Bachelor Beast (Interstellar Brides® Program: The Beasts Book 1)

by Grace Goodwin

  “They are too small.” He held up his hands so I could see the size of them. “Brittle. I would break them.”

  I laughed at that, thinking of him in his beast mode trying to fuck Willow. Okay, that wasn’t a good idea because I was jealous. Bad thoughts!

  “Your thighs are thick, and I gripped all that soft flesh as I licked your pussy. I held you up with my hands on your wide ass, cupping it in my palms as I pressed you against the wall and pounded into you. I haven’t yet, but I am eager to bury my face in your lush breasts and get lost.”

  “Oh my God,” I whispered to myself as I stepped away from him but bumped into the closed door. I was wet and horny all over again. He was like a romance book on tape. I could listen to him talk about having sex with me for hours.

  “I… well, okay. More sex sounds amazing and all, but… I’m not wearing your cuffs.”

  He took a step closer, and I tipped my chin back to meet his gaze.

  “You’re my mate.”

  Slowly I shook my head. “Impossible.”

  He stilled. “You do not believe me.”

  I wasn’t going to shake my head again, so I stayed silent, pressed my palms against the door.

  “I am not here because of the Bachelor Beast. There are no cameras. No Chet Bosworth.”

  I huffed a laugh at that. I could only imagine the commentary that megalomaniac would say if he were here, like a sports announcer doing a play-by-play as he peeked out of my closet.

  “I shall show you.”

  He lowered his head to mine. Slowly, eyes opened. I watched his movement and knew the kiss was coming. This time, the beast wasn’t in control; it was Wulf who was doing the kissing. He was able to speak in full sentences, able to control his breathing. Everything.

  I didn’t deny him because my body screamed yes!

  We could figure out the whole mate thing after. Sex now, talk later.

  His lips met mine at the same moment his hand curled around the back of my neck. His touch was gentle, his skin warm against mine.

  And his lips… gentle, too. Almost coaxing.

  I whimpered at the contrast to how he’d kissed me earlier.

  “The kids…” I whispered against his lips.

  He didn’t say anything, only moved his hand to the door handle, turned the lock. It wouldn’t keep someone like Wulf out, but it could deter two little kids long enough for me to throw some clothes on.

  He kissed me again, his tongue flicking against my closed lips, and I parted for him.

  I had no idea how long we stood there and kissed like teenagers, but I was lost to it. When he peppered the kisses down my jaw to my ear, I angled my head to give him better access.

  “No mating. Just sex,” I said, then let all thoughts disappear.

  8

  Wulf

  She did not believe me. Even as I nuzzled her soft skin and fought my beast with every ounce of will, my mate refused to surrender to me, refused to see her own worth, her beauty. Refused to believe I would not survive without her.

  I kissed her softly, gently, because if I let go, the beast would consume me. Her. Both of us. We’d fucked with the beast in control the first time. I couldn’t savor, couldn’t learn what made her hot or gasp or moan. Now I could. I wanted to take my time with every lush curve. To explore the softness of her breasts and generous hips. I wanted to feel her body melt beneath mine as I took her.

  So I fought with myself, with my beast, even as I tried to woo her. Go slowly. Warden Egara’s warning was clear in my mind. This was new for my female. Not sex, but the depth of our newfound bond. She had not been looking for a mate. She did not volunteer.

  According to Earth laws, she was not mine, which made a rumble escape my chest.

  When she tilted her head to the side and gave me access to her vulnerable neck, I nearly growled in both victory and hunger. She was mine. She was submitting to me. She would give herself to me, if I could control the beast.

  “Wait.”

  That one word made my entire body freeze, my lips poised along the length of her jaw, my hands cupping her soft, round ass. I wanted to shove her against the door and make her cry out as she had earlier. But I held perfectly still.

  “The kids,” she said again. “We need to put them in bed. If they wake up in the living room alone, they’ll be scared.”

  Her small hands pushed against my chest, and I stepped back, pleased that she cared so deeply for the children. She would be an excellent mother, and my beast calmed for the first time since her arrival. Content, as he had not been in years.

