Keeping Their Human: Monrok Warriors 2

by Aubrey Cara

  Behind me, Jual ushers me forward so I trail behind Situs like an eager puppy, enjoying the feel of warm sun on my skin and cool earth under my feet. My pace slows only when I sense eyes on me. A few Monrok, as large and imposing as Jual and Situs are watching me with hungry expressions.

  At their approach, I find myself ducking behind Jual, Situs’s earlier warning ringing in my ears.

  My stomach churns and heart races, the luster of this new day taking on a bit of tarnish.

  JUAL

  Situs believes our human, Hannah, to be frail in mind as well as body, so I try not touch her overmuch. I give her space. I have promised to let her come to us when she is ready to be mated, even though I believe she is more resilient.

  As Baza, Yhunk, and Aryl come to greet us, I can feel her fear. She steps closer and behind me, shielding her body with my own. Already, she shows some survival instincts and turns to her mates for protection. This pleases me greatly.

  Aryl suddenly stops explaining the best technique to get the ground covering over the shuttle in one piece, his features hardening. “Your female, she does not carry your scent.” His nostrils flare as he stares at Hannah hiding behind me, his eyes gaining a predatory gleam. “You have not claimed her.”

  To punctuate his accusation a breeze carrying the scent of Beli and Mudah’s essence swirls around us from across the meadow where their mate stands arguing with them.

  Our essence is the only distinguishing scent we Monrok carry, and I curse for not having thought of this and what the lack of our scent on our mate would mean.

  Situs’s shoulders tense, and his hands fist ready to battle. “She was injured internally. Would you have us damage her further by rutting? She is our mate.” He, as well as I, would kill for her.

  “You claimed her for yourself and don’t even use her?” Yhunk complains.

  “I have a partner, and we challenge you for the female,” Baza says, stepping forward.

  Hannah chooses this moment to take my hand, and climbs under my arm, pressing to my side for security. She trembles her eyes wide, and I want to rip the heads off each of these ahehs. “Hsst. Can you not sense how much you all are upsetting our female? How she fears each of you? Challenge all you want. It will not change that she is our mate.”

  “Does she carry your child?”

  “It matters not. She belongs to us,” Situs roars, stepping in front of Hannah and I. From all around, heads swivel toward us, all activity stopping.

  Pulling our female even more tightly to my side, I turn, heading toward the shuttle. Situs has my back, and too many others are observing for those hadhr fuckers to try anything.

  Grumbled threats of challenge echo from behind us, but the situation has been defused for now. I lift her through the opening, follow her in, and close the hatch behind us.

  “What’s happening?” she asks, shaking, her face pinched with worry.

  “They know we have not properly claimed you.”

  “But you have. You just did.” Her brow scrunches, and her eyes spark with annoyance. Our sweet innocent mate does not understand.

  “We have not rutted you. You do not carry the scent of our essence.” I grab my lifebringer through my pants to make my meaning clear.

  Her eyes widen.

  “Until you do, any unmated Monrok will challenge us.”

  “Does this mean we’ll have t-t-to…copulate?” She steps back, her body tight, hand raised as if to ward me off. “I can’t. Please don’t make me.”

  I rake a hand through my hair in frustration. We were making such progress. “Calm yourself. We will think of something.”

  “What does it mean that they challenged you?”

  “We must battle.” I search her gaze, hoping she understands the danger she is in.

  “And if you lose?”

  My skin prickles, indignation rising in my chest at her lack of faith in us. “You would be made to submit to your new mates.” Who would likely not be as patient as we. But that will not happen. Situs and I would never let anyone take her from us.

  Her delicate hand covers her sob as I have seen her do too many times in the past few cycles. A dark cloud of despair hangs heavy around her. It is a darkness I have no experience with. That of a wounded animal. Were she an ordinary beast, I would put her out of her misery, but she is not ordinary.

  My gut clenches at the thought of terminating her.

  I could never.

  The urge to protect her from unknown adversaries grips me. I would destroy anything that tried to harm her.

