I grip my cock and squeeze. I feel so overcome by need that my head is swimming, and I am not in control of my actions. I don't think I've been in control of my actions since the moment I first laid eyes on her.
I can only see her backside from this view. But once the tub is full, she steps inside and turns to me. She rests in the water and her breasts float on the surface.
She closes her eyes, and I imagine that she's thinking of me. Thinking of us doing the most primal of dances. Our bodies pressed together, hot and hungry.
She grasps her breasts. I squeeze my cock and begin to stroke. She is thinking of me. I smile wickedly, knowing that I have her. Knowing that soon this will not just be a case of voyeurism.
Soon we will be together, hot and sweaty in my bed. I will take her triumphantly like the king of the jungle takes his mate, sliding my throbbing hot cock in and out of her wet little pussy.
On the screen, I see her slide her hand between her legs. I groan at the sight of it. She’s stroking herself as I stroke my own sex.
It is so fucking hot I can't take it. My mind is humming and I feel as if my heart is about to burst out of my chest.
I wish she were watching me right now as I watch her. I slide my hand up and down my shaft as she plays with herself in the bath. It is excruciating.
She groans, her eyes closed as she slides her fingers inside her pussy. I watch and absolute awe, furiously stroking my shaft.
I squeeze, thrust, and grit my teeth. My climax is barreling towards me. On the screen, her lips are parted. She groans and arches her back as her orgasm spikes through her blood.
With a loud growl, I come. Semen spurts from the head of my cock, erupting in jets of white milk like a deep underground geyser bursting into the air.
I let out a deep throaty moan as the last aftershocks of my climax throbs through my body.
As my cock goes soft, I release my flesh and watch in shock as shock flashes over Madeline's face.
I feel as if we are both caught up in the same chaotic emotions. The same intensity of attraction and desire. We have both been overwhelmed by it.
I wash my hands and my body and replace my clothing. Madeline finishes washing her hair and face on the screen before climbing out of the bath and wrapping herself in a robe.
She disappears into her bedroom. I turn off the screen and move my attention to my to-do list. I have communication calls to make and papers to attend to. I bring up the last documents from the previous Council meeting up on my tablet.
I delve into the documents that require signatures. I am focused on my tablet for several hours, barely coming up from the requirements of my position for more than a few minutes to grab a glass of water or a cup of tea.
The light is fading outside my window. And soon the time for our evening meal will arrive. I have a conference call scheduled for four o'clock through five o'clock.
After the call, I will meet Madeline in the dining room for our first meal together. I wish that I could spend the day with her, laughing and talking and getting to know her. Kissing her, stroking her cheek, sliding my hands between her thighs.
But being king is more than just a title. It is more than just bossing people around and getting what I want.
I accept the duty of my station with resolve. I work for twelve to sixteen hours a day. And the reprieve from those responsibilities to retrieve my match was a small break from the relentless work of being king.
I bring up the faces of the members of the Council on my screen. The greatest priority of Mars right now is the matching program.
Five dozen girls were rescued from the Mantis ship. But that is a small percentage of females to males. The jealousy and infighting is already beginning, and the announcement that I have found my match hasn't even occurred yet.
Not every male will be matched with a female in this generation. And it is something that I have tried to get into the general consciousness since before the timegate was even activated.
It is an extremely precise calculation to get to Earth through the timegate. We could not risk altering any events that would have interfered with the progress of Mars.
The only way to bring more females back to Mars would be to rescue another ship. And that is simply not a possibility until we pass the event horizon.
The mating program has only just started. We can't take any risks that would jeopardize what is already working.
Doris Gray is with child. It is a girl. The next generation of females will be born. We will save our race and our society. And it will all be accomplished during my reign.
As I speak to the Council, a rush of pride fills me. I have accomplished much during my kingship. But there is still so much more to be done.
I have now to secure my own mating. My courtship with the beautiful Madeline Weber has only just begun. And while I have no problems fantasizing about her as I relieve my sexual tension, I have not yet won her heart or her body.
I am fully confident that I will have no problem in that department. I am king, and my confidence in myself is unshakable.
But there is the tiniest voice of apprehension at the very back of my mind. What if she doesn't want me? What if she refuses me? What if I cannot make her love me and submit to my desire?
It is unthinkable. And I will not entertain such thoughts for more than a few seconds.
I am lost in thought when Malico Ossi repeats my name and asks me if there's something the matter. I break out of the haze of sexual fantasy and doubt to answer his question.
“The Martians who are a match for these females will be the only ones who get to have mates. It is a reality that we have been preparing for for decades. If the men cannot accept this, there will be harsh consequences.”
The continuation of our species and the security of the future of Mars is my only priority. I do not care about anything else when it comes to the mating program.
These females must always be treasured. We must operate with what we have already accomplished. The males do not get to choose their own mates. It is up to the scientists to find the perfect genetic match for our program. This was all decided. This uprising of agitation is unacceptable.