  The feeling shocked me, but I did not attempt to rile him. We were protecting our own, ensuring their safety and well-being.

  I simply followed my mate to the living room and lifted Tanner into my arms, careful not to wake him, as she carried little Emma to a small bedroom across the hall from hers.

  Olivia’s smile was soft and intimate in the dark room. The task of putting little ones to bed was a new experience for me, one I would crave in the future. This was the opposite of battle, of death and killing rage and blood-soaked horror. This was innocence and light, the reason warriors fought and died. This was life, not death, and I wanted more. Wanted her. Wanted a child from her.

  Forever.

  I laid Tanner on a small bed and pulled a blanket covered with various animal designs of rabbits, puppies and kittens—soft, furry creatures that humans routinely kept as pets—over him. On the opposite wall stood an even smaller bed, the mattress barely reaching midcalf. Olivia placed Emma’s head on the pillow, and the little girl snuggled into a fluffy blanket decorated with an odd assortment of drawn characters: a round bear wearing a red shirt, a very thin striped tiger who appeared to be able to speak, a grumpy looking rabbit and some kind of dark gray horselike creature whose ears drooped in a very pathetic fashion. Not even opening her eyes, Emma reached for a small toy animal, a copy of the red-shirted bear.

  When Olivia saw me inspecting the strange assortment of creatures, she smiled. “Tanner loves animals. All animals. He says he wants to be a veterinarian when he grows up. And Emma—” Her smile made my heart melt even more for her as she reached down and ran fingertips over the little girl’s forehead. “She loves Winnie the Pooh. As you can see.”

  I did not know what a Winnie the Pooh meant, but I said nothing, hypnotized by the expression I saw in Olivia’s eyes as she looked at the two children. Her gaze grew rounder, soft. The worry lines disappeared, and her entire face relaxed into contentment.

  Love. This was what love looked like on Olivia Mercier’s face, and I hungered for that look to be directed at me. Needed it, more than I needed air to breathe, more than I needed to fill her with my cock and make her scream in pleasure, I needed her like this. Soft and gentle. Accepting and content. Loving.

  Without a word I drew her close and held her for long minutes in the silence. She began to sway slowly, side to side, and I moved with her, stroking her back, my mind too full of what I had realized to express it with words, so I touched her instead, prayed to the gods that my hands, the beat of my heart beneath her soft cheek, would be enough. That she would know, sense in the mysterious way females seemed to grasp, what I was feeling, because I wasn’t sure myself. It was too raw, too new to describe. To name. To control.

  In the chaos of the Bachelor Beast, I’d found this moment of peace. When I’d transported from The Colony, I never expected to find this, a human of my own and children.

  I couldn’t stop the ache that filled my chest, but it was not the pain of a wound. This was different. Lingering. The ache spread, pain moving from my heart to my lungs until it hurt to draw air, up my throat, swelling there so that I could no longer speak, to my face, my eyes, where the pain pooled in the salty, unwelcome heat of unshed tears.

  Even when captured by the Hive, I had not felt like this.

  I did not cry, had never cried in living memory. Not since I was a very small child at my mother’s knee. But I was helpless to stop them
as Olivia’s arms lifted to wrap around my waist and she leaned in to me, melted against me like she was exactly where she wanted to be. With me. Mine.

  My beast sniffed, then settled, knowing the one female who belonged to us was in our hold. The children who belonged to her, and thus, belonged to me, safely asleep where I could watch over them.

  Longing. That’s what this was. Desperate, vulnerable longing. Longing to be part of her family, to be loved the way she loved these small human children, to finally matter to someone beyond what I could do on a battleship or to enemies in the war. I ached to be accepted as I was now, contaminated and damaged, barely in control of my beast. I longed to be hers. Just her. I needed a home, and she was that now, for me and for my beast.

  I shuddered, the act instinctive and impossible to control. That betrayal of my emotions caused her to lift her head, to look up at me. Her gaze widened in shock. “Are you crying?”

