His Human Mate (Captives of the Dominars Book 3)

by Stella Rising

  Is it possible a creature like Tamrys could actually like me? I might be kind of a big deal among humans, but aren’t the Dominars supposed to be hundreds or thousands of years old? What could he see in someone like me?

  He did say he’s interested in mortals…

  It’s a thought I’ll have to return to later, because Tamrys wastes no time after breaking from our kiss: he pulls off the jacket of his uniform and flings it across the room. Underneath he has on a form-fitting undershirt that clings to his breathtaking chest; in seconds he yanks it off, revealing the six-pack beneath. Tracing my hands over his turquoise skin, his body feels hot to the touch and hard as iron.

  Breathing deep as my heart beats loud as a drum, I stand up on the desk and pull my dress off over my head. Tamrys swings his legs up and rises to his feet, then mentally releases the buttons on his pants, allowing them to slip off. A black undergarment strains against his erect member, so Tamrys finishes stripping, revealing his immaculate physique.

  Oh, fuck.

  His cock looks like it could split me in half, massive in both length and girth. I shiver, imagining every inch of his shaft sinking into my sodden orifice.

  “Lie down,” says Tamrys after we’ve stared at each other long enough.

  I comply immediately, ignoring the twinges from my ass as the plug jostles.

  “Open,” he adds, lightly slapping my inner thighs. I swing my legs out wide, and stretch out my arms too, though he didn’t ask me to. How many women have been sprawled out completely naked on this desk? I may not be the first, but I’m sure I’m entering some interesting company.

  I guess being the lover of a Dominar consul has its perks.

  Tamrys lowers himself on top, straddling me and pinning my wrists against the desk. Under his massive frame, I feel tiny, trapped, and helpless.

  He leans down and kisses my breast, sucking on the nipple. A rush of pleasure sweeps in like a squall and makes my whole body tremble. Sweat beads on my forehead as he switches to my other breast, giving it the same loving attention.

  “Oh, my God, don’t stop,” I groan, looking down at his copper hair and wanting to run my hands through it. I try breaking out of Tamrys’s grip a few times, but he’s holding me firmly; the effort isn’t wasted though—I can feel his cock throbbing against my pelvis. He grunts, then suddenly rears up, grabs my shoulders, and spins me onto my stomach.

  His hands trace their way down my back, stopping at my ass. He squeezes my cheeks and pats them softly. “You’ve had that plug in a long time, pet. Do you want me to take it out?”

  “Whatever you desire, sir,” I reply, too horny to care. My pussy clenches at nothing, wanting to be filled, aching for sweet release.

  “Good answer,” he says, kissing my neck. He pulls the plug out a little, stretching my hole, then lets it sink back in. I let out a gasp of bliss as the plug settles into place. “Sounds like you want it to stay in.”

  Fuck, he’s right.

  Mortified, I blush at the horrible realization. I’d like to think that I was just reacting to the sting of the penetration, or that I’d grown accustomed to having the plug inside—but when it slid back in, I felt relief.

  It’s a matter I’ll have to think about later though, because Tamrys begins to slip his cock into my hungry hole. He feels impossibly large, just as I expected. Like with the butt plug, he gives me time to adjust with each inch, pulling out and driving back in as my swollen pussy grips down hard.

  “Oh, wow, you’re tight, Sabine,” he groans, giving me a solid thrust.

  “You’re—oh, fucking God—so big,” I reply, my brain scrambling, overwhelmed by the euphoric sensations. Tamrys’s cock presses against the plug from inside me, an intoxicating pleasure I never could have imagined.

  When he starts pounding, filling me completely with each thrust, everything else in the world fades into the background. I forget where I am, and what has happened in the past months—all that exists is Tamrys, me, and the incredible ecstasy we’re creating together. Outside there’s a world in upheaval, and I have no idea what will become of my life from one moment to the next, but right now I’m in heaven.

  Even when Tamrys begins to smack my ass in between each thrust, the pain only feeds my growing orgasm. He swats my cheeks, switching from one to the next, while using his other hand to rub and flick my clit.

