Warrior: A Scifi Alien Romance (Galactic Gladiators Book 2)

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Warrior: A Scifi Alien Romance (Galactic Gladiators Book 2) Page 10

by Anna Hackett


  She saw that Thorin was smiling.

  Regan jumped to her feet, her hands curling around the railing. “He’s letting that gladiator hurt him.”

  Then Thorin charged.

  He attacked the gladiator hard. The other man’s knives landed in the sand, along with the blood splatter from Thorin’s vicious blows. She saw his scales had appeared across his chest and arms. Regan looked away, sucking in air. This was her fault. She looked back, and as the gladiator tumbled backward onto the sand, Thorin followed him down, never faltering in his hits.

  Raiden and Nero hauled Thorin off the man.

  A siren wailed, and the announcer called the fight over. Since this was an exhibition match, there was no winner.

  Raiden and Nero pulled a struggling Thorin out of the arena.

  “I…have to go,” she said.

  Harper nodded. “Take care of him.”

  ***

  Thorin relished the sting of the cuts on his chest. He was covered in sweat and blood.

  “What in drak’s name were you thinking?” Raiden bit out.

  Thorin stayed silent.

  Raiden cursed. “I know you’re upset about the plan, but that doesn’t mean you beat some poor bastard half to death in an exhibition match.”

  “What if it was Harper?” Thorin’s words came out like projectiles. “What if she was going to be sold to the Vorn?”

  He saw Raiden’s face go tight.

  Thorin shook his head. “Hell, it’s not even the same. Harper can protect herself, Regan can’t.”

  Raiden crossed his arms over his chest. “She’s smart, clever. You need to trust her.”

  The emotions writhing in his chest were too much. “This…is stirring me. I can’t find any control.”

  The other man’s face turned serious. “Your…heritage is rising up.”

  “Yes.” Thorin stared at the scales on his arms. They were just a warning. He stalked off. Anger and fear were twisting inside him. Hell, fear. When was the last time he’d been afraid?

  He thought back, and could remember those moments in his brother’s ship, coming in to land at Kor Magna. His brother hadn’t said a word, but Thorin had known what was going to happen. He’d been a battle-hardened warrior and he’d still been terrified.

  But the first time he’d been forced into the arena, he’d vowed never to be afraid again.

  At first, he’d embraced and let loose the animal side that lived inside him. Then, with Raiden’s help, he’d learned to control it.

  Now, he was losing control of it, and he had no idea what to do. Thorin stomped into the House of Galen, watching workers scatter out of his way. He stalked through the living area and into his room.

  Then he stopped and stared.

  There were little candles everywhere. Regan was standing beside his bed in a simple blue dress. The outfit hugged all her curves and dipped low enough at the neck to show a hint of cleavage.

  They stared at each other. Beside her was a plain wooden chair, and on a small stand a bowl of steaming-hot water.

  “Sit,” she said quietly.

  He didn’t move.

  Her eyes flashed. “Sit.”

  He dropped into the chair. She reached out, her fingers brushing over the fastenings of his harness. She took her time unbuckling it and slipping it off his chest. Then she grabbed his left hand, her fingers moving over the bloodstained knuckledusters. He almost snatched his hand away, but sensing his thoughts, her grip tightened. He watched as she pulled them off, and then lifted his right hand and did the same. It seemed wrong to see the blood smeared on her fingers.

  Then, he felt her fingers in a feather-light touch over his torn knuckles.

  She let his hand go, reached over to the bowl, and wrung out a cloth. She started cleaning his wounds. He watched as the candlelight flickered over her skin, turning it golden. She wordlessly cleaned his right hand and then his left.

  After rinsing the cloth again, she started dabbing at the cuts on his chest. She made a clucking sound. “You shouldn’t have let them hurt you.”

  Her touch was driving Thorin crazy. Her scent was seeping into his senses, so deep he knew he’d never get it out. He felt his scales flicker along his arms. He felt like a beast in rut. He wanted to tear her clothes off, push her down onto the ground—

  Far too easily, he could see the two of them tangled on the bed as he drove inside her. He stiffened. She deserved better than a beast.

