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

by Grace Goodwin

  “You’re going to come, aren’t you, little genius?” he rasped, voice a breathy purr.

  “Oh, god. Noo...”

  “Coming won’t be enough. I have the only thing that can satisfy that needy little pussy. Come to me, slut. Crawl for it.”

  “No!” Spine bending, she screamed, wrenching her hand free from twitching, desperate flesh. Rolling, laying herself out flat on the frigid, damp concrete in spite of the pain lancing through her shoulder, she embraced it with eyes squeezed shut.

  He bellowed, chains tinkling, though she couldn’t bear to open her eyes. Couldn’t bear to watch if he was spilling Felidae seed on the disgusting floor, or denying himself as she had. No, she simply lay there, trembling, skin slick with sweat. Fingers soaked in pussy. Thighs spread to reveal drooling, desperate cunt hovering on the edge of release. She could do nothing but breathe, mind an empty buzz until her cellmate quieted.

  “How?” she whispered, heart pounding in tight, swollen clit. Sending ripples over her abdomen. “How can it possibly get worse than this? I... I almost...” She shook her head. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

  He grunted, and for a moment, she was sure he’d spoken his quota for the day and had withdrawn into sulky silence once more. Leaving her to be serenaded by the drip drip drip of that infernal leaky tap.

  “It’s the rut,” he said at length, chains scraping on the floor, heading toward the furthest wall. Furthest from her. “When a Felidae couple decides they’re ready to—” he cleared the rasp from his throat, “—procreate, the female allows herself to go into heat, which in turn triggers her mate.”

  “Autonomous birth control,” she whispered, clinging to his words and the cold seeping into her skin. Eyes squeezed shut, breathing through the knotted muscles and twitching, engorged flesh. “Fascinating.”

  “Until then, sex is purely for—”

  “No.” She lifted her head, teeth bared, fighting the image of slapping, sweaty flesh. Of stretching and fullness. Bruises and fingerprints. “Don’t—don’t tell me about... about that. Just... glaze over the fun bits, please. I... I need clinical. Give me facts. Facts aren’t... they’re not sexy... and...” She stopped, hips tilting, sinking her nails into her palm until they bent under the force.

  “Felidae procreation is initiated by pheromones. Unless the male is... triggered accordingly, neither couple can... produce offspring.”

  “No test tube babies without a rut,” she breathed, forcing her muscles to relax. To sink into the cold beneath overheated skin.

  He snorted, chains shifting. “Without the... match to the hormones in your blood, your... condition will only worsen until resistance isn’t possible.”

  “Cool it with the ego, big guy,” she breathed, flicking her wrist at him. “I have no problem resisting you. Obviously. I just came over here for—” she peeled her lids apart, casting about, “—food. Are these edible?” she asked, spotting the mystery bars and collecting the closer of the pair.

  “They are.”

  “Good,” she breathed, breaking her bar in half.

  “They contain the perfect nutritional profile to support the early stages of pregnancy, and—”

  Laughing, she dropped the bar, slinging her forearm over her eyes. “And they’re laced with enough hormones to make even you palatable?”

  “They’re laced with my genetic match, so...”

  “Cocksuckers! No food. No water, and no way out. Oh,” she added, shivering, “and the service in this place is truly awful. Negative three out of a hundred stars, would recommend.”

  “I’ll eat both.”

  Head flopping to the side, she peered into the dark, eyebrow raised.

  “Female hormones won’t affect me,” he said. “And I’ll need to be able to fight when you get that door open.”

  She blinked, tilting her head back until his eyes caught the spider’s light.

  “You’ll be worthless in battle, of course. Sickly, skinny thing that you are. Truly repulsive.”

  She grinned, hauling battered frame to a wobbly stand. “So you’ve said. Repeatedly.” Stooping with right hand tangled in her hair, she collected the nutrient-dense meal bars. “Who knows, maybe consuming a double dose of female hormones will make you less of an abrasive cameltoe, but I won’t hold my breath.”

  “What... what the fuck gibberish is that?”

