Royally Mine: 22 All-New Bad Boy Romance Novellas

by Susan Stoker

  Simin had more to say on the subject. “Alphas showing you these things were employing psychological warfare used to twist an enemy population’s thinking into the aggressor’s design. It simplifies invasion.”

  “They told me Alphas loved Omegas, that they existed to protect them. That all of it was for my own good.”

  He needed to hold her, and could offer only a purr. “They lied to you.”

  Morgaine nodded, but she looked utterly sad. “I know. Otherwise they would not have threatened to whip my mother if I continued to disobey. They never loved me at all.”

  Eager, he proclaimed, “I love you, kor’yr.”

  “You don’t know me.” It had not been near an hour, but Morgaine turned around and walked away from the warrior who was contemplating risking death just to embrace her once.

  ***

  For three weeks Simin had arrived at the designated time, stood ten feet from his kor’yr and communicated with her only via translator. In that time, he had learned a few words of her language in an effort to impress her, and she in turn, had shown what she had learned.

  Conversation was still tense.

  “They have told me I do not have to meet with you if I do not want to… that I never have to cross that line on the floor or leave these rooms… but I have come to every meeting.”

  Arms crossed over his chest, head cocked to the side, and paying attention to every last nuance in conversation, Simin said, “And you don’t know why.”

  “I feel better standing here than alone. Maybe it’s the purr.”

  He smiled. “I’ll stop purring, and you tell me if you still like standing near me tomorrow.”

  There was more introspection she needed to say. “I thought it was cologne… something you put on your skin. You don’t smell like other males.”

  His grin grew. “I have just come from physical training.”

  “The fur scraps in the Alpha’s sleeping pit stank of men. You don’t smell like men. You smell like…” She stopped herself and bit her lip.

  He was not sure he liked where this was going. “Like what?”

  Chuckling, eyes alive, Morgaine said, “Food. You smell like spice cake. It’s a flattering comparison, I promise. At least, if you like spice cake.”

  “I’ve always thought you smelled like sunshine.”

  She blushed. It was not the first time he’d been able to get her to do it, but it felt just as good watching those sweet cheeks go pink.

  The dress was the same white frock he’d seen their first day of courtship, but each afternoon something had been added. She’d crafted detail into the skirt, used colored thread to embellish a sleeve. Today there was something special in the sash around her middle. Simin had noticed right away. “You are wearing red.”

  “I made the dye from the seeds you found. There was enough so I might make the other Omegas a gift. This,” she began to untie the sash, “I thought you might like.”

  The strip of cloth Morgaine held out to him, the Alpha looked at it with a sigh. “I cannot reach it, kor’yr.”

  Cautious, she took a step closer to the line, outstretched her arm fully, but still he did not raise his hand. Simin waited for her to come to him.

  Patient, determined, Simin tried to remind her of what they had shared. “I would only hurt you for your pleasure.”

  The words sent a chill over growing gooseflesh, Morgaine’s eyes on the male’s bared chest. The closer she crept, the more obvious his effect on her. It was not just the way she inhaled deeply through her nose, it was her eyes. The blue was disappearing, being eaten up by a black pupil.

  She was so close to a mating high, and he had not so much as laid a hand on her in weeks.

  “Your estrous will arrive soon…”

  Her head snapped up, as if she’d forgotten he was more than a body to leer at. Heart beating fast, feeling strange, Morgaine, nodded. “That is what they have told me.”

  Voice low and velvet, he tried to coax her nearer. “What else have they told you?”

  “That I will have to choose between days of pain or the company of an Alpha to see me through my first heat.” Unblinking she met his gaze, completely enraptured. “I have already experienced so much pain back in the settlement when Alphas came, and I am afraid I will not survive more. But the only Alpha I know here is you… and I’m afraid of you too.”

  “I don’t think you are afraid of me at all.” A gentle curl to his lips, a subtle purr was offered. When she edged even closer, he teased. “If you hold my hand now, you’ll see that I can be a lamb.”

  With her near enough to touch, Simin moved slowly as if to take the red sash, but instead ran the back of his fingers up her arm. The Omega let out a breath, closing her eyes on a hum.

  He dared to touch her curls. “And if you let me kiss you now, you’ll find that I do taste like spice cake—which I suspect you enjoy very much.”

  The smell of slick was abundant and rich, though hidden by the layers of the Omega’s skirts. Simin’s rut was coming, his need for her mounting with each beat of his heart, but he fought the urge to grab her and stake a claim.

  Breathless, Morgaine whispered, “You brought me here because you knew I was unhappy. You brought me here to this place where I feel safe, a place where you cannot take me away without my permission… and I want you to know that I understand that.”

  His hold on control was slipping away. “Then will you come home?”

  She looked thoroughly tempted, licking her lips as if imagining licking the expanse of chest before her eyes. When her eyes traveled downward to find the clear outline of his hard cock behind the leathers, she whimpered.

  “Please, kor’yr, come home. You don’t need estrous as an excuse to be cared for.”

  The growing scent of fear ruined the sweetness of her arousal. “Tell me one thing the Omegas have yet to share. What does kor’yr mean?”

