Taking Their Human: Monrok Warriors 1

by Aubrey Cara

  It feels like affection. After days of being scared and alone I’m willing to take it as false as it may be.

  I lean my forehead into the solid dip of his chest. For the moment, I can pretend I’m somewhere else. We’re other people.

  Normal people.

  People who have chosen to be together.

  My nerve endings are coming alive under his ministrations. Warmth unfurls low in my belly. My nipples bead up tight.

  There must be something other than nutrients in my daily injections because I’ve never felt this sexual before. It’s like an internal switch has been turned on.

  The mist has stopped, but he still rubs the light oil into my skin. The dryer cycle is blocked by his large frame and the rush of air makes my skin prickle in awareness.

  I rub my naked chest against him, his erection a hot brand against my belly. He has no body hair as far as I can tell. Slick with oily mist, I’m met by the smooth hard ridges of his muscular abdomen. Every inch of him is solid.

  Chiseled to perfection.

  He takes my hand and wraps it around his cock. My fingers and thumb don’t touch. He’s gazing down at me, watchful. Waiting to see what I will do. I stroke down his length, and it jerks in my hand. My eyes snap back to his, and he runs his fingers over my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear.

  He runs a thumb over my lips. “I cannot decide whether I like my cock better in your mouth or your cunt.”

  My breath catches in my throat, part outrage, part weak-kneed longing. His tone is casual. Conversational, even, but his words hit me like dark seduction.

  Just thinking of him inside me again, my thighs involuntarily clench together. I’m still sore between my legs. I should not want him to fuck me. I should not have wanted him to take me the first time. But what would be the harm in giving in? Just this once?

  He presses even closer to me, rubbing my hand down his erection and up again. His free hand slides down to cup my breast, pulling on my nipple.

  I can’t keep my own free hand from wandering over his hard muscled bulk. Even his ass is tautly defined.

  He pushes me back against the cool, slick wall, his look dark and menacing.

  My hand shakes. I’ve awakened the lion. I squeeze his cock tight and his mouth is on mine, devouring. Consuming.

  Gone is the illusion of my safe pretend lover. In his place is a man who will take what he wants whether I am willing or not.

  Guilt and shame war with my desire to give over to him. Let him do with me anything that pleases him.

  That pleases me, too, if I have to admit it.

  He pushes two fingers inside me, and I can’t stop myself from rocking on his hand.

  “I enjoy being inside you,” he growls against my mouth. “Having your wet heat surrounding me. I will have you spread out for my pleasure,” His edict only makes me want him right here, against the wall.

  The door slides open at his touch, and he pulls me through. I shiver, the air cool on my damp skin. I expect him to pick up where we left off, but I’m left fidgeting as he steps to the opposite wall and opens a compartment. What’s in his hands when he turns around makes my mouth dry.

  They’re almost exactly the same kind of restraints that have been used on me before. I start to shake lightly with nerves.

  “What are you doing?” My voice is high, breathy, my airways constricted. “You don’t need those.”

  Was I being too willing? I’ve heard of guys who need a girl to fight. Still, I nervously shift back a step. “I don’t like being cuffed,” I say, but just the thought has warmth flooding my sex.

  I don’t know how I could possibly find something that frightens me so appealing. But that’s how I feel about Cal too. His very presence is dangerous, like a predatory animal in the wild. Trying to pet him would be as disastrous as it would be deadly.

  He smiles. It’s not a nice smile. “I can scent when you lie. Little mates who lie will be punished.”

  In a panic, I search for a doorway. The room is all white paneled walls with no visible entry. I can’t remember which one we came through.

  In my next breath, I’m on the mat, wrists cuffed, with the most potently sexual man I’ve ever encountered hovering over me. I jerk at my wrists in shock. He moved faster than should be possible.

  The cuffs are black and as thin as one of those slap bracelets I had when I was little, but these aren’t silly little girl bracelets. They’re a type of technology I’ve never experienced before. I can jerk at my wrists all I want, but I don’t move an inch from where he has me locked in place.

