,” he says. His words are sweet, but the look in his eyes, so warm, so full of love, is even sweeter.

  He tenderly lifts me and sets me onto the middle of the bed, then prowls from the foot of the bed on his hands and knees. Splitting me open, his hands on my knees, he’s about to put his mouth on me when he stops.

  My lids had already shuttered closed, but they pop open to see what stopped his forward motion. He’s sitting back on his heels, drinking me in with his gaze.

  “You’re so beautiful, Willa. I’m a lucky male.”

  With that, he dips his head, and the time for talking is over. He nips my inner thigh from knee to the seam of my leg. His teeth don’t hurt, but they’re not particularly gentle. The touch is incendiary. Then he adds accelerant to the fire when I feel the sharp drag of one fang as it traces a fiery path back to my knee and up again. He’s careful not to draw blood, but there’s something about the danger that he could be slicing me to ribbons that is the ultimate turn-on.

  My hands lodge in his soft ruff, then move to the top of his head to clutch there, my thumbs on the velvet of his pointed ears.

  I love this part of him. It’s his alien aspect, his differences, that remind me of both our distinctions and our similarities.

  He bends his head and spears his tongue into me. It’s shocking in its intensity, especially because there was no preamble.

  “So good, Bayne,” I whisper, even though I know so many more good things are in store for me.

  He releases a throaty growl, telling me just how good this is for him, too. Then his tongue, so thick and blunt as it pierced my channel, becomes thin and flexible when he points it and swiftly flicks my clit with dedicated precision.

  I move my hands to clench the sheets, not wanting to hurt him as my grip tightens with every increment my passion ratchets up.

  My hips thrust as I raise my knees, my heels approaching my bottom as I strain to find release. When one finger slides into my wet channel, my orgasm hits, my internal muscles clenching around him.

  My ass lifts off the bed and I ride the waves of ecstasy as his fluttering tongue and beckoning fingers milk every last drop of pleasure from my release.

  Was it only a few hours ago that I experienced one of the most terrifying moments of my life? Because now I’m relaxed and safe and loved. This moment is made all the more perfect because of what happened on Fairea.

  I love this male. I love his quiet strength and his protective impulses and his tenderness.

  “Make love with me Bayne.”

  Even with my blatant invitation, he pauses to kiss me, then nips the column of my neck and moves lower to my shoulder. His blunt front teeth scrape the tip of one nipple as his fingers pluck the other. WarDog’s close. I can feel it. It’s almost as if I can feel him lurking behind Bayne’s eyes.

  I’m so amped up from what we’ve already done and what we’re about to do that I feel my heart pounding in my clit. My channel is clenching, waiting to be filled.

  Bayne switches breasts, his mouth on the other one, stubbornly refusing to take us where we both so desperately want to go. I want to pound on his back in frustration, but I just smile, knowing he delays our gratification in order to make it better.

  Finally, I take things into my own hands—literally—by reaching between us and notching him at my channel. He would have to be made of steel to say no to this.

  Instead of plunging into me, though, he makes sure our gazes are locked, then drops one perfect kiss on my lips. He slides into me in a slow plunge.

  I’m so ready for him, so wet, so primed, but it is still an invasion. I’ve never been with a male nearly as well-endowed as Bayne. When he gets to his second bulge, he pulses in and out in order to get past the barrier.

  It is so deliciously sensual, so arousing, I feel my internal muscles spasming around him. My eyes shock open in surprise. I didn’t feel this orgasm coming. It’s a delightful mini-climax that is not only pleasurable for me, but milked Bayne’s cock to the point he grunts, trying to control his own release.

  When my muscles quit spasming, Bayne continues to press into me. His third bulge is bigger than the other two. I never thought he’d fit into me, but we’re both determined, and he finally slides all the way in, up to the hilt.

  It’s tight and rides the razor’s edge between pleasure and pain. When he begins rocking his hips against me, my awareness of pain vanishes, and all I feel is pleasure.