  “Earthling humor,” she said and tossed his meal into the dark, then retreated to her cold, lonely corner to listen to him chew in sync with the drip. “You’d have to be a genius to get it.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Ughhhh,” she groaned, teeth chattering as she tried to find a warmer position. Rubbing at prickly skin with her strong hand. “It’s okay. Shivering is good. It’s not really bad until the shivering stops. And good news, I’m too cold to even think about smashing fun bits.”

  “You were serious?” he asked, red eyes flashing. “Humans are vulnerable to the cold?”

  “Yep. If my core temperature drops below a certain threshold, that’ll be that. But I’ve heard freezing to death is pleasant, after all your nerves die and you can’t feel your fingers turning black.”

  He snorted. “Pathetic. And the temperature has only just begun to drop, little genius.”

  “Oh. Great. You know,” she rasped, teeth chattering, “I think I’d like to lodge a formal complaint with the management of this fine establishment. Kallp has a long way to go in terms of organizing a proper breeding program. Where’s my romantic lighting? Pretty, eye-catching clothes? And I’m all for a little aphrodisiac to get things going, but lacing our food is tacky and predictable. Lame super villain shit. Really kills the magic of the moment, you know?” She tucked her knees closer to her chest, ignoring the way the concrete pulled at her skin. Hinting at temperatures dropping below freezing. “And I wouldn’t complain about a space heater, truth be told.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “If I had the energy, I’d muster up a really great attitude about your snide commentary, buddy, but—” she shrugged, “—I’m too cold. Just shut up and let me die in peace.”

  “Do something about it, lazy beast.”

  Forehead pressed to knees, she laughed without lifting her gaze. “Oh? Like what?”

  “Pushups, to start. Keep the blood moving so your ass doesn’t freeze to the floor.”

  And then she did lift her head. “Uh, dislocated shoulder, remember? Thanks to you?”

  “That hasn’t healed yet?” he asked, voice unguarded for the first time since they’d met. Surprised.

  “No,” she returned, frowning. “It could take a few months to return to full strength, if I’m lucky. Felidae heal much faster than that, do they?”

  “How the fuck did you manage to take down a Golem?”

  She grinned. “I’m a genius, remember? Girl’s gotta have her secrets.”

  The Felidae snorted, chains dragging as he approached their border. “Come here, little genius.”

  “Uh...”

  She felt him roll his eyes. “Still thirsty?”

  “Yes.” She brushed the spider with her knuckles, suppressing the shudder. “But—”

  “Then come here,” he said, voice a deep, rumbling purr. Tugging in all sorts of naughty places she was supposed to be ignoring. “I’d throw it, but you have terrible night vision for a mammal. Truly appalling.”

  “I don’t—wait. Night vision? Now we have to get out of here. I have great boobs, but you’re not watching me use the facilities, you weird little creep.”

  He chuffed. Just the once, but the bizarre sound reverberated deep in her chest, pulling her to her feet without further protest or snark—for curiosity sake, if nothing else.

  One arm clinging to her hair, the other belatedly covering her breasts, she limped to the light. “Well?”

  “Closer,” he purred, tail lashing.

  She took another half-step, weight balanced on the balls of her feet. Ready to spring back. Tempted
to stay.

  “Hold out your hand.”

  “Uh, you do know what water is, right?” she asked, extending her functional arm. “I can’t hold it—”

  Faster than she could follow, the Felidae princeling had her. Strong, hot fingers wrapped around her wrist, trapping bones that felt hollow and oh so breakable in his grip. But he did nothing with his power, simply unfolded her clenched fist with thick, callused fingers. “A drink for the genius who forgot water has more than one state.”

  “Ice.” He’d dropped an ice spike in her outstretched hand, then released her. The contrast of his touch with the cold fire in her palm sent gooseflesh prickling every inch of her exposed nudity while she stood there, blinking. “Ice.”

  “Astute,” he said, canines flashing in the gloom.

  The dripping faucet hadn’t been spite. No, he’d been upholding his end of their bargain—brilliantly. She wrapped chilled fingers around the spike, and, legs folding beneath her, she sat. Careful of the hidden blade, heedless of the distant, muted throb tugging away the shreds of her sanity. “Thank you,” she whispered, huddled on the border.