  She touched a deep cut on his shoulder and he made a hissing sound. She took her time, being careful as she cleaned it. Then she leaned down and pressed her lips to it. So quick and light he barely registered it before she was standing again.

  “Go in and shower. After, I’ll put some of my med gel on you.”

  Thorin didn’t protest. He couldn’t deny this woman had some sort of power over him. He went into his bathroom, shed the rest of his clothes, and stepped under the water. He didn’t linger in the shower, and he kept it cold. His hands clenched into fists against the stone tiles. He needed to find some control. He needed to send her away.

  He dried himself with a few careless swipes of the drying cloth. He wrapped the damp fabric around his waist, and headed back into the bedroom.

  She waved him back to the chair, and he sat down again. Then, her small hands were smoothing med gel on the cuts on his chest.

  “I don’t deserve this,” he grumbled.

  Regan eyed him. “Everyone deserves to be taken care of now and then. Even big, brooding gladiators.”

  She went back to her task. She kept stroking her fingers and the gel across his skin, and his cock swelled. She pressed into him as she reached up to the cuts on his shoulders, her full breasts pressing against him.

  His hands clenched on her hips. “Regan.”

  She must have heard the strain in his voice. She tossed the med gel aside, resting her hands on his shoulders. “Take what you need, Thorin.”

  “What?” He frowned at her.

  “Haven’t you realized yet that I’m yours?”

  His? No one had ever been his. The people he thought he’d loved had tossed him away.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.

  With a groan, he tugged her forward. She landed in his lap, straddling him. He liked the little gasp she made.

  Then Thorin reached up, gripped the top of her dress, and tore it open. Her breasts spilled out.

  “Thorin! You have to stop tearing my clothes.”

  He froze. “Don’t you like it?”

  Her mouth opened, then closed. “Well…”

  He grinned. She liked it. He pulled her forward, sucking one pink nipple between his lips. Her hands moved up, clamping onto his head. She moaned.

  He kept sucking and licking. Then he moved across to the other globe, teasing that pretty nipple.

  Holding her like this, touching her, tasting her, she felt like his redemption. This lush woman who looked at him like he was good and light. She was shifting against him now, making small, urgent sounds.

  He lifted his head and touched his mouth to hers.

  He’d never been a kisser—it was always too intimate, too slow. But he loved the taste of Regan. He thrust his tongue inside her mouth, wanting to explore every part of her, taste every part of her.

  “I’m burning up.” Her words were a husky whisper.

  He reached down and slid one hand under her dress. He moved along her thigh, until he found the damp heat of her. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. He ran his fingers through her folds. “You’re soaked.”

  She blushed. “For you.”

  He wanted to hear her come. He’d watched her pleasure herself just that morning, but he hadn’t had the chance to touch her, to be the one that made her come. He parted her folds and slid one thick finger inside her.

  Her moan was long and loud. Drak, she was tight. For a moment, he wondered if he’d fit inside her. He moved up, finding that intriguing little nub he’d watched her play with.
r />   “Oh.” She jerked. “Yes.”

  “What is this called?” He circled the sensitive flesh.

  “Clitoris.” Her voice was breathy. “My clit.” She frowned, curiosity shining in his little scientist’s eyes. “You haven’t…um…seen—”

  “Usually the sensitive places are inside the females.”

  He pumped his finger inside her again. He needed to make sure she was ready for him.

  Her mouth opened, her hands digging into his shoulders. “I’ve always thought it should have been on the inside, too. That would make life much easier.”

  “I like you just as you are, Regan.” The way she was moving, grinding on his hand, told him that she liked his touch. He carefully worked a second finger inside her.

  “Yes, Thorin. Make me come.”

  He loved hearing her talk like that. Dirty words said in such a prim, proper tone. He moved his thumb until he found her clit again. He watched her move, moaning, and he desperately wanted to know what her clit felt like on his tongue. Later. He made the promise to himself. For now, he pressed down on it in slick circles.