  He secures my ankles and tauntingly rearranges me, enjoying my frustration at being immobile. He lifts my feet up and back towards my shoulders in a wide V until I’m completely, uncomfortably splayed. Once I’m locked in place, he sits back on his knees, eyeing me or his handiwork appreciatively.

  His hand comes down on my ass, stealing my breath and making even more warmth unfurl low in my belly. “You like this, too, I think.”

  “No,” I quickly deny.

  “You lie again to me?” He watches me intently as his hand cracks down again and again. I squirm, lifting my ass in the air, trying to dodge each strike. With a hand on my pelvis he holds me in place, forcing me to accept his stinging chastisement.

  “When I do this, your delectable ass becomes hot to the touch,” he says, rubbing the sting away, and leaving a throbbing burn in its place. “Your cunt ripens.” With smug satisfaction, he traces my wet slit.

  I bite my lip, flushing and embarrassed once again to be so affected by being held down and spanked.

  “I think I will enjoy you belonging to me.” He holds up his fingers covered in my arousal. “Do you like being helpless for me, my Allyson?” he asks before sucking the arousal off his fingers.

  “No.” I shake my head in denial. “I want you to let me go,” I say even though I’m beginning to fear that is a lie. The look on his face is so full of dark promise, I no longer want free. I just want him to touch me.

  Taste me.

  Beginning at my ankles, he does just that. “I have never tasted anything so pleasing as you, my little human.” He kisses and licks his way up my leg, giving my core a teasing lick before moving up over my stomach to suckle at my breasts. He pinches and rolls my sensitive nipples with his teeth. His wicked fingers find my heat, toying with me. Filling me.

  I squeal, my hips working against his digits.

  “Your body cries for me.” He brushes my clit with his thumb. Not hard enough. His fingers fuck into me, in long pulls, not giving me the stimulation I need. “It knows who it belongs to.”

  I shake my head in denial even as liquid heat trickles down between my ass cheeks and I squirm. I want to tell him he doesn’t own me. No one does, but I also want to be filled. Fucked. I’m strung tight, on the edge.

  “Why don’t you fuck me, already?” My frustration is morphing into anger. He’s already proven his power over me. Why toy with me?

  “Not yet. I enjoy learning you.” His fingers hit just the right spot. My sex just begins to spasm when he pulls his fingers free.

  “No. Please, Cal,” I cry out in near pain from losing my orgasm when I was so close. “Please.”

  “I enjoy your begging,” he says, painting my arousal over my stomach and licking up the wet trails.

  I ache to have his tongue somewhere else.

  “You still taste of me,” he says, crawling over me, sucking and biting up my neck. “I will fill you so full of my essence you will carry my scent on you always.”

  “Y-yes-please,” I hear myself plead, aching with need. I’m mindless to what I beg for. What I’m agreeing to.

  He shifts and his hand strikes down on my clit with a vicious slap.

  My body bows as if struck by lightning. My legs strain against the bindings, trying to close, my ass lifting in my struggle.

  “Do you enjoy my spanking your cunt as much as your ass?” His hand comes down harder than before.

  I scream.
A fine sheen of sweat covers me. Again and again he slaps my pussy, flooding me with sensation. The wet sounds, sloppy and loud. I’m taut and shaking, so close to shattering.

  My orgasm hits like a tidal wave, sudden and intense. It crashes over me, stealing my breath and battering my frame.

  I’m still clenched constricted in orgasm when he moves over me, breaching me in one hard thrust. I cry out. He pulls out to the tip and thrusts again. Strung tight, I fight to accept his invasion.

  “Please, it’s too much.” Tears sting my eyes, my body bowed as he thrusts to my core.

  “It is not enough,” he grits, rocking forward like he can get even deeper. “I want it all.” His gaze captures mine, focused and intense. “Yield to me, my Allyson.”

  Reaching between us, he mercilessly pinches my clit between two knuckles, and I detonate again, screaming as I shake beneath him, straining against the bindings holding me immobile.

  His length is growing inside me, pressing hard against the walls of my sheath as he rocks back and forth and hits my spot over and over. My orgasm doesn’t stop. I gasp, my breath jagged, hoarse from crying out. When I think I can take no more, his body jerks over mine, a soul-rending groan tearing from his throat.

