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

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Alien Alphas: Twenty-Three Naughty Sci-Fi Romance Novellas Page 29

by Grace Goodwin


  Genine felt their connection and read the confirmation in his eyes. They were now one unit, the gaps within their souls filled with each other.

  Batu straightened, cupping his hands under her ass. “As the winner of this battle, I take my opponent as my prize.” He walked with her toward the gates, his gait smooth and sure, their bodies remaining locked together. “She is now mine to do with as I wish.”

  The crowd cheered.

  Genine closed her eyes, ignoring his words. That was part of the show.

  She trusted the bond between them.

  Chapter Four

  By the time Batu had carried his gerel to the chamber he’d purchased for the planet rotation, their bonding was complete. He set her upon the sleeping support. There were nourishment bars and containers of beverage placed on a nearby horizontal support.

  He pressed a container of beverage into her shaking hands. “Drink.” He followed his own command, tossing the liquid back.

  They drank and ate in a companionable silence.

  “I didn’t die,” Genine finally said, her eyes wide with wonder.

  “I’d protect you with my lifespan.” He touched her chin. The marks from the sand had vanished. “The pain and the humiliation were necessary.”

  “There’s no place for pride on the battlefield.” She set aside the now-empty container.

  His gerel was a warrior, as he was. She understood the situation and understood him.

  “And you experienced more pain than I did.” She caught his wrists, looked at his palms.

  His nanocybotics had healed his hands. “I have endured much more pain for far less reward.” The Humanoid Alliance, the beings who had genetically designed him, had tortured him during his training, testing the limits of his abilities.

  “I’m your reward.” She released him. “What does being your reward involve?”

  “You’re my gerel.” He reached for two cleaning cloths, started to remove the blood and sand from her skin, using both of his hands. “And I am your Warlord. That means we are permanently bonded. You’re the only female for me and I’m the only male for you. We stay together. Always. Forever.”

  She grasped cleaning cloths also. “What is a gerel?” She swept the fabric squares over his skin, her innocent touching hardening his cock.

  “Gerel translates in the universal language to light.” He curved his cleaning cloth-covered hands over her large breasts, relishing their weight and softness. A male could happily disappear into their bounty and never return. “You are the light to my darkness, the heart in my chest, the air in my lungs.”

  “And you are my Warlord.” Her voice grew husky, her nipples tightening under his adoration. “A Warlord has beings serving him.”

  “I don’t have any beings serving me.” His lips twisted. “I was designed in a laboratory, was the sole genetically enhanced Chamele created. I’m the only one of my kind.”

  “I’m serving you right now.” Genine kneeled on the sleeping support before him and rubbed the cleaning cloths over his chest, his strong female the temporary image of submission. “You can command me.”

  Blood flowed through his veins, gathering in his groin, the possibility of her serving him turning him on. “You’re not truly a slave. You’re free.”

  “I do have a choice.” Her head dipped, her curls bouncing against her cheeks. “And I choose to serve you.”

  Her declaration stopped Batu’s hands. She was perfect for him.

  “Most of my lifespan has been spent fighting for the Rebel forces, obeying their orders. That is what I’m accustomed to do.” She gazed at him through lowered eyelashes as her fingers danced upon his form. “I can’t promise to follow all of your directions. If your commands lack logic, I will push back on them. But I will try.”

  “If my commands lack logic, I expect you to refuse them.” He would earn her obedience, that challenge pleasing his dominant soul. “I will treasure your voluntary submission, would never ask anything of you I wouldn’t ask of myself.” He would never hurt her, never place her lifespan in danger. She was his to protect. “Lie upon your front.”

  Genine immediately obeyed him, a small smile on her lush lips. He swept the cleaning cloths over her curls, her back, her pert ass. She had promised to serve him, her Warlord, but a great Warlord served his beings also.

  He cleaned every dip, every groove in her skin, every remnant of his gerel’s past battles. Those experiences had made her who she was, the female he was fated to love.

