ThunderClaw: Science Fiction Romance (Alien Warrior Book 2)

by Penelope Fletcher

Sweet and tart, freshly squeezed lime juice mixed with a strong musk.

  ‘Suck him, sweet.’ Beowyn’s hardness slid against my folds, and his hips once again pounded my ass. ‘Suck and swallow him deep.’

  Shivery and warm, I rest my hands on Éorik’s hips. I took the whole of him into my mouth and suckled until my cheeks hollowed. He was less length and more girth, and after several greedy pulls, my jaw ached.

  I retreated to lick around his crown, groaning when it pulsed.

  Éorik threw his head back and raked his nails against the roof tiles. His free hand held my head steady. ‘Lah, lah.’ He fucked my mouth in brutal plunges.

  My eyes watered and my pussy felt hot and achy. I tipped my ass higher to signal readiness. I wanted Beowyn’s cock stretching my cunt as Éorik’s shaft tapped the back of my throat.

  Beowyn groaned, but he didn’t pierce me as I craved. He strengthened the grind against my tender flesh.

  Éorik’s hand pressed harder, and the cock rubbing against my tongue swelled to bursting as Beowyn rasped, ‘Dah, Dah, I come,’ in low grunts as hot wet splashed my belly. I was close, so close, my hips bucked as the pressure gathering in my clit and cunt rose to excruciating heights.

  Rough, lyrical growls poured from Éorik’s lips as he jerked, thrust hard to wedge his shaft at the back of my throat then spurted in my mouth. Shuddering and panting, his hand on my head squeezed to the point of pain.

  Beowyn’s hand swirled in the sticky wetness dripping from my stomach. It slid down my mons, stroked hard over my nub then shoved into my pussy.

  I tried to scream, tried to move, but I was bound and blinded by spasmodic pulsations flashing from my core and searing through my nerve endings.

  Éorik dropped onto his feet. He shoved his arms under mine to hold me up. He pressed my face to his chest.

  ‘Mine,’ Beoywn growled as his hand again gathered the seed he’d spilt and thrust it inside me. ‘Mine.’

  Chapter 24

  Beowyn’s tongue rasped over his lips. The roughness of it was nothing like the slick muscle Sìne had pushed into his mouth the night before, but much like the feel of his Commander’s wicked, scratchy barbs. He licked again imagining the taste of feminine musk and masculine spice.

  They walked beside him, Sìne with her head down, humming a tune from the night before, and Éorik with his chin lifted, stormy gaze focused ahead.

  They left Grand Atoll for home.

  Sìne’s cool hand slipped into when he removed his boots and slid into the shallow waters of the Black Sea.

  Close to land there were no beasts large enough to cause harm, and under the heat of the suns, it was refreshing to cool your aching feet, relaxing to feel the combers lap at your ankles.

  Still, her eyes glimmered with fear.

  At first meal, the humans had been baffled at their plans. They struggled to believe travelling between the islands on foot was safe and had expected to purchase passage on a boat. It had been amusing to explain the sandbanks between most atolls were traversable regardless of the season. More care had to be taken during storms, and skiffs could be rented for the ailing and elderly, volcykles for the daring, but hopping from atoll to atoll was a simple thing, and it kept his people healthy.

  Beowyn squeezed Sìne’s hand to show all was well. He tugged until she shuffled to stand beside him. She jumped on the coarser mounds of sand shaped by the tide, sending broken ripples across the waves. She laughed over her shoulder and beckoned with a flourish. ‘The water is hot.’

  ‘It is cooler overnight,’ he said, ‘and colder further North.’

  Excited kin followed where she led.

  Fergie fought to be released from Patrick’s hold. She crowed when her toes dipped into the sea. Splashing at her uncles, she spun to point at Éorik. Her eyes narrowed in a manner much like her mother’s. ‘No swimming.’

  The Commander bestowed her a fond look.

  Stride slowing, Beowyn palmed his horn. ‘Swimming?’ Now that they had fought, and rutted, things had eased between them. It was not like before. In some ways, the tension between them grew worse. In others, the feelings between them had become breathtaking.

  ‘A tale best left for another time.’ Éorik tilted his head towards Sìne, eyes flashing a warning.

