Stolen: A SciFi Alien Warlord Romance

by Alison Aimes

  The last of his control vanished.

  His mouth claimed hers as he thrust deep. Again. And again. And again.

  “Cry out my name as you come on my cocksto. Show me just how obedient a girl you can be.”

  “DaKar!” Her sheath contracted around him. Her body shook. Her back arched. Her fingers gripped his hair and tugged, sending a fierce bolt of painful pleasure straight to the tip of his cock.

  She was coming—and so was he.

  He held tight to her writhing body as his eyes slammed shut and his balls drew tight.

  Golden stars danced along the soul ties between them and then burst upward into iridescent fireworks, filling every part of his heart and soul with light.

  “DaKar, d-do you feel that?” Awe laced her voice. The soul-fusion. She felt it, too.

  “I do.” His seed spilled inside her.

  Before he returned to claim his father’s title, he’d never considered his happily-ever-after might be with an élithe. Until recently, he’d have said he was fine with the whole planet blowing up as long as Grayson, Tom, and a handful of other servants made it off alive. Now, he understood that he’d found his greatest fortune in the same place he’d once thought would only bring him pain.

  Now, he would never regret any of his childhood or his past—because it had led him to her.

  The sparks in his chest that had erupted during the soul-tie fireworks floated gently downward, imbedding deeper, imprinting the depth of his feelings for his female, not just inside his chest, but in every cell and sinew.

  He was linked to her now on the most basic and fundamental of levels.

  In just a few more lunar rotation’s time, as their feelings continued to deepen, the fusion would complete. Their souls joined for all time.

  Raw, wild pleasure crashed over him at the thought that perhaps tonight they’d not only laid the foundation for their future, but made a baby. If he had his way, it would be one of many.

  He buried his face in the curve of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent of honeysuckles and hope.

  And if a small part of him still replayed her words I trust you more than I have ever trusted anyone before and realized that wasn’t exactly the same as a full declaration of faith, he let the roar of lust and awe and joy drown it out.

  He was never giving her up. She was his forever.

  33

  Her final moments with DaKar were slipping by too fast.

  “Try this one.” Seated at the private dining table in his bedroom, dawn still a few hours off, he held the spoon to her lips, a dollop of orange-speckled sauce at the end.

  She opened her mouth eagerly.

  After making love to her in the floater, he insisted on bringing her back to his home to clean up and spend more time together. He’d refused to take no for an answer, and Goddess help her, the temptation to see his home, to learn just a little more about him, to breathe in his scent for another few heartbeats was more than she could resist.

  The savory taste of food hit her taste buds and her eyes sank shut. “So good.”

  A low grunt was his answer.

  Lips still around the spoon, she opened her eyes to find his jaw clenched tight, his eyes blazing. She understood the expression better now.

  Especially since he’d been staring at her like that ever since he fucked her.

  He wanted her again.

  “DaKar.” His name was a breathless moan. She wanted him, too.

  What had happened between them when they’d made love had been as beautiful as it was shocking. She’d felt him. Not just inside her pussy or beneath her skin, but deep inside her bones and tissue. As if he’d begun to burrow into everything she was. Offering her the kind of connection—of completeness—she, who had always been alone, craved.

  Except in a few short hours it would all be just a memory.

  Already, guilt at having permitted the connection to grow this deep consumed her, but, in her defense, she hadn’t realized that making love would trigger the soul fusion to that degree and now…now she was just trying to cherish these last few moments. Because it was going to hurt so bad when there were no more.

  But she could never regret what had happened between them. It was something rare and extraordinary, filled with the kind of intimacy and wonder most people never experienced in a lifetime.

  She just hoped that one lunar rotation he would look back on their time together in the same way.

  “Are you sore?” He drew back the spoon, his expression concerned.

  He’d obviously caught some of her emotions through the soul ties, but misunderstood the cause. She forced a smile. “I can more than take what you have to give.”

  A low chuckle, but his other hand fisted tight on the table. “There’s that fire. I keep reminding myself you’re new to sex. Otherwise you’d already be bent over this table, your dress yanked up and my cocksto ten inches deep inside you.”

  Her nipples tightened, straining against the thin silk of her dress, every nerve ending sparking to life, arcing toward him like the jagged branches of a lightning strike.

  “But you are new,” he continued. “So, here I am. Giving you time. Distracting us both. Playing the polite gentleman.” He took a spoonful from another dish, this one flaky and brown on the outside, and held it up to her mouth. “Filling your other sweet holes until you give me permission to be deep inside the one I want the most.”

  She pressed her thighs together. “You are outrageous.”

  “I am.” There wasn’t an ounce of uncertainty in his voice. “But so are you. A perfect match. It’s why we’ll make such good mates.” He didn’t give her time to object. “These are all dishes from my homeland.” He picked up another one, the bowl small in his big hands, and scooped out a spoonful of a lemon-colored dish. “It occurred to me that we’ve never had a civilized meal together…and that I wanted to share one with you.”

  The sweetness of the gesture was as exquisite as it was brutal.

