Alien Alphas: Twenty-Three Naughty Sci-Fi Romance Novellas

by Grace Goodwin

  “Huh. Then let me go. Good Samaritan points galore.”

  “What’re those?” He shook his head, lifted a finger off the wheel to point. “You, out there? By yourself? No. I’ll find you a good man.”

  “Fuck you,” she muttered.

  He reached over and grabbed her ass, squeezed until she squealed. “No cursing me. Not unless you want punishment.”

  Her gaze was almost lethal. The shirt she wore had crept up above her navel, revealing her stomach. Licking that...

  He looked away, annoyed. He needed to negotiate the irregular ground and shouldn’t be looking at her... his purchase. He’d deal with her anger if it became a problem but, if anything was a problem it was her rear end.

  Boda got that part right.

  Once he’d navigated his way out of the danger area, he placed his hand on her again, and casually stroked the skin where marks from his pinching showed. He’d never owned a slave. The reality of having her lying there beside him in only a bunched-up shirt, with her legs together but showing off her slit, it was causing problems—a hard-on that likely wouldn’t go away for days.

  She muttered something.

  “What’d you say?”

  “You never killed anyone. None of those dicks back there.”

  “No. Not my way. They were scared enough to bargain. Got what I wanted.”

  “Scared?”

  “I’m big. I shoot straight. I’ve killed when I had to. A reputation’s worth a lot of bullets.”

  She fell silent and he wondered what she was thinking, but wasn’t ready to ask. So he told her things instead.

  “I heard humans are from another world. The Mekkers brought you here using some new science, which is why you all have bright hair and nails?” She still said nothing. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m... Blue.”

  “A color? Like your hair?”

  “Yes, a color. I didn’t plan on matching hair to name.”

  “Okay. Well, Blue, my name is Sassik.”

  He took a second to correct the steering as they went over the ridge at the edge of an ancient road. Now he knew where he was. There weren’t many roads. This one was mostly made of holes but it led to Peko. There was a leathersmith in Peko.

  “One thing you need to remember, here in Scav and grounder lands, humans stand out. They end up owned because you have attributes that are valued.”

  Cock-exploding ones. His own swelled at the idea of burying itself in her. Damn thing.

  Blue grunted, seeming to stare under the dash. Not good news for her, though he’d said a truth.

  “I’m the good side. Boda and company are average. There’s worse you could end up with, if you were loose.”

  “You think I’m your slave?” she said dully.

  “Until I find you a new owner. You aren’t free here, and can’t be.”

  “The Mekkers messed up my languages. Sometimes I can’t tell what’s a word from here and what’s one from home. Like curse words. I hear fuck in English but it’s also that in the words here, which can’t be right. Anyway, there’s a whole lot of those words I’d like to use right now.”

  But she didn’t say any.

  Sassik grinned at how she’d expressed her frustration without actually cursing. He understood. If he were her, yeah, same sentiment. He stopped the truck, shrugged off his jacket, took a last long peek at her and sighed. Then he laid the jacket over her rear end.

  “Thank you.”

  He steered back onto the road. “Wasn’t for your sake. Was for mine.”

  He preferred his fucks a little less snarly, but he was a man. With that cunt staring at him for miles, he’d go crazy and do something he didn’t want to... sort of.

  They hit Peko late that day and he used some of his coin to buy her panties then visited the leathersmith. The shop was quiet apart from a lean young man in gray pants and long-sleeved shirt, who studied them both a little too much as the door banged shut behind Sassik.

  He had Blue in only her shirt, with her hands roped at the front, which was admittedly leaving her bottom partly poking out at the rear. Some slaves wore less. Maybe it was that petulant if cute pair of pretty lips that’d attracted him? They stuck out and looked fairly kissable, even with her death glare.

  “You okay there, sir?”

  The man in gray shrugged and went back to handling an animal harness. The walls were hung with plentiful merchandise.