  “Sabine, are you forgetting the rules?”

  Rules?

  Snapping back to reality, I search my mind for what he could be talking about, but it’s hard when I’m so close to—

  Oh.

  “Please, sir, can I come?” I ask, figuring it out.

  Causing me immediate distress, he slows his thrusting. “I don’t know if I should let you, pet. Convince me.”

  “Please,” I moan. “What do you… what can I do…”

  Tamrys descends on top of me and whispers into my ear, “Say you belong to me, that I am your master now.”

  Oh, fuck. “I belong to… to you, sir,” I mumble, shocked at what I’m becoming for the sake of carnal release. “You are my master now.”

  Tamrys accelerates his rhythm again, but not all the way. “Say that I own you, that you need my big alien cock.”

  Tears wet my cheeks as pleasure surges through my whole body. He feels so thick and rigid, as though his virility is growing with my words.

  “You own me, sir. I need… I need your big alien cock,” I murmur.

  “Louder, pet.”

  “You own me! I need your big alien cock!”

  Tamrys gives my ass a firm smack, then starts hammering at full speed. “Sabine, you have… permission… to come,” he grunts.

  In a flash, the pressure I’d been holding back bursts, and my orgasm erupts. Hot rapture envelops me, lifts me to subspace, and I lose perception of everything but Tamrys. His seed flows into me as he reaches his zenith, but he keeps going, rubbing my clit and massaging my breast until my deafening howls fill the room. My body quakes until every drop of strength is used to power my orgasm, and then I’m gone.

  * * *

  When I regain my senses, Tamrys is dressed, staring out the window to the rose garden.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, my voice raspy with thirst. There’s a sound coming from outside, a din I’m all too familiar with.

  “Protesters,” he replies, letting the curtain fall back into place. “Thousands of them. They’re not happy about Weatherly.”

  Getting up, I spot my gown and start to reach for it. However, I stop myself—what if I don’t have permission?

  Rankled by the fact that I’m questioning whether I’m allowed to do something so basic, I mentally scold myself. How could I act this way, just because the sex is good? Am I that depraved?

  “Is it a problem?” I ask.

  “No, this was expected. A transition of power like this was bound to ruffle some feathers. It’ll be fine.”

  I nod, a ball of ice forming in my gut. What if he’s wrong about humanity, and things won’t be fine? Is it wrong to be serving him?

  What if I’ve made a terrible mistake?

  Chapter Eight

  Sabine

  Once I’ve had a chance to eat, drink, and rest a little longer, Tamrys and I catch a shuttle back to the Spire. I watch the thousands gathered outside the White House until our ship soars away from it all.

  “What’s wrong, Sabine?” Tamrys asks, rubbing my shoulder. Concern etches dark lines in his turquoise skin, though his eyes hone in on mine, unwavering. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

  For the sake of the whole world, I hope he means that.

  “Those people were pissed,” I say. “What makes you think they’ll come around?”

  Tamrys sighs. “The results. We’ve only just begun to make the world a better place. In time, when people see the peace and stability we’re creating around the world, most will accept our rule.”

  I snort, I can’t help it. “Humans have a history of invasion and colonization; things don�
�t usually turn out so well for the conquered.”

  Nodding, Tamrys leans back in his seat. “Then it’s a good thing we’re not colonists. Taking Earth away from humanity is not our goal.”

  “But you would resort to it, wouldn’t you?”

  A mild grin curls his lips. “You’re very sharp, Sabine. Yes, it’s an option, but only in the direst of circumstances. You have my word, I will do everything in my power to make sure Earth stays humanity’s home.”

  I take his outstretched hand and feel his powerful grip. “Thank you,” I say, a warmth spreading out through my chest. “I feel better.”

  I’ve spoken to politicians and delegates, prime ministers and dictators; I’ve conversed with two-faced liars from dozens of nations and in most major languages—honesty has a quality to it that needs no translation. Tamrys means what he says, and that gives me comfort. I only hope he hasn’t misjudged humanity.

  He wouldn’t be the first.