  “Yes.” She was riding against his hand, trying to find her release. Then she gasped and arched her back. As she cried out, he’d never seen anything prettier.

  Her head flopped down against his shoulder, her quick breathing echoing in his ear. “I need you inside me, Thorin. Please don’t make me wait anymore.”

  He couldn’t. He’d told himself a thousand times to stay away from her, but he couldn’t stop the need, and he couldn’t find the strength to push her away.

  He shoved the drying cloth around his hips to the side, freeing his straining cock. It was harder than it had ever been, pointing straight up. Then he yanked the remains of her dress off her hips.

  “You’re in charge.” His voice sounded so hoarse it was hard to make out his words. He wanted to push her back on the big bed, cover her with his body.

  But he wouldn’t risk hurting her this first time. He had to take care of her.

  He curled his hands around her waist, and lifted her up. She touched his face, his lips. Was she memorizing what he looked like? No one had ever stared at his rough face with such wonder. He wasn’t handsome like Kace, or rugged like Raiden. She leaned forward and again they kissed—rough, edgy, her teeth sinking into his lip. He slid his hands down to cup her ass, his hands clenching on the sweet globes.

  “I’ve got a big bottom,” she said quietly.

  He stroked her flesh. “You’re perfect.” He groaned.

  She was moving against him now, each shimmy rubbing his cock against the damp flesh between her thighs.

  Then she reached down and gripped his cock. She pushed up a little, pressing her other hand against his shoulder. She moved until the thick head of him was lodged at her slick opening, then her eyes met his. She lowered herself down.

  Drak. She was warm and wet and so damn tight.

  The fat, swollen head of him slid inside her and he watched as she bit her lip.

  “You’re so big,” she whimpered.

  Don’t stop. “Take your time.” The words cost him. He wanted to slam inside her, to throw her on the bed and take her.

  She kept lowering herself down, and he felt her stretching around him.

  “So full.” Her mouth rounded into a perfect O.

  Thorin gritted his teeth. Control. He needed control. “I’m hurting you.”

  “No. It feels good.” Her hand touched his jaw, forcing his head up. “Take me.”

  Unable to stop himself, he slammed his hips up, filling her, his cock lodged deep.

  Her nails bit into his shoulders and she cried out.

  He froze. “You’re too tight.”

  “No.” She moved her hips, finding some secret rhythm. “I like the way you fill me up.”

  She started lifting herself up and down, riding him hard. His hands flexed on her ass and he growled, the last of his conscious thought slipping away.

  Mine. Always mine. A greedy, animal echo from deep within him.

  As his control snapped, he thrust into her, determined to make this woman his in every way.

  Chapter Twelve

  They were both slippery with sweat, grinding against each other. Regan was panting, hovering on the edge of another orgasm. She was so close, but she couldn’t quite get there.

  She was so full and stretched. Thorin kept working her up and down on his massive cock, and she was a trembling mess.

  “Thorin.” She wasn’t sure what she was asking for, but he seemed to know.

  “You need my help, sweetness?” One rough hand slid between their bodies. “I’ll help you.”

  He found her clit and she whimpered. As he rubbed it, electricity shot through her, building so bright she felt a lick of fear.

  “Come on my cock, Regan. Let me feel you squeezing me.”

  Hearing that raspy voice saying her name set her off. She screamed, exquisite waves of pleasure slamming into her like a full-body blow.

  Thorin surged up to his feet, holding her tight, keeping himself lodged inside her. He took a few steps to the bed. She was still in the throes of her orgasm as he lay her down, his weight coming down on top of her. She loved the heavy feel of him.

  He thrust in, deeper than before. She screamed again and this time he took complete control. He was slamming into her over and over, until an animal growl was torn from his throat.

  “That’s me inside you, Regan. You’re mine.”

  “Yes!”

  He pulled out, staying with just the head of his cock lodged inside her. “Are you mine, Regan?” He pushed inside her. “Is this all mine?”

