Izzie and the Icebeast: A Scifi Alien Romance (Alien Abduction Book 9)

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Izzie and the Icebeast: A Scifi Alien Romance (Alien Abduction Book 9) Page 4

by Honey Phillips


  “I will bring you some,” he promised as he lifted her into his arms, holding her carefully in front of him this time. He should not have thrown her over his shoulder like one of his barbarian ancestors, yet he couldn’t regret the feel of her deliciously wet cunt against his hand. He sternly suppressed his immediate physical response to the memory.

  “What are you doing? Put me down!” Her reaction occurred a fraction too late, but as soon as she realized that he was carrying her off, she started to struggle.

  “I am taking you to the bath. You can barely stand, let alone walk.”

  His calm voice seemed to penetrate, and she stopped struggling, looking up at him with suspicious eyes.

  “I will not hurt you,” he found himself promising.

  “Why should I believe you?” She sounded more resigned than angry, but he found his own anger increasing. What had happened to her that she had such a hard time trusting his word?

  “A Hothian never breaks his word,” he said truthfully. “A verbal vow is as much of a contract as a written document.”

  She snorted, but her body relaxed a little as he entered the bathing room and paused to adjust the temperature. As he began to walk down the steps into the pool, she protested again.

  “I don’t need any help taking a bath.”

  “You were too dizzy to stand. I am not going to take a chance on you falling into the water.”

  “You’re going to get all wet.”

  “Good. I told you that I needed cleansing also.” Normally he would have rinsed his fur before entering, but he had no desire to put her down while he did so, and he was concerned that the spray might be too much for her delicate skin. He shook his head as he realized that his protective instincts were in full force. This was not how he had envisioned spending his time with the little human, yet as he settled into the water, he was filled with a curious contentment.

  Izzie hissed as the water covered her sunburned skin when Baralt sat down on a bench beneath the surface of the pool, still holding her cradled against his chest. He had adjusted the water so it was barely warm, but even the slight amount of warmth was almost too much to take. She started to pull away, but he only held her more firmly.

  “Let go of me, damn it.” She tried to struggle, but it was like being enclosed in a soft but utterly inescapable hug. Unlike the chains, this felt as much protective as confining. As soon as she stopped fighting, his arms loosened.

  “Not yet. The water will help to soothe your skin.” He ran a very cautious finger down her arm again, and she realized that the claws she had seen in the arena had retracted. Just as well considering where else his hand had been.

  “Your skin is so soft and bare,” he continued. “How do your people defend themselves?”

  “With weapons.” She hesitated, remembering the fights she had witnessed. “Do you always fight without weapons?”

  He shrugged, settling back against the edge of the pool, and she did her best to ignore the tantalizing sensation of all those hard muscles rippling beneath her body. She didn’t want to respond to an alien, no matter how kind he was being now.

  “It is the only true test of a warrior’s skills. We do have weapons, of course, and many warriors take pride in their skill with them, but this is true combat.”

  “You’re very good at it. How long have you been fighting?”

  He didn’t answer immediately, and she felt his body stiffen.

  “My people have always been a warrior race,” he said eventually. “Even as cubs, we challenge each other, but it is to learn rather than to injure. I did not understand that other races treated combat differently. I have been paying for that mistake ever since.”

  He spoke with a finality that prevented her from asking any more questions. Instead, she found herself relaxing against him. The water did help to soothe the painful burn. Extending a long arm, he retrieved a bottle of water for each of them from a nearby niche in the wall, and that, too, helped.

  They sat in silence as the water swirled gently around them, and the little clusters of lights on the ceiling seemed to dim. The scent of his fur filled her senses, musky and curiously soothing. She was half asleep when he finally rose to his feet and carried her out of the pool.

  “I think that’s long enough. I will apply a soothing lotion now.”

  He placed her on her feet and began toweling her off before she recovered enough to object.

  “You don’t need to do that. I’m quite capable of drying myself.”

  She might as well have been talking to a brick wall—a large, furry brick wall—as he ignored her and continued running a cloth gently down her back. The thin material didn’t resemble a normal towel, but it removed the moisture from her skin with almost magical ease. She tried to pull away again, but he held her in place by the simple expedient of tucking her against his body.

  Her front was pressed to his chest, and as her breasts rubbed against the damp silkiness of his chest, her nipples tightened. It’s just a physical reaction, she told herself as the soft fur teased the small peaks to aching hardness, determined to ignore the sensation. He spun her around and started drying her front, and she almost moaned when he passed the cloth over her now sensitive breasts. His movements slowed, and he lingered, making careful circles around her breasts and gently teasing her nipples.

  “Are all human breasts this large, even when they are not with child?” he asked, his voice a low growl, and she could feel his cock hardening behind her. “And are their nipples this sensitive?”

  As he spoke, he rolled each tight nub between his fingers. Her body was a confused mixture of desire and trepidation. What he was doing felt good, so good, but she hadn’t chosen this. She wrenched herself away from him, and either she caught him by surprise or he willingly let her go.

  “What is wrong?” he asked.

  “I didn’t give you permission to touch me.”

  “Your body was responding.”

