Alien Romance: The Barbarian's Owned: Scifi Alien Abduction Romance (Alien Romance, Alien Invasion Romance, BBW) (Celestial Mates Book 1)

by Marla Therron

  Garr eased her into his lap, and she sat in the cradle of his body, only realizing with her arms were at rest how spent they were. She exhaled, rubbing at her wrists.

  “You planning to carry me?” she muttered, embarrassed. Climbing was something she could actually do, and not reaching the ledge on her own bothered her.

  “You’ll do it once you’ve rested.” His hands were free because of how he was tethered, and one held onto her waist. It was a secure feeling.

  She eased into him, his body a natural cup for her own. “Just so you know, I’m still mad at you.”

  He brushed a lock of her wavy hair from her face, behind her ear, and kissed the sweltering skin of her neck. But the brisk wind cooled her, so that soon she was comfortable with his heat so close.

  She could also feel him becoming aroused, since she was seated firmly against him. He was stiffening and, in spite of it being him, it embarrassed her. “I told you before. I like your anger. I like your passion.”

  She realized they’d been in this position before. Every time Garr grabbed hold of her—in the pool, on the precipice that night he first slept against her, and even now—he always slipped behind her.

  And it’s from behind that they take their mates. That was why he liked holding her like this. It was so close to having her in that position on all fours that made her belong to him forever. Probably why, he was getting hard, too.

  The fact that just being there on his lap was driving him mad gave Rae a thrill of power. “What are you thinking?” she asked, though she already knew.

  “What do you mean?”

  A shiver worked up her spine at his words, so close to her ear and so low she could feel the vibrations of his deep voice in his chest. His voice did it for her every time.

  “You’re imagining me on all fours, aren’t you?” She realized that bizarre fusion of anger and arousal had only intensified since earlier in the day. She liked torturing him up here in the sky, where he couldn’t do anything about it

  He kissed her shoulder and tasted the salt on her body. “Just taking you from behind wouldn’t count.”

  “Figured,” she said, shifting, knowing it applied pressure to his hardening cock.

  His body stiffened and she knew she’d done it right.

  “What you really want,” she teased, “is to have me beneath you. Not on top, but bent for you—putting myself on display and inviting you to enjoy me all at once.” She accented the final word with a purposeful roll of her hips that would more brazenly stimulate him.

  He groaned, as though finally understanding her game. “You’re a devil.”

  “Do you hate me?” she asked, rolling her hips a second time, undulating in a way that made her feel his full, thick length through their pants.

  “I—I couldn’t hate you, it—”

  She settled more weight into her shoulders so that, with her core strength, she could control how much pressure and friction she gave his hard-on. “Not even a little?” she cooed, the roll and flick of her hips tormenting him. Remembering how sensitive his markings were, and that he had tiny circles under his ears, she arched her back at a sufficient degree that she could strain and slip her head to the side of his. She could just barely kiss that dark circle below his ear.

  His growl was arousal and frustration distilled into one feral sound, and both his paws clamped to her hips to take possession of her movements. “Oh yes. I hate you now. Happy?”

  “Thoroughly.” She settled into him, relaxing now that she’d made him feel even a piece of what she did.

  But his hands tightened their grip. “I’m not done with you.”

  She laughed. “Look at where we are, big guy.” She gestured all around. “We’re done.”

  His cavalier chuckle made her stomach tighten—and his hands tapping her otoya made her heart leap. Her pants turned liquid, and so did his—she’d forgotten about that.

  Just like that, the fabric parted, so that she no longer wore pants but something more akin to tight, thigh-high stockings. And his merely parted, so that when his hands slid around, between her thighs, he took hold of his erection and slid it from behind, between her thighs, letting it brush her slick core.

  “Oh.” She felt him between her thighs, having not realized how wet and ready she’d become while teasing him. Every stroke brushed the soft, mushroomed head against her clitoris, making her tense up. “Garr, isn’t this dangerous?”

