Daddy Biker: MC Romance

by Sadie Savage

  “No, don’t go,” Cynthia said and got up so quickly she practically flew. She caught the girl by the arm and clung to her.

  The girl stood there, her eyes moving slowly to meet Cynthia's. “I’m sorry, but I must go before Lord Darius returns.”

  “Lord Darius?” Cynthia asked. She released the woman, who stood there, her hands clasped before her. She was wearing the same kind of clothing as Cynthia, only in a lighter shade of yellow.

  “Yes. He is the master of this house,” she replied.

  “Have you been here long?” Cynthia wanted to know. The woman had a look of familiarity about her, like she had been there a while and had finally managed to fit in.

  “From the beginning. Do not aggravate him,” she volunteered. “He is a good man, kind on occasion. He chose me then, and I had hoped he would make me his mate. He didn’t.” Her eyes grew glossy then, and she turned her head away. “He only wanted someone to keep house. Which means you are going to be either one or the other.”

  “Why would you hope to be his mate?” Cynthia pressed. She couldn’t fathom that possibility after being held against her will.

  “My life was shit before this,” she managed to say. “What more could you ask for than to be the mate of the Lord of another planet? You would be a fool to deny him. Excuse me,” she said, and walked off before Cynthia could get another word in.

  After the girl had gone, Cynthia remained there, rooted to the spot. What was blatantly clear was that she had no hope of ever escaping. Not unless she was able to make Lord Darius her friend. He, if no one else, had the power to send her home, and she would rather be free in a life that seemed meaningless, than one where she was a slave.

  One thing was sure: she wouldn’t gain his trust by pushing him away. At this rate he might just wind up sending her back to the compound. She knew what she had to do. She walked back to the bed, climbed back in, and lay there in wait for him, naked beneath the sheet.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Darius was shocked when he returned later that night and found the human girl, naked in his bed. Earlier, when he had imagined what she might look like, he never expected this. Everything he thought before was wrong. Where he had imagined a body sagging and unappealing, he found, instead, a woman with pale skin, and breasts that kissed each other as she lay on her side. Her legs were curled around each other, and one of her arms was propped against the side of her head. She wore a smile, one that moved him, and when he looked into her blue eyes--eyes that resembled his own--his former plan to rid himself of her were dismissed.

  He moved closer to her. She lay still, with no hint of fear in her eyes, and her body called to him in ways he never knew communication was possible. His eyes moved to her chest, and he captured the way it heaved, perhaps in her anticipation, perhaps in need. He could not be sure what she felt, but he was acutely keen of the increasing hardness in his member below, begging for attention.

  He held her stare, and when he got within inches of her, she rose, her firm and perky breasts beckoned to him, and he yielded to her. Almost as if hypnotized, he lowered his head, and with the tip of his tongue, which to her felt as cold as a snowflake, slithered it over her peak. She shuddered, not knowing what she should have expected, and then bit her lip as familiar sensations overcame her. She slowly relaxed, and allowed him to have his way with her. And he did.

  He tugged at her taut nipples, commanding them to stay firm, even as his hands groped her body. He breathed her in, and like toxic fumes, she poisoned him, filling his mind with only thoughts of her, and his body with intense lust. Darius groaned, as his lower region enflamed and spurred him into action. He stood, almost suddenly, and tore his clothing from his body.

  Cynthia looked at him in awe, wild eyed amazement setting root, and she forgot, in that moment, where she was and the purpose for which she had been taken. Instead, she wanted him in a strange way. When he held his aching appendage and guided it effortlessly into her, they became lost in a world of their own creation. She dug her nails into him, and arched her back, and he penetrated her, with force, and intensified need. Her walls closed in around him, and Darius found the warmth and pleasure this human generated quite satisfying. His strokes grew harder and quicker, until she was rocking and moaning. He could feel the sting in his back where her nails found home, which only served to make his eyes grow redder.

