Decorated: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Rebels of Sidyth Book 2.5)

by Sabrina Kade

  Decorated

  Rebels of Sidyth

  It’s Christmas Eve night, and the lights are shining bright.

  Aliens understand what packages in boxes are, right?

  Sabrina Kade

  https://sabrinakade.wordpress.com/

  https://www.facebook.com/sabrinakadeauthor/

  https://www.amazon.com/author/sabrinakade

  Copyright ©2018 by Sabrina Kade

  Cover Illustration by Rebeca Covers

  Typography & formatting by Sabrina Kade

  Editing services provided by Moonlight Proofreading

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Purchased

  CHAPTER ONE

  Guarded

  CHAPTER ONE

  Promised

  CHAPTER ONE

  DEDICATION

  Author Notes – Sabrina Kade

  CHAPTER ONE

  York

  “Tell me more about the claws.”

  “The what?” I grab hold of my ever-growing stomach and peer at Azan who’s watching me with an excited expression. “Babe, you’ve got to stop doing that.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Looking at me like every day I’m still pregnant is the greatest day of your life.”

  “But it is.”

  I roll my eyes as Azan helps me sit up and face the mouth of the cave, taking his familiar seat behind me and wrapping his arms around my stomach. “You’re crazy.” Still, I press my back into his chest, enjoying how built my alien is, and how wonderful the silence is. Almost every night since Chentan’s declared I’m with child, Azan walks me out to our cave because of how happy it makes me. We make love (only because he’s nervous about fucking), we listen to the rain, we talk, we fall asleep, we wake up, we make love and start again. Not a bad schedule.

  Today though, I’m shocked by Azan’s choice of conversation.

  “What claws?”

  “The man with the package.” Azan brushes scaled fingertips across my tummy. I shiver against him but try to remain focused. “You mentioned there is a man with claws at the Christmas? He brings his package to good boys and girls?”

  I blink, trying to figure out what the hell he’s talking about and almost burst out laughing. “Oh… God! Azan, that’s not it at all.” I turn around in his grasp, smiling at him.

  “You must explain this to me. Thanks to the last delivery, I have discovered this holiday is in December. And on Earth, that is the current time. It seemed only appropriate to learn more about the holiday so I could celebrate it with you.”

  I freeze. “You want to celebrate Christmas with me?”

  Azan shrugs, and it’s such an adorable look on his massive frame that I have to pinch my thighs together so I don’t get aroused. It’s hard enough to keep it together when he’s around, and apparently, I’m one of those women who wants sex around the clock when they’re knocked up. Plus, my alien drips with sex appeal and… I have to stop. Otherwise, I’m afraid I’m going to end up with a dick in a box in a few weeks, care of Azan.

  “Okay, listen. I’ll tell you a little about Christmas, but I don’t want you to go crazy. Human holiday traditions are kind of confusing if you don’t know a lot about our customs.”

  Azan nods, but it’s clear I’ve already lost him.

  No matter what I tell him, this is going to be a Christmas like I’ve never experienced before.

  There better not be a dick in a box.

  Still, as Blythe would say, things could be a lot worse. Hethdiss – a rainy planet full of exiled Sidyths – may sound horrible on paper, but so far, it’s proven to be quite the opposite. We’re not living in our own shit thanks to exiled Prince Korben, and despite living underground, I don’t have too many complaints because thanks to my mate, I’m able to go to the surface whenever I please.

  And my mate. Azan. He’s the main reason I love being here despite still carrying the term, Human Whore. His eyes are searing when I turn to look at him, and he cups my full stomach in his massive hands, cradling the newfound curves. Even though he’s patiently waiting for me to explain the details of the holiday season, he still manages to find my breasts and kneads them a bit roughly – which I adore. My lips part, but only a moan escapes and I rise up so I can rub my ass against his hardening cock.

  Yes. Things are not too terrible on this assignment.

  His mouth brushes against my ear, and I’m still getting used to the fact that he doesn’t wear his mask all the time. My mate – for all his beauty – has massive fangs, each over six inches long, and are filled with something that looks like liquid Benadryl but’s actually poison. He has to keep them capped at all time with little objects kind of like metal shot glasses, but I don’t mind. My alien mate is beautiful. I love him.

  And I’m carrying his baby.

  “Tell me about the Christmas again,” he says thickly into my ear. “About packages for good girls.”

  “Oh! Azan!” I squeal, bursting out into laughter despite the lady boner I’m rocking below my tiny skirt. “You make it sound so freaking naughty. You do understand that package is another word for present, right? Like a gift?”

  “Is this not a gift to you?”

  As if to prove his point, he pushes his cock more deeply against the cheeks of my ass, groaning softly into my ear. My vision blurs as the throbbing muscle pushes against me, and I’m losing focus. And why shouldn’t I? Having Azan, here with me, pressing his cock into my ass is a gift. A beautiful one, at that. The scales alone are enough to make me excited, and he hasn’t even stuck that thing in me yet today.

  “York,” he hisses deeply, brushing his fangs against the upper part of my ear with each kiss.

