Warrior's Bond: BBW Science Fiction Alien Romance (Yadeshi Brides Book 1)

by Emma Alisyn

  She left the bedroom, entering the living area. Benyon stood at a round table, hand on the surface as he gazed out a nearby window. He'd changed too, the loose gi like uniform gone, in its place a sleeveless half robe of the same material as her dress, open to the sashed waist to reveal a sculpted chest... and more of the swirling line and dot tattoos.

  He turned his head, a thick rim of violet brightening his eyes. "You are beautiful."

  "Am I? Human women must look different to you."

  Benyon held out a hand, an imperiousness in the gesture. "I’ve grown used to the differences over the years. They are superficial, really."

  Zoriah moved forward, taking his hand. Fingers wrapped around hers, tight for a moment before loosening as if he'd remembered he had the strength to crush her bones. She'd never felt unsafe with him, not even during the single minded training sessions- despite multiple bruises.

  "You were in a mood earlier," he said.

  She shrugged. "Yes."

  "Will you tell me what’s wrong?"

  How could she when she wasn’t even certain herself? "I don’t really know. It's probably just the stress of the last few weeks and the last few days." She tried to smile. "I might be about fifteen years overdue for a nervous breakdown."

  "Zoriah, don't brush me off with half-truths."

  "What does that mean? I’m telling you the truth."

  "But not all of it." He tugged, pulling her against his chest and wrapping an arm around her waist. "You’ll tell me what’s wrong, woman, or I'll make you suffer."

  She glared up at him. "And how do you think you'll do that?"

  He smiled a little. "A warrior has ways."

  Zoriah snorted. "You’re too nice for ways."

  His thin brows rose. "Nice? Are you-" his mouth snapped shut, teeth clicking. "Maybe we should eat."

  A vague sense of dissatisfaction rolled through her as he contained his temper. "Whatever. Let’s eat."

  She didn’t wait for him to pull out her chair. He sat after a moment and began uncovering dishes, explaining the different bites presented. The names of the various proteins and vegetables, where they came from and method of preparation. Asking after her preferences as she tasted each dish. It was all so... homey.

  "What the hell am I doing here, Benyon?"

  He set down his fork and leaned back in his chair, lids veiling his eyes. "What do you mean?"

  "What am I doing here? Why go to all this trouble to get me and my kids here? Why are you doing all this?"

  His fingers tapped the table before stilling. "I thought it was clear where my motivations lay."

  "Not really. I guess we're supposed to be dating, but it doesn’t really feel like it."

  "And what," he said softly, "does it feel like?"

  "An... office friendship." She took a sip of water to moisten her throat. "At first, I thought you wanted to explore... other things. We... almost made love, but since then you’ve been..." She stumbled over the words, feeling the heat in her cheeks. "I’m not sure what you really want. Did you- did I disappoint you?"

  He didn’t speak for a long moment- long enough that she wanted to shout with impatience- but that would just make him shut up for good.

  "Nice," he said. "Friendship. Disappoint. I think I’ve made a mistake."

  Her heart sank. She wasn’t really one to push things, except when it came to her children. And now she'd likely pushed him away with her emotional outburst.

  "What mistake? Look, Benyon, you aren’t obligated to me just because of some things you said in passing a few weeks ago, or because we made out." She stood up, gesturing. "I don’t know how I can repay you for helping my family for all of this. But you don’t have to-"

  He stood, the energy in the movement shutting her up. His broad shoulders seemed coiled, tight with sudden tension.

  "I’ve made a mistake."

  8

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “What?”

  “You want passion. Fire.”

  His hand lashed out, fingers threading through her loose hair. His eyes were steady, the kind of merciless regard leaving no room for her to pretend to misunderstand.

  “You have something I want. I have something you need. Merges are often based on far less.”

  She licked her lips. “What is it I have?”

  She wasn’t silly- she knew he wasn’t talking about some romance novel raging lust over her mom bod. And... how had the conversation leaped to… what was a merge?

  “A family.”