  Grateful that he would not be able to see her blush with her skin still flushed from the sun, she raised her chin. “That was just a physical reaction. I can take care of myself.”

  “You do not need to take care of yourself. You are mine to care for now.”

  “I’m not yours,” she said fiercely.

  “I fought for you.”

  “I didn’t ask you to.”

  “Would you rather I had left you to Hvach or Goolig?”

  “No,” she admitted. “But that doesn’t mean you own me. You…”

  A sudden wave of weakness washed over her, and she swayed dizzily. Baralt swore, and then she was back in his arms.

  “You will let me take care of you,” he said firmly.

  She wanted to argue, but her arms and legs felt almost too heavy to move. As much as she hated to admit it, having him take care of her was oddly comforting.

  “I will finish drying you now.”

  “All right,” she said reluctantly. “But no more funny business.”

  “Funny business? What is humorous about this?”

  “I meant don’t play with my breasts.”

  “I was only drying them,” he said innocently.

  She snorted, but her urge to protest had vanished with her weariness. Instead, she lay quietly in his arms as he finished drying her and then smoothed a soothing lotion over her skin. He might have lingered a fraction longer between her legs and on her breasts than was strictly necessary, but it was too slight for her to call him on it. Her eyelids kept trying to close as a great lethargy swept over her.

  She had a brief moment of panic when she found herself being placed on a soft surface, but Baralt’s deep voice rumbled reassuringly in her ear.

  “Go to sleep, Isabel. You are safe.”

  Before she could open her mouth to tell him that she wasn’t tired, she was asleep.

  Chapter Six

  A wave of heat washed over Izzie, waking her from her slumber. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, but it was an oddly erotic heat. Her ni
pples throbbed and ached, and there was a pulsing beat between her thighs. Her hand slid instinctively to her clit and found the small nub swollen and hot to the touch. She moaned as she circled it, her body slick and ready.

  “What is wrong? Are you in pain?”

  Her eyes flew open at the sound of the deep male voice, but the room was too dim for her to see anything. Where was she? Just as she started to panic, she felt the soft brush of fur against her side and recognized Baralt’s musky scent. A second wave of heat rushed through her system, and she moaned again.

  “Isabel. Do I need to call for a medic?”

  “No!” She had already been subjected to one humiliating medical exam. She wasn’t about to agree to another, especially with her heightened state of desire.

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she panted, trying to force herself to pull her hand away from her needy clit, but even that small movement made her moan again.

  “You are not fine,” Baralt insisted, and then she felt his big hand cupping her face. “Your skin is very hot.”

  “I know. But it’s not painful. Exactly.”

  “Your scent has changed.” His voice deepened, almost growling. “Are you in heat?”

  If the fire running through her veins weren’t so intense, she would have laughed.

  “Humans don’t go into heat,” she managed to say, but despite her best intentions, her fingers were drifting toward the throbbing ache between her legs again. Thank goodness it was too dark for him to see what she was doing.

  He leaned closer, and the soft fur covering his muscled chest pressed against one of her beaded nipples. She arched her back, anxious for more contact, and groaned with relief as their bodies pressed together.

  What am I doing? The question floated through her head, but it didn’t seem as important as the need for immediate relief.

  “Do you need me to touch you?” Baralt asked.

  She opened her mouth to tell him that of course she didn’t, but instead… “Oh yes.”

  With the growl that she could feel vibrating through his chest as it pressed against her, he obeyed. A big hand covered hers where it rested between her legs.

  “Show me what you like,” he urged.

  She circled the swollen nub, and he followed the movement, his finger so much larger and firmer that she arched into his touch.

  “You’re very wet, my aria,” he murmured approvingly.

  Some distant part of her was embarrassed, but the rest was focused on the rising pleasure between her legs. Her body started to tighten in preparation for her climax, and then he pulled away. Before she could protest, he had moved down the bed and taken her hips in his hands.

  “I must taste you.” And then his mouth was on her.

  One sweep of his tongue across her needy flesh, and stars seemed to explode in the darkened room. Her body convulsed, but he held her firmly in place with those huge hands and didn’t stop, driving her from one climax into another. A thick finger slid into her, and she had a sudden flare of panic before it was washed away by yet another climax. Only when she finally pushed weakly at his head did he pull back. He looked up at her, and she could see his eyes gleaming in the darkness.

  “Is that better?”

  She nodded before she remembered that he wouldn’t be able to see her in the darkness. Relief and embarrassment vied for dominance.

  “Yes, I—”

  He moved as she spoke, sliding up her body, and she suddenly felt the heavy length of his cock against her thigh. Panic washed over her again. “What are you doing?”

  “I am claiming you.”

  “No! No, I don’t want that.”

  She had little hope that her words would stop him, but he froze just as the massive head of his cock touched her entrance.

  “You do not choose to join with me?”

  “No.” Now that the heat had left her system, she felt both mortified and oddly guilty. “I didn’t mean to lead you on.”

  “Lead me? You’re planning to take me somewhere?”

  She choked back a half-hysterical laugh. This giant alien had his equally giant cock at the entrance to her pussy and they were discussing semantics.