  As expected, the sentiment was met with silence, though she felt his gaze as clearly as she felt his fingers lingering on hers.

  She forced a smile, even when the icicle stuck to her skin instead of melting it. “You know I can’t get that door open, right?”

  “They’ll tire of waiting for results eventually.”

  “In what, a couple of days?” She glanced up, meeting blood-red eyes.

  “All you have to do,” he said, dragging his chains into the shadows, “is set me free before that happens. I’ll do the rest.”

  She nodded. “I believe that. And the icicle is... it’s fucking genius, actually—and I would know. But...” She swallowed around the spider, hardly bothering to notice it. “If it gets much colder than this, I won’t make the night. Even if I do,” she continued, picking at the ice shaft with numb forefinger, “this isn’t going to work. Ice will sit in my stomach, thereby forcing my core temperature to drop as my body works to melt it, which will cause hypothermia and eventually kill me. On the other hand, if I can’t flush these hormones from my system...” She laughed, pressing the inside of her wrist to her hairline, still clutching the icicle. “Without liquid water, I’ll die in a few days. Maybe less, if I don’t freeze first.”

  He settled against the furthest wall with a sigh. “So fragile...”

  She snorted. “Yeah. Safe to assume I’m not getting out alive. But don’t get all weepy on me or anything, you big softy. This sort of thing is supposed to be done with a lot of stern, knowing eye contact.”

  “What in the nine planes of existence are you babbling about?”

  “I don’t want to die in the cold,” she whispered, unable to maintain eye contact after all. “Alone. I know it’s stupid and weak and a betrayal of the human race, or whatever, but they’re not here.” Decision made, she stood, leaving the icicle behind. “You are.”

  Unblinking silence was her only answer.

  “I’d like to change the terms of our agreement.”

  “We don’t have an—”

  “I will not become an experiment,” she said, cutting him off, passing the point of no return. “Promise me that mercy, and I’ll free you right now,” she whispered, committing. Swallowed by darkness. “Make it quick, if it comes to it. Painless, if you can.”

  “You’re giving up.”

  She smiled at the revulsion in his voice, taking slow, even steps. “No. I just know the limits of the human body. And I don’t like being cold.”

  “Pathetic creature.”

  “I’m not the one cowering in the corner, buddy.”

  He scoffed. “I’ve met infants more terrifying than you.”

  “Ah,” she breathed, almost before him. “And there lies my greatest weapon. The element of surprise.”

  “You talk too much to surprise anyone.”

  “That so?” she asked, strong hand traveling to the deadly bun sitting high atop her head.

  “It’s incessant. You literally haven’t stopped since—”

  With her forefinger, she pinched the blade of the scalpel and pulled.

  “The fuck?” he breathed, lurching toward her as the scalpel glittered in the dull light between them, her hair warming the tops of her shoulders.

  “You were saying?” she asked, close enough to see the ring between his pupil and iris, close enough to watch the gap narrow as he stood there. Motionless. “Your chains have these tiny pins I should be able to pull with this,” she said. “Checked before I locked you up, and I could be wrong but...” She lifted her strong shoulder. “Worth a shot, right? We got a deal?”

  “As if I would ever make a deal with a sub-par species like yours,” he rasped, and, canines flashing in the dark, he seized her wrist. Pulling her just close enough to feel the heat radiating off his chest. “You’ve given up your leverage, little genius. I command you to release me now.”

  “Or suffer dire, painful consequences? Please,” she said, stepping closer. “Admit how impressed you are with my unrelenting intelligence and have a seat. I seem to recall having a surgeon’s touch, but—” She shivered, untangling stiff fingers from matted locks and placing her right hand on his chest. “My dominant hand isn’t really playing along right now—”

  “You dare give me orders?” he snarled, spinning them both, pressing her back to the wall and trapping her bladed hand in an unbreakable grip. Breath searing her cheeks, lips ghosting the fine hairs on her forehead, her Felidae vibrated beneath her palm. Cupping the back of her neck, he pinned her immobile. Maintaining the distance between human and Felidae. “You dare to lay your filthy little hands on me as if you stand equal?”

