Alien Romance: Grabbed By The Alien Lord: Scifi Alien Abduction Romance (Alien Romance, Alien Invasion Romance, BBW) (Celestial Protectors Book 2)

by Aana Celestya

There were many that seemed to shrink away from him, but as soon as they cleared the gates, into the compound, the behaviour of those around them became even more pronounced in the diffidence shown the Lord Commander of the Armies.

  At the first realization that Galtan was within the premises of the Pavathi ranks were assembled. Men of all ages rushed to form perfect formations on both sides of the walkway.

  Once she and Galtan were halfway what appeared to be the primary structure in the compound, four men stepped from their positions at the front of the ranks and crowed over each other to be heard first by the powerful man whose hand firmly grasped the back of the tunic he had dressed her in.

  “My Lord Commander, there have been new uprisings in the mining districts out in the wastes,” shouted one man who was nearly as tall as Galtan, but thin as a reed in comparison.

  “Lord Commander, the Happa forces on the frontier planet, Balta, have grown by 8%. A plan needs to be laid to break down the organization.” A stocky man to Galtan’s right insisted.

  “The Happa are nothing compared to the Fylkat, there are reports of a vessel big enough to transport thousands of warriors at the edge of our territories! My Lord Commander, might you tie off your property so that the council of generals can convene on this threat?”

  A portly – and pompous, judging by his choice of flamboyant attire – man on Galtan’s left crowed. The fourth man, another whip lean figure never had a chance to shout out the most important case under his purview to Galtan.

  Amelia’s alien brought her up short as Galtan stopped and spun to face the presumptuous man that had suggested tying her off – heaven knows I do not want to know what that means…

  “Excuse me?” Galtan’s voice had taken on a particularly menacing tone as he addressed the portly man. Suddenly the offender started to sputter, but at the same time Galtan’s cloak settled, Amelia no longer hidden in its folds. There was an audible intake of breath from a number of the males present in the formations.

  Remembering Falgat’s warning, Amelia kept her gaze trained on the cobbled stones of the walkway. As Galtan awaited an explanation from the sputtering man, Amelia could hear the whispers of other warriors in the crowd.

  “It’s clothed…”

  “Did the Lord Commander finally get a breeder?”

  “Did you see the eyes?”

  “I heard a fortune was paid…”

  Finally the portly man quit trying to excuse his comments, so Galtan spun back toward the building they had been walking toward. He smoothly tucked Amelia into his side as he strode past her, dragging her along with him. Considering his pace, Amelia considered herself lucky that Falgat had had a sample pair of boots – apparently for adolescent young men – that had been her size.

  Amelia managed to keep his pace until they reached the steps leading into the spearing, blood-red structure; when she started to fall behind Galtan’s stride, he simply lifted her up the steps, holding her tight to his side.

  Galtan lowered Amelia when both of his booted feet struck the top stone step. The only man that had kept pace with Galtan was the fourth man, the whip lean man, whose eyes were icy grey. Amelia felt those eyes were dead inside, based on her glimpses from beneath her long, dark lashes.

  “My apologies, my Lord Commander, Brunka should know better than to try to make demands of you and your time.”

  “What do you want Furgen?” Galtan’s tone was still dark in its intensity, clipped like the cold ice of the other man’s eyes.

  “The One of the Blood sent a messenger to you; he is waiting in the antechamber off the Commanding offices. Would you like me to see to this slave while you see him?”

  Chapter 4…The Horrors of Rule

  Galtan felt the slight shudder of Amiilya’s body against him at Furgen’s offer. He stopped walking and she pressed tightly against his side. She was striving to remain fairly obscured beneath the cloth of his cloak – sheltered in curve of his body. Frankly, Galtan understood Amiilya’s trepidation; she had proven to have excellent instincts, and Furgen, was a man for a slave, especially female, to fear as he was a truly cruel monster.

  “No thank you, Furgen; I can manage my property on my own.”

  “As you wish sir.”

  “You said there is a messenger in the antechamber?”

  “Yes.”