  Soon, he pulled away and lay next to her. Her back was to him, and she twisted her head around so she could watch him. He swooped down and brought his lips to hers, kissing her most ferociously until he could almost feel her blood on his tongue. Then he gripped her hip, and his member found its home once more. He was breathing hard as he entered her again and again, and soon, their lips were forced apart as their convulsions grew stronger. He felt the fluid building up inside him, and his body slapped hard against hers, as he shuddered and spilled everything inside her.

  When he was done, he rolled off the bed and walked away.

  Cynthia remained in the same position, breathless. Her panting slowly grew normal, and anger replaced the passion she had just felt. It had been a long time since she'd been intimate with a man, not since Jeffrey, and being with Lord Darius had not been a bad restart. Still, the way he had just cast her off when he was done with her drove her mad, and she let out a gut-wrenching scream. She was in the act of punching the bed when he returned.

  “Is something the matter?” he asked her. The men of Argon were proud of their stature and sexuality, and he immediately thought he had displeased her.

  She turned her head toward him, angry eyes glowering at him. “I’m fine,” she said, and wiped away the loose strands of hair that were clinging to her forehead. It seemed, even on Argon, the men were insensitive.

  “Did I displease you?” he asked. She didn’t know it, but Lord Darius did not mke it a habit to be concerned with the feelings of the women he slept with, but something was strangely different about this woman of Earth.

  “No!” she snapped. “It was just…odd, the way you walked out just then. Usually the men stay after.” Her voice lowered as she continued. “Anyway, where can I wash up?” She stood looking at him, too proud and determined to appear weak and vulnerable.

  He stepped forward, and as with everything else, commanded her attention. He used his index finger to tilt her head upwards. “What else would the men of Earth do?” he asked.

  Cynthia smiled for the first time since she'd been on the planet. She could see his desire for her clearly written on his face, and she smiled back. He would be her ticket out of there, but he didn’t know it just yet.

  She reached out, determined to make a show of it, and curled her hand around his neck. She brought his lips to within an inch of hers, and against his skin, she whispered, "The men of Earth would do it again." She walked away, and like a snake charmer, the cobra followed. In the silence of the great house, only their cries rang out, as Lord Darius gave himself over to this lesser being he was yet to understand, but greatly desired.

  CHAPTER 7

  Cynthia woke the following morning, disillusioned and hazy. She looked around and saw that she was alone in the room. In a different room. She sprang to life, gripping the thin fabric loosely wrapped around her, and headed for the opening. She was just at the door when she ran into the human servant.

  “Beg your pardon,” she said as she almost collided with her. She held her head down and walked around Cynthia. “Lord Darius asked me to make the beds.” She proceeded to the far wall where she pressed a button. An opening appeared in the wall and the bed rolled inside it. There was a whooshing sound, and the wall spat out the now neatly made bed.

  “Hmm,” Cynthia said, impressed. “I’d like to have one of those.” The girl looked up and smiled, and then went over to the table on the other side of the room. “Is there a button for breakfast too?” Cynthia asked.

  The girl chuckled softly. “There is a button for most things. Breakfast, I make,” she said, and moved past Cynthia once more.r />
  “How do you like living here? What’s your name?” Cynthia asked. . The girl seemed in a hurry to leave, and Cynthia was desperate for the company. She wasn’t as of yet sure of the place she was in, and she was anxious about being alone.

  “It’s fine, and I’m Annette,” she said. She walked off when she caught Lord Darius returning. He gave her a stern look and then looked to Cynthia.

  “Was she bothering you?” he asked. He seemed to be making an effort at avoiding eye contact.

  Cynthia took this as a good sign and wandered over. She was tracing her hand along his spine when he shrugged her off. “I need to get to the council,” he said, and stepped out.

  She stood there, paralyzed by his rejection of her advances. “What am I to do all day?” she inquired.

  “You can go to the courtyard. Be back in bed by the time I get back,” he said in a commanding tone.

  “Speaking of bed, you left mine quite early,” she told him. “I thought you wanted to make sure we made a child.” She stood there, resembling a servant of Rome in all those biblical movies she'd seen on late-night television.