  “Arousing your mate on a cliff is dangerous,” he said, the gentle pump of his hips teasing her folds. He’d get her off if he kept it up much longer.

  Instead, he eased off the gyrations and slid powerful hands down to her hips, her thighs, massaging her weak legs and teasing his fingers near her sex, but not yet touching her. “You’re still angry at me?”

  “Yes.” She groaned, the sleek motion of his shaft sorely missed. She was trying to figure out how to get it back.

  “You’re angry because your body knows what your heart hasn’t learned yet,” he taunted.

  She tried to reach for his erection, knowing if she got hold of him, she could settle atop him—maybe even push him into her. “And what is it my body knows?”

  His powerful arm gripped her wrist, not letting her take hold of him. “That you’re going to stay.” With his other hand, he stroked between her thighs, using one long and electrifying touch to brush her clitoris.

  She sucked in a breath, rigid and squeezing her eyes shut. “Smug, arrogant bastard.”

  But he was stroking her now, making those brisk, circular motions she’d witnessed through his whisking the night before—a relentless attack on the center of her pleasure that had her hips jerking up into his fingers. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, but couldn’t speak.

  She opened her mouth to tell him off, but instead felt his experienced hands bring her aroused body off, and the tirade transformed in her throat into moans.

  They echoed off the cliff walls. She came in his arms, shuddering while his fingers changed pace into long, languid strokes that extended her orgasm until she trembled atop him.

  “Still mad?”

  “Furious,” she panted, body flush and nipples hard, scraping on that confining bra with every up-and-down of her ribcage.

  “Admit you want me, and I’ll touch you again.”

  She should have been satisfied, but she wasn’t. She didn’t want just his fingers. She wanted to lick, kiss, and tongue with him—to feel his teeth scrape her, to mount him and ride him into a state of bliss, and to feel his riotous pulse through their joined bodies. But two can play this game.

  “How about I’ll just touch you for a change.” She dragged a fingernail up the markings on his wrist, along his forearm, and to the dark circle at the inner crook of his elbow.

  “Taliyar,” he moaned. He was still rock-hard and in a state of total arousal. Her touch had drawn out a raw ache so deep that his need was more than physical—when he’d spoken that word, it had been a spiritual call.

  “You want me to be yours?” she asked softly. “You want me to present to you, to give you myself totally?”

  “Yes,” he pleaded.

  In her present state, the idea sounded almost delicious. She’d never done that sexual position before, but with Garr, she wanted it; and the fact that giving it to him would bind them forever only added to the eroticism.

  Yet she knew it wouldn’t happen unless he also surrendered on one critical thing: “Then admit you belong to me, too,” she whispered, stroking the circle at his inner elbow once more, shifting to peer up at his reaction.

  His eyes flew wide. “What?” The shock hadn’t diminished his panting arousal, nor his erection. “I’m your prime, I—”

  She dared to close her thighs around his erection, socketing it against her slit, so that when she moved her hips, it stroked his full length. The pleasure cut him off, choked away his voice, and she remembered how the dark ley lines of his body also include markings on his cock.

  Waiting for
his eyes to open, she met his gaze from over her shoulder. “You may be prime, but if you want to own my body, I want to own yours too. That’s how it works with humans.”

  Was she really offering herself to him? Agreeing to stay if he’d only love her like a human?

  His chest rose and fell, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

  Rae reached down between her thighs and circled the dark ring around the head of his erection with her light touch. “Belonging to one another isn’t so bad if you just—”

  He seized her wrist, aghast.

  Had she done something wrong? Glancing at his hand, which dragged hers from touching him, she assessed his arousal. He was still hard, still hungry. But he hadn’t been prepared for that simple touch. “What’s wrong?”

  “You—you cannot just touch a male like that.”

  She guffawed. “Why not? You’re touching me like that.” She wanted to respect his wishes, of course, but it seemed absurd.

  “It’s… females don’t do this. It’s forbidden.”