  “No.” I was not crying. Salted water had overflowed my eye and tracked down my left cheek.

  She lifted her hand and wiped the wetness from my face. “Why are you crying?” she whispered.

  I shook my head, turned my face to kiss the inside of her palm. “You are so beautiful, mate. Too perfect to be real.”

  “I am not—”

  I set a finger to her lips to silence her protest. I had already heard all she had to say about her perceived imperfections. She compared herself to other females, which was ridiculous. It was only my opinion on the topic that mattered, and I told her again how I felt. “You are perfect. Beautiful. Soft. I will not hear otherwise, or I will place you over my knee and spank you for treating yourself so poorly.”

  She raised her brows at the threat, but there was laughter in her eyes. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.” I lowered my head and buried my face in the curve of her neck, breathed her in, grounded myself in her existence. “By the gods, Olivia, you are my everything.”

  She shuddered in my arms, and I wondered what emotion had caused the tremor, hoped she was feeling what I did. Longing. Need. Desire.

  When she pulled away, I was distraught, until she reached out and took my hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before we wake up the kids.” Her voice was so soft I was thankful for my beast hearing.

  I followed without question, as I always would, the realization both startling and frightening as the beast settled completely at her command. He had already decided he was hers. He had surrendered completely, and the lack of boiling aggression inside was shocking to my system.

  Olivia closed the bedroom door behind us and led me back to the living room. I had no idea what she intended, and I was content to allow her to have her way so long as she didn’t stop touching me. We could sleep. We could fuck. We could talk all night. I could hold her for hours and be content. I was hers.

  I had said the words before, meant them at the time, but I did not fully understand the inescapable reality until this moment. Hers. She was not my mate. She was not mine. I was hers. I would protect her, fuck her, kill for her, protect her. HERS.

  “Come here, Warlord.”

  She pulled me to the couch and indicated I should take a seat next to her. I settled into the cushions and held back a growl when she pulled her small hand free from mine. It would not do to frighten her with my needs. Well, it was too late for that. I’d been insane and insatiable earlier. She knew what she was getting, and she was still here.

  I could overpower her, control this situation, but I needed to see what she wanted, how she craved it. She could lead, and I would follow her anywhere.

  I was the weak one here, the needy. She was strong. Independent. Caring for two children that were not hers. Working and being the provider.

  Alone. She was alone. Like me.

  All the lights were out now but one small lamp on the opposite side of the room. The soft light cast an intimate glow on her face, as if she sat before a fire in the dark of night. “You are beautiful, mate.”

  Her eyes blinked slowly, but she did not turn away. “Don’t start with that, Warlord. I want to know why you are really here. What are you doing at my house? I’m not a bride. You aren’t supposed to be with me.”

  My entire body shuddered as I held back the beast. Without her touch I struggled to remain in control, especially when she spoke such disagreeable words. Perhaps I was not as content as I had assumed. Another shudder passed through me, and my jaw tensed as I clenched my teeth, holding back the transformation.

  “What is it?” She frowned, her eyes searching my face. “What’s wrong with you?”

  I did not wish to lie to my female, not when the truth was much safer. “My beast is not happy that you broke contact with us. I am having difficulty holding him back.”

  “What?” She scooted closer, her adorable nose scrunched in confusion. “You mean you want to hold my hand?” She reached out and took mine between her two small ones.

  “He requires touch, mate,” I explained. “He is not human. I am not human.”

  She gave a little laugh. “Oh, believe me, I know.” Her tone held what I hoped was humor, but I didn’t worry about it as her hands squeezed mine. The beast calmed. “Better?”

  Perhaps a small untruth would do no harm here. “He would settle if you were to sit on my lap.”

  “I am too big for—”

  Not wishing to hear her speak poorly of her luscious curves again, I simply lifted her onto my lap and settled the back of her head on my bicep so she would be able to look at me. I wanted to see her eyes, her lips. The rise and fall of her breasts. Feel her.

  “Oh!” She wiggled a bit, but when my cock swelled beneath her round bottom, she stilled, her breathing quickening. “I guess this is better.”