  “We don’t usually sleep in the same bed as the women,” he told her. He eyed her curiously.

  Just then there was crash at the back of the room, as if something had fallen to the ground. His pale face darkened in color, and his voice thundered, “What was that?”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I wasn’t paying attention, and--” Annette seemed fearful of Darius, and she continued to ramble apologetically.

  “Could you be any clumsier?” he asked and stormed off.

  Cynthia looked at Annette for a brief second before she dashed across the room and disappeared again.

  Cynthia stood there, quite appalled that he could be that unkind to something over something so trivial, and she felt the need to defend the girl. It was already hard enough being a slave to an alien, but to be one to a cruel alien Lord as well?

  “Darius, was that--”

  “Lord Darius!” he corrected her, lest she forget her place. He turned back to her.

  Cynthia’s thought froze and she suddenly forgot what she was about to say. He peered at her from behind his blue eyes, waiting for the rest of her statement, but she could see it wouldn’t meet fertile soil, so she recoiled and tucked her fangs away. “Never mind,” she said, and slowly turned away from him.

  He disappeared behind the wall, and she was relieved she was no longer under his scrutiny. Her emotions regarding him fluctuated between admiration and anger, and she grew even more anxious to escape this godforsaken place. She gripped the thin fabric around her and walked softly and warily, to the window. She kept glancing behind her, as if she expected him to come up behind her and toss her back into the room.

  The world was already buzzing outside. She saw scooters whizzing by the window, hovercrafts settling below, and Argonites disembarking from both. There was laughter and happiness, something she had forgotten the sound of.

  For the first time in a while, she thought of Jeffrey. Things had been so different a year ago--they had been making plans to start a family and…it didn't matter. It was useless bringing the rest to memory.

  Her mind had grown so blank, she didn’t hear Darius come up behind her.

  “So, are you with child as yet?” he asked. That was it—no formality, no greeting, just business as usual.

  “I wouldn't know yet,” Cynthia replied. She wasn’t sure if it was even possible for the two of them to conceive, and she suddenly wondered what might happen to her if she couldn’t.

  “Then when?” he asked. He seemed irritated and impatient, and he shifted on his feet as he waited her reply.

  “Well, it's only been two times, and the female cycle is different for every woman. The more times that we…” She paused when she realized what she was setting up herself for.

  He had gotten the gist, and took her by the hand. “Let’s go then,” he said, and tugged her along behind him.

  She was willing to seduce him, to bend him to her will, but how was she going to overcome his might and dominance? In a desperate attempt to maintain the upper-hand, she stopped. Her abruptness startled him.

  “Is this how you plan to be? I thought you wanted a mate, not just a vessel for your child,” she said, feigning hurt.

  He came closer and leveled his eyes with hers. “What’s the difference?” he asked. He pulled her to him, kissing her forcefully.

  Once again she was swept along by his current, and in control of nothing.

  CHAPTER 8

  Darius got up from the bed and stole out into the night. He needed to clear his mind of the human woman he'd left in his bed. It was their custom to sleep in separate rooms, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to pull himself away from her. He felt a magnetic attraction when he was with her, one that even he could not deny.

  He wiped his hand down his face and then locked his hands behind him.

  “Is something the matter, my Lord?” A young man hurried over to ask him.

  “No, everything is fine Jakob,” he told the man. “I just needed some air.”

  “Very well, sir,” he replied. He took two steps back, and then turned to hurry off again.

  Darius ventured into the courtyard, which was always kept lit, and walked the serpentine path that passed beneath her window. He sat on the oval bench atop the perfectly kept lawn, and sat there looking up at the place she slept, feeling weak, vulnerable, and very unlike the leader he was. The irony was he needed her to maintain his position.

  His mind was still quite unsettled when he returned to the solitude of his bed an hour later.