  “Soulmate.”

  Daring much, Morgaine took his hand and pressed the soft red fabric to it. “When a woman in my village found delight in a suitor, she would make him a gift.”

  No more explanation was offered, Simin’s Omega stepping back behind the safety of the golden line.

  Chapter Eleven

  His female was agitated, pacing, and stank of impending estrous. She refused to look at him, pausing often to grimace and catch her breath. “I don’t know why you came here at this hour. You should be sleeping.”

  “The Omegas called for me to come to you.”

  There were frustrated tears on red cheeks, sweat on Morgaine’s brow, and by the wild look of her hair, she had been transitioning for some time. “I thought having you close was supposed to make me feel better, but I only feel worse. You are not helping me at all!”

  Smelling her this way was killing his self-control. Member so hard it throbbed in pain, Simin forced himself to take a step back. “At this stage, females seek seclusion to prepare their nests. Male presence is… for later.”

  “The rut?”

  Hearing that word from her lips drew a gush of pre-come from his cock. “It would not be wise to keep me here if you’ve chosen to be alone through this.”

  Nostrils flaring, the Omega began to sniff in his direction. Practically drooling, she fell to her knees and put her face right to the damp spot on his leathers. Her mutterings were half slurred. “Help me.”

  “Do you want me to stop you? Tell me now, kor’yr, before I lose control.” Fingers splayed, his hands hovered over her head as if he wanted to grab her hair and pull her mouth flush to the dripping cock behind his clothing.

  Mindlessly, she began to lick the slick black of his leather as if there was a way to taste what his body offered her.

  The translator, groggy and half dressed, stood by as she always did. It was to her he pleaded, “You have to pull her off of me. I cannot do it. You have to do it now.”

  The translator remained statue still, watching the couple war with themselves.

  His kor’yr, on the
other hand, was pure action.

  Morgaine did not understand the fastenings of his cover, her little fingers fumbling with the layers in an attempt to break free the pulsing organ inside. The female was gone, black-eyed, and crazed in her frenzy.

  Her hand closed on his girth, a happy chirp passing parted lips, only to find her hair had been captured and her skull forced away from its prize.

  “Stop, Morgaine.” Tormented, Simin shook with the effort to hold her back. “Your first estrous is special.” He could barely breathe, conquered by one small female. “It’s not to be wasted. If this is not what you want, I can wait for the next one. By then you will understand some of what I say.”

  “You would leave me in pain? I’m empty, my bed here is not a nest. I want you to take me to yours, I need you to fill me up… hurt me for my pleasure like you promised.”

  He would not let her use her lips, so she used her hands to stroke the parts of his cock she might reach. Smearing the slippery offering glistening on his cockhead, she brought her fingers to her lips and began to noisily suck them clean.

  She was trying to kill him. He may have conquered planets, been a warrior of great rank, but one Omega was destroying him piece by piece. He spurt more pre-come against his will, gobs of temptation landing on his female’s face.

  “If I take you to our rooms, you won’t leave them unbonded again. You will be mine in every possible way forever.”

  Her eyes went as wide as the moon. Desire, lust, hunger, she was all these things, temptation of the slyest succubus as her pink tongue darted out to gather his fluid from the corner of her mouth. “Will you bite me?”

  “Oh Gods.” It was too late. The roar came from him as he grabbed her and slammed his lips to hers. His every instinct told him to rush her from that open place and hide the Omega away in his bed. Only there would her delicious scent be hidden from challengers. Only there could he fuck her mindless in every way she needed all the days of her estrous.

  Only there could he rip his teeth through her skin and mark her his for life, forge an unbreakable pair-bond, and own her completely.

  No Omega tried to stop their prince as he stole the feral foreigner away from their enclave. Rushing through the halls of his warship, his female caught up in one of his arms, he pushed past any male foolish enough to dare enter his path. Several he struck, roaring as he claimed the estrous high female as his.

  Once back in his rooms the door was locked, shutting all pursuing Alphas out. But that was not enough. The temptress needed to know that she would be his now.

  There would be no changing of her mind. This he explained in a rip of her clothing. This he described by forcing her to her knees so he might feed her the fat head of his cock.

  And as she desperately sucked his dripping organ for more, he sealed his intentions with a roar.

  There would be no refusal. He’d waited enough, been patient, and all his frustration he would take out on her flesh.

  His kor’yr he threw into the nest, tearing his covering away, falling on her splayed body and forcing her thighs to part. Her hissing and struggles were silenced with a single growl, one that left her cunt offering a river of slick. He would feed on it later, after she had been made to endure the strength of her mate.

  Rough in her handling, he flexed his hips indelicate in his entry… and she keened her joy at his violence.

  Pumping with a fervor that pushed her body away, he withdrew, pulled her back, and abused her hole, ignoring all alien gibberish falling from her lips. When the first knot came, he had her by the hair, had her knee pinned by her ear, and forced it in as deep as flesh and bone would allow.

