Shifting to the side, he let his chains strike something metallic in the dark, and squinting, she could make out the barest outline of what might pass for a toilet. Inside his perimeter. “Shitting in the corner it is, then,” she murmured, taking a half step back because he had way more slack in those chains than she thought he might. “It’s okay. Doesn’t matter. We’ll be gone before any of it matters.”
Silence met her claim, and she frowned, having expected him to latch on to the idea of freedom. To do something other than watch her with those unblinking eyes. She clasped her strong hand over the spider, snuffing the light. “Right. What about water? Are... do you drink from the toilet, then?” Left palm raised, she offered a tiny smile as his eyes flashed bright once more. “Not judging. Water is water, and I don’t know about Felidae, of course, but humans can’t survive long without it. Speaking of which—” she swallowed, jostling the spider nestled in her throat. “I’m desperately in need of something to drink. Throat is parched, what with all the screaming, surprise surgery, then screaming some more in whateverthefuck language we’re speaking now.”
Again, he kept his silence, stepping back to reveal a faucet jutting straight from the damp concrete wall.
She grimaced, then turned, pacing. No water or toilet. Injured and locked in a cage with a beast with whom she was expected to create a new hybrid species or die in the attempt. “Why this whole show?” she asked. “Why not just harvest human eggs and create hybrids in the lab? Sentient beings are messy. Unpredictable.”
At this, he laughed. Raspy. Guttural. Contempt filling the frigid air between them. “Sentient? You’re a measly class six. A five, at best.”
She shrugged with the unaffected shoulder. “What are Felidae, then? Five?” she pressed, grinning when the silence returned, taking it as answer enough. “Class four at best?”
He made a sound in the dark. The mid-ground between a snarl and a growl.
“Lucky for you,” she said, preening, “I’m no average human. They’ve written songs about my genius, back on Earth.”
“A genius human who can’t remember her own name? How inspiring.”
“Given the circumstances, I would say my name is hardly an important factor. I would have expected you to be more interested in how I’m getting out of this shithole, but perhaps I under estimated your place on the scale of sentient beings.”
And then he did snarl, lunging to the very end of his leash, straining toward her in more ways than one. “There is no escaping this prison, you silly bitch. That door will not open again until you carry a brat in your belly or you lay dead on the floor.” He smiled—she caught the quirk of a lower lip. The pointed edge of lengthy canines bared in the dark. Deadly. The grin of a predator starving for the hunt.
It should have sent her to cower on the other side of the room.
Wetting parched lips, she rocked forward. Clenching. “How do they know? Are they watching us?” She sent wide eyes to scour the darkness, searching for the reflective lens of a camera.
He scoffed, tugging at his collar. “They’ll collect your corpse when the light goes out, recover your borrowed hardware before you’ve gone cold, then install it in your successor. Still clinging to bits of your brain stem, no doubt. Maybe another of your pathetic species. Maybe not.” He shrugged. “Nothing goes to waste.”
“When the light goes out...” She snapped her fingers. “Of course,” she hissed, wrapping her hand around the spider once more. Snuffing the light. “They’re monitoring my blood. Aren’t they? Changes in hormones. Oxygen sats. They’ll know if I’m with—” She shook her head, teeth clenched, palm pressing against her wound. “They’ll know if I perish. What about you? Do your chains do the same thing? How will they know if you—”
“I am Felidae. It will take more than this place to kill me.”
“Oh, there’s loads of things that could kill me in here,” she returned, retreating until her back pressed against the damp concrete of the wall opposite. “Cold. Bacteria. Dehydration. You.”
A grin in the dark. “Pathetic.”
Humming, she sank to the floor in the furthest corner, right arm cradled in her lap. “Refresh my pathetic memory, if you could. Which one of us got rag-dolled by a giant blue knucklehead, and which one bathed in the blood of her victim?”
He growled, chains scraping the concrete in his wake. “You lie. There is no way you managed to inflict any significant damage on a Golem.”
“Oh, and which one of us got tied up by said pathetic, helpless female?”