  “I will deal with that first. Tell Sebal that I wish to speak with him as next regarding the miners. You can tell him that he will have a few moments to present the information, I am not in the mood to waste time today with bickering.” Galtan tightened his grip on the female at his side and started making his way toward the lift that would quickly take him and Amiilya to the uppermost floor of the Pavathi.

  “My Lord Commander, may I express my congratulations? That human looks like a prime breeder – I will let the others know to not waste your time so that you do not have to reschedule an appointment next door,” Furgen said as Galtan and Amiilya mounted the lift.

  “That would be appreciated,” Galtan responded, knowing he couldn’t deny the royal advisor’s assumptions.

  To think, I managed to get her into Pavathi without her noticing that place; I am not so naïve as to think I will manage such a feat when we leave. Damn, I had hoped to avoid that discussion for now.

  As the lift raised Amiilya and him through the levels of the building, Galtan sensed a question on his human’s lips. Galtan grasped her hand, not grasping his tunic, beneath the folds of fabric and gently squeezed.

  “Ssss, Alahi. One cannot trust the walls to be deaf in this place. I made you a promise; I will answer your questions when I have you someplace safe, specifically within the walls of my home.” Galtan felt Amiilya’s answering nod against his arm.

  The lift stopped; they had reached the Command chambers – his haven and seat of power, though never had Galtan found reassurance within the rooms. Bringing Amiilya with him, he strode to the exterior doors of the antechamber, not even bothering with the illusion of coming from the private office.

  When he swung the door wide, Galtan found the royal messenger waiting. He stood at the door to the balcony – the passage open so that the messenger could have an un-obscured view of the great metropolis.

  The man heard the doors open and turned away from the view to face the most powerful man on Amirak-Ren that was not Of the Blood – or, in other words, royalty.

  “Lord Commander,” as all royal messengers, the man had a perfectly cultured, clear cadence to his voice. He stood straight, preparing to deliver the message from the One of the Blood, the high monarch, but was distracted when Galtan drew Amiilya from beneath the folds of his cloak and gestured her to the chair that sat in the corner of the room.

  Galtan knew that it would be considered an unusual sight, a female, clothed, in the Command chambers, but Galtan also knew that the messenger knew better than to question her presence.

  “I have been dispatched to inform you of The One’s pleasure in your handling of the collectors’ most recent and wholly unreasonable demands for military backing and escorts in their endeavours. That said, there is a desire for you to arrange expanded storage facilities for the incoming wares. Many have suggested that after the scene made, night before last, the incoming slaves need to be more carefully detained before they are taken to auction.” Galtan mentally counted to three, before responding, making sure that the relayed message was completed.

  “You may inform The One that I will see to the arrangements.”

  *

  After meeting with the messenger, Galtan moved Amelia and himself into an adjoining room that proved to be an office. A large desk, sculpted from gleaming metal and sparkling black crystal was set before a large bay of translucent windows. There was a low, thickly cushioned bench set against the thinned crystal; Galtan directed Amelia to the bench before a variable whirlwind of meetings commenced.

  After the seventh, and what was quite possibly the last meeting of the day – judging by the way Galtan seemed to collapse bac
k in his large chair – Galtan stood and came to crouch down beside the bench Amelia lounged on.

  “You look comfortable,” Galtan said softly, as he grasped one dark curling lock of her hair, rubbing the fine strands between his thumb and forefinger. Amelia stretched; her arms above her head, her toes pointed in the low boots on her feet.

  It’s not as if the man hasn’t seen me naked, Amelia considered as she realized Galtan was staring down at her. In the time it took to blink, Amelia found the large male lifting her legs from the cushions, and straddling the bench. Galtan then hooked her legs over his thighs, spreading her own. Amelia wasn’t naïve, and assumed sex would be expected, but the venue of his office surprised her.

  Well, yes – I did in fact lose my virginity in a stratocracy’s autocrat’s office.

  “I find I desire you Alahi. However, I want to take my time with you, time I do not have here.” Amelia bit lightly on her inner cheeks – if she had a nervous tick that was it.