  To this day, I still can’t believe I’m carrying an exiled Sidyth’s baby. It’s only been a few months, and I’m already showing, and Azan has been nothing, if not a perfect gentleman. And another girl who’s on this assignment and pregnant – Blythe – she’s faring off a lot worse than me. Apparently, she’s one of those chicks who sleeps the day away when pregnant, but it could be that she also drinks gessroot tea around the clock. Not me. If I drink that tea, it calms me down, yes, but it also takes away my sexual drive.

  And with a seven-foot alien with a scaled dick? The last thing I want to lose is my fucking fuck drive.

  “The Christmas presents.” Azan continues dropping heavy, heart-stopping kisses to my neck and collarbone, and though it’s all but impossible to focus, I keep going. I have to make sure he understands that Christmas has nothing to do with sex, despite everything else in our life apparently does. “You must tell me. I did what little research I could, but the holiday is complicated. I need a human’s perspective otherwise I’m afraid I’m going to do things incorrectly.”

  “If you think Santa delivers his package to good little girls and boys, I think we’re already in trouble, Azan.” I giggle again, and finally (and also dis
appointingly), Azan stops nibbling on my ear, focusing now too. My butt falls back to the ground of the cave we’re hiding out in, and we both stare out into the rain as I speak. I find it hilarious that Azan wants to learn about Christmas simply because of how much it means to me. Sidyths – have their own sets of elaborate holidays, but I know Azan does not like to talk about them because of what happens on these days.

  The Sidyth race seems to find joy in sacrificing, hunting, and murdering women. And though I don’t tell Azan because I’m sure it would upset him, I am more than well aware of some of these holidays where women are hunted and killed for sport.

  “Is it really December back on Earth?” I ask him instead, hoping he doesn’t feel my mind racing along with the downpour of rain.

  He squeezes my back up against his scaled, hard chest. “Yes. And you will be happy to know I even learned the exact day of this holiday.”

  I turn slightly and lift my chin towards his face. “And what day is that?”

  His eyebrows furrow. He knows the word, but he also knows I want him to say in English. That’s right. My alien knows the English language. And though it’s not perfect, the only thing hotter than hearing my man speak English is knowing he can speak thirty more languages. I like Sidese the second best, all the way down to the Germanic hints, but English is still my absolute favorite because it’s not perfect.

  He’s trying to make it perfect though. For me.

  And oh God, that’s so hot.

  Next to no aliens bother learning English because Earth isn’t a part of the Galactic Federation, but here’s my mate, scaled and sexy. Dangerous and poisonous, speaking broken English to prove he’s still trying to learn it.

  “It is December twenty plus five.” Azan beams proudly with a fanged smile.

  I can’t help but snicker. “Close enough. We call it December twenty-fifth.”

  “Then I shall call it that.”

  Another snicker escapes my lips. Since being with Azan, I’ve never laughed so much. I didn’t think I would laugh ever again. Human Whores aren’t supposed to laugh. They’re not supposed to have fun. They’re supposed to spread their legs because some perverted alien has paid them. They’re not supposed to find a mate in an exiled Sidyth who worships them like a Goddess because they’re carrying their offspring.

  And yet here I am. With Azan.

  “Before you begin.” Azan keeps his voice at a low rumble. “I must ask, will celebrating Christmas cause as much harm as it does enjoyment?”

  I turn around in Azan’s grasp. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Well…” his frown deepens, and he takes my face in his enormous scaled hands. “I know how much Christmas means to you because it is something you have fond memories of. With your family as well. I simply do not want you to reflect… too much…” he pauses again, choosing his words carefully, “… about things that cannot be changed.”

  I lick my lips. I swear I feel my baby shifting inside of me, as though he or she can tell his daddy is upset about hurting mommy’s feelings. Azan doesn’t need to say anymore. It’s obvious what he’s worried about. He wants to celebrate Christmas with me, but not if it’s going to cause me pain by bringing up memories of the past. Before I became a Human Whore. Before I came to Hethdiss.

  Before I became Azan’s Chosen mate.

  “Azan,” I say softly. “Christmas means a lot to me because of my family, yes, but it’s also something in the past. I’m building a here and now with you. And just as I have fond memories of Christmas with my family, I want to look back on these years and remember these moments. As they are now. With you.” I kiss him softly on one fang. “With our baby.” I kiss another fang. “Together. Building our future.”

  He smiles with each kiss, and his dick hardens against the fold under my skirt. I resist the urge to grind against him, knowing if we fuck, I’ll never be able to focus, and my greatest fear will come true. Azan will think Christmas includes a creepy old man delivering his dick to good girls in a wrapped box.

  “Tell me all you can about Christmas, and I will make it happen for you.” His golden eyes sear through mine, and he keeps his hands around my cheeks, dropping a few kisses of his own to my lips. They’re chapped, obviously a rugged man’s lips, but I don’t care, and take them greedily, moaning into his mouth. This is a man who wants to give me everything I love.

