by Corin Cain
I’m not sure what the answer is to that – but I have a feeling it’s to make us feel more comfortable. As imperious as they are, these three Aurelians seem to have taken steps to reassure us that we’re safe at every turn.
Wondering if this announcement will demonstrate more of that behavior, we turn to Daran as he addresses us.
“Sit,” he commands, and my legs buckle at his voice and deposit me down on the couch without even thinking about it.
Fuck! I don’t know what this guy does to me, but every time Daran orders me to do something, I respond before I can even process the thought.
What… What if he tells me to suck?
What if he tells me to get down on my knees and suck his big, Aurelian cock? Will I obey then?
I blush at the intrusive thought – but my eyes trail down to the front of Daran’s sleekly-tailored pants, where I see an enormous and clearly-defined bulge.
Oh, Gods!
It’s huge.
I’ve heard all the stories, of course – but actually seeing the outline of an Aurelian’s cock up close…
…and knowing that he’s flaccid?
That’s something else, and I involuntarily squeeze my thighs together at the sight of it.
I finally find the strength to drag my eyes back upward… and my cheeks burn hotly.
To my chagrin, I realize that Daran’s been staring at me this entire time. I definitely just got caught checking out his package.
Oops.
“There are seventy women in our harem on Taton,” Daran eventually starts, his voice deep and bold.
Well, that cured my arousal real quick!
Seventy?
Instant anger. Red hot rage flares up inside of me. Tiana is sitting next to me, and what makes it all worse is that to her, hearing this seems like the most natural thing in the world. She’s obviously totally nonplussed to hear Daran boast about the number of… whores he has…
…but it pisses me off to no end.
One woman not good enough for you? Three? Ten? Twenty? You have to have seventy, and that still isn’t enough?
It makes me so sick to know that there are women who actively seek out this kind of arrangement – willingly beg to join an Aurelian harem. I don’t care how good-looking these imperious alien bastards are – nothing could be worth the shame of being just one more cunt in a sea of warm, wet, willing holes all eager to serve the same alien masters.
“All seventy of our harem were bought at slave auction, just like you,” Daran continues, oblivious to my anger at him. “But know this. We are not slavers. If you want to leave, you may do so – at any time. We will grant you passage to any planet in this system.”
I blink.
Any planet in this system?
Okay, this is all a start. Firstly, I’m not a slave – I really can just leave.
The chances of lucking into that kind of arrangement – as the unwilling participant of a slave-auction – are incredible. I thank the Gods that these Aurelians bought me, and to a certain extent I even soften my disdain of them.
At the same time, my brain processes this new information.
It’s a start. I can ask them whichever is the safest planet to brought to, and from there get in contact with my employer. He’ll pay to fly me out – especially when I tell him that I got taken by slavers.
Oblivious to my thoughts, the Aurelian keeps speaking:
“My name is Daran Misrani. My father, Don Misrania, was the most powerful man on Taton - before he was betrayed. I have come back to my planet to reclaim my throne.”
Don. One of those curious words that translates from Old-Earth languages to those of alien civilizations. It means the head of a criminal organization – like ‘The Godfather’ from Old-Earth legend.
Daran continues:
“Taton is dangerous – make no mistake. The only place I can keep you safe is our manor on the outskirts of the city. We will spend one week in deep, safe space, and then we’ll offer you a choice: To join our harem on Taton, knowing that you’ll spend the rest of your time confined to the safety of our mansion, or you can choose to go free to any planet in this system – and we’ll provide you with enough money to get a fresh start.”
I swallow hard. It’s all becoming clear. This guy isn’t just a Rogue Aurelian. He’s a fucking gangster...
…and a really, really sexy one at that.
Again, I can’t help but find my disdain for these three aliens diminishing.
Of course, Daran can’t let women from his own planet join his harem, or he wouldn’t be able to keep them or their families safe.
I can give him a pass for the whole buying slaves at auction thing now, especially since he said he’d let us go free if we chose to – and even give us enough money for a fresh start.
But Daran and his battle-brothers aren’t off the hook yet. The whole ‘seventy women in his harem’ thing? That I can’t let go so quickly!
Brandy leans forward, pressing her tits out. “H-How will you know if we’re Bonded to you?”
I wince. She’s painfully obvious. Everyone in this room knows that the only way to find out if you’re Bonded with an Aurelian is to fuck one.
Daran plays along with Brandy’s feigned innocence.
“Through a coupling.”
Brandy pretends to blush, lifting her hand to her chest in a display of mock-innocence.
Daran ignores her theatrics.
“You. What is your name?”
I gulp. He’s staring right at me.
Through me, even.
“P-Petra,” I stammer, and I’m glad I even remembered my own name. With those flint eyes staring at you so intently? You could easily forget who you were.
“Petra. Petra,” Daran repeats again, tasting my name on his tongue. He runs his hand through his fine, cropped black beard. “Petra, come to my chambers.”
Oh, shit.
It’s painfully obvious what he just told me to do.