  Ok, not losing virginity in an autocrat’s office.

  Galtan leaned over her prone body and set his brow against hers, the gesture seemed familiar though Amelia wasn’t sure why. Unused to a man being so close, her lashes lowered, shuttering her blue eyes and fanning across her flushed cheeks.

  Her alien braced his arms over her head, catching her wrists in his hands before she could pull her arms back to her sides.

  Galtan nuzzled his mouth against the sensitive flesh that lay beneath her ear. Considering Amelia had never been the recipient of an intimate gesture, even one so pedestrian as a man’s mouth on her neck – no man had ever been appealing enough to allow him to touch her – the caress of his lips was particularly erotic. She shifted against him, an inarticulate murmur escaping her lips.

  “Do you like that Alahi?” Galtan parted his lips against her skin and slipped his tongue between them to dance across her flesh.

  He adjusted his hands, so that he held both of her wrists, gently against the cushions, with only one hand. His free hand drifted down, tracing her arm, squeezing her shoulder.

  Though she could easily determine the destination of the path Galtan’s hand was taking, it was no less shocking when his hand slipped beneath the fabric of the deeply slitted, shimmering tunic to firmly palm her bare breast.

  *

  Amiilya whimpered as he touched her, but she didn’t fight the caress; instead, she arched into it. Taking the response as a positive one, Galtan released her wrists and focused his manual attentions on the full mounds and female body that he had kept for himself – away from prying eyes of men who while weaker than himself were more predatory and cruel.

  His lips drifted from beneath the tender lobe of her ear to the curve of her cheek. Galtan knew that humans had this intimate act called a kiss that involved putting one’s lips to a partner’s – tasting each other.

  The act was considered a precursor to mating. As such an act bespoke affection, it was not practiced on Amirak-Ren, but Galtan wished to experiment with Amiilya.

  Galtan moved his lips to hover over Amiilya’s, her panting breath escaping her to puff, hot, on his mouth. Slowly, he lowered his head, his lips brushing against hers. Apparently, there was more. Amiilya’s arms were suddenly wound around his neck, tugging him closer.

  His human’s lips parted beneath his; driven by instinct, Galtan parted his own and his tongue stroked into her mouth. Amiilya’s tongue twined, flicked, and thrust with his in an intricate dance.

  Galtan found the kiss to be particularly enjoyable, and while he wished he could continue the exercise with Amiilya, he knew they needed to leave soon. If they didn’t, there would doubtless be another barrage of meetings, which Galtan would just as soon avoid.

  *

  Galtan drew away from her and the kiss slowly, reluctantly. He sucked at Amelia’s lips, carefully catching her lower lip between his teeth. Eventually, he lifted his body away from hers and sat up straight in his position, straddling the bench.

  His gaze slid the length of her body, and stopped on the bare skin above her thighs – the tunic she wore had rucked up, exposing the lewdly posed feminine flesh.

  Driven by years of modesty, Amelia automatically reached to tug the tunic down between her splayed thighs. Galtan caught her hand, stopping her. Watching her face, he laid his hand over her mound and squeezed, lightly; palming the sensitive part the same way he had fondled her breasts.

  Amelia could feel her face flushing with a mix of both mortification and lust. He pressed and rubbed, Amelia could feel her clitoris chaffing between the damp lips guarding her nether regions.

  When a heated groan escaped her, Galtan pulled his hand away, unhooked her knees from his thighs and tugged the fabric of the tunic to cover her damp sex. As she lay on the cushions, willing her breathing to steady, Galtan stood and donned the cloak he had stripped off hours before, when they had first entered his office.

  “We need to leave Alahi, before more issues arise and I am trapped here the rest of the day.” As he spoke, Galtan took Amelia’s hands and pulled her up from the bench. Her body was still sensitive as he pulled her into the shelter of his body and walked from his office, heading for the lift.

  *

  Their exit from the compound was significantly less eventful than their entrance. However, now that she wasn’t distracted by the pomp and military circumstance, Amelia noticed a facility just outside the large metal gates into the Pavathi, as Galtan and Falgat had referred to the compound.

