“Please, sir,” Tera whispered. “Please give me everything.”
* * *
The strange feeling that Tera knew Je’Tar’s thoughts and feelings, some of them almost human, others very alien indeed, had come upon her so much more strongly once she saw his enormous cock that she could hardly understand it. She knew, though, even in her anxiety at having the tip of him inside her pussy, ready to thrust through her virginity, that fear would not help—that only confidence in his affection for her could see her through the ordeal of having sex for the first time with an alien, in front of two other aliens.
She felt in Je’Tar’s mind and heart the growing influence of his cock’s pleasure. If she pulled back her own feelings in fear, she knew instinctively that he would lose control, wild to have her despite her reluctance. If she placed her trust in him, though, yielded to him and did her best to give him pleasure, their hearts in rapport with one another would find a way for her to receive only what she could safely have... everything, that is, that Je’Tar wished to give her as his human mate.
He looked down to where he had begun to join their bodies, and then up into Tera’s eyes, and then he thrust hard inside her, so that she cried out at the flash of pain that tore through her, and then again at how he filled her up until the hard plate of his te’nop came up against her pubic bone. She felt in his heart as she saw, somehow, in his nose and his strangely handsome, dark red face, that the need to fuck her terribly, terribly hard, first in her pussy and then in her bottom, nearly had control of him. Again she knew that only by accepting that need, yielding to it, even loving it, could she help him indulge it only as far as would be safe—even its roughness and its erotic discomfort.
“Please,” she whispered again. “Please fuck me, sir.”
His nose went down slightly, and she knew it meant she had pleased him, and then he did start to fuck her with his enormous, ridged cock, very hard. Tera cried out, and the pleasure that came together with the pain of lost virginity and the distension he wrought made her buck against him, lewdly trying to get more of him inside despite the way he seemed to push his cock all the way up her body. She felt impaled, hammered, pounded, and she loved it, giving herself over to her alien warrior’s pleasure completely.
He came quickly, it seemed to her, with a shout that seemed to embody all the ambiguous pleasure Tera herself felt. He pounded hard as his cock spurted deep inside her, so that for a moment Tera worried that he might harm her with the sheer force of his jackhammering hips, but then the orgasm passed, and his eyes, closed for a moment as if in sheer pleasure, opened to regard her solemnly.
“Thank you, sir,” she said, smiling, expecting that his nose would go down and flat in the expression she had come to understand as his own form of smile, and anticipating that he would withdraw, as his penis softened.
But Je’Tar didn’t pull himself out of her, and his cock didn’t seem to grow soft.
“Be brave,” he said softly, though the deepness of his voice rumbled in her body, joined to his. “Your bottom, now.”
Tera’s eyes went wide and she swallowed hard. For a moment panic went through her. Now? So soon?
Ge’Dor spoke again in that cruel tone. “I think girl thought fucking over. No, girl. He’Ban warrior stay hard as long as he choose. Climax again, when he want. Je’Tar will fill up little human backside.”
Tera looked up at Je’Tar and tried to put a brave smile on her face. He did pull his cock out, now, and pushing her knees even further back, he put the tip gently against the little flower of her anus. Tera bit her lip, and suppressed a whimper. He had turned his eyes downward, to watch himself take her in this most dominant, most intimate way, and suddenly she felt a wrongness in the scene, and a way she could save herself by submitting more fully.
“Take me like a He’Ban female,” she said softly. “Turn me over and fuck my bottom that way. Let them see you claim your mate.”
He looked into her eyes, and now his nose did make his special smile. The madness would come upon him, but the tenderness at her yielding would temper it.
He turned her over, laid her across the edge of the bunk. “Show us your anus, Tera,” he said, and she, feeling more lustful than she would ever have imagined she could, found that she could move her hands just enough to pull her cheeks apart, so that the air moved in a place it should not move.
The admiral said, “Girl, are you sure?”
“Yes, sir,” Tera said to the soft mattress of the captain’s bunk where suddenly she hoped she might sleep many nights to come, as he taught her about the ways of his pleasure and showed her the galaxy.
The huge cock pressed, and Tera moaned, but her heart seemed to understand, with the help of Je’Tar’s experience, how to open herself even to his punishing presence, slick with what she assumed must be the lubrication of his pre-come. She cried out again and again as he felt him hold her hips and fuck in his warrior style, but she also felt his bond with her keep the savagery of his body’s need in check just enough. Tera’s bottom would be very sore, but Je’Tar did not press far enough in to harm her.
Crouching above her rear end, he fucked her anus in pistoning thrusts that made her long to touch her aching pussy, but her bound hands held her bottom-cheeks apart for her master’s enjoyment instead. He would reward her, when this ordeal had ended: she could feel it in her heart. For now, in this rite of joining, the wild pleasure belonged to him, and Tera would provide it, face down and bottom up for her alien warrior.
When at last he came in her smallest passage, and Tera became aware of the room again, beyond the captain’s bunk, the other officers had gone. Je’Tar lay beside her, holding her gently in his arms.
“My girl,” he said very quietly, and kissed her with his strangely small mouth, his nose smiling very broadly. “My ut’wei mate.”