  He was straining above her, his muscles tense, his face harsh.

  “Yours,” she murmured. She’d never felt so safe, so consumed, so right, as she did with this man.

  He pushed deep, holding himself there as he came inside her.

  When he collapsed on her, she felt him readying himself to move. Regan clamped her arms and legs around him. “Don’t go.”

  “I’m too heavy.” He shifted to the side and pulled her in close, his cock still inside her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Regan sighed. Lazily, she leaned forward to press a kiss against his slick chest. “I’ve never had sex like that.”

  A rough hand stroked down her spine, before coming to rest on her ass. “I don’t think anyone has had sex like that.”

  She smiled against his skin. He was so big, hard, and tough, but he could still be sweet. He looked down at her, his face relaxed, but somehow fierce at the same time. She wondered if her gladiator was ever truly at peace.

  “I hated seeing you get hurt,” she told him.

  His arms tightened around her. “I was stupid to take the emotions into the arena. Raiden is always reminding us to keep a cool head.”

  “You let that gladiator hurt you.”

  Thorin pulled in a breath. “When I first came here, I was so angry. At my brother, my family, the situation. I’d dedicated my life to being a warrior for my people, and they threw that back at me. I found fighting helped me find some control. And when I got hurt, the pain helped me as well.”

  She made a small sound. “You need the pain?”

  “Not anymore. It doesn’t arouse me, or anything. There are some gladiators I know who get turned on by it. I was young and out of control.”

  “You were young, abandoned, and hurting.”

  “Tough gladiators don’t like to admit that.” He drew in a deep breath. “It was more than that.”

  She sensed the seriousness in his tone. “Tell me, Thorin.” She stroked a hand down his arm. “It has to do with your scales.”

  He cursed under his breath. When he tried to pull away, she held on tight.

  “Tell me.”

  “My species is the Sirrush. We’re big, strong, have enhanced senses. We were warriors.”

  That described her gladiator perfectly. “Okay.”

  “But centuries ago, our planet w
as invaded by another alien species.” His jaw worked. “They were a wild, brutish race. Scaled, wild, and vicious.”

  Regan fought to keep her emotions off her face.

  “They raped and plundered until they were finally defeated. But every now and then, a Sirrush child will show throwback characteristics of those invaders. A beast living inside them.” His gaze bored into her. “I am a monster.”

  Regan traced lazy circles on his chest, over the hard planes of muscle. “I love your scales, Thorin. I don’t see a monster.”

  “Sometimes I lose control—”

  “Lots of people do. It doesn’t make you an animal.”

  “You don’t understand. When I got here…I was an animal. My family used me as a warrior, a weapon, and then when…”

  When he’d gotten too dangerous, they’d abandoned him. She kept touching him. Something warned her that Thorin would need her to show him that she accepted him just as he was. Words wouldn’t be enough.

  “It’s hard to be alone. No one to lean on.” She remembered being in her cell. So completely alone.

  “Do not think of the Thraxians.” His hands slid over hers. “You aren’t alone anymore.”

  No. She had Harper, and this big, tough alien who had finally let her sneak past his hard shell. “I know you’re angry about the plan—”

  He cupped her chin. “Tonight, it’s just you and me. I don’t want to think about tomorrow yet.”

  She nodded. “I like the sound of that. So, what will we do?”

  “Well, I was thinking we’d take a shower together.”

  She shivered. Imagining his rough, soapy hands rubbing over her skin. “That sounds nice.”

  “Then I’ll lay you out and lick between your legs until you come.”

  She gasped. “Oh.”

  She heard him laugh. “You like the sound of that, huh, sweetness? I’m also planning to have my cock deep inside you all night.”

  All night? She wasn’t sure if she was excited, horrified, or impressed. Okay, she was excited.

  “I’m going to take you every way I know,” he said, his voice turning to a growl.

  Oh, boy.

  When he scooped her up and carried her toward the bathroom, Regan knew she was in for a long, wild night.

 

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