  ‘Something upsetting then.’ He mumbled the observation his chest, hoping whatever his friend revealed wouldn’t overset his One too much.

  Setting aside his curiosity, Beowyn led his family and Rä guests across the shoal. The beach cutting a distinct line under the vast cerulean horizon grew thicker during the meandering stroll.

  The wind was stronger on the sandbanks, but the brackish currents were refreshing once the twin suns Oda and Fyn reached their highest points.

  Crouching to pen Fergie within a loose cage of his arms, he pointed out the migratory schooling of bioluminescent fish, teaching her the easier to pronounce colloquial names. He helped her unearth crustaceans so she might touch their rough conches. He discovered an abandoned shell.

  After scrubbing it clean of algae, he handed it to her as a keepsake, earning him a slobbery kiss to the chin.

  Hand shielding his eyes, Aled’s keen eyesight spied a fishing boat docking in the deeper waters offshore.

  Beowyn spoke with the human about the edible seafaring creatures and saltwater weeds enjoyed as a staple in the Verak diet. ‘Most of Vayhalun’s outer crust is submerged in the ocean. We cultivate domestic produce as much as is feasible. Food must remain affordable for those with lesser means.’

  ‘Cobra explained you’re trading with the Rä for a herd creature of some kind. Ah, what are they called now?’ Aled snapped his fingers. ‘Goodbeasts?’

  Beowyn nodded and gripped his shoulder in a sign of companionship as they walked. ‘Import of grain fed beasts is expensive, but vital to the population growth we have seen in the last aeon. We have limited grazing land, you understand?’

  ‘I see it.’ His gaze touched on the atolls. They were beautiful, but not suited to traditional styles of agriculture used to support a larger populace. ‘Has the infusion of fresh livestock helped?’

  Sìne drifted closer, awaiting his reply.

  ‘Immeasurably.’ Pride bowed his chest. His humans were interested in the Vayhalun-Rök trade route. Their genial manner and genuine interest in their new home world would make their integration near effortless. ‘We can cycle back on fishing and allow the marine life to repopulate, re-balance nutrition between animal and plant sources. We have been relying on the latter too much in recent solars, and goodbeast mylk is higher in minerals and proteins than kimmijion.’ He thumped his chest. ‘Good for building strong bones. Our youngest generation will be mightier than the last.’ Boar willing, his Dyna would leave Vayhalun stronger than it was when inherited.

  Though he was a retired warrior, Patrick interrogated him on the atoll’s defences. ‘I see dozens of ways to be overrun by an enemy.’

  ‘Our encounter with the L’Odo and Dei San has left you cautious.’ Respect for the male had Beowyn ushering the others to continue–Éorik as their guide. He dropped a kiss to Sìne’s upturned mouth then stole another as her face softened, eyes molten with arousal. He murmured against her lips. ‘I will return soon.’ He nipped at her swollen mouth. ‘Before you miss me.’

  She shoved at his middle. ‘Who says I’ll miss you?’ She strode backwards and blew him a kiss before she spun.

  Head popping back, he stared after her. A grin creased his face.

  Patrick tutted. ‘Smitten?’

  He tore his gaze from her enticing rear view. ‘She is precious to me.’

  ‘I’d have to beat you otherwise.’

  Beowyn crooked a claw. ‘Try.’

  Snorting, Patrick unfolded his arms. ‘You have something to show me?’

  They detoured to a hidden outpost buried beneath an artificial gravelbar. Subterranean stations like it surrounded the atoll and were designed to blend with the reefs edging deeper waters.

&nbs
p; ‘Access is coded.’ Beowyn tapped a wall mounted console adjacent to the entry hatch. ‘An incorrect input sets off a silent alarm to alert the Paladins.’ Touring the cramped confines of the metal bunker, he explained the security grid. ‘It is activated in times of need and can be controlled from the palace during a siege, or as a protective barrier during solar storms.’ They rejoined the group, and Rowan tapped him on the shoulder before he reclaimed his place at Sìne’s side. He repressed his ire. He wanted to know his human-kin, but he longed to play with his mate.

  They reached the beach and climbed onto the wooden dock to dry their feet. He knelt to help Sìne don her boots, grasping at the excuse to put his hands on her. He rested her heel on his thigh. Her pale feet were soft and narrow, the flesh-coloured nails on her toes filed short, not that the flimsy growths would be weapons like his if left to grow. His Drackni concubine could manipulate his staff to spew with her paw pads. Did Sìne know such tricks?