Tera snuggled into his arms, wondering how skin that looked so rough could feel so warm and sensual. “Your pleasure-girl, too, sir.”
Je’Tar put his hand down to reawaken her, and sore as she was, Tera responded to his touch with a moan, and with squirming hips that she knew he would understand.
“Oh, yes,” he said. “My pleasure-girl.”
The End
About Emily Tilton
USA Today bestselling author Emily Tilton, whose books have hit number one on Amazon in six different erotica categories, is a married professor who lives in New England and has two wonderful children. Her stories are what she wishes her real sex-life could be.
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The Enforcer by Ashe Barker
Chapter One
“You’re sure it was him? There’s no mistake?” Erin swiveled in her chair, the better to fire questions at her assistant. Between herself and Deputy Monitor Jacob Morrell they ran the Gamma wing at Amalthea II, a penal colony located on one of Jupiter’s more remote moons.
Erin Stein was monitor, in overall command at the isolated outpost. There were more than a few colleagues in the Pan-Galactic Department of Correction and Enforcement—males, of course—who would question the wisdom of appointing a female, and one relatively young, to such a position of responsibility but Erin had worked her way through the ranks and had earned her status. Now in command of her own station, she prided herself on her efficiency and attention to detail. Her wing operated like a well-oiled machine.
Usually.
Xyker Ramone had put a stop to that, denting both her professional reputation and her skull in the process. His escape from Amalthea II almos
t two months previously had taken her by surprise and Erin detested surprises. She had been off the station, attending a training seminar on the neighboring moon of Lysithea. A grasp of the intricacies of interplanetary diplomacy and negotiation skills had been deemed mandatory for those of her rank so she’d had no choice but to go along. She’d found the subject dry, tedious, but she’d passed the course with her usual exemplary grades. Even so, she preferred her schedules and processes, the beauteous certainty of a well-ordered and tightly managed system.
And look what happened the moment she’d taken her eye off things and left the system to fend for itself. Jacob was good, but he couldn’t be everywhere at once. And Ramone was one slippery son of a bitch.
He was also one of the most magnificent examples of the male gender she had ever seen, and her experience was extensive. In her line of work she’d encountered most species. Xyker Ramone was tall, even for a Ymirian. Their routine bio and psychometric scans had revealed a powerful musculature, formidable physical strength as well as high intelligence and superlative strategic reasoning, a lethal combination calling for particular vigilance on the part of his jailers. He’d also demonstrated a ready wit, which made him popular with other prisoners, and the uncanny ability to melt Erin’s underwear with one smoldering look from those striking eyes. They were of a deep green, with a sheen that was metallic in appearance, and fringed by thick eyelashes wasted on a male. She had never met anyone quite like him and though she would resign her commission rather than admit such a thing, he occupied a good deal of her attention.
Too much, probably. On one occasion he’d caught her staring at him and he’d smiled. He’d actually had the audacity to fucking smile at her. Then he’d winked, as though he’d known exactly the effect he had on her and her pathetic underwear.
Bloody arrogant male.
The Ymirian was her most high-profile prisoner, serving a fifty percent tariff for interstellar piracy and theft. The tariff referred to the estimated remaining lifespan of the prisoner at the time of sentencing, which in the case of Xyker Ramone meant he could have expected to be incarcerated for half of the rest of his life. He would remain in her custody for the next seventy-three years.
Except the prisoner had other ideas. Making use of the somewhat peculiar Ymirian trait of feature realignment, Xyker had been able to alter his facial appearance to closely resemble the orderly who collected laundry. A stolen staff uniform had completed the disguise and had been good enough to get the felon as far as the perimeter barrier before he had been challenged. The ionic force field that surrounded the wing had detected nonhuman DNA and activated the alarm. All hell had broken loose, which was the point at which Erin had arrived back to find herself in the middle of a riot.
It had been obvious this was not a spontaneous escape attempt. She’d spotted a Ymirian freighter in orbit when Erin approached Amalthea in her Skyhawk pursuit craft. She should have smelled a rat then and challenged them. That was her first error. Next, she should have contacted her command center on the wing. That was her second cock-up. Her next—and near-fatal—mistake was to land the Skyhawk close to the heart of the fighting. She was armed when she leaped from the pursuit craft intent on quelling this disorder, but so were Ramone and the handful of convicts who were making it their business to abscond along with him. Erin took a direct hit to the shoulder, and one to the head. The laser cannons commandeered by the escapees must have been set to stun not kill, but even so she was unconscious for almost three days and had been plagued by raging headaches since.
While she had lain injured on the landing strip, Ramone and his men had made it out beyond the ionic barrier and had been transported onto the freighter. That was the last she’d heard of him.
Until now.
“Yes, a definite sighting, with bio-ID to confirm.” Jacob passed her the small tablet with the details. “It looks as though he’s up to his old tricks again. According to this intelligence he orchestrated an assault on a siarnaq crystals depot in the Fenrir quadrant, got away with over thirty tons of the stuff.”
Erin let out a low whistle. “That’s enough to fuel his home world for a year or two. Must be worth a fortune.”