  Her eyelids lowered. Her muscles relaxed.

  Batu sensed a presence outside their chamber. He silently urged the being to walk past their door, to not disturb their private moment.

  The knock on the metal roused his gerel.

  “I’ll see who it is.” He handed Genine the cleaning cloths, moved to the door, opening it. The Host stood before him, folded black leather in his arms, along with a tiny container.

  “We were pleased with your performance in the ring, Fighter Batu.” The male’s voice was flat, emotionless. “Your ownership of Fighter Genine has been awarded in lieu of credits and you are being presented with these garments and a set of restraints for your new slave, in acknowledgement of your solar cycles of service.” The Host passed the gifts to Batu. “Your weapons are being cleaned. They will be returned to you.”

  “Thank you.” Some of the tension eased from Batu’s shoulders. They would spare his gerel’s life.

  “We will be progressing to the next settlement at sunrise.” The Host informed him.

  “I won’t be accompanying you.” The battles no longer held any appeal to Batu. He’d found his mate, would devote himself to protecting her lifespan, making her happy.

  “We assumed you wouldn’t accompany us.” The Host glanced at Genine and then back at him. “The rustics chatter and we do not wish to have our lenience broadcast. Ensure your new slave wears her restraints at all times.”

  Batu understood what the male implied. If Genine didn’t wear her restraints, the symbols of her captivity, she would be slated for death. “Everyone will know she belongs to me.”

  “See that they do.” The Host nodded curtly, turned and walked away.

  That part of his lifespan was over. Batu returned to his gerel, the door closing behind him. “Did you hear all of it?”

  “I heard.” She sat upright, her feet dangling over the edge of the sleeping support. “Will I be able to fight, wearing these restraints?”

  Fighting was all his mate was concerned about. Batu’s lips twitched. “You’ll be able to fight.”

  He set the leather aside and opened the container. The restraints were delicate, tiny works of art, exquisite yet practical. The black metal had been dulled as to not reflect the light. The flex in them accommodated movement. They were perfect for his little warrior.

  Batu kneeled, removed her boots, encircled her ankles with the restraints. They fit her as though they were made for her, which he suspected they were.

  Genine wiggled her toes, gazing down at them. “They’re light. They shouldn’t slow me down.”

  “They’re beautiful.” They were almost as beautiful as she was. He glided his fingertips up her legs, hips, sides as he straightened. “Hold out your hands.”

  She complied. He fastened the restraints around her wrists.

  His warrior mate tested them, moving her arms as though she was swinging a sword. “These will do.” She nodded, giving them her approval.

  Batu leaned over her, clicked the collar closed. The intricate clasp accentuated the beauty of her nape, the meeting of short brown curls and soft skin.

  He gazed at her with pride, satisfaction filling him. Everyone would know she was his.

  “This ring controls your restraints.” He slipped a band of matching metal on his finger, squeezed it to fit him snugly, ensuring it wouldn’t fall off. Everyone would know he was hers also.

  “You could control my restraints now.” Her cheeks turned pink. “Test them. Ensure they hold
.” The scent of her arousal strengthened.

  She wanted him to restrict her movements, to bind her hands and feet together, opening her body to him, giving him total mastery over her.

  Batu wanted that also, desiring her with every battered part of his soul. If he was selfish, thinking only of the moment, he would restrain her, touch her, rut with her, solidifying their bond physically, emotionally, in all ways.

  But, as he exited the fighting ring, he’d met the gaze of one of the clone females. He’d seen the distress in her purple eyes.

  Genine loved those females, had been willing to die for one of them, and they worried about her, wouldn’t relax until they were assured she was unharmed.

  “I’ll control your restraints when we return.” Batu handed his gerel the garments crafted for her.

  The Host had also delivered a replacement set of ass coverings for him, in matching black leather. They were the same design he always wore, the garment manufactured with built-in sheaths and loops.

  “You want me as much as I want you.” Genine’s gaze lowered to his hard cock. “Why do you deprive both of us?”