I almost stand up and follow him. My body aches to, but I push down my primal lust for the alien and stay planted on the spot.
Every woman in the room except for Tiana stares death at me. Every single one of them wishes that Daran was inviting them to his room.
“Uh. No. No, no, no. Not happening,” I say quickly, shaking my head.
Daran frowns, his eyebrows knitting together.
“I saw the way you stared at my body, Petra. You don’t have to hide your attraction to me. There’s no shame in it.”
He speaks reasonably, but there’s a darkness in his voice. Daran’s shoulders rise, as if he’s a beast imprisoned in the cage of a well-tailored suit.
Fuck! I shouldn’t have stared at his crotch! But how big is that thing?
I shake my head.
Don’t think about that! Don’t think about that!
“Look, buddy,” I say, and I wince when his eyes harden. I amp-up the respect in my tone. “Look, Daran Misrania…” That appears to be a better term to address this gangster with. “I’m really grateful that you saved me from a horrible, horrible fate... I mean, those Toads? Gods damn, that would have been horrific!”
Dammit, Daran just stairs at me – his slate-grey eyes like stone.
I’m flustered, but I continue talking:
“S-So… Thank you. But I’m not interested. Could you ship me off to the nearest safe planet so I can get back to my regular life, please?”
The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. Part of me – okay, a very specific part between my legs – half-wishes that Daran will refuse my demand...
…or that he’d grab me by the arm and drag me into his chambers... That he’d call me his property and make me feel like he owns my fucking soul.
But the rest of my body – the rational part – is telling me that being attracted to this dangerous, alien gangster is absolute insanity.
Daran reaches forward, taking Brandy by the wrist. He strides out of the room, dragging her behind him, leaving me
speechless.
Instant jealousy engulfs me.
I’ve never felt anything like this. My jaw opens in a gape and I know I look like an idiot…
But, seriously. I thought that Daran was going to fight a little harder.
The way he’d just stared at me – the way he looked at me like the other six women he’d purchases were nothing…
…that was all just a lie.
I suddenly feel like a stupid little girl, for ever thinking that a man with a harem of seventy different women would ever choose just one.
Chose me.
Tiana grabs my arm. “Wow! I would have gone with him for sure.”
She looks wistful and I bite my lip. Now, thanks to me words, that’s no longer a possibility.
I’m not sure if I’m relieved, or disappointed. I can only imagine what would have happened in Daran’s chambers.
Would he have been gentle? Or rough?
Rough.
I know instantly that he’d be rough. There’s an anger to him. There’s something bubbling under the surface of Daran that desires to unleash itself on a helpless but eager victim.
A victim like me.
I’m suddenly struck by a needy, powerful ache to see what Daran’s body looks like beneath his dress shirt and suit. I want to feel his powerful muscles under my fingertips, and to reach down and squeeze that huge bulge inside his pants.
I want to make that huge, dangerous man jump to attention with the touch of my fingers.
No man has ever made me feel small before. I’m a big girl – curvy and womanly – and yet when I’m near Daran?
Daran makes me feel like a toy. Under his massive bulk I’d feel like a little doll – utterly powerless, and helpless to do anything except what he commanded.
7
Daran
Brandy is bubbling.
The blonde woman walks behind me, struggling to keep up with my quick pace. Her nipples are already hard beneath her slip of a dress. I can already smell her arousal. It should taste sweet…. My senses should be quickening.
She could be my mate.
Any human female could be my mate – and usually the moments before the first coupling are the sweetest. The moments when we still both believe that she could be my fated mate – that incalculably impossible miracle of a woman able to bear my sons – usually brings up such pressing desire that I can’t even think…
But now rage builds and boils up inside me instead.
Petra.
All seven of the women we’d bought – yes, including her – had stared at me with equal lust. It’s only proper for their weak and small species to look at Aurelian warriors with adoration…
…and yet, instead of coming with me, Petra had refused.
I couldn’t believe it. Her tone was almost – almost – insolent enough for me to have picked her up and spanked her bottom until it was the same color as her burning cheeks. I’d have pulled that grey dress up, exposed that gorgeous, round behind, and painted it with hard spanks of my palm until Petra learned to speak to me with respect.
But there’s something deeper than just lust with her… Something that just feels right…
I won’t ruin that.
“I’ve heard all about how amazing Aurelians are in bed,” Brandy chirps obliviously from behind me, her voice dripping with need. She’s lustful – like a bitch in heat. I ignore her, though – the anger building up inside of me as I open the door to my chambers.
My own chambers – what a luxury. This is no Reaver – the usual battle craft of Aurelian warrior triads. My ship is half-transport, half-combat vessel; and yet it’s outfitted top to bottom for leisure as well as battle.
Brandy gasps as she sees my room.
“That bed is sooooo nice,” she proclaims, running and jumping up right onto my custom-made bed. Even a king-size mattress of human standards is too small for an Aurelian. I had mine built especially.
To the right of the bed is my desk, where I spend hours running over figures. There’s a glamorous side to crime – but behind it all are the same spreadsheets, risk analysis, and careful planning that legal businesses have to deal with.