Jacob nodded. “And a cargo of that size won’t be something he wants to cart around the galaxy. The working assumption is that he’ll be headed for Ymir.”
“Right.” Erin got to her feet, too fast as it turned out. She staggered and waited for the pounding against the inside of her temple to subside. “Plot me the most direct route between the Fenrir quadrant and Ymir, and calculate the intercept coordinates.”
Jacob shook his head. “Sorry, Monitor. Not happening.”
What the fuck? Erin glared at him. “I gave you an order, Deputy.”
Jacob shrugged. “You’re in no state to take on Ramone again. Not yet.”
“I’m not letting that bastard get away. He belongs here, in a cell, and that’s where he’s headed. Now get to it. I intend to leave within the hour.”
Jacob shifted in his seat. “Boss... Erin...” He took the tablet back from her. “Warden Keeon has already authorized an apprehend and recover mission. Led by Byrom.”
“Byrom? Alexi Byrom? What does this have to do with him, for fuck’s sake? His wing isn’t even on this moon.”
Monitor Alexi Byrom commanded the Theta wing, located on Callisto. Admittedly, Theta was a bigger facility, a more prestigious command, but at least in theory she and Byrom were of equal rank. What business did he have muscling in on her patch? Even worse, apprehending a prisoner who rightly belonged to her?
Erin reached for her communicator and pulled up a direct link to Warden Keeon, her superior. Keeon was overall controller of all thirty-seven penal colonies serving the galaxy and he was a busy man. Erin was startled when her hail went straight through.
“Monitor Stein? I was expecting to hear from you.”
Why does that not surprise me? Keeon knows everything. His calm, even tone took the wind from her overblown sails but Erin was determined to press her case.
“I heard that Ramone has been sighted. I want to go after him. I—”
“No.” The warden cut off her demands with one simple word.
“Warden, you don’t understand. I need to go. It’s my responsibility.”
“Actually, it’s mine,” came the measured response, “and so are you, for that matter. Byrom has the better chance of success right now.”
“But he doesn’t even know the prisoner. I could—”
“Erin, you’re not fully fit yet.” Warden Keeon gentled his voice and she could hear the concern there. “I’ve seen the medics’ reports and the scans. You need at least another month before you return to full active duty. You’re good, this is no reflection on you, just a matter of timing. This recovery is Byrom’s.”
“That’s not—”
“This conversation is over, Monitor Stein. Byrom will apprehend the prisoner and for the time being he will be held on Theta wing. I’m sorry, but the decision is made. Goodbye.”
The connection was abruptly concluded, leaving Erin to glare at the terminal on her desk.
“Theta wing? No way is Ramone going there. He’s mine.” She spoke to herself rather than to Jacob, though the deputy monitor remained in the control room. Belatedly remembering his presence, Erin fastened her attention on her assistant. “Either you’re with me or you aren’t. Which is it?”
“Erin, you know I’ll always—”
“Which is it?” demanded Erin, her eyes narrowing.
Long moments passed, then Jacob finally answered. “What do you want me to do?”
Erin let out a breath she didn’t even know she had been holding. “Does the data we have tell us when Byrom was intending to set off? And where from?”
Jacob checked the display. “Yes. He’s scheduled to launch two point seven hours from now, from Callisto.”
Erin smiled. “Good, Amalthea’s closer to the Fenrir quadrant so I can get a jump on him. And I’ll leave sooner.
Plot me that course and those coordinates. And assemble a skeleton crew for the Skyhawk, three at the most. I’ll expect to see them on the launch pad one hour from now.”
* * *
The Galaxy-class Skyhawk pursuit craft was Erin’s pride and joy, and symbolized her success. Among the most technically advanced interplanetary shuttles ever developed by the Pan-Galactic Alliance, these mean machines were only issued to pilots of exceptional skill. Erin had a natural talent for flying.
Erin settled herself in the control capsule and started running her checks. One of the advances of the Skyhawk was the direct link to its pilot’s biorhythms and sensory impulses. What she saw, what she heard, smelled, touched, the Skyhawk shared, and vice versa. Only she could activate key command codes. No one but she could fly this craft.
Satisfied that all was in order in the cockpit, she went down into the crew’s quarters to check the stores.
She would leave nothing to chance. That was where she had gone wrong last time. Anticipation, planning, and meticulous control would win the day when she next came face to face with her absconded prisoner.
Xyker Ramone had no chance.
Approaching voices disturbed her inspection of the Skyhawk’s photonic engines. Erin glanced over her shoulder to see Jacob and two other crew members, suited up in readiness for launch. She grinned at them and vaulted to the ground.
“Jacob, Yves, Katya... thank you for this.”
“No problem.” Jacob ushered the other two on board. “Shall I initiate the launch protocols?”
“Yep.” Erin pulled on her own helmet and flicked on the audio system. “Let’s go after that bastard.”
* * *
According to Jacob’s calculations they should intercept their target in eighteen point seven hours. Erin logged in the directional headings and optimum velocity, then sat back. The Skyhawk would do the rest so there was nothing much to do except wait. And plan.
Alien Alphas: Twenty-Three Naughty Sci-Fi Romance Novellas Page 61