  He trailed his claw tips against her arch, and she shivered.

  Panting at the vivid imagery of her falling back and lazily caressing him to completion, he lifted his gaze and found verdant eyes locked on his crotch, watching his member react to his sensual thoughts. Stifling a moan, he moved her foot onto his hardness.

  His shaft throbbed, and he rocked his hips to increase the tingling sensation tightening his sac.

  She jerked away, glancing around.

  His shoulders drooped as he struggled with the disappointment of another refusal. Perhaps she’d be receptive the next time they were alone?

  He finished his task and pulled her to stand.

  Though they’d barely spoken that morning, he failed to feel any significant displeasure. There would be time enough, and she appeared overwhelmed to be arriving at her new home.

  She held on when he went to release her. She ducked her head to hide her face, pale skin colouring in pinks and reds that radiated heat. ‘Thanks.’ Her fingers moved over the backs of his hands. The fluttering touch ignited skittering pleasure across his nerves. ‘May I do yours?’

  He tried to sound complacent, but his voice emerged gruff. ‘Very well.’ His heart thudded. He unhooked his boots from around his neck where they hung from knotted straps. He handed them over. ‘Be gentle with me.’

  Startling then laughing at the mischievous twinkle in his eye, she dropped to a squat and pulled on his boots. His feet were already dry, and the sediment from the dock easily brushed from the fur dusting his ankles.

  The suns turned her curls into a gold-orange halo tinged with red accents. Her movements were brisk and purposeful, but her palms distracted him with their softness. How would those hands feel sliding up his hairy thighs to cup him? Would they squeeze his length or jerk it in quick, rough strokes? He relished the sight of her kneeling between his legs, so much so, it was a test of endurance not to grab the back of her head and thrust his hips.

  He remembered well how voraciously she’d sucked his Commander’s staff.

  When she stood, he averted his gaze to their destination. He wanted to tackle her into the surf and take her as the water cooled their writhing flesh, regardless of their audience and to hell with the consequences. Biting his tongue, he urged them onwards. ‘House of ThunderClaw became the First Great House of Vayhalun after I challenged the old Great Alpha.’ He jerked his chin towards Éorik. ‘Orik defeated all challengers to climb the ranks at my side. I named him High Commander and Royal Defender after I bested him to prove myself dominant.’

  ‘House SnowBlade has long been aligned with ThunderClaw Dyna.’ Éorik’s lips quirked. ‘I have always known to whom I belonged.’

  Their gazes met then drifted apart.

  Beowyn smoothed the ruffled fur at his nape then flung open his arms. ‘Welcome.’ He’d built his palace near the den of his birth. It would be known as the Royal Atoll until a challenger took the throne from his line. He turned to his female and lifted an arm. ‘Come, sweet. We walk together now.’

  Biting her lip, blushing, Sìne cast one look back at her family then fit herself at his side. He curled the arm around her waist and guided her toward their joint destiny, his heart bursting.

  It was called a palace but to his mind was a citadel.

  Bricks of glistering beige stone ate into the black rock foundations. Higher mountain peaks blanketed in a choppy mist rose behind rounded turrets in jagged spikes, making the curved spires and chiselled oriel windows seem elegant against the wild backdrop.

  Porticos wrapped in trailing vines sprouted leafy blooms, and floating staircases connected one open-aired level to another. Lanterns were strung on the upper elevations to catch the sunlight and would bathe the locale in diffused light come dusk. Smaller torches lined the pathways for greater illumination during the dark season.

  ‘Pretty,’ Fergie declared.

  Beowyn winked. ‘I am glad you think so, sweetling.’ It was not the most magnificent residence, but it was inviting, aesthetically pleasing, and fortified to protect his human kin.

  It would be a joy to breed cubs with his One and watch them thrive there.

  Over the bridge covered gorge–the arched overpass acting as a natural fortification–and across the bustling palazzo, Beowyn climbed the shallow steps to the main entrance and greeted the servants that welcomed him home.

  Sìne’s eyes were huge in her oval face, darting every which way as they passed through the glass-ceilinged Atrium and into the Great Hall.