  He picked out a leash, a red collar, cuffs, and a slave harness, in case he needed to restrain her. The gods knew it was likely with her attitude. A physician would need to be found to remove her Mekker collar. Then he chose a red-and-black skirt that’d just cover her ass and a matching bandeau top.

  That he was near salivating at the thought of her dressed in these boded poorly for when he sold her.

  Such was life. He handed her the clothes.

  “Get dressed.” He untied her hands and strapped on the wrist cuffs then the ankle ones. Going to one knee to do that put him on a level with her most intimate and naked anatomy. The little wedge of hair leading down drew his eye.

  “Damn, I’m tempted to take you outside and lick you all over.”

  From her intake of breath and stare, she took that as a threat. He wasn’t inclined to clear up the misconception.

  She cleared her throat. “Your hand is on my thigh.”

  “Yes.”

  “Where do I get changed?”

  “Here.”

  “I’m used to privacy.”

  The red flush creeping over her face amused him. He moved his hand over her leg, sliding his palm over her skin as it left where it wanted to be. He exhaled slowly, feeling the fire build in his blood. Even touching her was near orgasmic.

  Having her sit on him might blow more than his cock. His chasteness was no longer an issue, it was the wrongness he felt whenever he considered simply taking her—which was not normal.

  “I need to teach you how to refer to me. Sassik will do. Use it regularly. I’m used to privacy, Sassik. Respect, girl.” He stood, waited.

  “Oh. Um.” Her blush reached the deepest shade. “I’m used to privacy, Sassik.”

  “Good.”

  What was the man’s name? “Lator! Where she can change without us watching?”

  “Out back. Stockroom?” The leathersmith grinned. “You sure she can’t do it here? Slave, right?”

  The man had a point. Sassik shook off his doubts and indicated the door. “Go. Be quick.”

  She scampered through the door and closed it.

  “I heard you Scavs attacked a swathe of landships?”

  Sassik eyed the craftsman. It was news already. “Yes. Osta led us. He’s gone.”

  “You didn’t win, did you? There’ll be a cost. The Mekkers will make someone pay.”

  “We didn’t lose either. The swathe ships never change route. Not since the war. Hundreds of years, it’s been. They mine as they go, they trade, they keep inside their ships, unless they decide you’re worth killing. If you’re off their path, you’re fine.”

  The gray-dressed man spoke up. “You never know what may change. The future is mutable.”

  An odd comment. Sassik only grunted. Lator looked worried.

  He occupied himself paying then perusing wares, until the gray-clad stranger walked closer and said, “She’s escaping. Heard the window open and her jump down.”

  Perplexed, Sassik hesitated. “You couldn’t have.”

  The man shrugged.

  He raised his voice. “Is there a window, sir? One she might squeeze through?”

  “I... guess it is possible?” The leathersmith sounded contrite, already.

  “Fuck.” He snatched up Leassa and sprinted outside.

  He found Blue in the dead-end alley behind the shop.

  “Going somewhere?” He let Leassa hang loose.

  She backed against the old wall. Cornered, with her cute mouth downturned. The fevered movement of her breasts made the twisted leather top look
like it’d burst her tits out of there any second. Hypnotizing.

  Three yards high, that wall, so he didn’t expect her to jump. She did. And made it to the top. If it wasn’t for his fingers snagging the ankle cuff, she’d have climbed over.

  He dragged her back down, caught her as she fell. Despite her frantic attempt to struggle loose, he brought her cuffs behind her back and clicked them together. Then he shoved her to the wall, caged her with his arms planted either side of her, and glowered... a nice annoyed monster from the depths glower.

  “Did you not hear anything I said to you?”

  “Ummm.”

  How did she make ummm so sexy?

  “You didn’t hear?” He towed her to where boxes were stacked at various heights, sat on one, and pulled her belly down over his knee.

  The first smack hit leather skirt and that was obviously not effective. He flipped up the skirt, rolled the panties down a tad, swallowed his awe, and proceeded to deliver ten hard smacks to her ass. Her yelps were pleasing, as was the redness on those previously smooth and pristine cheeks.