  Rae blinked, having not realized how their society’s gender segregation extended to sex. The “men care for women” role mattered even in the bedroom.

  He could pleasure her, or take pleasure from taking charge of her body, but for her to be on top and give pleasure to him caused him to react like a frightened Victorian.

  “So,” she teased, upset and amused and maybe a little vindictive all at once, “You finger me, but my fingers are blasphemy?” She wriggled her evil fingers at him.

  He swallowed. It was strange for him to be so clearly intimidated by something as simple as the touch of a feminine hand to his clearly-tuned-up body.

  Rae sighed. She was still ready-and-eager, and his reasons were stupid ones, but his discomfort was real. Mutually enjoyable hate-sex was one thing, but she’d upset him. Shutting her eyes, she said, “We should keep climbing.”

  “I agree.” The hesitancy in his voice made her wonder if for the first time he was having second thoughts about taking her as his mate.

  Indeed, their worlds seemed more irreconcilable than ever.

  Chapter Twelve

  They crept along the ledge that wrapped behind the waterfall, each step intensifying the tingling sensation in Rae’s heart. She glanced over her shoulder, Garr’s focus on the treacherous path instead of her—though she sensed beneath it all he was brooding.

  Perhaps Rae should have been happy. He was on the path toward accepting their fundamental incompatibility.

  Besides, since she’d not submitted to him and was non-Ythirian, he could have an “out” and find a more traditional mate someday.

  In spite of the fact all these thoughts should have made Rae feel better, none did. Garr was miserable; so was she.

  The mist from the falls flecked her skin in beads of water, dampening and somewhat straightening her wavy hair. They passed through the wet into a shadowy cavern behind the falls, illuminated on three sides by what sunlight could push through curtains of bottle-green water.

  The alcove was dressed in blue moss, and recessed further in was an ancient, circular door of metal with runic markings. Intuitively—no doubt from Kaython’s meddling—she could read the runes.

  They said, “SECTOR 47-B ACCESS.”

  “What is this?” Rae wondered.

  “It can’t be,” Garr murmured. “Why would Kaython bring us here, of all places? This is one of the Skorvag’s hatching sites.”

  “The Skorvag was built by people?”

  “By Ythirians, so many cycles ago that time has forgotten when it first began.”

  “Could Kaython want me to go in there?”

  He shook his head. “Impossible. It is forbidden.”

  And yet the urgency in the electric sensation at her center grew, until she felt drawn to the portal. “Maybe it’s not forbidden for humans.” She approached the door, and noticed it had been recently scraped clean of moss. What did that mean?

  “I don’t like this,” Garr whispered.

  She grinned over her shoulder at him. “Of course not. Because if Kaython brought a human here because I’m immune to the rules that forbid people inside the hatching site, it might also mean she never intended me to be your mate.”

  She hadn’t meant to hurt him, but those words pierced Garr. The confidence in his face for the first time faltered. The words had been flippant on her part, but they took the huge alien’s knees out from under him.

  Sighing, Rae slunk back to Garr and set one hand on his giant forearm. He flinched from her touch, but Rae stepped forward and instead rested her palm on his shoulder, waiting until he looked down at her.

  “Hey, relax. Whatever Kaython wants, I’m sure it’s for the best.” She wasn’t absolutely sure, of course, but the words seemed right.

  He shook his head, as though to dispel all doubts. “Whatever the case, you’ll stay.” Back to that soaring confidence—or perhaps a semblance of it. She’d eroded his foundations and now he was clinging hard to his fantasies.

  That would have to be a conversation for another day. She turned back to the door and wondered how to open it, when she spotted a keypad with ten keys.

  Their markings had long worn off, but she assumed it was from a base 10 numbering system. She tried hovering fingers over individual keys.

  “What are you doing?” Garr asked.

  “Waiting for Kaython to make me ticklish. If she wants me in the forbidden room, she can show me the combination.” Indeed, each time the tingle returned, she pressed the key she was on.