  “I want you more than any male has ever wanted a female,” he corrected her, pulling on his ass coverings, fastening them over his unrelenting bulge. “But duty comes before pleasure.”

  She hesitated for a moment and then nodded. Batu watched her as she dressed. Her chest covering bared her arms, the tops of her breasts. Her ass covering had only one leg opening and reached mid-thigh. The garment had strategically placed sheaths and gun holsters.

  Paired with her tall boots, she looked sexy and strong. She was also undeniably his, his collar around her neck, his restraints decorating her wrists and proclaiming his ownership of her.

  Batu’s balls throbbed, threatening to explode. “You’re gorgeous, gerel.”

  “I’m unarmed.” She kicked a couple of times, punching the air, revealing more skin.

  He caught one of her boots, held her leg upward. “You’re missing a piece.” He leaned into her, pressing all of him against all of her.

  “Am I?” She licked her bottom lip. He tracked the sensual movement with his gaze.

  Everything she did called to him, stripped his resolve. Batu stepped back, reluctantly releasing her, before he lost complete control.

  “You are.” He retrieved the chain from the small container. “This is thin, unbreakable.”

  Her eyes widened. “It’s perfect for choking the enemy.”

  That was his warrior female. Batu swallowed a chuckle. “Don’t use it unless you have to.” He fastened one end to her right wrist restraint, strung it through a loop on her collar, attached the other end to the left wrist restraint, allowing the chain to hang loose, over her leather-clad breasts.

  She spread her arms, pulling the chain tight. “I could dispatch two enemies with this.”

  “I’m your Warlord.” He extended his claws. “Leave some of our enemies for me.”

  “I’ll leave some of our enemies.” Her gaze locked with his, the joy in her eyes warming his chest. “We’ll be an unbeatable force, you and I.”

  “No one will defeat us.” Batu retracted his claws and drew her to him, brushing his lips over hers, unable to resist kissing her one more time.

  She kissed him back, grasping his shoulders, swiveling her hips against his.

  He groaned. His female could tempt a rock.

  “Behave, gerel.” He turned her toward the door, placed a palm on the small of her back and propelled her forward.

  * * *

  The sun touched the horizon when Batu exited the structure with his gerel. Shadows stretched across the pathways. His enhanced eyesight pierced the darkened corners around them. Possible threats were detected.

  Genine wasn’t the only being in possible danger. He heard the clone females as soon as the doors closed behind him.

  One of the females screamed. The other yelled, “Leave us alone, we’ll... we’ll...”

  “You’ll what? You’ll do nothing.” A male mocked, while two other males laughed, their pitches distinguishing them. “That tall monster of a female isn’t here to protect you now.”

  “Fighting us is a wasted effort. You won’t win,” one of his accomplices sneered. “So bend over and take our cocks like good females.”

  Batu grasped Genine’s hand, folding his fingers over hers, securing her to him, and he sprinted in the direction of the voices. His warrior female didn’t protest or ask questions. She silently ran beside him, having total faith in his lead.

  That pleased him. He would never damage that trust, would be a Warlord worthy of her confidence.

  The two clone females stood back-to-back in the middle of a darkened path. Their garments were torn. Their faces were the palest purple.

  Three human males surrounded them, their arms outstretched, not allowing the clone females to escape. Two of the males glanced at the largest one for direction. He must be the leader. The big-bellied one was positioned close to the leader’s right hand. He appeared to be the second-in-command. The third male shook, his face as pale as the females’. He looked as though he wished to be anywhere else but there.

  They had guns but the weapons remained in their holsters. Daggers were stuck into the packed sand, the hilts angled toward the clone females.

  The clone females must have thrown the weapons, missed their targets. They required more training, weren’t yet as skilled as his gerel.

  Batu waited in the shadows, Genine standing tensely by his side. His observations would determine whether they killed all of the males or left a male alive to warn others.