“Your ignorance gives you courage,” he rasped, pacing. Tail fluffed up and lashing into the tiny square of light dividing the room. “If I were free of these chains, you would beg for a swift end.”
“It’ll be that horrible, will it? Fascinating,” she breathed, crossing her ankles, trying to ignore the way her thighs rubbed at their apex. “Human men tend to brag about their sexual prowess. Rare is the man who already knows he’ll disappoint. Rarer still is the man who can admit it’ll be so bad his partner will beg for the grand finale to come faster. I commend your honesty, if nothing else.”
“My—” he spluttered, going still.
“Though it does make me wonder why they chose you to be the forefather of a new species. One might expect they’d want take the very best candidate for the job, like yours truly, but... genetic modification was never my forte. And I’m only a class five sentient being, so who am I to say?”
“Class six,” he snapped. “And a forced mating to a weak, fledgling species like yours is my punishment. There is no greater shame than the desecration of pure Felidae genes.”
“Then I accept your gratitude,” the human said, inclining her head to hide a smirk.
“Grati—”
“I’ll stay on my side of our cozy living quarters because you’re not strong enough to resist all this. The Felidae bloodlines shall remain unsullied, and in return,” she continued, tucking her knees closer to her chest in an effort to conserve body heat, “I’ll need you to provide water until I’ve figured out how to escape.”
“Not strong enough—this was never up for debate!” he bellowed, spittle flying across the border. “You don’t have the strength to open that door, let alone—”
“No,” she said. “But I suspect you do, without those chains. Or at the very least, you can stand against beings like Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Stupid. And that makes us partners.”
“The very suggestion offends my ancestors.”
“And yet, I am the only one who can free you—after I flush this double dose of Felidae hormones from my system, of course.”
“Lies,” he hissed, but returned to the edge of the light, eyes reflecting their sinister glow.
“Lying to you serves no purpose,” she said, burying her left hand between her thighs—to warm her fingers, of course. “My aim is to see this place burn, but I can’t do it alone. If I cannot free you from your chains, I’m sure you’ll kill me for the deceit. But if I do nothing—or worse, submit—I’ll die anyway. At least this way, it’s on my terms.”
For a moment, he was silent. Hovering at the border of his territory, still as ice.
“Do we have a deal?”
“I’m not a servant.”
The human smirked. “If you want to get out of here, little princeling, you’ll find a way to get me water.”
“Come get it yourself, lazy wretch. Straight from the tap.”
The raspy suggestion tugged at the base of her spine. “Ah, ah, ah,” she cooed, ignoring her needy pussy because she was an intellectual, dammit. “That would violate the terms of our agreement. I’m sure you’ll figure something out. You are a class five sentient being, after all.”
“Four!”
Chapter Seven
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
A tap, echoing in the dark. Only serving to make her throat ache, for it came from his side of the room. Because of course there was a leaky tap she couldn’t fix. Som
e intergalactic toddler-god must be having a great time pulling her strings. Unless her Felidae had turned the tap on just to spite her. Just to remind her that what she needed to flush her system of mind-altering hormones was utterly beyond her reach.
Drip.
With an irate huff, she hugged her injured arm, back pressed to frigid concrete. She’d be damned if she’d give either of them the pleasure of knowing they’d gotten under her skin. No, she’d just sit here quietly. And wait. And try to come up with a plan to get out of this hole that didn’t involve a flat-line or hybrid fetus.
Drip.
Yep. Just sit there in the cold and dark, minding her business. She was lucky, really. It was so dark that her being naked wasn’t a problem, and the cold? Brisk and invigorating. Good support for overworked mental faculties pleading for a single moment’s rest, and it helped control the swelling in her shoulder.
Positivity really quieted the screams trapped in her chest.
He grunted, the sound teasing a needy flutter from neglected flesh. It was low and raspy. Rhythmic. Straining toward some unknown purpose.
“What are you doing?” she asked, squinting into the dark.
By way of response, he turned glowing red eyes upon her, pausing.