  He’d called ahead from the floater, speaking in low tones to someone at the other end of the comms line. When they’d arrived at his home they’d entered to find hundreds of flickering candles and vases overflowing with wildflowers from the Outer World. The honeyed scent drenched the air while the lit candles cast sensual shadows on the walls. The table set with gleaming silverware and jeweled Outer World plates she could have traded to Denard for a small fortune.

  Hungry for every scrap of knowledge, she stared at everything in DaKar’s home. It was easy to see what had been there previous to his arrival: the stuffy, rigid furniture, the dark walls, the overdone paintings lining the walls filled with generations of dour-looking élithe males all staring down in judgment from their life-size portraits. But mixed in with that, propped against a wall or on a chair, was an impressive-looking weapon or a rolled-up, colorful Martian carpet that she had no doubt belonged to the male sitting across from her.

  In those few items, she saw his pride in his homeland, proof of his adventurous spirit, and the startling fact that he had begun to bring some part of himself into this place, even if he didn’t know it yet himself.

  She could only hope her confession would make it all the easier for him to be at home in both places.

  She pushed past the lump in her throat. “I will cherish this evening forever. Thank you.” She took another bite, swallowing his offering by sheer will. Not that it wasn’t delicious. Or that she wasn’t ravenous. She’d expended a lot of energy recently thanks to his forceful brand of lovemaking. It was only that nothing came close to the man feeding her. All other tastes and scents paled in comparison.

  “Tell me something about yourself. Something few people know.”

  It took her dazed mind a moment to realize he was making the same demand she had when they’d been staking out Peller’s house. How lovely that he remembered. She forced herself to think beyond her lust and regret. “Hmmm. Not many know I’m an avid gardener.”

  “Really?” He squinted slightly, as if t
rying to picture something in front of him. “You know, I can see it. You on your knees, a smudge on your cheek, your hair coming undone as wildflowers bloom all around you.”

  She let out an unexpected bark of laughter. “Much as I hate to destroy your image, the reality involves dirt, digging, weeding, and waiting. Nothing quite so salacious.”

  “I like my vision better.”

  “I’m sure you do. But it’s hardly a good distraction. I learned to garden from my aunt. She was a serious botanist, and believe me, if you had seen her work, you would never again think of gardening as anything but the most staid and scientific of endeavors. It’s hard to grow anything outside the dome because of all the toxins still in the dirt from the Wars, but she managed.” She fought to keep the hurt from her tone. “The challenge consumed her.”

  “Was she so single-minded about everything?” He put more food on her plate, but his gaze probed hers, hearing all she did not say.

  “She was a solemn person. I can’t even remember seeing her smile more than once or twice in my whole childhood.”

  DaKar’s expression darkened.

  “Please don’t think badly of her. She took me in when no one else would. And gardening was the one area where we truly came together. She loved her seeds and tools, and I loved the notion of being able to get dirty without a scolding.”

  She traced the edge of her spoon, her throat tight. “I sometimes wonder if what we planted is still growing wild. When she died, her estate passed on to some distant cousin who didn’t seem too interested in gardening. Still, I hope the flowers remain. I always liked the idea of planting something that would thrive even after I was gone.”

  He covered her hand with his. “I don’t know if it matters or not, but you’ve planted a seed of hope in me, and for that, I will be forever grateful.”

  I will not cry.

  “It does matter.” Willing herself back under control, she searched for a less painful subject. Her eyes lit on his fingers wrapped tight around hers. “You’re not wearing the ring you usually do. Why not?”

  He stilled, and then shrugged. “I haven’t been able to find it. I remember taking it off some lunar rotations ago and leaving it on my desk, but I haven’t seen it since.” He peered half-heartedly around. “It’s here somewhere. Probably just rolled under something near the desk. I’ll find it later.”

  His words were casual, but like her story, it wasn’t hard to hear all that wasn’t said. She didn’t need the surge of dark emotion that swelled from him to her to tell her what she already knew.

  “You don’t like it very much, do you?”

  “It helps to remind people of my legitimacy as the head of the Starlight family.”

  “Yes, but that is not what I asked.”

  He tilted his head to the side. With his pointer finger, he tapped a small scar under his chin, another near the nape of his neck, and a third near his temple. “All care of the ring—and my father.”

  Fury blazed through her. “Oh, no wonder. I hate that thing now, too.”

  He smiled, fangs flashing. “Good because it pinches and irritates. I should just let it remain lost…but, I don’t know, a part of me won’t let it go.”

  Her hand covered his. “I understand.”

  His jaw clenched tight and then his gaze shifted away. “Wait right there. I have something I want to show you.” He was over to his bookshelf and back in seconds.

  “Here.” He thrust the open book into her lap, and for the first time, something that felt like nerves pulsed through the golden threads from DaKar to her. “What do you think of this?” His eyes darted between the page and her. “It’s a drawing of my mother’s bedroom in the Palace where she grew up.”

  Her fingers curled around the edges of the book, her heart beating fast.