  There were a number of males with their slaves. The women in front of the building seemed to be in the best condition of any that Amelia had seen thus far on the planet; however, there was something odd about every one of them. All of the women had dead eyes; and all of them appeared to be pregnant.

  As she stared, a male with distinct cruelty set to his features emerged from the building, dragging a woman behind him by a collar and lead. The woman was terribly battered, and Amelia could tell by the woman’s vacant gaze that she was dead inside.

  “Useless. Absolutely useless,” the male dragging the woman ranted. Another male standing to the side of the walkway called out to the angry one.

  “Another failure?”

  “Yes, that makes three. Three failed breedings. I should have that hole sealed if it is not going to be of use to me!” The angry male turned, swung and grabbed the woman by what was left of her hair to scream in her face…

  Galtan didn’t linger so that Amelia could hear what horrible profanities the male was screaming into the face of an obviously abused slave; instead, he lifted Amelia off the ground beneath the shield of his cloak and carried her away from the scene.

  *

  Disgusted, that was the only way to describe Galtan’s disposition as he carried Amiilya away from the horrors many of his race inflicted on the females of theirs. When they were halfway back to the spire that he called home, Galtan set the human tucked against him back on her feet and slowed his strides to match an easy pace for her shorter legs.

  His human said nothing as they trekked through the streets. He would have been unconcerned with her silence if she had been peering around the metropolis; instead she seemed to trudge, withdrawn into her own thoughts.

  Galtan guided Amelia’s path down the walkways and around the corners, his arm wrapped around her body beneath the shielding folds of his cloak.

  *

  Galtan kept his arm around her body, holding her close as they navigated the streets. She recognized the markings on the gate they approached, the Gordian knot, they had returned to Galtan’s home. Amelia waited as he unsecured the gate, and the metal slid aside into the crystal wall.

  Amelia stepped away from the protective shadow of Galtan’s body into the relative safety of the courtyard. She wandered ahead as he stopped, just inside the courtyard, to secure the gate, but something caught her eye.

  It was the strangest creature that Amelia had ever seen. The petit bundle of fur was ambling, awkwardly along the side of the wall, stopping
here and there to sniff at a crystal shard. Honestly, the closest comparison Amelia had for the small beast was a mutant, six-legged lynx. Amelia sensed Galtan approaching from behind her.

  “What is it Alahi?” He asked as he came closer. However, as soon as he saw the small animal, Galtan laughed. He stepped around her and caught the animal, only to turn and hand it off to her. Amelia held the animal in her cupped palms, staring down at the little ball of downy fuzz.

  “I told you, you had no comparison for the word haltha. Well, Alahi, now you know what a haltha is – an infant one, at least.” Galtan used a single finger to stroke the animal’s soft fur between its ears. “Bring it in Amelia, it is probably just weaned.”

  “You keep them as pets,” Amelia asked as she followed Galtan up the steps.

  “Rarely, haltha get much, much bigger and they are very wild. One has to have the infant from the moment they are weaned in order to build a bond – perhaps you are lucky Alahi.”

  Amelia held the baby animal to her chest. The infant haltha buried between her breasts, climbing into her tunic and settling its fuzzy body in the small pocket of fabric between the neckline and the rope belt.

  Once settled, the creature started to purr, humming like a well-tuned shuttle. Within the quite of Galtan’s home, the haltha’s contentment could be heard and Galtan starred at Amelia and the bulging, soft mound of happy kitten between her breasts.

  Galtan shook his head, an amused smile quirking his lips, as he turned away to walk down a short hallway and turned through a doorway. Amelia followed him, and found herself in a kitchen.

  “You must be hungry Alahi.”

  “Yes, but I want to ask a couple of questions.” Amelia watched as Galtan coaxed a fire to life in a raised trough, before he turned and opened what appeared to be a cold larder.

  “Ask your questions Alahi.”

  “Well, firstly, why do you call me that when you know my name?”