“We have already voted as a planet that this would be how we’d proceed.”
“Now that you have been matched with your own human female, the question of fairness will intensify,” says Admiral Raylon Bishto.
“If I wasn't matched with one of these females, I wouldn't have had a match. We all know this. I had to wait just like everyone else.”
“You were not exactly patient in being matched. And you did use your authority to have your instinct verified,” says Malico Ossi.
“This is not something that needs to be made public. I did not force the mating to be verified inaccurately, correct?” I am suddenly in a panic that Madeline is not my true match.
“Your match is absolutely scientifically valid. You and Madeline Weber are the ideal genetic match. But there will be talk. And we already see a rebellion forming,” Malico Ossi continues.
“Why are you saying this?”
“The men are not happy. There have even been scientists who have objected, against all rationality. They want to take their chances to have the opportunity to woo these women on their own,” says lead scientist Malico Ossi.
“Impossible. This is the only way that it will be fair for anyone. And it is the only way that will be acceptable for the women. Could you imagine if millions of Martian men were suddenly courting them?
“They would be overwhelmed. It is better for them to do it this way. If the female doesn't like the man she's been matched with, then she may choose someone else. But we have been over the science a thousand times. Rejecting a perfect genetic match is highly improbable.
“We have done everything in our power to assure that. And I agree with you completely. We've been over this hundreds of times. But we did not accurately project the reaction of the masses, or ourselves.”
7
&nb
sp; Madeline
I stand in front of the mirror, examining my outfit. I paid special attention to how I dressed tonight. This is my first opportunity to get in good with Damious.
As King of Mars, he has the power to do almost anything. From what I understand about the Martian political system, the king has a great deal of power. Much more than a president or prime minister back on Earth, even though the Council seems to function as a legislative body.
I bite my lip and turn around in the mirror. I know my plan to influence him is not the only reason I want to look good.
I want to see that desire in his eyes. He is so freaking sexy. And being around him drives me crazy. I don't know what to do with myself.
It feels like I am losing my mind. I think about the fantasy I had in the bathtub. My face flushes with embarrassment. I don't know how I'm going to face him after that.
I'm wearing a long flowing dress that hugs my torso and flows down to my ankles. On Earth, it would be called a maxi dress, but the style is slightly different on Mars. The waist is lower and hugs more of my curves.
I wonder what Damious will think of me in this. I have never been what you might call “boy crazy.” And now that I'm on Mars and the stakes are so much higher, it is hard for me to deal with myself like this.
I slip into my shoes and finish the last touches of my makeup before walking to the front door of my suite. The rooms at the bridal mansion were luxurious, but this place is on a whole other level.
When the door slides open, I find Damious standing on the other side. He's holding a bouquet of roses, and I am shocked to see it. I don't really know why. If he was just a boy back on Earth, I would just think it was sweet. But I guess I didn't expect a Martian to understand something like bringing your date flowers.
“I brought these for you. I hope you like them.”
“They're lovely.”
I take the bouquet of roses and bring the buds to my face to take a deep inhalation of their alluring scent. They are enticingly fragrant. Like perfume in a bundle of beauty. It is strange to find roses on Mars, but also somehow slightly relieving.
“I wasn't expecting this,” I tell him.
“Why not?” he asks.
“I guess I didn't realize that there were flowers on Mars,” I say with a laugh.
“We have many things on Mars I hope that you will find equally pleasing,” he says in a low, husky voice.
I can't help but sense the suggestiveness in his tone. He purses his lips and clears his throat as if he didn't mean to appear to be suggesting that it would be him I would find pleasing.
Just being around him makes me want to jump in his arms and wrap my legs around his waist. It makes me feel insane. But that is what my body is saying and doing to me.
It's part of the genetic matching process. I learned all about it from Doris. We were given an injection of serum aboard the ship, and it helped ensure that the genetic match would be viable. However, the desire I feel for him is so overpowering I'm losing my mind.
“I should put these in water,” I say, stepping backwards into the suite.
There is a cabinet with glasses, and I open it to shuffle through the dishes and finally find something I can use as a vase. He stands behind me and watches as I fill the vase with water and dip the roses into it.
I set the vase on my round dining table and look at it.
“There. That looks nice,” I say to him.
“Not as nice as you,” he says in that same husky voice.
I turn to him with shock on my face. I try to change my expression. But it's too late. He's already seen it.
“I'm sorry. Was that inappropriate?”
“No.” I laugh nervously. “Not at all. Do you like my outfit?” I step back and hold out the skirt of my dress.
“It looks beautiful on you.”
“Thank you. I wasn't sure what to wear.”
“You could wear anything. Or nothing… and you would look just as lovely.”
“Thank you.” I laugh again, not quite sure how to take his strangely sexual compliment.
“Shall we proceed to the dining room?”
“I think that would be a good idea,” I say.