  Almost shaking with the need to finish her homecoming, he led her up the dais, picked her up and set her on the padded seat of his throne.

  Fierce satisfaction rioted through him, and he flung back his head to roar his triumph and beat his chest.

  Giggling, Fergie copied him.

  Lumen laughed as she and her mates entered the hall. They took a skiff from Grand Atoll to assure the comfort of their hatchling and arrived earlier.

  He only had eyes for his female. He brought his face close to hers, so close their lips brushed. ‘We are home.’

  She curled a hand at the side of his throat. ‘You’re happy then?’

  He rubbed his nose with hers. ‘Having you here is more than I dreamed. I cannot wait to have you in our bed. I might die from wanting.’

  She shifted closer, fingers caressing his nape. ‘After we settle Fergie and my family can we go somewhere private–.’

  ‘You have returned.’ A triad of pupils danced as they skipped over the humans. His concubine approached. ‘I came to see if all is well. A rotation has passed since word reached us you landed. Still, you have not come to us.’

  Sìne’s hand slipped from his neck to fall into her lap.

  Beowyn straightened. ‘I wished to show my One Carnival. Come, Ryki. Meet my Sìne and my human-kin.’

  Stopping at the base of the dais, she inclined her head. She had groomed well to greet her Queen. Orange braids caressed creamy yellow skin. Her sheer dress floated over long, strong limbs, toned thighs peeking through hip-high splits, pierced nipples tight as it rubbed the gauzy fabric. She faced his human-kin with a poise that was proof of her royal lineage. She’d been quite the catch when he was younger, a lesser royal from a world torn asunder by civil war. ‘Good Greetings. I welcome you to Vayhalun.’

  Fiddling with her necklace, Sìne mumbled back fascinated with the carved bones on the armrest.

  Ryki touched his arm. Her tail stroked over his calf. ‘We stand ready to receive you.’ Dainty hands with lacquered nails clapped. ‘Come!’

  A side door opened and his harem entered. They filed past calling greetings to his guests and offering him carnal pleasures.

  Beowyn almost groaned. It was kind of them to make an effort, but this would take forever. He opened his mouth to begin introductions.

  Lumen made a choking noise that both alarmed and amused him.

  Venomous was on her within a blink, rubbing her back and yanking her mouth open to check for obstructions.

  He noticed then all the humans acted oddl
y.

  Aled was red in the face. Quite a feat as the male was already rather pink. His broad chest was puffed up, and his vascular arms were bulging as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Biting his thumbnail, Rowan’s gaze pinged between his family, a nervous ticking under his eye accelerating until he squinted. Patrick glowered. Elder Fergus was, well, he’d wedged a finger in his ear and was plumbing for wax.

  Strange for a certainty, but it was Sìne’s expression that captured his attention. It was blank. Her resting face was often composed, occasionally twisted in a snarl that made his blood rush, but never was it blank. Vacant. As if life and vitality had been sucked clean and a dry bone discarded behind.

  Cocking his head, he looked over his harem with a critical eye but found them to be well presented and their manner respectful to his beloved.

  Obvious as it was he missed something, he had no clue as to what the ‘thing’ could be. He looked to his best human friend for enlightenment.

  Lumen made a frantic swiping motion across her neck.

  He wondered how it was supposed to be of help when he knew not her her tribal sign language.

  Beowyn waited patiently as his concubines filled the hall in a blend of colourful flesh, feathers and hair.

  Lah, he had accumulated many.

  Éorik sighed, irritated.

  Beowyn could not guess why nor did it help him better understand the humans’ discomfort, so he ignored it.

  Éorik had always disliked certain members of his harem, Ryki in particular, who now smiled with invitation, trying to catch Beowyn’s eye.

  ‘Wyn.’ Lumen lunged to grab his arm. ‘A moment, if you please.’

  He huffed. The constant intrusions between him and his One were frustrating. ‘But I am–.’

  ‘Now.’

  Beowyn was confused as to why Lumen sounded angry. They ended up on one of the upper gallery balconies looking down on the hall.

  Another swell of triumph crashed through him at the sight of his One curled up on his throne.

  Head tilting, his brows furrowed.

  Was it his imagination or did she appear pale and shaky?