  Sassik paused. He shouldn’t be breathless. This shouldn’t be such hard work.

  But...

  Those red panties. That fresh line of darkness on the cloth. She was wetting through the crotch. He thought about all the things he could do with Blue over his lap and her hands tied.

  “How’re you doing down there?”

  Her fingers opened, clenched. Her blue hair swished on the paving and his pants as she turned her head.

  Silence reigned, but he could hear her breathing, slow but ragged, as if she were holding her response in tight.

  He placed his hand between her legs and traced the wet line on the panties, up and down, pressing in with his forefinger. “What’s this? Is your lesson learned?”

  Chapter Three

  Lesson learned.

  Blue was aware of precisely what he was hinting. With his fingers drifting where they were, how could she not be? Wanting to wriggle against his hold was bad enough, but she’d melted, in the most embarrassing way.

  My god, the man had a stare and a half. Those two muscular arms on the wall, to either side of her, while he’d lectured. She was an independently happy and functioning woman at home. He’d turned her over his knee—intolerable.

  “Now I know why I gave you red panties,” Sassik murmured, digging that finger deeper into the cloth, where her pussy gave way and became an entrance he could fuck... if he’d just shift aside the cloth.

  Not moving, not breathing, or rather not panting, was essential.

  Whimpering too, was surely a giveaway as to her arousal.

  He smacked her again, three times, harder than before. The impact of his big palm reverberated into her flesh.

  She groaned, bit it back. Being turned on by a spanking was terrifying. This wasn’t her. She hated the thought of this, of male dominance, of being spanked.

  Then she felt the hardness of his cock against her hip.

  Head down, mouth open, wrists trapped, and her head pounding from the rush of blood, Blue struggled with stoical and threw it away, settled for not begging to be fucked.

  He rolled the cloth of her panties into the cleft of her ass, squeezed one side of her ass then the other, hard enough to make her wince, stretching her pussy.

  Ohmigod.

  His sound of admiration made her heart flutter. Get a grip. Anything except get...

  “Wet? Hmmm. Why is that, Blue?”

  “Don’t know.” But she gasped as he thrust again with that finger. With the cloth under tension, everything pushed on her clit—every shift of his thigh muscles, of his finger, when she moved or breathed.

  Her first pant escaped her, followed by another, then a groan as his finger delved deeper, still with the cloth between him and her. Sensations sizzled through her, spiking her nipples, making her want. The leather of the wraparound top rubbed on the tips of her breasts.

  “Pretty cunt,” he murmured.

  She squirmed, half trying to get away, half not.

  “Stop. Please.”

  He patted between her legs. “Guess that didn’t hurt enough. It was supposed to be punishment. You can get up.”

  That he knew how the spanking had affected her—it was awful. She blushed even hotter when he steadied her, for she’d wobbled as she stood. His hands on her hips were close to a statement of possession.

  Liking that was wrong.

  “Don’t run again. It won’t do you any good and someone will hurt you a lot more than me, if you succeed. Say you won’t run. Now.”

  But she couldn’t. He could force her to say it but she wouldn’t mean it. “Can’t,” she said softly.

  His fingers tapped on her hips. “Why?”

  “I want freedom.” Her eyes smarted with unshed tears. Her vision blurred. Damn. Then a tear or two escaped.

  “How’s this then,” he said, more gently than she expected. “I’ll let you choose your owner.”

  “What?” She frowned.

  “You can pick the man who buys you. No matter what he offers.”

  Was that a good thing? She didn’t want to be owned at all.

  Blue twisted her mouth.

  “Deal?”

  “Deal,” she said, not really meaning that either.

  Anything to get his hands off her hips.

  He smoothed the back of the skirt over her bottom and she had to brace herself so she didn’t lean toward his mouth. His hands were a weapon. In those fleeting seconds, she desperately wanted him to do something dirty to her.

  But the leathermaker came out and delivered the goods Sassik had bought, as well as profuse apologies.