  The answer rocked her. “But… you can have children.”

  Something flashed in his eyes. “Yes. But I want these children. And we can have more.”

  “How?”

  He smiled, a slow, sensual expression that kindle an answering heat. “The usual way.”

  Zoriah didn’t appreciate the amusement. At least he was aware they’d have to do more than kiss to make a baby. “You don’t even like me.”

  His brow rose. “What is there not to like? You’re strong- you’ve raised three fine children without a male. You’re young still, and womanly.” He made a vague gesture with his hands that should have insulted her, but didn’t.

  “I’m not stupid enough to say that isn’t enough for marriage.” Because it was. He was right. Many failed marriages were based on more- and many successful marriages were based on less. If she filled a genuine vacancy, and he professed he could tolerate her in bed…

  “I- have to think.”

  “I’ve let you do enough thinking.” He stepped closer, silver eyes ringed in violet. “I thought if I showed my respect, I would win you. But you want more than respect, don’t you, Zoriah?”

  “I- what?” She drew on his training, controlled the stutter in her voice. “What do you mean? Of course I want respect.”

  He clucked his tongue, shaking his head. "You do- but you have a warrior’s spirit. You want me to fight for you- to prove my worth."

  She scowled. "Now that’s just ridiculous. I had one husband who liked to get in trouble, I certainly don't-"

  "That’s not what I meant."

  The hand in her hair tightened, drawing her inexorably to him. Zoriah's hands splayed on his chest, nothing but the thin barrier of flimsy cloth between her body and his- his obviously aroused body. The hard, heavy length of him pushed against her middle. The violet in his eyes nearly drowned the silver.

  She licked her lips. "What did you mean?"

  His head lowered and he nipped at her lips, unsheathing the sharp incisors. She yelped as he drew a drop of blood, then suckled the tiny wound.

  "I’ve been polite, undemanding. Nice."

  It had been a... nice... change, a man with manners who treated her courteously. But... the more her body roused, the more she just wanted him to throw her against a wall and... Zoriah bit her lip, finally understanding the source of her temper.

  Was it really because she was horny and he hadn’t done anything about it? Really?

  She sniffed. "Well, I just don’t see how any relationship can work long term if there isn’t any chemistry."

  He laughed. A full bodied, uninhibited sound of sheer mirth. "Zo-ahr-aya, no chemistry? Complain about no chemistry after I’ve made you scream. Again."

  “You know, I think you’re all talk and courtly chivalry, and no action.” She poked his chest, hard. “And I don’t know if I like being seen as the means to a ready-made family because you have the bug to settle down. Unfortunate for that the woman comes with the package.”

  She poked him again, harder, digging her nail into his pec. He grabbed the offending digit, a string of alien words spilling from his mouth.

  Benyon didn’t swear. She didn’t even think he knew swear words. Benyon certainly didn’t do things like slam her against the wall with the face of a man intent on devouring, whether she said yes or no.

  "One chance to say no," he said softly. "One."

  "Are you insane? Of course I’m not saying no."

  He took her lip
s in a kiss unlike any other he'd offered. Unleashed, dominant, demanding she surrender her mouth for his plundering. Zoriah clung to him, the tingling in her breasts reminding her that she was still a young woman with a healthy libido. Her last emotional barrier began to crumble- the fear that maybe he didn’t really want her, but just wanted the illusion of a comfortable relationship with a human. That maybe she was exotic to him, but not real.

  She couldn’t dispute the realness as he tightened his hold, slanting her head back to take full advantage. His hand roved low over her buttocks, squeezing, smashing her pelvis against his.

  He tore his mouth away, lips- and teeth- trailing along her neck. "I'll wear your brand; you will wear mine."

  It was almost a question, not quite a demand. "A brand?" Her fingers trembled against his chest as she shifted against him, restless.

  "Yes." He took her hand, hooking her fingers onto his robe. She pulled the cloth away from his chest, exposing what she'd seen before during training, but never quite so close- the swirling dots and lines of the complex tattoo he wore, a deep sapphire ink that seemed part of his skin. The tatts were pretty, but the muscles underneath the ink... she lifted her head, an incredible urge to run her tongue along his skin surging.