  * * *

  “I need to get to work,” Tamrys tells me when we reach my room at the top of the Spire. “Executive consul to a recently conquered world isn’t a job for the idle, so I expect I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Of course,” I say. In truth, I could use a little time alone to decompress and process the last few days.

  “You’ll be able to use your nanites if you need anything, of course,” he says, massaging my shoulders.

  “Thank you,” I groan, enjoying the feel of his strong hands kneading my muscles. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

  Tamrys chuckles. “Oh, I know. I’m going to make sure you don’t get into any trouble.”

  My eyes shoot open as I realize what he no doubt means. “Please, I’m not going to do anything. I’ll be good, I promise.”

  “I believe you,” Tamrys says, opening the armoire. “But you need to prove your obedience before I grant you further privileges. Trust goes both ways, of course.”

  Sighing, I sit down on the bed and watch as he retrieves big bundles of tan rope.

  “Really, rope? What happened to those floating ring things?”

  I whimper as Tamrys pulls my dress off over my head, rendering me nude once again. He then takes my hands and sets my arms behind my back. “Telerings are very effective, but they lack style. Rope is as beautiful as it is useful; as far as primitive inventions go, it’s one of my favorites.”

  Looking up at the ceiling, I try to suppress my frustration as he binds me. He starts with my arms, bending and locking them into a square shape behind my back. Winding the rope around my body, he creates a harness around my arms and chest. The rope feels smooth but tight against my skin, particularly between my breasts and along my waist.

  He doesn’t stop there, however: while I wait patiently and grunt with each tightening rope, he winds a few lengths around my hips, forming a kind of belt. He then weaves the rope down my waist, up between my legs, and through my rear. When he’s finished, the rope is lodged securely against my clit, making every movement a new source of stimulation.

  “Try to get out,” Tamrys says, admiring his handiwork.

  “I can’t.”

  “Try anyway.”

  Huffing, I try to break out my arms, but the ropes are too well-tied. There’s just enough give in the rope for me to struggle against them, but not enough that I can actually loosen them. My hands can swing back and forth, but with them fastened in place behind my back, there’s little I can do with them.

  “I told you, I can’t get out.”

  “Okay, okay,” Tamrys laughs. “That’s what I wanted to see. Now, be good for me, okay? You know what that means.”

  Sighing, I reply, “If I misbehave, you’ll come back and gag me.”

  “Correct. And I might not stop there.” Crouching down on one knee, he asks, “Can I get a kiss goodbye?”

  Somehow I manage not to roll my eyes as I approach him and kiss his cheek. Chuckling, he kisses mine, then gets up to go. I watch him until the door shuts.

  Well, this is fantastic, I think to myself, sitting down on the bed. What am I supposed to do now?

  Tamrys left the door to the armoire open, perhaps as a reminder of all the ways he can punish me if I’m bad… or reward me if I’m good. I get up and look at the toys, imagining the way they’d all feel: the plugs of various shapes and sizes, restraints of different materials, floggers and whips in every length and thickness imaginable…

  Damnit, Sabine, stop!

  Thinking about it all has gotten me wet again, and I’ve unconsciously been grinding my hips to give myself some relief. I stop myself for one reason: I don’t have permission to come. Tamrys didn’t state it explicitly before he left, but I have to imagine it was implied.

  It’s always implied, for that matter.

  Biting my lip, I stare at the toys until I build up the resolve to turn around. I’m still tempted to look, though, so I take a few steps away. Then I keep going, and soon I’m walking around the room in circles. I haven’t had a chance to hit the gym the last few days—a little walking would be good for me. Since I’m not locked in place, this is a good opportunity to stay active.

  Of course, the movement only exacerbates the pulses of need emanating from between my legs. Now I’m beginning to realize how cruel that little rope is—there’s nothing I can do to get rid of it, and it’s going to drive me crazy.

  Figuring I should take a minute to settle down, I trundle up to one of the long windows and stare out at the world below. Boats have resumed sailing down the bay, charting courses around the Spire. Watching them go by is peaceful, but a little boring.