  “God is punishing me,” she whimpers.

  I inwardly sigh. She hails from a strictly religious people whose faith is a foreign concept to Situs and I. We had much time to scan data on them. They believe in pacifism, and nonresistance, yet their god is as strict as he is vengeful. I do not understand this. “Your god is not punishing you.”

  “He is. I left my husband. My family has shunned me. I am unclean.”

  I know she means she’s dirty in spirit, not in actuality. It’s something she believes, so I do not argue. I do not ask why she left her husband. He could have not have been a good protector if she would desert him. And her family is a pack of hadhrs for turning their backs on one as gentle natured as she. No, I will not have her feeling guilt for this.

  “Your mate stands in front of you,” I tell her. I point to the hatch. “Your mate stands outside working to protect you.”

  She shakes her head. “You’re not my mates. You’re not my husbands.”

  Her denouncement stings, but I step forward taking her hands and place them on my face, right where my facial hair has grown thick. We Monrok are able to control the growth of our facial hair with our internal sensors. Our altered follicle structure is for added protection on extreme weather planets. I am glad of it, for in her culture, only the mated men grow beards. Situs and I have grown ours as a way to appease her. I want her to feel the symbol of devotion I wear for her.

  “We have taken you in time of war and claimed you for our own. By the dictates of your own culture, that makes us your husbands.” I have no guilt at using her beliefs against her. The sooner she accepts her new existence, the easier it will be to protect her. “We will shelter you, protect you, nourish you, and you, in return, will submit and obey us,” I say harshly then soften my tone. “We will not take your body by force, this we already promised you. We want you to give yourself freely to us. But know the longer you wait, the harder it is to protect you.”

  She shakes her head, her agitation growing as she backs away from me, palm extended. “I can’t accept this. This isn’t right. I can’t have two husbands, let alone three.” Her voice is raised, her eyes wild. “I’m going to hell. God is punishing me. This is all my fault.” She locks her delicate fingers around my wrists and brings my hands to her throat. “Kill me. Please.”

  I yank away, enraged. “You would choose death rather than accept me as your mate?” An uncomfortable sensation burns through my chest and twists my gut.

  She gasps, I’m not sure if by her actions or my words. Taking her wrist, I yank her over to the hover seats. Sitting down, I pat my lap. She moves to sit, but I push her back. “Lie across my legs, on your stomach,” I demand, not keeping the ire out of my voice.

  I could pull her over my lap, but after her denying me as a mate, I want her submission.

  “Why would you want me to do that?” My ears pick up the wild staccato of her heart beat, and I see her pulse jumping at the base of her neck. She knows why.

  “Your behavior is unacceptable.” I sense her fear but do not try to even my tone. “Wanting to harm yourself is unacceptable.” In my words, she should hear my displeasure and be afraid. “You will not deny our claim on you. You will not put yourself in danger. Will you submit for your punishment?”

  She vehemently shakes her head, and I yank her forward and facedown over my lap, giving her ass a hard, stinging slap.

  She freezes in shock.

  This cl
ose, her natural scent is tantalizing, her soft and shapely form a pleasing weight on my thighs. My cock twitches. I nearly lose my reason. The sight of her lush posterior peeking out beyond the hemline of the shirt she wears refocuses my objective. A red puffy print of my hand shows in stark contrast to her pale flesh, reminding me how delicate humans are. I do not want to harm or punish her, but this is the way of her people and may be the only way to get through to her.

  Raising my hand, I bring it down on her pale globes, but temper my strike this time. It makes a loud clapping noise, and she gasps, but I sense mostly shock, and embarrassment. I bring my palm down again and again until she is clinging to my leg and gently crying with true remorse. Only then do I stand her up in front of me, her face flushed a bright rosy hue with her shame.

  Her lower lip wobbles, and more tears spill over onto her cheeks.

  The emotions pouring off her are a confusing jumble I do not understand. She crosses her legs, rubbing her thighs together, and I swear I can smell the barest hint of her musky arousal, bu that can’t be right. “Did I injure you?” I kept my hand light, but humans are a fragile species.