  "The tattoos, Zoriah," he said, amusement in his tone.

  "You want me to look at ink when I can look at man?"

  "You can look at as much of the man as you like."

  The purr in his voice rubbed all the right parts of her body, sparking all kinds of naughty thoughts. She felt as though another side of her was taking over, activated by the raw sexual energy Benyon revealed. He curved fingers around the straps of her gown.

  She grabbed his wrists. "You'd better not rip this dress off me. That’s only cute in movies. I like this dress."

  His nostrils flared and he stepped away. "Then take it off."

  She felt bereft, his body heat gone, but the hot blaze of his eyes warmed her blood as she unhooked straps so the gown to slid to the floor. It had come with built in undergarments, the kind designed to look invisible, so she was naked when it pooled at her feet.

  Benyon inhaled, fists clenching, and stepped forward, a lip curling back over sharp teeth.

  She eyed the incisors. "Did your teeth just grow? Benyon? Benyon?"

  He curved his hands under her buttocks and lifted. She wrapped legs around his waist automatically, grabbing his neck for balance. Her bare pussy pressed against him, her hips arching involuntarily.

  "How do you want me, Zoriah? Slow and sweet in the bed? Hot and fast against the wall?"

  Her eyes squeezed tight. "Am I a slow and sweet kind of gal?"

  He moved, and her back was against a wall, his fingers deep inside her, a shocking invasion even though she clamored for possession.

  She moaned as he teased her, hand moving in and out, teeth and lips on her neck. "Benyon, if we do this, if we-" she couldn’t speak, the inferno inside took away rational thought.

  "Mine," he said. "I don't release anything I take."

  It was enough, enough to shatter her final barrier. She reached between their bodies, sliding underneath the band of his loose pants and grasping his cock. He hissed, a rattling sound deep in his chest that should have frightened her. He pushed her hand away, releasing her and her legs slid to the floor. Before she could utter a protest he whirled her around, pushing her against the wall, hands around her breasts.

  It had been awhile, but she knew with the difference in their heights, it would be... sharp. "Benyon, I haven’t done this in a while."

  "I won’t hurt you."

  He plucked her nipples, kneading her flesh with a masculine enthusiasm that obviously spanned species and galaxies. Her head fell back as his cock nudged the crevice of her behind. He slid down her body, gently tapping her ankles apart so she spread for him. And then the head of his cock teased her entrance, sliding in a bare inch then pulling out.

  "Slowly, at first," he said in her ear. "No need to rush. I'll have you all night."

  He entered her again, this time going deeper, waiting for her body to adjust before he pulled out and then thrust back in, sheathing himself fully. Zoriah cried out. He filled her body, her pussy taut around his length, clenching as he began to move in rhythm to her eager hips.

  She braced her hands against the wall, small sounds escaping her throat as he ground inside her. She stretched to her tip toes, feeling deliciously helpless under the onslaught.

  "I’ve waited... weeks," he ground out. "Imagined you in my mind, in every way. On my bed, legs spread wide for me to feast. I want all of you. Tonight I take all of you."

  His arms braced on the wall on either side of her head and she grabbed the muscled forearms, holding on for life. Let him do all the talking, she just felt. Her body rising to its peak, pressure exploding inside her. She cried out, nails digging into his arms. Benyon pulled away, turning her around and dropping to his knees. She looked down at the erect cock, slick with her juices.

  "You didn't-"

  He smiled, a dark heated expression that silenced her. "I will. But when I’m done with you, you'll never think of choosing another."

  "That sounds like a threat."

  "A promise, love."

  Strong hands on her thighs, pushing her apart again and his mouth was on her, a long, heavy- clearly not human- tongue lapping at her throbbing clit. He licked her with surprising delicacy, flicking and kneading the stiff nub until she was moaning, hands clenched in his hair. Again his thick fingers entered her, an assault on two fronts, driving her wild. She screamed again as a second orgasm crushed her, but it wasn’t enough. An animal awoke in her, and if she wasn’t human her eyes would be as bright as his. She watched the tattoos, dizzy, as they appeared to swirl and rearrange their design on his body.