  “The one with the big tits is mine.” The largest male pulled one of the clone females toward him. She screamed. Her friend punched and kicked the male.

  “This one’s mine.” The second-in-command hooked his arms around the fighting female, dragging her apart from her friend. “I like them feisty.”

  He squeezed her breasts. She elbowed him in the stomach. The male cursed, tightening his grip on her.

  The third male looked to the left, to the right, slowly moved away from them.

  “Leave and you’re dead, kid,” the leader told him. “I’ll kill you myself.”

  The kid froze in place.

  He would be the only one of the three males to survive the planet rotation. Batu met his gerel’s gaze, inclined his head toward the second-in-command. That male would be her target. She nodded, signaling she understood.

  Batu would ensure his gerel was successful in her task. He’d distract the males, draw their attention to him.

  “Let the females go.” He stepped forward, into the fading light. “They’re under our protection.”

  “Fuck off.” The big male ripped at the clone female’s garment. “You can have your turn later.”

  That was the wrong answer. Batu extended his claws, flicked them.

  His warrior female rushed toward the second-in-command, ran up his body, using him like a ramp. She hooked her chain around the male’s thick neck and pulled. The male made a strangled sound, released the clone female he was accosting, and pulled at the makeshift weapon, turning, trying to dislodge Batu’s gerel.

  Batu, assured she had her target handled, turned his focus to the leader. The male was bent over the clone female, groping her bare breasts, while attempting to unfasten his ass coverings.

  Batu sprinted past him, grazing his claws over the male’s ass, slicing through fabric, skin and flesh. The male howled, dropped the clone female, straightened, and turned.

  “You’re going to die, freak.” The male drew his guns.

  Batu, moving at modified humanoid speed, severed his opponent’s hands. The male bellowed, waving his arms. Blood sprayed the white sand.

  The clone female scurried away from the fight, huddling against the wall with her friend. His gerel’s target struggled, his face turning blue.

  “Don’t just stand there, kid,” the leader barked at the third male. “Kill him.”

 
The kid touched the handles of his guns and glanced at Batu. Batu shook his head. The male swallowed hard and lowered his hands.

  That was the right decision. Batu would have killed the kid. The leader was a twisted shell of a male, unworthy of that sacrifice.

  “Does he die quickly or slowly?” Batu asked the clone female the leader had attacked, giving her control over her assailant’s fate.

  She looked at him, at her attacker, and then at the other male. Batu’s gerel hadn’t asked for input. She was killing her target slowly, inflicting the maximum amount of pain on him. The second-in-command clawed frantically at the chain, his eyes bulging, spittle forming on his lips.

  The clone female’s bottom lip quivered. “He dies quickly,” she whispered.

  “Nooo.” The leader ran, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

  He couldn’t escape his destiny. Batu chased the male, swiped his claws over his prey’s neck, cutting through skin, flesh, bone, decapitating him. The head hit the pathway first, the eyes wide and lifeless. The body fell next, a crimson pool forming around it.

  Batu’s gerel yanked on the chain and her target toppled. His arms and legs thrashed, then grew still.

  She removed the chain and hopped to her booted feet. “What do we do with him?” She indicated the third male.

  “We let him go.” Batu wiped his bloody claws on the frightened male’s chest covering. “If he’s wise, he’ll tell everyone the clone females are under our protection.” He met the kid’s gaze. “Because we will hold him responsible for their welfare. If they’re attacked again, we will hunt him down and we will kill him. Slowly.”

  The kid gulped and nodded. Batu suspected the male would be more careful of his companions in the future.

  “Go,” he told the kid.

  The kid fled as though they were pursuing him, not looking back.

  Genine crouched by the clone females, murmuring words of comfort, reassuring them they were safe. Batu stood guard, monitoring their surroundings, ensuring no threats drew near the beings he cared for.

  Especially the being he was destined to love.

  He gazed at his gerel with pride. She was a good female, careful with her traumatized friends, severe with their enemies, passionate with him.

 

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