  “I was thinking about using it as a model for a new look for this bedroom,” he continued. “Do you see the way they implanted hundreds of tiny danashe stones into the ceiling and painted the background dark blue? Like a soul fusion. Or a thousand tiny lights twinkling in the dark.” He cleared his throat. “I know a certain someone who always wanted to see them.” He ran a knuckle down the slope of her cheek. “And though she definitely will firsthand, I thought we could steal them and keep the stars with us always.”

  Her head snapped up, the pain in her chest almost more than she could bear. “You are thinking of staying, then?”

  “Yes.” He watched her carefully. “I’ve discovered there’s a lot more to like on this planet than I originally thought, and I know it’s your home. I need to return to Phobos, but I’d like to split time between here and there. Start a family, become a contributing member of élithe society, shake things up in ways that benefit those who haven’t had anyone to speak for them before. With you by my side.”

  A single tear gathered on the edges of her lashes and spilled over. “It’s a good plan.”

  He reached out and caught a tear with his thumb. “Then why this?”

  Her tears fell faster. “I have every confidence you will be as great a presence on the board as you will a father and a husband.” Her words were barely a whisper by the end.

  “Tell me what’s wrong. Tell me so I can fix it.”

  She closed the book and placed it on the table. “You can’t fix it. And it can’t be me by your side.”

  His eyes stayed locked with hers, his expression part challenging, part command, but without surprise. He’d known where this was heading.

  Tension crackled in the air and through the bonds between them.

  Finally, he spoke. “You gave yourself to me and there will be no half measures. The soul fusion has begun and it will continue. I will send your stepfather the breeding contract proposal, but it doesn’t matter what he says. I will take you as mine with or without his permission.”

  Her wounds bled. Everything she’d ever wanted.

  She forced herself to push her seat back and stand. “That’s not possible.”

  His nostrils flared. “I thought we took care of this on the floater.”

  “Some things cannot be so easily swiped aside.”

  “You said you loved me.”

  “I do.”

  “Always running.” He shoved her chair aside, sending it skidding across the room “Ever since I saw you on that balcony you’ve kept a part of yourself out of reach.” His hand wrapped around her elbow. “Even now, I can feel it through the soul-bonding. You’re holding back a part of yourself. But your body knows to whom it belongs. Your body knows who it can trust.”

  He dragged her up against him. “You are mine.” His mouth captured hers in a fierce claiming kiss. “Whatever it is you fear. Whatever it is that keeps you from giving yourself to me completely, I will conquer it. Just as I have done everything else.”

  Her heart soared. Could he be right? Could she truly tell him everything and together they would find a way?

  He would do anything for her—even bring her the stars—just as she would for him.

  Except she could never put the man she loved in a position where he was forced to destroy his dreams in order to save hers.

  The only real way to protect him was the same solution as before, to remove herself from the equation. Even the soul-bonding couldn’t change that.

  Loving him meant letting him go. It meant saving him at the expense of herself.

  A sharp rap sounded against the door.

  34

  DaKar wanted to throw back his head and howl. The timing was shanus. He was losing her. Despite the start of the soul bonding, despite the growing connection between them, she was drifting further away than ever. He could see it in her eyes.

  The knock came again.

  “One bleeking minute,” he roared—and then modulated his voice when he saw Aurora’s eyes go wide. “This place is busier than the Pleasure Dome.”

  His attempt at a joke fell flat.

  Her stare was locked on the door. “Who do you think it is?”

  He forced
a smile when what he really wanted was to tell whoever was on the other side to go to Janus and then drag his female onto his lap until she sobbed out all her foolish fears and he erased them one by one. “I don’t know who it is. What I do know is that you and I are far from finished with our conversation.”

  She nodded. “Agreed.”

  He would have been relieved, but something that looked a lot like goodbye still shimmered in her gaze.

  “DaKar, you both better be decent.” Grayson’s voiced boomed through the door. “I’m coming in.”

  Now that was unexpected.

  Delicate fingers dug into his arm as the door slammed open.

  His friend looked more than a little disheveled.

  “What in the hells, man?” He curled a protective arm around Aurora.

  “I have news.” The male didn’t bother with the usual pleasantries. Which said something. Nothing usually ruffled Grayson’s uptight Executive self. Instead, his friend just offered a cursory nod in Aurora’s direction and then launched into speech, his jaw tight. “Miss Stanthorpe’s body was just found by the riverbed alongside the prostitute Latasha. Both females had been beaten to death.”

  Aurora’s shocked gasp echoed alongside his roar.

  “Janus hells, man.” He tightened his hold on his female, intending to carry her from the room. “Some warning next time. This is not something she needs to hear right now. I should whip your asht and—”

  “No, DaKar. Please.” She dug in her heels. “I need to stay and be a part of this. I am a part of this.” Her hand cupped his jaw. “I am fine.”

  But they both saw how badly her hand trembled.

  He saved his warning glare for his friend. “I appreciate the news, but perhaps you could modulate the delivery.”

  “Of course.” His friend looked chastened, for about an instant, but then the blunt ruthlessness that made him such an effective Federation spy kicked back in. “But there’s really no good way to sugarcoat the fact that your mistress and a prostitute you were seen visiting at the Pleasure Dome have both turned up dead. Someone is definitely tying up loose ends and seeking to bring you down in the process.”