“No need to apologize, Moju. I’m heading to the command center. Walk with me. I’d like to speak to you privately. Get your input on another matter.”
He looked relieved to be freed of the task I’d set him. “Certainly, sir.”
“You and I both know the battle ahead is beyond anything we’ve ever faced. Our race has been decimated. I believe we can defeat the enemy—and save other worlds from destruction. But engaging in this war will take the lives of many more Arythians—brave warriors we can scarcely afford to lose.”
Moju nodded gravely. “Life is precious. That is why long ago our race chose a path of peace.”
“Mantsk and I have chosen our partners, but as you know there are other Terran females being kept in stasis on the solport,” I went on. “I’d like to offer my starship commanders the opportunity to choose a mate—before we go into battle. But they’d have to wait to claim their choice until after it’s over. I’m hoping seeing my Mating Ceremony and knowing they have one of their own to look forward to when they come back will give them the will to win. No matter how great the odds.”
“A wise choice. Fighting for someone gives a warrior more power than fighting against.”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “Ah, Moju. I remember the day you first said that to me. Your talents are wasted counseling lusty females on how to fuck. Why don’t you accompany me to the war room? I have far greater need of your skills there. Your body may have seen its last battle, but your mind is at its peak.”
“I am honored to serve in any way I can, Admiral.” Moju straightened his spine. The years seemed to lift from him, and his stride lengthened.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I may have relinquished my command, but I’d never quit caring about the men who’d served under me. Moju had been a great warrior in his prime, but he was too old for combat. I’d given him the task of acting as elder to my future mate so he’d feel he still had something to contribute. But the mark of a good leader was admitting he’d made a mistake and then taking action to correct it. Besides, Jess was right. My mate didn’t need a lecture on “the mating process.”
Moju strode along like a warrior in his prime and I had to pick up my pace to stay by his side. I didn’t mind hurrying. The sooner we finished the strategy session, the sooner the ceremony could take place. And the sooner I could show Trreena she still had a thing or two to learn about what my multiple cockheads could do.
Chapter Twenty
Dylos
Trreena knelt before me, so beautiful it took my breath away. Jess had outdone herself, plaiting my mate’s hair with a rainbow of ribbons, painting each tiny fingernail a different color. But the rosy blush on her cheeks was natural. I could hardly wait to get her alone in our quarters and bring a matching blush to her curvy bottom cheeks.
She repeated the ancient vows, and Rahal launched into a speech that went on far too long, considering what awaited me at its finale. Finally, he finished. I reached down, took her hands, and pledged my love and devotion to my true and only Mate. Forevermore. When I finished my vows, I pulled her into my arms for a kiss that held all my love. Then, to rousing applause from a Great Hall filled with warriors, I swept her off her feet, gave her another kiss that foretold a night of wild passion, and carried her away.
“Where are you going?” she asked as I headed for the solport’s transport bay.
“I’m taking you to our quarters.”
“Right now? But what about the reception? Everyone is gathering to celebrate. The cooks have prepared a feast.”
“When I put you down, it will be to rip this gown off you, lay you on your back, and kiss every inch of your body, then fuck you until you scream. Do you really want me to do that in the center of the banquet table?”
She giggled and nestled her head in the crook of my neck. “No…Master.”
The single word ramped up my desire to fever pitch. I stepped into the transporter and entered my code. “Before Jess threw him out, did Moju describe the Arythian ritual that takes place after the Mating Ceremony?”
“He started talking about a male’s cockheads, but he was being so stuffy Jess started teasing him. I couldn’t resist chiming in. That’s when you showed up.”
In the blink of an eye, we were whisked to the transit bay of my ship. My footsteps rang out in the empty corridors. “So, you didn’t let him finish?”
She took one arm from around my neck to stroke the growing bulge in her belly and giggled. “Nope! But like Jess said, we’ve pretty much figured out how your mating process works.”
I stopped in front of the door to our quarters and shifted her in my arms to lay my palm on the scanner. The door slid open. “Trreena, I gave Moju a task. You interfered with his ability to complete it. That is no way to begin your life as a proper Arythian mate. You deserve a punishment.”
She looked up at me to see if I was serious. “On our wedding…I mean…our Mating Day?”
I put her down in front of the bed. “Had you listened to Moju, you’d have found out Arythian tradition decrees that after the Ceremony the male asserts his mastery over his mate with a spanking. I planned to wait until later, but your behavior warrants one right away. Take off your gown.”
“Yes…Master.” My temptress took her time about it, drawing the hem up inch by inch, a seductive smile on her face. Prolonging the moment when I’d see her sweet pussy and ass bared for me.
My cockheads swelled in anticipation. “That behavior will earn you extra smacks.”
“Oh, I hope so,” she murmured, her voice sultry and low.
She pulled the gown over her head and let it fall. I ripped off the dress uniform I’d worn for the ceremony and tossed it aside, running my gaze over her magnificent body. Shapely legs, full hips. Though her belly had begun to swell, her waist was still so tiny I could circle it with my hands. I loved her new curves, the lush fullness of her breasts. Pregnancy had darkened her nipples to a deep ruby shade. I reached out and took one between my finger and thumb, squeezing gently. It hardened into a tiny peak. When I bent my head to draw it into my mouth, she moaned.