  It was a glorious release gathering in the base of his spine, drawing his sack up tight to explode with abandon inside the feral Omega. Again a great spurt shot from his body to fill her up, a shred of reason breaking through the rut.

  Beneath him was perfection, a screaming Omega whose cunt squeezed his knot like a vise. She would take every drop of his come, be forced by his knot to hold it tight in her belly, and when he had her worked into the ultimate frenzy, he’d rip a hole into her very soul and tie them together. She would never be able to hide from his power, his influence, or his lust.

  He would own her.

  Just as much as she would own him.

  Smiling, he looked down to see her somewhat calmed, still trembling from the force of her pleasure, and happy.

  She did not smell of fear when her first demand in his language was offered. “More, kor’yr.”

  To be continued...

  ***

  For more Alpha/Omega/Beta deliciousness check out Addison Cain’s award winning international bestseller, the Alpha’s Claim Series.

  About Addison Cain

  Addison L. Cain was born in sunny California, but found herself drawn to dwell in older, history-rich places. Japan, Ireland, Qatar, and now Washington DC, Addison is always on the move, always eager to immerse herself in new cultures and people. Her stories reflect the antiquities she loves: deep and sometimes very dark. Driven to push her characters beyond the pale, Addison’s books are not for the faint of heart.

  An alumni of California State University Fullerton, she earned a degree in Japanese and spent years in Asia studying indigenous Japanese religion. Primeval forests and worn pathways have led to her obsession with gardening. Her Great Dane approves, loping around the yard and getting into mischief. Unfortunately, the cat has to watch from a window, and because Addison is a total sucker for his sad golden eyes, he gets hours of belly rubs and too many treats.

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  Theirs to Love by Celeste Jones

  Chapter One

  Cassie

  I'd heard rumors of places like this, I just never thought I'd see it with my own eyes.

  You know those maps the cell phone companies have showing their coverage areas with just a few tiny specks still in white, indicating no coverage? Apparently, I was in a white speck.

  I had not been without a working cell phone by my side for over a decade. It felt a little like flying without a net… the internet.

  Not only that, but I was using my phone for GPS, and now I had no idea where I was going. But since there was only one road, with no turn offs in sight, I just kept going.

  As I thought about it, it was a fitting metaphor for so many things in my life.

  Six years ago, practically within weeks of our honeymoon, my husband was diagnosed with a terminal disease that slowly took him from me. No matter how many doctors and experts we consulted with, it was clear there was only one road for us to follow and there were no turn offs, no roundabouts, no U-turns, no rest areas.

  A dead end. Literally.

  The pangs of heartbreak had lessened over the two years since his passing. Sometimes I'd get through nearly an entire day and then two or three without thinking about him… and then I'd feel guilty for that. Damned if I did and damned if I didn't.

  Finally, I had had enough. Enough feeling sorry for myself. Enough being angry. Enough hiding from life.

  The itch to move on, even if by baby steps, had been building for some time, little things that seemed to be signs from beyond. Whether sent by Bret or not, I had no idea, but given the almost prank-like nature of these incidents, I wouldn't be surprised if he was entertaining himself on the other side by pulling the strings on my life.

  First, there was the monthly meeting of the local grief support group. Mostly women, nearly all of them old enough to be my mother—or grandmother—they had been kind and welcoming to me, a real godsend in those early months of widowhood when I was numb and moving through life like a zombie. However, at the most recent meeting, I glanced around the room and noticed every one of them was wearing an appliqued sweatshirt. Peeking down at myself, I realized that, although it contained no animals or holiday themes, I was still wearing a sweatshirt. I could see the path, and I didn't like it. This was a road where
I could make a turn around.

  I might not have the highest standards, but I refuse to wear an appliqued sweatshirt.

  I went home and purged anything even slightly old-lady-like from my limited wardrobe.

  Then, the following Saturday I answered a knock on the door. It was a group of kids from the church down the street. "We're taking care of widows and orphans like it says to in the Bible. We're here to clean up your yard."

  I looked up at the leader who stood at the back of the group and recognized her as a clerk at the local grocery store. She'd seen me heft my groceries around, but still thought I needed help? Was this how the people in my community saw me?

  I had become a service project.

  About the same time, Bret's old dog, Beau, died peacefully in his sleep. He was my last tie to Bret and, once he was gone, I decided it was time for me to move on as well. To where or what I had no idea, but move on I must.

  Which brought me to my current, unspecified, location.

  It had been awhile since I'd seen another car or even a building. While it felt a little Twilight Zone-y, there was also a freedom and anonymity to the seclusion as well. I rolled down the car window and filled my lungs with the clean air.

  I did a little gawking around. Was that an eagle flying over me? I stuck my head out the window to get a better view. Such beauty and grace. Mesmerized, I forgot I was actually driving a car, so when I heard a loud honk and tires screeching, it jolted me back to reality, whereupon I promptly drove my car into a ditch.

  ***

  Luke

  I'll admit I was a bit distracted that day.

  Earlier that morning, my mother had been her usual sweet and energetic self, which usually was fine with me. I could use all the good vibes I could get some days, and I love Mama. She was cheerful without being sticky sweet.