  Wet heat pulses inside me in waves. I quake with rippling aftershocks with every spasm of him inside me. I shift under him whimpering.

  He moves to take his weight to his elbows, and I moan as the motion rocks him deeper still, my inner muscles squeezing around him.

  “Mmm, do not move.” He groans. “Unless you want me filling you for the next cycle.” His eyes squeeze closed, and I receive another burst of warmth inside me.

  My eyes roll closed for a moment at the sensation. “How can you still be coming?” I pant.

  “Because I am Monrok,” he says as fact.

  Of course. The absurdity of his go-to answer makes me giggle.

  He groans, holding my hips still. Finally, he gently pulls from me and rolls to his back, on a satisfied sigh. His cock, though not as erect, looks like it swallowed something.

  “Is that normal?” I ask, pointedly staring at his crotch.

  He glances down. “My knot?”

  “You have a knot?”

  His face clouds over at my incredulous tone. I’ve obviously made him self-conscious.

  “I’ve just never seen one before,” I try to explain.

  “All Monrok knot when we mate.”

  It’s something out of Teenwolf fan fiction. I’ve always thought the idea was hot but never thought to experience it myself. I don’t think he’d appreciate my explanation at the moment, so I remain silent.

  With the sex haze lifted, I’m just feeling sticky and well used. He’s just doing his job and I’m just an orifice to be filled with his baby. Forgetting that would not be wise.

  “Can you release me?” Or at least clean me up, I silently add. At the moment, I am very aware of how many times he came inside me.

  He rolls onto his side, his head propped up on his hand as he looks me over like a panther about to toy with its prey. “I like you like this. At my mercy, dripping my essence,” he says trailing a finger down my stomach.

  I warm at his possessive words even as I groan in frustration.

  “I scent your new arousal each time you are restrained, held immobile. You like being helpless, Allyson, don’t you?”

  I should have never told him my name. His dark-as-smoke voice rolls it out like an intimate caress, making my stomach clench. I know the second he’s aware of his effect on me. It’s like a man who just realized he holds the winning hand.

  He smiles a wicked grin before he strokes his fingers through my bruised folds. My breath hisses out. I bite my lip as Cal nuzzles my neck, turning me on. None of my past sexual encounters prepared me for this. I’ve always been left a little unsatisfied, but now I’m not sure if I can take any more so soon.

  Suddenly, Cal sits up straight, at attention.

  Reaching over he swipes the T-shirt I wore earlier off the floor. With brisk efficiency, he wipes me mostly clean, his face a blank mask. I grit my teeth in discomfort. Gone is the demanding lover of only seconds before. In his place is the intense mercenary.

  This is a Monrok.

  The Elite Guard.

  Tossing the shirt aside, he rips off my cuffs, releasing me. I sit up in confusion, rubbing my wrists.

  He’s at the wall panel, pulling out clothes. He tosses me a shirt that hits me in the chest as he’s stepping into pants and boots.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, shrugging on the shirt.

  “We must leave now.” He grabs my hand, yanking me to my feet just as I get the shirt over my head.

  “Wait. What’s happening?”

  He wraps a hand over my mouth, stifling my question. He listens at the door. I stop breathing, not wanting to make a sound. My heart picks up, and I swallow my panic. But I do not calm. If he’s acting like this, it’s time to be worried.

  A scowl tightens his features as he glances down at me. “My brother has started the fucking rebellion. The gearan are coming for you.”

  Rebellion? Who the hell are the gearan?

  They are Zapex who serve the royal family, much like Earth’s eunuchs. They are sterilized, but their genitals are spared instead of mutilated. Cal’s reply rings in my head, his lips not moving. They are the ones who have likely been tending to you all week.

  Oh sweet Suzanna, did he just answer my thoughts?

  In surprise he stares at his hand over my mouth then shakes his head. “No time,” he says out loud, and I’m not sure it he’s talking to me or himself.

  The door at our side swooshes open. He pulls me through and down the passage and another hall. We duck into an alcove. He pushes me back against the wall just as I footsteps thud nearby.