  “No.” She shakes her head.

  I wipe her face, holding my wet fingers up for inspection. “Why are you doing this?”

  She shrugs. “You spanked me.” Her petulant tone sounds like an accusation.

  “You were being irrational. Speaking of harming yourself.” She drops her head, hiding her face. I scent her shame, and I lift her chin. “I am your mate. It is my duty to protect and discipline you.”

  “You’re not my husband.”

  “You think not?” I rise, standing over her. “Who just gave you a spanking?”

  Her eyes widen as she takes a step back, covering her bottom with her hands. “You, sir.”

  Sir. It is the human show of respect for men of authority and makes my lifebringer swell to attention. I appreciate it from her lips, even if she still will not admit I’m her mate.

  “There will be no denying our claiming.” I finger a strand of her silky hair, my annoyance at her denying me fading. Everything about her is gentle. Even her hair. Like the glow of the sun peeking over the horizon, the color is not quite red, not quite gold. “You must accept this new life, my little mate,” I try to reason with her. “For your own well-being.”

  She swallows thickly, nodding her understanding. “I’m still not ready for…you know.” Her eyes, the color of ash and river water, meet mine, and I can see her internal struggle. Feel it.

  “And we told you we will wait.” Stepping away, I decide to give her time.

  “Where are you going?” she asks nervously. “Please don’t leave me.” Though it is likely she says this because I am her only means of protection at the moment, her begging for me to stay still feels like a balm to my wounded pride.

  “I must help Situs in covering the shuttle and finding you sustenance.” The nutrient shots are almost gone. We will also have to collect water. Though we ate food on our moon home of Mehcad, it was more for sport. This will be the first time in our existence we live off ingested nutrients alone.

  “But what if someone breaks in?”

  “Situs and I will always be near, but do not leave the shuttle unless it is an emergency,” I say as an afterthought, but a vise constricts my chest at the thought of her being taken from us.

  She still wears my black shirt. It hangs large on her slender frame but does nothing to hide her shapely form. Her long, pale legs stretch out from under the shirt, hardly covered.

  An idea comes to me that makes my lifebringer stir. “Lie on the mat.”

  Her eyes go wide once again. “I thought you said—”

  “I will not rut you, but I am going to mark you with my essence so if anyone dares enter our shuttle, they will believe we have mated.” I wave her over, but she hesitates.

  “You’re going to mark me…with your…” She points to my growing erection as if the words are too much for her to say.

  I find her timidity oddly arousing. Maybe it’s the sight of her eyes widened as she emits the scent of fear, or the thud of her rapid heart rate, like frightened prey who knows its end is near. It awakens something predatory in me. It would be thrilling if my little mate gave chase. I can think of many ways to devour her.

  I work to calm myself and be rational. “As long as you are not ready, this is the best way to ensure you carry Situs’s or my scent.”

  She nods frightfully, but it’s two beats more before she takes a hesitant step and then another and another until she’s at the mat. Unblinking, she watches me like I will pounce as she sits down. Her trepidation is a living thing, radiating off her.

  My cybernetics work to clear my lust fueled mind. As much as I want to throw her down and shove between her legs, I must put her at ease.

  I crouch down and run my knuckle over her cheek. “I am not going to harm you.” I can see she fights her instinct to flinch away, but lets me pet her. My heart swells.

  “Wh-wh-what should I do?” Her voice is breathy, and I hope this will not frighten her from ever wanting to rut, but it is the best way to insure she is protected.

  “Lie back. Lift your shirt around your waist and open your legs.”

  Her gaze jerks to mine, and she shakes her head, her knees locked together.

  “Look at me, Hannah.” Her mouth set in a mutinous line, she blinks up at me. “I am not going to take you today. Even if you beg me.”