  And then the self-proclaimed genius did the craziest thing she’d done since waking in the great nuclear holocaust of all nightmares.

  She smiled.

  Not a grin meant to goad, or sarcasm’s smirk. A true smile bloomed across her cracked lips, for here—trapped by a Felidae warrior in the armpit of the universe—she felt no pain. Twice her weight in muscle and schooled in destruction, yet he took care to cushion her head and protect her damaged shoulder? What could be crushed was cradled, fingers rough and gentle all at once.

  Her demon was bluffing.

  “Stop me,” she whispered, spreading her fingers over the heart pounding beneath her palm. “You reject my touch, but make no effort to end it.”

  A growl rattled through his chest, eyes blazing from within.

  “You can break me without trying,” she continued, letting her right hand skate lower, tracing the lines and ridges. Making dips and valleys jump beneath her touch. “It would be nothing to do so, but you’ve never felt a hand as soft as mine. Have you?”

  The growl deepened, rattle becoming more pronounced. A dire warning ignored.

  “Tell me what you want,” she breathed, wetting dry lips. Mere millimeters from tasting the forbidden. From touching it.

  “This—” He swallowed, shaking his head with teeth bared. “You are obscene.”

  “Mhm. An abomination. Absolutely repulsive.” She grinned into that scarlet gaze, arching to close the gap. Pointed nipples brushed his chest, lips finding his as her fingers found their prize. “And so fucking wet.”

  His breath hissed between clenched teeth, hips bucking as he filled her lungs and palm with heat. With a ragged curse, he released her. Abandoning his hold on wrist and throat. “On your knees,” he snarled, chains rattling at his side.

  Mouth watering, she obeyed, circling thumb and forefinger. The scalpel clattering to the floor, forgotten for the treat throbbing before her. She licked him, root to tip, pumping his girth. Gathering the nirvana beaded at the head of his cock with the flat of her tongue.

  His voice splintered on a startled gasp, and he buried thick fingers in her hair. Denying her.

  “Please. I just want—”

  Their lips met with bruising force as he pressed her
back. Lower lip pinched between his teeth. Nails scraping her scalp, he guided her down, laying her flat on something soft.

  “Fucking hell,” she rasped, giving the pitifully thin pad beneath her an exploratory wiggle. “Is this a mattress?”

  He exhaled, red gaze following jiggling flesh. “What?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me! All this time you’re over here living the high life with a mattress? Why didn’t you say anything?”

  For a moment, he didn’t respond. Simply hovered, braced on his knees, breath hot and damp against her lips. “It’s... woefully inadequate. Even for a measly class six.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  With a snort, he silenced her. Lips and tongue exploring. The heavy length of his cock throbbing above her mound.

  “Please,” she groaned, parting her knees. Reveling in Felidae heat, inside and out. “I... I need it.”

  Teeth flashing, he pinned her throat, dousing the spider’s light beneath his palm. Blinding her, without threatening her airway. He spread her, then. Lifting her hips. Settling her lower back on his thighs, legs and pussy splayed. Lewd. Utterly vulnerable to his attentions. Though when he sent fingers gliding through slick folds, it was his breath ragged against her lips.

  “There,” she gasped, bucking when he found her clit. “Right there, ugh. Please.”

  His chest rumbled, and, thumb circling, he set the blunt head of his dick to weeping cunt. Soaking himself in human pussy. Redoubling his attention on her neglected little nub when she arched, her hips twitching and bucking of their own accord. Clasping at his tip. Desperate to pull him in.

  “Oh, fuck. Oh, god—please, please don’t stop. Don’t stop. I’m—” Muscles seizing, she flinched, gushing. Riding what little he’d give her as she came hard and fast with his hand about her throat.

  “Good girl,” he purred, and shifted, allowing her to see once more. To watch as he rode her through climax, fucking her with tiny, rocking thrusts. “Again.”

  She shook her head, as of yet unable to form words.

  Teeth bared in the dark, he grinned. “Again.”