  “Much.” I lifted my free hand and gently cupped the side of her neck, the side of her face. Using my thumb, I traced the outline of her lips. “You are perfect, and I need to kiss you.”

  “Okay.”

  I froze. If I kissed her like I had in her bedroom, I would want more. I told her that as well.

  She smiled. “Yes, I’m well aware of that. I want it, too. You are lethal, Wulf.”

  “Yes, mate? Or no?”

  Instead of responding with words, she lifted a hand and repeated my actions, stroking my neck and cheek, my lips. Her eyes darkened as she pulled my head down toward hers. “I think I need more kisses, too.”

  I allowed her slight strength to guide my lips to hers. When she was so close I could feel the heat between them, she whispered, “We should really talk first.”

  “Tomorrow, mate,” I promised. “Tonight, we do this.”

  “I’m not your—”

  I crushed her lips to mine, not wanting to hear the denial again. She was mine. My mate. I knew the truth, as did my beast. We simply needed to convince Olivia of our devotion, and I knew no better way than bringing her pleasure.

  9

  Wulf

  The kiss turned carnal as I took what she offered. Her mouth. Her tongue. Just her. Her taste, her feel, her breath.

  She was in my lap, and I curled her, lifting her so I could stroke from the back of her knee, up her thigh, over her soft, round ass, the curve of her hip, her waist, the side of her breast. I devoured her as I petted, learned the feel of her softness more thoroughly, enjoyed the way her body conformed to mine, settling into me as if filling every missing piece with her warmth.

  “Wulf, the kids.” Her whisper barely carried, but I recognized heat in her voice, the lure of the forbidden. “What if they wake up?”

  “Then you will need to be quiet when I make you come.”

  Her response was a very wicked and very feminine smile against my lips. “I can do that.”

  “Can you? You have offered up quite a challenge to my beast. We shall see.”

  Moving quickly, she turned to straddle me so that we faced one another. “Take off your shirt,” she commanded. “Earlier, I didn’t get to see you.”

  I chuckled, pleased that she was ea
ger to claim what was hers, and pulled the shirt off in one swift motion. When my gaze returned to her, it was to find her staring as if transfixed. “You can’t be real.”

  I looked down to make sure nothing was amiss. Unlike other fighters on The Colony, I had no visible integrations. I had plenty everywhere, but they were beneath the skin. Inside.

  “I am very real.” Grabbing each of her hands, I placed them flat on my chest. The heat of her touch soothed and enticed me in equal measure. “I am real and I am yours.”

  She shook her head as if to disagree, but her small hands moved and I leaned my head back to enjoy the first real touch of my female. The beast in me preened, eager to come out and play, to present himself to her, to be petted and touched and accepted. But I pushed him back with a ruthlessness that shocked me. He’d had his time with her against the door at the testing center. He’d fucked her. Claimed her. Made her run from us.

  This time was mine. Her touch? Mine.

  Her small hands roamed, and I soaked in the smallest flicker of her gaze, the breathless sound of her excitement.

  “I thought you had some kind of cyborg parts, but I don’t see anything. Are the robot parts in your legs? Or somewhere else?” Embarrassment colored her cheeks, and she blushed a pretty shade of pink.

  Slowly I shook my head, watched her. “No mate. I and a few others like me were contaminated with nanoparticles only. They live in my skin, in my muscle and bone. They are invisible to the eye but make me stronger and faster, harder to kill and better at killing.”

  She frowned as her eyes moved across my torso. “Invisible?” Her palm settled on my shoulder, and she traced the flesh there as if the idea fascinated her. “Why? I don’t understand. Why would they change you at all? You’re perfect. Why do you call yourself contaminated?”

  Holding her gaze so I could gauge her reaction, I laid bare my shame. My failure. My defeat. If she could not accept this, she would not be able to accept me. “I fought many battles against the Hive. Too many to count.” I took a breath, then continued. “But the last battle, myself and a small number of other Atlan warlords were captured.”