  After punching in a four-digit combination, the circular door hissed and sucked inward two feet, then rolled to the side.

  Air moved beyond the doorway. Lights flicked on and illuminated a short corridor. There was no organic plant tech; this hallway was built through traditional manufacturing, not a Skorvag.

  Garr seized her arm. “Wait. There could be danger.”

  “You’re not allowed to follow me. So unless Kaython’s ordering you inside, you need to let me go.” She didn’t want to play the “trust your goddess” card, so she tried another: “Trust me.”

  He studied her, the entryway, and then her again. “You’re right.”

  It felt nice to hear him say it. “Of course I am. I’m ridiculously smart, remember?”

  “Ridiculously?”

  “I should terrify you.” She reached up to stroke his square jaw. “I’ll be fine.”

  He took her fingertips and kissed them. “Be careful.”

  “I’ll come running back the second I find something evil in there that wants to eat me. Promise.”

  Turning to face the dimly lit corridor, Rae summoned her courage and stepped through the entrance and into Ythir’s ancient history.

  ***

  The corridor took her to a command chamber that served as an observation post at the top of a larger, underground facility. Glass panels in the floors and walls overlooked recessed laboratories, some of which had rows of canisters and equipment that were more reminiscent of manufacturing and engineering than pure science.

  The command post had a dozen computer stations. Each one used a holographic projector as its display and the operating system let her switch or pan through screens with taps or simple gestures with her hands and fingers. For a smart phone user, it was fairly intuitive.

  When she brought lights up on the recessed labs below, she noted how right she’d been about manufacturing. The tubes she’d seen looked like a series of mason jars of varying sizes, ranging from a foot tall to large enough to hold a city bus.

  She could understand Ythirian and they were labeled as “birthing wombs.” When she cracked her first data file and saw the familiar double helix of DNA structures, Rae put it together.

  “It’s a genetics lab.” Of course it was—the Skorvag was designed here. It was a facility whose central purpose was to create life-forms, particularly those that merged organic and inorganic nanotech compounds.

  Rae sprinted to the cave’s mouth to
relay these facts to Garr: “It’s a genetic engineering lab!” She burst from the tunnel and threw her arms happily around him, overjoyed.

  He caught her by the hips, spinning her full circle before setting her down. “That is… good?”

  “Good? That is my dream! It’s still operational. It’s got… oh my God. I could make dinosaurs!”

  Truth told, wanting a pet dinosaur was sixty percent of her interest in genetics. She’d wanted one since she was six. Pausing a moment, glancing into the dim corridor, she added, “I mean, I’m not sure the DNA is on file, or if I’m allowed to make a dinosaur. But I want to.”

  “So make a dinosaur,” Garr said with a shrug, like it was no big thing.

  She gawped up at him. “Seriously?”

  “Kaython led you here. If she didn’t want you to make a dinosaur, why bring you?”

  “But… you’re the prime. You’re supposed to convince me that science is evil.” This was his role—science fiction always included someone to warn about the evils of tampering with the forces of nature. “What if my creations go on a rampage?”

  He shrugged. “If they do, I’ll just kill them.” He slammed his fist into his palm. “Then you can try again.”

  Holy shit, I think my not-quite-boyfriend just gave me a genetics lab. She turned back toward it. “Stay here. I need to… I don’t know. Smell it again.” She sprinted back inside.

  In the command chamber, she sorted through files in search of an explanation for the Skorvag. Maybe a history lesson would catch her up on why Kaython wanted her in here.

  Video logs played, with ancient Ythirians on the screen. They were smaller—maybe even smaller than humans—with light-blue skin. The journals from their lab director caught Rae up while she picked through their genetic profiles, flabbergasted that they had so much DNA for Earth creatures.

  Somehow, the Skorvag had monitored Earth even before the portals brought Garr to her home world. They’d been updating the genetic profiles in these labs throughout the ages, and Rae found species extending back to before the K-T extinction.

  There was dinosaur DNA all right. She was giddy.