  As I try to figure out how to pass the time, I can’t help feeling a little like a princess locked in a tower. Except, no knight in shining armor is coming to rescue me from the dragon. That’s a different fairy tale.

  Then again, my dragon’s not so bad and maybe I don’t really need saving.

  * * *

  It occurs to me that I’ve got nanites—maybe there’s something I can do with them.

  Food, I try, feeling my stomach rumble. Sure enough, a panel in the floor opens up, and a table rises with a bowl of fruit salad.

  Neat!

  However, I realize I haven’t thought this whole situation through: there’s no way for me to pick up the pieces—either with my hand or a utensil. The only option I can see is leaning over the bowl and eating out of it.

  Like a pet.

  Staring at the juicy chunks of watermelon, cantaloupe, and strawberry, my stomach gurgles some more.

  If there’s no one around to see…

  Sighing, I bend over and bite into a piece of melon; it’s delicious, but I feel like an idiot. When I go back for another piece, I bump the bowl, nearly knocking it off the table. I have to circle around to nudge it back the other way with my chin. Once I do, I lean down again, going after the same strawberry, only to push down on the bowl’s edge, nearly spilling all the fruit.

  My cheeks flush, imagining how hard Tamrys would laugh if he saw.

  Okay, that’s it. I’m done, I tell the nanites. In seconds, the table and bowl descend back into the floor.

  Needing something else to do, I ask the nanites for television, and like magic, a holographic screen appears. I tell it to turn on the news channel I want, finding a discussion of Weatherly’s expulsion from office.

  “It shouldn’t come as a surprise to us that he left without a fight,” says one of the pundits. “He’s never been afraid to lose a battle to win the war.”

  “Please,” snorts the show’s host. “He’s been a weak president. His term has been marked by ineffectiveness and scandal. It’s no wonder the aliens chose to unseat him first.”

  “What you’re both forgetting is he didn’t have a choice,” cuts in a third. “No one does. When the aliens say go, you go. That’s what they expect.”

  Amen to that.

  The shot cuts to video clips of Weatherly boarding a private jet—not even Air Force One, which has been permanently grounded as a mil
itary craft. The headline under the clip reads, ‘The last president?’

  I find myself nodding, imagining what I would say to the public. Talk shows have had me as a guest plenty of times in my career—it’s a necessary aspect of my job. But if Tamrys had never taken me as his, what would I believe about the Dominars? Whose side would I be on?

  I’d like to think I’d approve of the Dominars, though I’d be cautious. For sure, I would still be trying to find an in with them—then again, I might not, if I knew it would involve being naked and tied up most of the time…

  Flipping to another channel, I hear more of the same: “They started with Weatherly first to send a message. Start at the top, work your way down—they shouldn’t meet with much resistance, considering what we saw here today.”

  Another station shows telescopic footage of the Dominar ships in orbit, including Bountiful Harvest, a vessel so large it deserves to be called a space station. The camera zooms in on what looks to be a docking bay with dozens of ships departing, one after the next, and heading for Earth.

  More Dominars like the consuls, I assume. In other words: the invasion.

  After a few more channels, I see something I don’t expect: me.

  “Seen sitting next to Executive Consul Tamrys is Sabine Marchessault, one of the many U.N. diplomats whose positions were terminated by Consul Tamrys days earlier. Though she was present for Weatherly’s firing, she didn’t speak on camera, and so her involvement with the Dominars is currently unknown,” explains Gina Bamford, a host I’ve been fond of for a few years. “What do you think, Vic?”

  “At this point, it’s really hard to say,” replies Victor Aybar, Gina’s co-host. Shrewd, compassionate, and worldly, he’s always been gracious to me. “Maybe he’s taken her on in an advisory capacity, to give him some perspective on Earth. At least, I hope that’s the case.”

  “You don’t think she recommended removing Weatherly in public like that, do you?”

  “No, no way.” Aybar shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “She’s been advocating for peace her whole career. Removing an elected leader from office would seem to run counter to this goal, at least until we know what Dominar rule will be like. Unless she has knowledge we don’t, I’m guessing that was Consul Tamrys’s doing.”