I longed to bury myself in her sweet heat right then, but I knew a few firm spanks would make her juices flow and enhance the enjoyment for both of us. I took my mouth away and tilted her chin up to meet her eyes. “You were very naughty, tassi, speaking to Moju the way you did. You’ve earned a good spanking. Turn around and bend over.”
“Yes, Master,” she breathed.
She draped herself over the bed, head nestled on her folded arms. I stroked the plump mounds of her ass, and she arched her back, tilting her hips up. I delivered a firm whack. Trreena drew in her breath but didn’t move. I spanked her again.
“Tell me why you’re being punished.”
“I teased Moju.”
My hand came down, covering the twin mounds of her ass in a single whack. She let out a tiny cry and rose up on her toes.
“That’s not all,” I replied. “You and Jess talked about mating. Discussed my manhood. In front of another male.”
I smacked her again. I’d begun this punishment as a way to ramp up my desire—and hers. But thinking about my mate discussing intimate subjects with another male sparked a burst of jealousy in me. “You were supposed to listen,” I growled. “Not tell him how much you like multiple cockheads and how they feel inside you.”
The more I went on, the more I decided she really did deserve to be punished. “You are my mate now. You belong to me. Forevermore. Not to anyone else.” I started spanking her in earnest, punctuating my words with firm smacks. “Say it.”
“I belong to you,” she cried out.
“Not to anyone else.” The twin globes of her ass were glowing, a bright red that inflamed my lust.
“Not to…aaah…anyone else!”
“My cockheads are the only ones that will ever claim you!”
“Ooow! Yes, Master.”
“Spread your legs,” I demanded. “Wider.”
I stepped betwee
n her thighs, ran my hands up the insides of her legs, and dipped a finger into her pussy. She moaned and ground her hips back against me.
“You’re dripping wet. You want my cockheads inside you? Are you ready to become a true Arythian mate?”
“Yes, please, Master.” Her voice was rough with need.
“Once I take you, you are mine. Forevermore.”
“I’m yours, Master,” she cried. “I’ve been yours and yours alone since the first time you touched me.”
“Then take me now. Take all of me.”
For the first time, I gave up control. Savage lust tore through me. I dug my fingers into her hips and held her while my cockheads took on a life of their own. Ravishing her.
One lengthened to stroke the tiny bud between her thighs. Three others slid into the wet heat of her pussy. Probing. Thrusting. Delving deep. Her muscles clenched in rhythmic waves. She screamed as she came, a wild cry that sent me soaring. Spurred me to the final claiming.
Her body shuddered when my last cockhead began working its way past the pucker of her ass. Twisting in, slowly and relentlessly, then swelling to fill her tight channel.
“Yes. Oh God, yes! Fuck me, Master. Fuck my pussy, fuck my ass!”
She came a second time when the first head began spurting. I threw back my head and roared, holding her tight as I exploded. She kept on coming, pussy and ass clenching around me, milking every drop while my cockheads pulsed. Filling her with my cum. Marking her as mine.
My mate.
Forevermore.
Tamed: Centauri Captives Book 3
Joran
I command an elite team of warriors. Lead them into combat, conquer my enemies. How can one human female be so hard to tame?
Once our world was the pride of the galaxy. Now Arythios is gone. Destroyed by evil forces while we were away. Our leaders, our friends, our lovers – all dead. We alone survived. But without offspring, our race will not.
Homeless, hopeless, we begged the Interstellar Federation to help us track down and vanquish our enemies. They ignored our request. Instead, they sent us a handful of females from a primitive planet called Earth. “To see to the needs of your troops,” their ruler said.
I was ordered to choose one of the aliens. Breed with her. My human is stubborn and undisciplined, not like our sweet, gentle Arythian females. Her fiery spirit tempts me to indulge my darkest desires. But if she is to be my mate, she must learn to obey me. She will submit – or she will be punished.
She will be tamed.
Xia
I may be the captive of an alien warlord. But I call no man Master.
And I never will.
A feral child, abandoned in the wild, I survived by being stronger, tougher than the most ferocious beasts. After my rescue, I trained as a warrior. Fighting side by side with the men, yielding to none. Now I’m trapped on an alien warship. The arrogant commander thinks he owns me. He’s determined to turn me into his submissive mate. I’m determined to escape.
I can never let him know I find his dominance wickedly arousing. Stern punishment won’t bring me to my knees – but I’m becoming a slave to the passion he’s awakening in me.
Centauri Captives is a steamy sci-fi romance series from USA Today Bestselling Authors Kallista Dane and Kate Richards featuring masterful alien warriors and the captive Earth women they take as mates in a desperate attempt to save their race from oblivion.
Each book is a stand-alone, introducing a strong smart heroine and a super-hot alien hero locked in a battle of the sexes as old as the Universe.