Brandy sprawls out on the bed, playing with her thighs.
She should be waking up the mating instinct inside of me. Any other time, I’d already be forcing myself not to lose control and plunge every inch of my cock into her tight little slit...
But something is wrong. My cock doesn’t harden involuntarily. My heart doesn’t pound in my ears.
“Brandy…”
I say her name. It’s a statement, not a question.
The blonde looks up from the bed at the sound of her name.
I turn to her, and ask: “What did you do, before you were captured?”
I’m trying to distract myself from the growing frustration. The thought of taking her – even hard, and fast, and roughly – holds no allure for me.
Damn the Gods! I know instinctively that she is not my mate…
…although it’s impossible to tell before a coupling.
Surely…
Brandy pouts. She’s disappointed that I’m not already on top of her, losing myself in the famed Aurelian mating frenzies she must have heard about.
“I was a masseuse,” she says.
Later I’d hear she’d told Riff she was a bartender, and others that she was a saleswoman, or a hostess. Each story she believed, even though each was contradictory.
But at the time, the story sounded plausible enough.
I nod. My body is tense and taut since I was denied by that gorgeous, curvaceous specimen who called herself Petra. Even if my sexual knots can’t be satisfied, maybe my physical ones can.
“She refused you?”
It’s the telepathic thought from Kreos. He’s piloting the ship, while Riff mans the guns. Until we’re in safe space – in just ten minutes or so – we’ll need at least two of us on duty at all times.
We never served in the Aurelian army – which means, in addition to not having Orb-Weapons granted to us, we didn’t receive a Reaver with an Orb-Drive that can bend and warp through reality. It’s traditional space travel for us – long distances, and long periods between them.
Even though his voice resonates inside my head, I don’t answer Kreos. He knows damn well that Petra refused me. If she hadn’t, he’d already be feeling my passion through the Bond right now – instead of the building rage that boils inside me like magma.
I ache for that sassy little wench, even though she refused me so primly. I ache to spread her legs and watch the look in her eyes as she loses control. I ache to make her surrender to the pleasure I can give her. Petra needs to feel the coupling – and then she’ll never refuse me again.
I snap my fingers at Brandy and sit down on the bed.
“Massage me.”
I know I shouldn’t take out my anger on this poor woman, but it’s hard to keep my civility when every muscle in my body is telling me to leave this room, grab Petra by the arm, throw her against the wall and kiss her until she melts away.
I fight those impulses back. I will never take her by force. I’ve killed men for less insult than she gave me with her insolent tone… But I’ll still not become a beast.
Brandy smiles. “You’ll need to take that off.” She’s motioning to my jacket.
I pull off my jacket and unbutton my dress shirt slowly, button by button. Brandy’s eyes go wide as she takes in my body. Unlike Kreos, I have no tattoos – and despite my many battles I have yet to be marked by a scar. My skin is pure white compared to the deep tan of her own nubile body.
“Wow.”
It’s single word she utters, but Brandy’s voice is full of lust when she says it.
I’m gratified, but also angry. This human female, as beautiful as she is, simply doesn’t inflame the mating instinct in me – and as such, her sultry tone does nothing for me.
I wait, lying on the bed and letting her hands run over my body. A sigh comes out of my mouth
, unbidden, as I feel her strong and skilled fingers on my muscles.
For just a moment, the rage boiling up in me calms. She truly is an expert.
“You know, I can do much more than just… massage,” Brandy whispers in my ear.
I turn my head. “I do not wish to mate with you. Do not speak. Just massage.”
I don’t even want to hear another word out of her mouth. I know that I’m being rude, even by Aurelian standards, but if I have to speak with her any longer I might snap.
Instead, I try to relax – and I let her tiny hands travel all over the tense muscles of my body. I might have spurned her sexual advances, but I can’t deny the pleasure she brings me with her agile and skilled fingers and thumbs – pulling aches and strains out of me that I didn’t know existed.
There’s a tension in me, and I know the cause…
Petra.
Petra, Petra, Petra…
I will have you on your knees, Petra. I will have you begging to take my seed.
I growl, and Brandy darts back in shock and fear. Realizing I scared her, I give a gesture of reassurance with my hand, and she nervously resumes her work.
8
Petra
“She is soooo lucky,” swoons Karen.
At least, I think it’s Karen. I’m trying my best to remember all the names, but it’s tough enough getting the identities of six women in my head. The fact that the very mention of one of them makes my blood boil doesn’t help the process.
Brandy. That simpering little slut. I can’t believe Daran sees something in her!
Ugh. I need to not think about what they’re doing right now.
“I’m shocked we can’t hear it right now. I’ve heard that Aurelians are Gods in bed,” the girl called Rebecca murmurs. She’s a dark-skinned beauty with full, red lips that make me instantly feel jealous. I hate that I’m feeling resentment for all these other women. They were bought in equally unfortunate circumstances as me. I should be feeling solidarity towards them…
…but I’m feeling jealous and insecure instead.