  ************

  Cynthia had never been pregnant before, so she didn’t realize immediately when the symptoms manifested themselves. She was standing on the terrace, watching the good people of Argon from the only place she was allowed, when she felt suddenly light headed. She swooned, and gripped the steel bars as she tried to compose herself. She reached for the chair and sat, just as a wave of uneasiness washed over her. She rested her head on the cushioned seat and closed her eyes, trying to will her upset stomach away. When she opened them again, he was standing there, looking at her, much too intently.

  Before she was able to analyze his face, he began to smile. He stood upright, and in that moment he seemed even more puffed up with pride. It wasn’t until he lowered himself and brought his hand to rest on her still flat stomach that she acknowledged her present condition. She bounded from the chair, and he caught her before she could go far.

  “You are going nowhere, little flower,” he whispered into her ear, and crushed her in an embrace.

  Cynthia wanted to flee. She did not want to believe she was already carrying an alien child within her, but she could no longer deny the attraction she for him. She had convinced herself she was using him as her means of escape, but somewhere along the way, she had gotten lost. She no longer saw him as cruel, but as a strong and respected leader. She had also seen some changes in him, mostly in the way he looked at her, but she wasn’t quite sure she'd be able to open up fully to another man, even one as handsome and powerful as Darius. The image of Jeffrey still haunted her, and she had not yet escaped the hurt he'd inflicted.

  “I’m not sure that’s the reason. Maybe it’s the food I ate this morning,” she offered, already afraid of what being pregnant might mean.

  He held her at arms' length, his blue eyes lit and sparkling, and melting the parts of her she tried to keep hardened. “You have my child growing within you. You are really mine, now,” he said to her.

  Darius seemed to transform before her very eyes. He took her hand and led her back to the bed, the one he usually slept in, alone. This time, instead of commanding her, he was more reverent. Cynthia stood there, mesmerized, as he used both of his hands to slide the silk dress from her shoulders. He locked eyes with her and held her gaze as he lifted her and placed her on the strange bed. Her heart was racing in anticipation of what felt like the firs
t time, even though there had been many in the month she had been with him.

  He kissed her hand, her stomach, her breasts, and then ended on lips that were ready for him by the time he got there. Cynthia struggled inwardly, trying to deny this was real, that it was no more than a means to an end, but everything else in her was screaming otherwise.

  Her fingers curled around his neck, and despite her inner turmoil, she opened up herself to him, and her lips accepted his. Their tongues engaged in a friendly duel until their breathing began to intensify. Darius flattened his palm against the small of her back, and his touch seemed to sear her skin. She shivered, and pressed closer to him as his other hand surveyed the rest of her body.

  His long, golden hair fell over his shoulder, and her hand moved to grab a fistful as his head found the hollow in her neck. She groaned as his tongue traveled to her ear, then back to her neck, and then to her mouth again. She wanted him, and she was no longer afraid of letting go. She pressed him back, allowing him to fall on the bed, and as he lay there, beckoning to her, she responded, and showered him with kisses. He looked surprised as he watched her move over him like a snake. Her body seemed to dance, and he reached out and cupped her breasts as they seemed to reach for his chest.

  Cynthia was in her element, and she closed her eyes as she drank him in, only now realizing he had a pungent smell that had captivated her senses and caused her to feel enamored. He writhed when her tongue found his side, and followed all the way to his inner thigh. His skin was smooth, almost like marble, and she reveled in his taste and feel. Then her head dipped, and Darius almost knocked her off the bed when his erection disappeared, inch by inch inside her mouth. She held him back, pressing him back down on the bed, and he shivered, spilling almost instantly when her tongue flicked over his peak.

  The agony was grew unbearable for him, and he grew impatient with her torture. He held her thigh, and she appeared as light as a fairy when he lifted her and planted her onto him. He slowly brought her down, and when her hands flattened against his bulging chest, he pumped hard and fast inside her. She screamed as he filled her, his movement seeming to go on forever. Sweat beads rained down on him, mingling with that which he was producing. Each stroke he made brought them even closer in ways they had never expected.