It's like I am walking on a cloud that could disappear from under my feet at any moment and send me hurtling down into the darkness forever. But I hope that he will catch me if I fall.
We walk out of my suite and down the hall to an elevator. We go to a lower floor that opens out onto a large room with a long wide table that could seat probably a hundred people.
The table is set for two, and he pulls out a chair for me to sit beside the head of the table. I slide into the seat and he pushes in my chair for me. I'm caught off guard by the strangely old-fashioned gentlemanly behavior from my Martian host.
I've literally never seen anyone do that before except in old movies.
He slides into the chair beside me and lifts the covers off the dishes. There's lobster and steak, vegetables and fruit. Tiny breads and other delicacies.
He dishes up my plate, giving me a little bit of everything. I watch him as he works. When he finishes, I fork a piece of lobster dripping in butter and garlic and bring it to my mouth. I groan with pleasure at the flavor.
“This is so good,” I say.
“I'm glad you like it,” he says. “My cook prepared it specially for tonight. I asked him to make us a feast for our first date together.”
He lifts a glass of wine. “May it be the first of many.”
I'm not sure what to say, so I simply copy his motion and lift my own wine glass. I don't know how I feel about being matched with Damious. Not in the logical side of my brain, at least.
I know how my body feels about it. It won't stop screaming for me to jump in his lap.
Being matched with the king could help me save my sister. But the idea of being matched with this man, giving him children, I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that.
It's not like I don’t want kids. Before the invasion, I expected to eventually get married and have a family of my own. But I thought that would be far off in the future. Not something that would be happening today.
I still had three years of college left. And then a career after that. But now everything is different.
The rules on Earth no longer apply. I don't need money. I don't need anything. Now that I am cherished simply for my womanhood. I suppose I’ll have to get used to the new expectations. Will I ever get used to it? I don't know. Do I have a choice? I don't think I do.
I am grateful and don't have any real ethical objections to being rescued and brought to Mars to save the human race, but it is disorienting and something that I haven't quite processed yet.
I decide that the best course of action is just to try to get to know Damious as a person. My primary objective is to convince him to bring Abigail here. I know that means that she will share my fate in being matched with the Martian. But that's far better than dying on Earth or being eaten by Mantises.
We eat our meal, and every bite is more delicious than the last. And I ask him about his life on Mars and his experience as king. Every moment of his life was dedicated to training. He trained for twelve to sixteen hours a day from the time he was five years old.
“Being king has its advantages. But it also comes with a great deal of responsibility,” he explains as he takes a bite of dessert.
“And what would that make me? Queen?” I ask, feeling stupid for even bringing up the question.
“Of course. You are my match. My wife, to use the Earth term. And therefore queen. Our children will be heirs to the throne of Mars. It is a great blessing that you are here, Madeline Weber. All of Mars owes you a debt of gratitude.”
“It’s hard to imagine myself in that role. I’m just a college girl. I don’t really deserve it.”
“Regardless of whether or not you feel it's deserved, you are my match and therefore it is unquestionably deserved.”
“Because I won the genetic lottery
?”
“Indeed,” he says with zero irony. “The original kings became so because of their genetic ability to lead. Why should you not be queen for the same reason?”
“I guess you have a point,” I say.
“Now tell me about your life back on Earth. I want to know everything there is to know about Madeline Weber.”
I go on to tell him about my parents and sister, about my accomplishments, and achievements in sports and school. I want to tell him about Abigail.
I want to tell him how much I need him to help me get her back. But I hesitate. What if he says no? If he denies me right off the bat, then I will have lost my opportunity.
I need to bide my time. So I don't bring it up. After dessert, he asks me if I would like to see the rest of his property. I agree readily and we walk down the stairs to the front door that leads out into the gardens.
He has beautiful gardens that would be at home in any old European castle. Boxwood hedges and flowers whose fragrance flows in the soft breeze. We walk past what looks like stables and I stop to ask him if he has horses.
“Yes. Our ancestors were determined to breed something of a Noah's Ark and brought with them as many live animals as they possibly could. Horses were among them.”
“I love horseback riding. But I've only gotten a chance to do it a couple of times in my life.”
“You will have the opportunity to do it anytime you'd like. Would you like to go now?”
“I'm not dressed for riding. But maybe tomorrow.”
“Very well.”
“Will you come with me?” I ask.
“Yes. If you would like.”
“I think I would enjoy that.”
“It's a date then.”
I feel giddy for some reason. It's silly and strange that I should be so excited about horseback riding. But I honestly didn't expect there to be horses on Mars.
We continue walking and stand at the edge of the valley, looking over the wide expanse of the view. The sun is setting on the horizon and the colors that stream over the land are breathtaking.
My heart swells at the sight of it. The fact that I am on a different planet, in a different time, standing beside the king hits me like a tidal wave.
Alien King's Match: Alien Abduction Breeder Romance (Timegate Mars Book 2) Page 4