“If—” she cleared her throat. “If you’re... uh... touching yourself, Kallp said it wouldn’t help. Though...” She pushed her strong hand through tangled hair. “Though I suppose it’s silly to think he knows more about Felidae mating habits than you do—you know what?” She laughed, high and brittle. “Sorry. Do whatever you want. All I ask is that you’re... you know... quieter about it.”
For a moment, he didn’t respond. Didn’t blink, or speak, or acknowledge her in any measurable way. And then, ever-so-slowly, that crimson gaze appeared to sink, never leaving her face, yet drifting toward the floor. He paused, hovering there. Watching her.
Drip.
Without a word he grunted—with twice the enthusiasm than before she’d spoken—expelling a noisy puff of breath as he returned to neutral. Settling into a routine. Up. Down. Up. Down.
Steady.
Methodical.
Drip.
“Is that really the best use of your time?” she asked, gnashing the wound on her hip. Irritating reddened flesh. “I don’t care if you have to soak it up with your fuzzy tail and drip it into my mouth like a doting momma birdy, I need water. And food. I can’t remember the last time I ate something other than Kallp’s numbing slime—which wasn’t by choice, mind you.” She shivered, wedging herself deeper into the corner. “And it’s bloody freezing in here. Do you have a blanket?”
She felt the silence sneer.
“Yes, yes,” she muttered. “I’m weak and pathetic. How terrible for the great prince of Felidae to be imprisoned with an irresistible genius with unparalleled fashion sense. I make grime and gore look hot, buddy. And for the record, if you think—”
A thin, balled cloth struck her in the face, jerking a yelp from chapped lips. Remarkable aim for someone trapped in almost total darkness.
“Are you serious?” she asked, holding the moist bit of fabric at arm’s length with an incredulous scowl. “What kind of sorry excuse is this for a blanket? It’s barely large enough to use as a shawl and it’s wet—” She stopped. Jaws gaping. Nostrils flared. “What... what is this?” Collecting the damp cloth, she pressed it to her nose. Inhaling.
Salty. Sweet with an indescribable tang that set her mouth to watering. Nutrient-rich water, perhaps? She rubbed the threadbare cloth between forefinger and thumb, considering. Was this his solution? His way of upholding his end of their bargain? It didn’t compare to drinking from a glass, but as a means of keeping her hydrated given the circumstances? It was clever. And whatever was in that water was divine. Almost enough to send her into his territory so she could affix her lips to the dripping source and fuck the consequences.
She wet her lips, eyes rolling back as tiny bubbles of flavor exploded on her palate.
Tasted like more.
Wring it out, or suck on it until there was nothing left? Both?
She pulled another breath into the deepest pocket of her lungs, blinking slow and lazy for the scent alone was enough to send a wave of warmth prickling through her veins. Producing flushed skin and elevated heart rate, leaving sweat beaded on her brow. Breath coming hard, she flexed her thighs, pressing her knees together. Hand clenched around the cloth as it drifted toward her lips.
“What are you doing?”
“I...” She blinked, meeting that crimson gaze. “I... I need to flush these hormones. It’s—fuck me,” she hissed, hips rolling toward the demon watching her writhe. “Smells so good...”
The Felidae snorted. “My sweat?”
“Your... what?” With a jolt, she flinched, tearing her gaze from his to glare at the rag in her hand with wide eyes. A sweat rag. And she’d almost... “Pheromones. It must be...”
“What?”
“Pheromones,” she repeated, gaping. “But humans can’t... we don’t—gah!” She flung the rag, as far as she could with her off hand, burrowing into the corner as heat bloomed anew in her belly. “Why would you do that? Why would you throw a rag saturated—”
“Do you ever stop talking?”
Her jaw hung slack. Heartbeat pounding at the base of her throat, behind her eyes, and between trembling thighs. “Water,” she hissed. “Now.”
A deep, sinister rumble came from the dark. Laughter. “Do not presume to give me orders, little human.”
She pulled shuddering breath between her teeth. “Listen, you fuc—”
Without warning, the feeble light dividing the room disappeared, as if the whole universe had blinked. A gasp caught in the back of her altered throat before the light returned—and with it, two gray mystery bars were tumbling to the floor.