  "Benyon..." she could barely speak. "Benyon, your ink."

  He ignored her and she pushed at his shoulders. He pulled away, snarling. "I'm feasting. Discuss later."

  "Well, excuse me." She glared down at him, eyes narrowing. He was feasting? She wanted to feast. She pushed at his shoulders with more force, using her full body weight to topple them both to the floor.

  He allowed it, of course, could have stopped her at any time. But why bother when she wound up straddling his body? Impaling herself on him as he arched, hissing, hands grabbing her bobbing breasts as she fucked him from above, coating him with her arousal.

  He began to speak, a string of alien words different from the very obvious cursing before. He released her breasts and grabbed her forearms. She hissed; heat seared her and she became dizzy again. His tattoos moved, duplicating, the replicates sliding along his skin and…

  Zoriah shrieked. “Your tattoos are attacking me!”

  His hold tightened. “Merging. Choose you.”

  “Oh, God.”

  She watched as the- well, hell, it definitely wasn’t ink- slid onto her skin. Her hips continued to move of their own volition as fire spread through her body. Inside her, he pulsed, swelling in her body at a rate she couldn’t adjust to. He roared; the tattoos settled around her arms like a vice and then the sensation faded and they were just tattoos. Inside her a warm flood of seed bathed her body, but she couldn't move, fused to him, her pussy pulsing. The orgasm didn’t stop but became a wave, increasing and decreasing intensity until she thought she would die from the pleasure- and the waves broke, receded.

  Zoriah rose off him, thighs trembling, jaw loose in shock, body so deliciously abused she didn't want to even attempt walking. Collapsing on his chest, he wheezed.

  “Woman, you wore me out. I’ll sleep for a day.”

  The nerve.

  They spoke later that evening after a shower together and a cold meal. And more bed play, though this time his alien cock didn’t act all alien like- it was just a normal cock.

  “What does it mean?” she asked, staring at her bare arms in the mirror after she’d dressed.

  He wrapped an arm around her. “It means you accepted me a
s yours, I accepted you as mine. Yadeshi marriage, more or less.”

  She turned. “More or less?”

  “It’s a bit more permanent than human marriage.”

  Zoriah frowned. “You mean no divorce?”

  “We will be married for several hundred years.”

  He shut her jaw for her. “That’s not in the pamphlets, Benyon.”

  “Because not all married couples Merge. It only happens where there is potential for a true… meeting of minds.”

  She sighed, leaning against him. “You make it sound all Pride and Prejudice and Aliens.” Zoriah paused. “Someone should write that.”

  He kissed her head. “The children will be back soon. We will tell them. And… will you think about coming to Yadesh for a visit?”

  She did more than think. They left within the month after settling her affairs on Earth. There was a small settlement of Yadeshi-human families in one of the bigger cities, and Benyon compromised. They would live there, and visit his rural childhood home on school holidays.

  It was the start of a beautiful life, and they’d have several hundred years to build their dreams together.

  Thank you for reading! Yadeshi Brides #2 is now available.

  Swipe forward to download.

  Terminally ill bride candidate + an alien wolf in doctor's clothing = healing that lasts longer than a lifetime.

  What can a Low Tier woman do when she's terminally ill? Enter an elite alien warrior training program thinking there is no way she will ever be chosen as a bride and mate. She desperately needs the stipend to take care of her mother- especially when she has agreed to die in return for money.

  He refuses to watch another woman he loves die. Secret warrior Jaron came to Earth to study human medicine as a part of the Yadeshi-human treaty and exchange program. When Mila entered his office months ago, he realized she possessed the spirit of warrior and healer- and decided he would do everything to make sure she lived. Even against her will. Even if it means bonding her as his mate... without her full knowledge. He's determined that when she finds out what he has done, she won't reject him.