by Tasha Black
Cosmic Mate
Tasha Black
13th Story Press
Copyright © 2020 by 13th Story Press
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
13th Story Press
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Swarthmore, PA 19081
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Contents
Tasha Black Starter Library
About Cosmic Mate
Cosmic Mate
1. Serena
2. Ozmarck
3. Serena
4. Serena
5. Ozmarck
6. Serena
7. Ozmarck
8. Serena
9. Ozmarck
10. Serena
11. Ozmarck
12. Serena
13. Ozmarck
14. Ramm
15. Serena
16. Ozmarck
17. Serena
18. Ozmarck
19. Ozmarck
20. Serena
21. Ozmarck
22. Ramm
23. Ramm
24. Ozmarck
25. Serena
26. Serena
27. Ozmarck
28. Serena
29. Serena
30. Ozmarck
Conquered Mate - SAMPLE
1. Rose
2. Rex
3. Rose
Tasha Black Starter Library
About the Author
One Percent Club
Tasha Black Starter Library
Packed with steamy shifters, mischievous magic, billionaire superheroes, and plenty of HEAT, the Tasha Black Starter Library is the perfect way to dive into Tasha's unique brand of Romance with Bite!
Get your FREE books now at tashablack.com!
About Cosmic Mate
A hot, horned bodyguard, an intergalactic ambassador, and an unexpected pregnancy…
Serena Scott is a buttoned up, rule-following intergalactic ambassador. But when her fiancé leaves her at the altar, she decides to go on their honeymoon alone and let her hair down for once. She doesn’t expect her one wild night of toe-curling passion with a hunky Maltaffian guard to result in anything but a blindingly hot memory.
Professional bodyguard Ozmarck has spent a lifetime wondering if he would ever find his fated mate. When she materializes in the form of a beautiful human woman, the mating frenzy descends on them both before he can even ask her name. And in the morning his exquisite mate is gone without a trace, leaving him determined to track her across the galaxy – as soon as he receives payment for his next gig.
When that job miraculously lands Serena right in Oz’s lap, sparks fly between the lovers. And the surprises just keep coming when they discover their night of passion had some unexpected consequences. Oz is at his wits end trying to protect his newly pregnant mate, who seems to be committed to putting her life on the line to save her corner of the universe. And Serena may be brave and determined, but she will have to confront her past head on if she wants to embrace a future with her sudden new family.
If you like strong women, sexy aliens, wild adventures, steamy sensual scenes, and happily-ever-afters, then you’ll love the world of Stargazer!
Stargazer Alien Space Cruise Brides:
Crowned Mate
Cosmic Mate
Conquered Mate
Cosmic Mate
1
Serena
Serena Scott resisted the urge to smooth her bun and adjust her glasses for the camera.
As it happened, her hair was down, her glasses were tucked away in her travel bag, and there were no cameras anywhere in sight.
She only wore the glasses for show anyway. Her PR people told her they played down her youthful features and made her look smarter to voters.
But tonight, she actually wanted to look her age, and maybe even act her age, for once.
Tonight, she had nothing to lose.
“Pretty lady,” someone yelled over the music.
She turned to find a tall Bergalian smiling at her rakishly and holding out a furry paw.
“Want to dance?” His voice was deep but smooth.
Her mind instinctively played out the optics of being seen dancing with a Bergalian. They were in favor of sentient rights, but their views on space pollution were problematic at best.
“Yes,” she said quickly, reminding herself that she was here as a person, not as an ambassador. No one here on Bissmeee would care who she danced with, or even know who she was.
Frankly, she was doing her best to forget who she was herself for one night.
The Bergalian gently took her hand and led her into the press of bodies on the dance floor. Serena smiled up at him and he grinned back.
Then he began flinging his body heedlessly around in a way that seemed about as related to dancing as scribbling might be related to painting watercolors.
Serena watched him for a moment in total disbelief, and then he tugged at her hand, pulling her into a spin.
He smiled widely as she spun helplessly in to his side and then out again like a character in an antique cell-film.
He managed to step on her foot before spinning her out a second time, causing her to go slightly off balance and bump into a Cameliunak lady in a fancy dress.
“Excuse me,” the woman trumpeted indignantly.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” Serena said as she flew past.
A deep chuckle came from the shadows, but she couldn’t locate who it belonged to. The Bergalian had pulled her close enough that his fur blocked most of her vision. He was wearing some kind of scented oil that was actually quite nice.