  I’m swimming in a pool of pleasure—no, bliss. I’m in ecstasy when I feel him pull all the way out and then drive all th
e way in again. Each bulge provides endless stimulation to the inside of my channel.

  He grunts with enjoyment every time he hits bottom. I’m surprised to hear my own moans of contentment, now so loud I imagine they can be heard all the way to the solarium.

  He quickens his pace, which puts me over the edge again, my orgasm made even more intense by having his huge cock pressing against my inner walls. He doesn’t stop, he just keeps thrusting until I’m having one long orgasm with highs and lows and pauses. It’s like a rollercoaster ride with ups and downs but it never lets up.

  Everything seems to be building to one final explosion. When it hits, it’s so potent, so overwhelming, that a scream rips from my throat. I nuzzle my head to him, somehow finding his shoulder and biting down as my eyes roll into the back of my head in ecstasy.

  He growls as his thrusts quicken for that last sprint toward pleasure, then he comes. His jets spurt into me, bathing my internal walls with his hot release. He’s a big male—every part of him—but for some reason, he feels even bigger now.

  “Um, Bayne?” I don’t know how to phrase my question.

  “We’re knotted. From listening to the other males, it appears it’s not common in all races. It will go down soon.”

  I don’t know what evolutionary purpose it serves, but it ensures I’ll get my cuddle fix every single time we make love. I like it.

  He relaxes on top of me, careful to put his weight on his forearms as he rests his head next to me, his lips on my neck, too tired to pucker. After a moment of this, he kisses me, then flips us so he’s on the bottom with me on top. We’re still connected.

  He wipes stray hair off my face, then rewards me with a grunt.

  “High praise,” I say.

  “Yes. Highest praises.”

  Oh, the look in his eyes. I think that warm, melty, lovey look in his eyes just might be better than the best-ever-sex-in-the-world that we just had.

  “I love you too,” I say.

  For some reason, I get the feeling that WarDog is close. I don’t know how I know, we’ve never discussed how it actually works inside his head. I know they share the space in there, and I know WarDog is sentient to some extent.

  I assume he didn’t just pop out now. I imagine he was present for the last hour. This doesn’t feel odd, though. It’s like a bonus.

  “I love you too, WarDog,” I say without a hint of awkwardness.

  I’m rewarded with a little chuff that sounds so WarDog, yet flies from Bayne’s mouth.

  “Lucky me,” I say with a sigh as I settle into the covers for a well-deserved nap. “When I fell for you I got a twofer.”

  Chapter Ten

  Bayne

  This is a new feeling for me. I’ve never waited to attack an enemy before. Not one intent on killing me. As I explained to Willa, on Skylose the stakes were never death. Which is why we were so completely unprepared and destroyed by the attack on our village that day over ten annums ago, we had never had to fight for our lives. We were hunters, not killers. That changes today.

  Erro and I are waiting in the forest at our assigned spot. Two other pairs of gladiators are spaced out at the edge of the trees, waiting for the signal. We’ll attack here on the ground, and fourteen other males will beam down from the ship at the same time, ensuring the element of surprise.

  As we discussed the plan, it was assumed there might be casualties on our end. We all agreed to this mission, though, tired of being on the run. We’ve been slaves long enough. We want our freedom and are willing to fight for it. The risks and possible sacrifice will be worth it.

  Willa is waiting for me on the Fool’s Errand and I imagine she’s more anxious than I am. To her credit, she never begged me not to go. It would have been awkward. As much as I care for her, I couldn’t oblige her. I’m a warrior. This is the right thing to do.

  It doesn’t mean she’s not scared for me, though. At least we had last night. I can go to my grave having experienced the love of a good female.

  The word “Now!” comes into my ear through my comm. Without hesitation, Erro and I run out of the woods into the open. This will be one of the moments most fraught with danger. We’re fully exposed, unprotected.