Tamed
A Dark Sci-Fi Romance
Centauri Captives Book 3
By
Kallista Dane and Kate Richards
Chapter One
Xia
The air carried a new scent. Overriding the sharp metallic smells. A musky odor like that of leather and sweat. It must have been the whiff of something different that awakened me.
Those weren’t the scents of my home. Or my ship. Or the hellhole where I’d spent the last six months.
I kept my eyes closed, my breathing slow and regular, using all the skills and heightened senses I possessed to figure out where I was. No light-headedness. No ground under my feet, so I must be lying flat.
It wasn’t the slumberpod on my ship. There I awakened on a soft cushion of air scented with lavender. For some odd reason, whoever designed the gravibeds on our ships decided being surrounded by the artificially-created odor of dusty purple weeds would be soothing. Personally, I preferred the smell of leather covered with a thin film of fresh, honest sweat—the scent that was growing stronger with every intake of my breath.
I tested my range of motion. Discovered I couldn’t move my arms or my legs. But I didn’t feel any restraints around my ankles or wrists. So, something else rendered me immobile. I ruled out paralysis since all my muscles responded when I tensed them. Could it be some invisible force holding me in place?
Next, sounds. A mechanical beeping, accompanied by odd clicks and grunts, along with unintelligible strings of rough consonants. I’d heard those vocalizations before, in the background, when Ravensworth’s men tried to strap me to that table. The memory was vivid. Three of them hadn’t been able to accomplish it. I’d tossed one against the wall and dislocated the arm of another before the third made a hasty retreat.
Then—nothing but darkness. Stillness. Until now. In a barely perceptible motion, I flexed the muscles in my buttocks. Hard surface, cool against my skin.
I’m on the damn metal table. They must have drugged me, pumped a gas into the room through the ventilation system after they ran away. Fucking cowards.
My throat was dry, but my head wasn’t pounding. There was no nausea, not even a nasty taste in my mouth. That ruled out half a dozen compounds I could think of. I gave a mental shrug. No point spending any more time trying to give it a name.
On the table, then. But not in the same room I was in before. My senses told me this space was larger, with more hard objects to magnify and echo every sound. Machines. That explained the sharp metallic scent in the air.
Sound. Scent. Touch. Taste. I’d exhausted them all. That left two. Sight…and the undefinable, unnamed sense I’d developed as a small child. I knew when a storm was brewing, when danger lurked on the other side of an outcropping of rocks. Knew before an enemy moved which way it would pounce.
Somewhere in the room, lights were flashing. Red, yellow, purple, green. I could see the imprint of the colors dancing on the insides of my eyelids. Slowly, I opened one eye a slit.
The musky odor of leather and sweat came from an alien making his way toward me. The being stopped at other metal tables, inspecting the silent figures spread out before it. The alien moved slowly, giving me time to size him up.
It was definitely a “him.” Tall, probably well over seven feet, judging from the height of the tables compared to his body. He wore midnight-blue pants and a matching shirt, topped with a sleeveless vest made from the hide of some unidentifiable animal. The source of the leather smell.
Other than the size of him and his gray skin tone, he could have passed for a human. A prime physical specimen of a human. He moved gracefully, no wasted motion, with a stillness about him that brought back long-forgotten memories of wild beasts on the prowl.
As for the musky scent? Raw male pheromones. They emanated from every pore of his muscular body, grew stronger when he lingered to run his fingers through the long blonde locks of the woman on the table next to me. He turned and said something to an unseen figure in a far corner of the room.
The other being responded. More grunts and garbled sounds. My mind struggled to interpret them, and I realized Ravensworth—or someone—had ordered an updated Tellex chip implanted in my brain. One unfamiliar with this language, since it didn’t immediately begin translating.
It could be hours, even days, before the chip was fully functional. I couldn’t afford to wait that long, so I consciously shut down the conn
ection and relied on my own abilities. I didn’t try to translate sounds and gestures into familiar words. I simply absorbed them. Felt them. Allowed the most primitive part of my brain to take over.
The alien cocked his head to one side as he listened to the response. The muscles in his shoulders relaxed, and he uttered a string of sounds, all alike. Short, staccato noises without a hint of anger or fear.
Alien laughter? The other being must have said something humorous.
I possessed a unique skill. One never taught in all my warrior training. An ability that had served me well in my career. Unlike anyone I’d ever met, I was uniquely qualified to understand the communication of an alien species.
I’d learned to do it as a tiny child, when interpreting pants and whines, grunts, snarls, and full-throated roars had meant the difference between life and death. Watching, listening, reading the clues from muscles tensing and shifting, told me when to flee and when to draw near. Those were my earliest memories, flooding back into my mind as I watched the hand and body motions, listened to the guttural sounds coming from my captors.
For captors they were.
Lined up as far as I could see, rows of metal tables held motionless reclining figures. I couldn’t tell if all of them were human like me. But the alien’s surging pheromones led me to guess they were all female. All pinned in place, unable to defend themselves. Unable to get away.
The alien turned away from the blonde he’d been examining. Glanced around. His gaze came to rest on me. It was the first chance I’d had to see his face.
Centauri Captives Books 1-3: A Dark Sci-Fi Romance Page 17