  “Promise you won’t go crazy,” I say, arching my neck so he can kiss the delicate skin coating my throat. Oh… God, that feels way too amazing. “Christmas is complicated. You may not understand everything. And you said you only have a bit of time before you have to put in another delivery order with Korben.”

  “Which is why, My Chosen One, that you must tell me now. I want to make sure I order all I can. Korben is going to participate as well. He wants to make things less difficult for his mate. The large chested one – Blythe – she is not handling being with sprog as well as you, I’m afraid. Perhaps a little of the Christmas will be good for her. Or so he reasons.” Azan pulls away. “Please let me do this, York. I have not asked for anything delivered for years. I have seen no need. But with you and my sprog,” his eyes soften and drop to my stomach, “… I want to give you everything you may miss for the holiday of Christmas.”

  “Oh… Azan,” I can’t help but sling my arms around his neck and kiss him some more. “Promise you won’t go crazy.”

  “I promise nothing except the sun, the moon, and the stars when it comes to my mate,” he hisses lowly in my ear between kisses. “Besides, like I said, this is also for Korben. You wouldn’t deny Blythe some Christmas enjoyment, would you? She is much more miserable than you.”

  My look softens. He’s not wrong. Blythe hasn’t had a good day since she got knocked up by her Sidyth prince. Maybe a little Christmas cheer on this rainy planet wouldn’t be a bad idea. And it is December on Earth, after all. Seems a bit unfair to the rest of the girls to deny the holiday season simply because I’m worried about getting a dick in a box.

  “I guess I can agree to the terms,” I say at last, moving around in Azan’s arms so I’m facing the rain again. I know full well if I keep facing him, I won’t be able to stop kissing him, and nothing will get finished. And this isn’t just about me. It’s about the other nineteen women, scattered across to lairs built under the muddy ground of Hethdiss.

  Blythe, who’s mated to the Sidyth (former?) prince. Sloane and Layla, who are either already falling for aliens, or oblivious to their advances. Ellis, who is nothing but horny for the ugliest dude here, but that’s her prerogative, not mine. The experienced Arizona, and her little crew of followers, Kansas, Dakota, and Alaska. Phoebe, who was assaulted by a Toda on the way here to Hethdiss, and who also has recently moved from the second lair to ours. The work out twins, Rene and Devyn. The stunning Lacey, who could not make it more obvious that she’s not looking for a mate. Celeste, and a few others who I haven’t gotten to know. For all of us, Christmas may be a good idea.

  Something familiar in a universe full of unfamiliar.

  Azan’s fingers curl around the lower part of my stomach as the rain shifts from a drizzle to a downpour, and I inhale deeply. I love the smell of Hethdiss. The air reminds me so much of bergamot and sage leaves, two of my mom’s favorite scents to diffuse during the day. It’s still amazing to be here, with Azan, carrying his baby. My life can’t possibly get any better.

  “Tell me what you love most about the Christmas,” Azan rumbles behind me.

  And somehow it gets better.

  “The lights,” I say softly, closing my eyes and listening to the sound of my mate’s heartbeat, his gentle breathing and the sound of rain. I can almost picture the lights I love so much, and all the different ways they came to life during the holiday season.

  As though he can read my mind, he asks me softly to explain it to him.

  “During the holiday season, there are lights everywhere, Azan. Words don’t do it justice, but I’m sure as shit going to try.” I giggle a bit,
clutching onto Azan’s arms, cementing him in place, not that he’s going anywhere. “Some people love the smell of Christmas trees, and others love the chilly weather, but for me, it’s always been about the lights. They hang from trees, and over fireplaces. They cascade down stairways and fill foyers. They create this look that’s something out of a dream. During any other time of the year, it would look so artificial and gauche, but during the holidays? Azan, it’s like magic.”

  “Magic? Explain these lights.”

  My forehead wrinkles, trying to think of the best way to explain it. “Your sun rayers,” I start off slowly. “They’re a lot like that. Only they’re smaller. They hang from cords, and you can drape these cords around. Like if you shrunk all the sun rayers down to the size of my fist and looped them through ropes? And then if you hung the ropes around the ceiling of your lair? That’s what Christmas lights can do.”

  “Tiny sun rayers.” His eyebrows knit together. “Looped with string.”

  “Well, it’s a little more romantic.” I frown, wishing there was some way I could make this easier to understand, but explaining Christmas lights to a seven-foot alien is proving to be difficult. “The lights. They’re not only pink and red like the sun rayers. The colors for Christmas are usually red, green, or white. Or mixes of all three. Or two. The possibilities are endless.”

  “And at your lair?”

  “My home? We used all white,” I say dreamily. “Mom thought green and red were tacky, so most of our lights were white. She liked white lights with white ropes. The house looked like something out of a dream for weeks. Soft white lighting and Swarovski crystals everywhere. The woman was obsessed.” I giggle a little bit at the memory of watching my mom bustle around for the few days she was home to help the decorators set up the house for the holidays.

  “And how long do the lights stay?”

  I snicker. “Usually only for a month.”

  Azan stiffens. “All this lighting for a small amount of risen and fallen suns? Seems wasteful.”