  Three blue gearan round the corner and spot us. They hesitate, as if surprised. It’s a deadly mistake. Cal moves in a blur. The sickening crunch of snapping bones turns my stomach. In seconds, the three blue men lie sprawled on the floor, necks bent at odd angles, creepy black eyes unseeing.

  Without warning, the wall panel I’m pressed against opens. I stumble back into a cramped egged-shaped space. Cal shoves in with me, and I can’t even turn an inch the space is so tight. I’m suddenly claustrophobic. I can’t breathe. I want to claw at the sleek walls. I turn my head, trying to breathe.

  “Stop panicking. Your emotions are distracting me.”

  I take deep gasping breaths, trying to calm. Then scream as we’re moving at high speeds. The pod drops before it flips onto its side. Horizontal, we zip through twists and turns. It reminds me of a water park slide I once went to but ten times more terrifying.

  Cal holds himself braced not to crush me. I begin to chant, “Just like a water slide, just like a water slide,” with my eyes tightly closed.

  Finally, the pod rushes to a stop. Panels whoosh open over us, and I scramble to get out, barely registering the hands assisting me.

  I’m blessedly lifted up and out, into the cool air of some kind of dark engine room. The smell is slightly metallic. It’s a long low-ceilinged space full of sleek pipes, lit by the glow of digital screen monitors.

  The hands at my waist don’t release me, and I startle to see dark skin. But not blue. I jerk my gaze around and up to startling crystal-blue eyes mesmerizingly misplaced on the black man. His eyes are just like Cal and Kein’s, but that’s where the similarities end. He’s even taller and more muscular. Twin jagged scars run down his cheeks. And since he’s huge and scary and on a spaceship. I’m guessing he’s another Monrok.

  Another man stands next to him, more the size of Kein and Cal. ’He’s sniffing the air around me and watching me with a predatory gleam in his icy-blue eyes. His blond hair is cropped like a Mohawk, and a tapestry of tattoos covers his neck, disappearing into his shirt and running down his arms.

  I fight a chill, realizing this unexpected new danger.

  Before I can try to get away from either of these me
n, I’m torn out of the grip of the guy holding me. Cal wraps a proprietary arm around my torso from behind and silently stares down both men.

  “We heard you and your brother claimed a female for your own,” says the man with the Mohawk, his words bitter and angry. “And now we will war before we all have females?” The hostility radiating off him is palpable.

  Cal’s hold on me tightens. “All the brethren chose this moment. Your displeasure will not change the circumstances.”

  “Do you plan to share her?”

  “Not as long as I am alive.”

  Mohawk guy’s hands fist at his sides. “I could fight you for her,” he says, his voice low and menacing. He takes a step forward, but the other man holds him back with a thick-muscled arm.

  “And I would kill any being who tried to take her from me.” The intensity of Cal’s vow makes me shiver, and my heart glow, even if I’m no more than property to him.

  “Enough,” says the goliath of a man, shoving the Mohawk guy back. They stare at each other for a tense moment, and I wait for them to come to blows. The blonde shoots me an evil smirk that makes me shiver before he turns and leaves.

  Realizing I’d been holding my breath, air whooshes out of me, and I suck in more.

  The goliath turns and pins me with such an annoyed glance I fight the urge to step back, but I’m pressed against Cal. “We have shut down all access to the shuttle bays,” he says, and I hope the change of subject means I’m safe. “We are set to jump the second the shuttles leave the ship.”

  Cal’s jaw tightens but the tension leaves his muscles. “There are more females—”

  “They have been claimed and are en route to the shuttle bay now. Some females are still detained by the Zapex,” he says, cutting Cal off.

  Cal nods in acceptance.

  There were other females? I shudder, imagining what they’ve been going through. I grip Cal’s hand, looking up at him. “If there are other women, we have to save them.”

  “There is no saving those whose fates are sealed,” the goliath says.

  What, is this guy a fortune cookie? “But are they safe—”

  “Enough. That is not our concern,” Cal says roughly, and tears sting behind my eyes.