  Her moment of weakness dwindled. Sassik was an asshole, of course.

  When he told her to raise her chin, she felt him attach a leash. Though she tried not to meet his eyes, she finally succumbed. He had gorgeous eyes, for a man of despicable morals.

  He wrapped his fingers under her jaw to hold her still. “When I find a good physician, I’ll change this collar for my red one. Unless I sell you first.”

  She grunted.

  “Was that a yes?”

  “Yes, Sassik.” Then she followed him from the alley, obedient, if despairing. Her ass ached dully, reminding her of what he’d done.

  His words had made her feel lost.

  Chapter Four

  From then on, Sassik fastened her by one cuff to the door. Seemed he didn’t trust her not to leap out of the truck. He said he didn’t want money and he wasn’t trying to fuck her. Yet the intensity when he looked at her made Blue uncomfortable.

  A few nights after Peko, they stopped at a camping area where Sassik hoped to trade the big truck for a smaller one. Fires blazed. Headlights dipped and flared across the campgrounds as vehicles drove in. There were strange, blue standing lights.

  “Those are waik powered,” Sassik explained. “Waik crystals power many things, including the truck. It’s why I meditate some nights—to recharge the crystals.”

  “No gas tank?” That explained why he hadn’t had to get fuel.

  He grunted, as if barely curious, and led her to a bare area, tossed down their bedding—a bunch of blankets—and hammered a stake into the ground.

  The man meditated to make the truck go. Blue rubbed her forehead. Yet another problem with this world. She didn’t know how to refuel a vehicle.

  He kneeled to chain her ankle to the stake.

  “I see you trust me not to run,” she said, barely restraining her sarcasm.

  “Absolutely.”

  Some nights he’d chained her to him.

  As he stood, he ran his hand up her leg and she shivered, felt herself clench.

  Neighboring men were staring. Going off to pee would be fun. At least Sassik mostly looked away.

  “I’d like to pick my own clothes, next time you find a town.”

  “So you can buy more discreet ones? No. How can I sell you if men can’t see what they’re buying?” His wink made h
er glare, until he put a finger to her nose tip. “No.”

  She blinked. “Sorry.” A minor surrender. Worth it for peace, for space to let her figure out how to get out of this situation. If she ran, where would she go? That question bothered her more with each passing day.

  “Thank you.” Sassik moved his fingertip down to bump over her lips.

  They tingled with remembered sensation and she could smell him even after he stepped away. Asking him to keep her was sensible, except he might decide she’d make a great bedmate after all. As if another man wouldn’t.

  He went back to unpacking the truck, leaving her confused, horny, and annoyed.

  Her sorry was demeaning and his thanks even more so. She wanted not to have to say sorry to this man, at all, ever. She was sure he knew she hated him thanking her.

  A whirlpool of amateur mind-fucking was at play. She wanted to stomp her foot and, yes, run away. From everything. From Aerthe. To find one of those portals and throw herself through.

  No matter that she’d heard you died going back the other way.

  It was easier to say sorry than provoke one of his punishments. She’d suffered those twice more. He delighted in teasing her while spanking her. The feel of his hands on her skin lingered for hours.

  If he picked up a cup, a fork, or the hammer he now held, she often found herself watching. Wasn’t just the pain; his hands fascinated her. Was there such a thing as hand porn?

  Blue sighed.

  They ate a roasted bird and vegetables Sassik had swapped for an animal he’d shot. Living here wouldn’t be so bad if the world wasn’t fucked up, if she wasn’t a slave, if many things.

  Sassik lay back against a rock he’d padded with bedding. Their campsite was at the edge of the gathering—less rowdy, and easier to get lost in the dark. To loosen the chain she’d need tools. Blue shifted her position on the grass and prayed the bugs didn’t bite.

  “Why do the birds here have teeth?”

  “So they can eat?” The nearby waik light showed his eyebrows rising.

  “Right.”

  Would he answer more questions? The more she knew about him, about Aerthe, the better.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the Chasm. And I can see you don’t know what that is.”