  My heart pounds so loudly I can feel the blood in my ears. When I fought in my canine form, my humanoid self was too buried to feel fear even though I was being led into the arena. Now, I’m aware this moment might be my last. I might never see Willa again.

  WarDog whines at that sentiment, We will succeed. I was undefeated in the arena. We will fight for our mate, avenge our mother, take vengeance for the lives taken from our pack, he assures me with total canine confidence. I take strength in his conviction.

  The fact that we’re coming from different directions will make it harder for our enemies to mow us all down, but we have about five-hundred fiertos to run before we reach the walls of the compound.

  We race silently, not wanting to call attention to our attack. Every fierto closer to the compound we get without alerting the guards keeps us all a bit safer. We’re over halfway to our destination when our comrades from the ships beam down to join us. It’s only now I hear the first laser burst.

  Faster, I tell myself, or perhaps it was my canine whispering to me. My strides elongate even as I scan the top of the wall, looking for a target. The males taught me to use a laser this morning. It’s an easy concept—point and shoot.

  I see the top of a head over the wall and decide not to fire. I don’t want to waste ammunition, nor call attention to my location without at least a chance of hitting my enemy.

  I hear a cry from my right, knowing one of my comrades has been hit. We went over this in the briefing this morning. We all agreed that stopping for a fallen comrade at this point in the attack would only result in death for both parties. Any males who are hit during the siege will lie as if dead and be picked up after the assault is over.

  Miraculously, I’m in the shade of the forty-fierto high wall without having been shot at. Most of us are here, at the door. Within a minima, Justus has placed explosives at strategic points on the door and blown it. We pour through the opening, weapons at the ready, and fire at anything that moves.

  We’re all wearing the matching outfits we’ve made. They are black leather kilts with black sashes and knee-high black boots. We look like a precision army and will be able to tell who is on our own side with the swiftest glance.

  Erro’s brother, Turk will try to stay out of sight until the fray is over. Barring that, we all know to be on the lookout for a male that looks like Erro. We don’t want to accidentally kill the male who helped us plan this.

  Two Frains approach from my left. Zar warned us of them, they are hard-shelled bug-type creatures who walk on two legs and are Daneur Khour’s preferred muscle. I blast the drackers to hell, then forge forward.

  More movement comes from my left and I almost shoot an unarmed female who appears to be carrying an armful of clean laundry. Her eyes widen as she tries to scramble backward in fear.

  “Hide!” I hiss, certain my rough voice must strike fear through her. “Don't come out until you hear no laser blasts for long minimas.” She scurries to crouch behind a dark blue couch.

  Without discussion, we split into two cohorts as we search the mansion. The sounds of yelling and fighting drift to me from my right as the other cohort encounters the enemy. A moment later, eight well-armed males halt our movement in a narrow hallway.

  Dax, the tallest of us, aims over our heads and mows many of them down with his laser. One is still firing from around a corner. We slip into doorways and peek out, taking shots when we can until we hear the unmistakable sound of a body being hit and then falling to the floor.

  Without waiting a moment, we converge in the hallway and continue to sweep the area. Heavy laser fire draws us from the right, and all of my cohort hurries in that direction. I bring up the rear, but something catches my attention. A scent.

  My inner canine howls, catching my awareness as if th
e scent alone wasn’t enough to stop me in my tracks. The memory of my mother’s head tumbling to the ground flashes through my mind, reminding me of exactly when I first smelled this odor.

  Daneur Khour.

  I’m on the second floor. I assume behind every door is a bedroom. One of them belongs to the purple bastard who ruined my life. Even if it hadn’t been covered in the briefing, I would have guessed Khour would be well-protected and well-armed.

  Having no regard for my personal safety, I use my sense of smell to find the male. Pausing at each door, I inhale, then move to the next until I’m certain I’ve found him.

  Enemy. Kill him. Remembering the situation with the vid screen, WarDog uses all his self-control not to burst out of me and through the wooden door. Instead, he steps back to allow me to use my weapon.