  “It’s an expression. I meant I’m sorry that I can’t reciprocate after you…helped me.”

  “I see.”

  To her relief, he moved to the side and settled down next to her. He put an arm around her shoulders and tucked her against his body, and she didn’t have the heart to protest. If he was content just to hold her, she could only be grateful.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  “I said that I would not hurt you. I certainly will not take you against your will. Go to sleep, Isabel.”

  She didn’t expect that would happen, but her body was limp and relaxed, and it didn’t take long before she gave in to exhaustion.

  Baralt left his bedroom feeling unusually satisfied considering the somewhat…incomplete nature of the previous evening. If someone had suggested a week ago that he would spend a night simply holding a very desirable female while his kotra ached and his knee throbbed, he would have laughed in their face, but he had been quite content until the pain in his knee could no longer be ignored. He knew from experience that he needed to ice the joint and work out the stiffness before it locked up on him completely. He reluctantly left Isabel nestled in his bed.

  His contentment vanished as he walked into his living area and found Relkhei waiting for him. Each contract fighter’s quarters were supposed to be under his individual control, but the fight master would never let a minor detail like that interfere with his plans. Before Relkhei had established the fight pit on Tgesh Tai, rumor had it that he had been part of a large criminal enterprise. Baralt had no difficulty believing it.

  Relkhei was Ylftek, a tall, slender male with dark-green skin and pointed ears who looked deceptively fragile. Baralt had seen him give a demonstration of his skills before, and he didn’t make the mistake of underestimating Relkhei as an opponent.

  He instinctively straightened his shoulders and did his best to hide his limp, scowling at his visitor. “What are you doing here?”

  “Perhaps I came to congratulate you on your victory. It was most satisfying to see you set aside your foolish scruples and engage in a real match.”

  It was a long-standing argument. The death matches were far more profitable—both for Relkhei and the fighters—but Baralt only killed when necessary. Saving Isabel from the winner of the match had been necessary. Even now, the thought of what might have happened to her if he had not triumphed made him shudder.

  “You know my reasons,” he said shortly as he went to the small kitchen area to pour himself a mug of cafir. He deliberately did not offer anything to Relkhei.

  “I do. Which is why I find myself intrigued by the lure of this human female. I look forward to trying her out myself.”

  Baralt’s hand tightened on the mug to the point where it was about to crack. He would never let Relkhei put a finger on Isabel. She was so soft and defenseless, and while the fight master might not be as overtly brutal as the slave fighters, he had a streak of cruelty that could be even more dangerous.

  “I wish to buy her,” he blurted out, even knowing that it was a mistake to reveal his interest.

  Relkhei raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were opposed to slavery.”

  “You know I am. I don’t wish her to be enslaved.”

  “I suppose you intend to let her go free?” Despite the mocking note in Relkhei’s voice, his question made Baralt hesitate. He did not want to let Isabel go.

  “She will be safe with me,” he said, knowing that it was an incomplete answer.

  “Perhaps she would be; however, I’m afraid it’s not possible. I have plans for the female. Did you know that there are rumors that the new Emperor has a human slave? I rather like the idea of having something in common with the Emperor. You have her for the week specified in the fight contract and that is all.” Relkhei rose to his feet, smoothing down
the fine silk of his robe.

  There was a faint noise from the entrance to Baralt’s sleeping quarters, and he looked up to find Isabel standing there. She had wrapped one of the drying cloths around her body, but it did little to conceal her luscious curves, and the white material only emphasized the warm golden glow of her skin. Her dark curls were tousled, and she looked sleepy and desirable.

  Despite his body’s immediate reaction, he was more concerned with Relkhei’s reaction. When he shot a glance at the other male, Relkhei was watching her with undisguised interest. Baralt almost growled but managed to control himself.

  “Come here,” he ordered her. For a fraction of a second, Isabel hesitated, but to his relief, she obeyed and came to join him.

  “So you are my new acquisition,” Relkhei said. “Your image did not do you justice. I begin to see why Baralt is acting so unusually.”

  Isabel started to open her mouth, but he gave her hand a warning squeeze. No matter how much he hated it, she did belong to Relkhei, and if he chose to punish her, Baralt’s options were limited. She looked up at him and kept silent.

  Relkhei prowled over to the two of them, still studying Isabel. “Remove the cloth. I wish to see all of my possession.”

  Isabel lifted her chin, and Baralt’s heart sank as he recognized the sign of her defiance. While he honored her bravery and determination, this was not the best time. Praying that she would forgive him, he reached over and snatched the cloth away. She gave him one startled, outraged look, then stood proudly, refusing to cower.

  Relkhei’s gaze drifted over her, and he smiled, sending a chill down Baralt’s spine. “Delightful. I look forward to our time together. In fact…” Relkhei stroked his chin thoughtfully. “While I did promise you to the winner for a week, I’m sure Baralt wouldn’t hold you to that if you wish to leave.” Again the mocking note. “Would you rather come with me now, my dear? You would be housed in the finest quarters, not these primitive surroundings, and dressed in clothing designed to accentuate your beauty. And, of course, I’m sure you would find me a much more…civilized companion.”

 

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