“Pretty lady,” he said again, leering down at her.
Her instinct was to pull back.
But Serena Scott’s instinct was always to pull back. She had spent a lifetime trying not to offend, not to make a mistake, not to be too loud or too aggressive, or too timid or too boring.
I got left at the altar.
All my constituents hate me.
Tonight, I’m going to do something excessive.
That had been her plan, at least. But she wasn’t actually sure she wanted that excessive something to be crash-dancing with a half-drunk Bergalian.
“Excuse me, sir, may I cut in?” It was the deep voice again, matching the laugh from the shadows.
The Bergalian was so surprised that he froze in place.
His sudden stillness almost sent Serena toppling.
Before she had a chance, she felt strong hands on her shoulders, steadying her.
“Be my guest,” the Bergalian said in a friendly way. “Come find me to dance again later, if you want,” he whispered to Serena.
She smiled at him, not really sure what to say.
He waved a gigantic arm in a furry arc and disappeared into the crowd.
Serena turned to see who held her.
Large brown eyes gazed down at her steadily from a face so chiseled it could have belonged to a statue. A pair of wickedly curved horns extended backward from his forehead.
An equally sculpted body was just barely hidden by a tight white t-shirt over low-slung leather breeches.
A familiar tattoo showed on his right forearm.
“A Maltaffian bodyguard,” she heard herself murmur too low for him to hear.
“Yeah, but I’m off-duty tonight,” he replied with a teasing half-smile.
Antitha’s Belt, he’s got shifter-level hearing.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, mor
tified. “I guess it’s been too long since I was off-planet.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied. “Can I get you a drink or are you committed to dying on the dance floor?”
“Gods no,” she replied. “When he asked me to dance, I didn’t quite realize what he had in mind.”
“But you didn’t try to stop him,” the Maltaffian said.
“I’m trying to be open-minded,” she replied, feeling stupid as soon as the words were out of her mouth.
But the Maltaffian just nodded. “I’m Ozmarck, but you can call me Oz.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Serena. You can call me… Serena.”
She had forgotten to lie about her name.
But if he recognized her, he gave no indication. He merely nodded and offered her his arm.
They traveled to the bar together through a crowd of dancers from all over the galaxy. Serena had never seen so many races together at once without weapons or protest signs.
Frankly, it was giving her hope for her own troubled system.
“Sampler at my usual table,” Oz yelled to the bartender.
The humanoid inclined his head.
Oz led Serena further from the fray.
When they reached the curve of the outer wall, she realized there were cushions and floating tables in a series of shadowy recesses.
“After you,” Oz said, gesturing toward a small table with golden cushions.
Serena slid behind the table and lowered herself to one of the cushions.
“I didn’t even see these tables before,” she said.
“I enjoy my privacy,” Oz replied, stretching out on the cushion beside hers. “Besides, this is a great spot for people-watching.”
The table lowered itself to a perfect height for them, and Serena felt instantly cozy.
The big Maltaffian was right, the people-watching was incredible from this vantage point.
Her furry former dance partner had found himself a new match. The woman had a silvery veil covering what appeared to be a head covered in delicate tentacles. Her six tapered legs gave her a decided advantage at staying right-side up as the Bergalian flung her around the dance floor. After a particularly violent spin, she tilted her head back and laughed as the Bergalian gazed down at her in a decidedly love-struck way.
“You see, you were just four legs shy of being able to keep up with him,” Oz teased.
“They look amazing,” Serena said, shaking her head in disbelief.
“That’s what I like about this place,” Oz said.
“What?” she asked.
“Neutral ground,” he said simply. “As long as the Cerulean soldiers stay out, this place will be an intergalactic paradise.”
Serena bit her lip. This was supposed to be a break from politics. But Cerulean soldiers were half the reason she was going on her honeymoon alone.
She needed a break from the threats and fury on her home planet after she had supported legislation that essentially backed up everything Oz had just said.
Cerulean soldiers had no reason to occupy her sector. The bands of soldiers sowed fear and resentment wherever they went.
She had voted to limit Cerulean interference to cases where the soldiers were summoned or emergency forces were needed in general.
Her holo-box had exploded immediately with messages from outraged citizens. She suspected most of them were members of the gentry who viewed Cerulean occupation as protective of their interests.
Messages from the Cerulean labor unions had been less emotional, but more vaguely threatening.