  She gasps in outrage, but my ridiculous words work. I kneel on the mat between her legs as she reluctantly bares herself for me. Her core is like an ashwana bud, and I remember seeing it swollen, wet and blossomed open for me. She may have been drugged, but her rich nectar is a taste imprinted on my memory forever. An echo of that scent rises up weaving around me like smoke.

  My cock, already lengthened in my pants, throbs larger still as I take it out. Finding release will not be difficult.

  Her hands are fisted at her sides, her face turned away.

  I think to the seraphic jubilance she radiated stepping out of the hatch for the first time, and vow she will one day express that same joy when it comes to mating. I look forward to feeling her release against my tongue and fingers again, and again, before pushing my aching cock inside her snug little cunt.

  “Touch yourself,” I tell her. I want to see her fingering her mound and imagine myself there.

  Her shocked gaze swings to mine. “What?”

  “Touch your cunt.”

  She cringes at my words. “Why?”

  It is on the tip of my tongue to command she comply, but instead reason with her. “It will help me.”

  She peers down my body, her face flushing as she takes in my dripping cock, obviously not in need of any more assistance than my hand. But she licks her dry lips before placing her trembling fingers on her bare mound. I want to grind her digits into her heat until she arches up in pleasure. I growl in frustration.

  “What do you feel?”

  “Naked,” she answers. “They took my hair.”

  My lips kick up at her outrage. Humans are strange creatures. “They took mine, too. They replaced the hair follicles with enhanced pathogen blocking sensors.” Her curious gaze darts down to my groin and away, then back, her pulse and breath rate increasing.

  Just the sight of her flushed and panting makes me want to spill all over her. I can feel her anxiety trumping her fear, along with confusion. And the barest hint of arousal. That gives me hope like nothing else ever has. I take the moisture from the tip of my cock and smooth it down the length.

  Delicate pink skin peeks out at me from between her slender, exploring fingers. I imagine them wrapped around my cock, aiding me, and stifle a groan.

  “What you feel under your hand is mine.” I stake my claim, my voice rough as I work my eager flesh with torturously slow strokes.

  She shakes her head in denial.

  “Yes, it is. It is mine. And what I hold is yours.” She shakes her head again. “Loo
k at me,” I command. Her gaze darts to my eyes then back down to where I pleasure myself. “This is yours. Yours to care for and to command, and one day you will welcome it inside your body, and it will bring you only comfort and pleasure.”

  Her eyes well, and she tries to close her legs, but my knees keep them wedged open. The scent of her mating nectar blooms in the air, and this time it is unmistakable.

  My groin tightens, urging me to spill, but I hold off.

  “Tell me,” I demand. “Tell me you want my essence marking you. Protecting you.”

  Her trembling fingers leave her mound and wrap around my cock just above mine. With a guttural groan, I erupt, shooting my essence all over her bare lap and thighs in ropey pulls.

  Her breath hitches, but I hold her hand to me until the last drop has spilled from my body. I bring her knuckles to my lips, kissing them in appreciation, before bringing them down to the flat of her belly where my wetness cools.

  “Rub it in,” I tell her, moving her palm over her mound and pushing her fingers as well as my seed inside her.

  Her face flushes a becoming scarlet, but she does as she is told and continues to rub my scent into her skin, pushing it inside herself.

  The sight makes me pulse to life again, even though I just spilled. I groan as I tuck myself back into my pants and find her a cleansing cloth for the excess mess then help wipe her hand clean.

  Her eyes still dart around, hesitantly meeting mine only to flee and lock on anything but me. I can sense her shame as she sits up and tucks her legs underneath her.

  A tear rolls down her cheek.

  “None of this,” I say, wiping away the wetness. “You did well, my little mate. I am proud of you.”

  The emotions that roll from her at my pronouncement are too many to decipher. I press a kiss to her forehead and stand because I cannot bear to leave her without showing some sign of my budding affection for her. “You are safer now but should still remain inside until those who challenge us drop pursuit.”

  Her pale-pink lips open and close as if she would like to say something as the hatch opens. I see the longing in her eyes to go outside, but she remains silent as I step out and lock the hatch behind me.