She glanced at the tiny window. So that was it, then. There was no need to open that door until their conditions were met. Breed or die.
The Felidae hadn’t moved. Merely continued to watch her, cloaked in silence once more.
She should eat. She should give herself something to think of other than the slippery tension building in her core. Other than the hopeless urge to reach between her legs and find relief, knowing the Felidae princeling would be watching. Maybe wouldn’t be able to help doing the same, for if Felidae mating relied upon pheromones like those lingering on her fingers... surely he could smell it? Surely he could smell the slick, swollen heat splitting her in two?
Pressing thumb and forefinger into her eyes until stars exploded behind the lids, she hugged her injured arm closer. Muscles tightening in her abdomen. Back bowing as her pelvis tilted forward. The salt and tang of Felidae still fresh on her lips. On her tongue. Panting, she hugged her injured shoulder, blending pain and the flutter of denial until she couldn’t distinguish the two.
This was nothing. A simple reaction to a chemical. Nothing more.
No reason to unfold stiff legs and force them to hold her weight in spite of the trembling and dizziness.
Certainly no call to stumble toward the light, one arm pressed between pebbled breasts, the other drifting... lower. Finding sparse, coarse hair damp to the touch.
“Stop.”
She blinked.
Blinked again, blurry gaze finding her cellmate straining at the limit of his bonds. Motionless, but for the hint of his tail lashing through the light. “I...” She shook her head, lips parted, eyes tracing his shadow. The expanse of naked, toned flesh.
“Stop,” the Felidae rasped again, voice distorted by the collar. “Not another step.”
Fingers slipping lower still, she whined, stumbling forward. “I... I can’t...”
“Control yourself, you foul, mindless beast!” he snarled, tearing at his collar. Eyes fixed to her left hand as it disappeared between her legs, finding no resistance. Fingers skating through soaked folds. A cloud of breath escaped his lips as he watched, muscles bulging against the restraints. “You are repulsive,” he
rasped, gripping himself by the root. “Weak. Fragile. You can’t handle a single night in this prison, let alone a true Felidae mating—” he grunted, fist working just out of sight. The tinkle of chains a soundtrack to that which she could not truly see.
A tiny sound bubbled at the back of her throat, watching as the tip of a swollen cock bobbed at the edge of the shadows. Mesmerized by the flash of pumping fist. The shine of wetness at his tip. She licked her lips, mouth watering, gliding closer.
“Lord Naja thinks he can make my kind more manageable,” the Felidae hissed, shifting, giving her a flash of lean, muscular thigh. “Thinks diluting the bloodlines with—” he grunted, hips jerking, “—an inferior species will create warriors too weak and stupid to defy him. You are the perfect, obedient candidate, aren’t you, little genius? An ambassador for your entire worthless species.” Teeth bared, that crimson gaze lingered upon her working fingers. “You accept their extinction with a hand buried in your cunt.”
Whimpering, she did as he bade, sending two fingers deeper. Squeezing with silken muscles.
“Fine!” he snarled—truly snarled. Voice the deep, rattling roar of a beast denied, fighting his chains one-handed. Filling the chill air with the intoxicating scent of sweat and fury. “Come to me, breeder. Forget freedom. Condemn your people to Naja’s cruelty, and kneel. Submit to the rut like the brainless class six you are.”
“Noooo,” she whined, tearing her gaze from the extraordinary display of masculinity. Staring into the light—blinding herself to everything but the sound and scent of a Felidae male.
“You cannot help yourself,” he hissed, chains rattling as he reached for her. The quiet rasp of fist on cock setting the pace as her fingers plunged deeper, stroking the tension higher. “You’re not strong enough to resist a Felidae heat.”
“Fuck you,” she breathed. But her thumb brushed that swollen nub, betraying her. Making her voice splinter and knees buckle. She landed with thighs spread, striking the concrete with a dull thud. Jostling her wounded shoulder, yet unable to slow the furious pace building between her legs.
Alien Alphas: Twenty-Three Naughty Sci-Fi Romance Novellas Page 112