Her security back home had been more than happy to have her trip off-planet continue as scheduled, even when her fiancé decided he’d rather head for the hills than marry a controversial public figure.
Now here she was, a woman of a certain age, her last likely prospect for marriage and children gone with the wind.
But somehow she felt quite happy, curled up on a cushion beside the horned guard, watching the universe dance past.
She glanced over at him and almost did a double-take.
He had been gazing at her thoughtfully, but when their eyes met the air between them seemed to electrify.
2
Ozmarck
Ozmarck gazed, dumbfounded, at the fragile human as lightning coursed through his veins.
Emotion tore at him, threatening to suck his mind into a black hole of need.
I just met her…
But it didn’t matter. Suddenly, nothing mattered.
A lead weight of desire dropped on him, heavy as an anchor.
And he knew the feeling for exactly what it was.
He had found his true mate. Now his body was launching into the mating thrall, leaving him no time to wonder at the sudden change in his life and priorities.
The bartender approached, carrying a tray of food and beverages so heavy he nearly staggered under it.
“Come with me,” Oz managed to growl to Serena through a clenched jaw.
“But, sir, your food,” the bartender said.
“Bring it to my rooms, leave it at the door,” Oz snapped.
The woman was slowly lifting herself from her cushion, as if in a dream.
She probably had no idea - about the true bond or the thrall.
He nearly pitied her, but the demands of his body allowed him no room for conversation.
He offered her his hand and she took it.
They set off through the press of the crowd, but her pace was too slow. And there were too many other males, scenting her, leering at her.
His protective instinct amped up and he swept her into his arms.
“Wh-what’s happening?”
Her whispered words seared into his ravenous flesh, soft breath awakening each nerve ending.
He clutched her closer and broke into a sprint.
“What do you know about Maltaffian bonds and the rites of the thrall?” he asked her, the words tearing out of him as if they preferred to stay in and let his body do the talking.
“I’m just trying to take a night off,” she murmured into his chest. “Have some fun for once…”
By the red rings of Cylonius, she has no idea.
Well, if she was looking for some fun, she was about to find it.
He reached his room and slammed his palm against the sensor. After an eternity, the door slid open to reveal a monastic space.
Oz traveled cheap when he was on his own dime. There was just room for a large bed, a small chair, a case and a door to the bath.
It didn’t matter. They would only need the bed.
And as soon as he got his mouth on her she would forget her surroundings anyway.
A surge of lust nearly turned him inside out, and he tossed her to the bed as the door slid closed behind them.
“Ohhh,” she moaned, arms out to him.
He smiled.
She felt it too, the bond that stretched tight, nearly choking him the moment she was out of his arms.
He crawled in after her, stripping his t-shirt over his head.
She grabbed his upper arms, her soft fingers tightening over hard muscle.
“You’re mine,” he growled.
But she was too busy fumbling with the tie on his breeches to take any notice of his words.
Words were meaningless now. They were both in the thrall.
She was a proper female, conscious of manners and niceties, he could tell by her gracious handling of the Bergalian earlier and by the quality of the clothing Oz was ripping off her right now.
Any other night she would have died before tearing at his pants frantically with her fingernails.
He swiped her hands off him and took off his leathers himself, flinging them against the wall where they nearly bounced back onto the bed in the tiny space.
When he turned back, she was pawing at her own silken undergarments.
“Easy, baby,” he groaned, battling his own panic to shred her bra and panties.
Her skin was warm an
d feverish to the touch. She was deeply in the thrall now.
He forced himself to take a breath and speak to her. It was wrong for her not to know what was happening.
“I will always protect you,” he told her. “I will treasure you always.”
But before he could voice the vows he intended, or explain what was happening, she went up on her elbows to press her lips to his.
He saw stars behind his eyelids, universes expanding and collapsing, the passage of time and space.
She moaned against his mouth.
He pressed her to the bed, pinning her warm, soft body with his hardness.
3
Serena
Serena was lost in a sea of sensation.
Oz owned her senses, his delicious scent hypnotizing her as she struggled to absorb the ecstasy of his enormous body against hers, the heat, the pulse of his huge and rigid cock against her hip, the sound of his raspy voice, the taste of his possessive kiss.
She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, he was kissing down her collarbone, flicking his tongue against a nipple.
His tongue seemed slightly longer than a human’s, strong and hot, and certainly more clever.
Her blood sang with lust.
Serena had never experienced anything like this. She reached for him, needing to touch some part of him.