Her Alien Beast

by Presley Hall

  “Gently,” he coaxes, his low voice rumbling right into my ear.

  Goosebumps break out down my arms, and the sudden shiver that rakes down my spine is harsh enough that I have to bite back a gasp. Swallowing, I pull on the root with him. The peach-like thing comes free very slowly, and I have a fleeting thought that it’s a good thing I’ve got steady hands. I’m used to performing procedures on patients, but that feels like a lifetime ago now, and I certainly didn’t have any assistants this close to help me.

  Axen exhales as the fruit comes free. My eyes widen as the silvery roots start to wriggle in our grasp.

  “Wrap them around,” he urges.

  I do, finding that the flesh of the peach is sticky and clings to the vines eagerly. They stop writhing, unable to break free of the fruit’s grasp. I hold it in my hands, marveling at this strange planet and all the things that grow on it.

  Axen’s hand settles on my back, and when I meet his gaze, he’s smiling broadly, his amber eyes bright with victory.

  “One of those will fill at least three syringes,” he tells me.

  “That’s great.” It’s not a lot in the grand scheme of things, but anything is better than what we have.

  The little peach-like thing sits in my palm, and I know I should put it away in the satchel, but I can’t seem to move. I can’t look away from Axen.

  He doesn’t seem in any hurry to break this moment either. His hand is warm and solid against my back, his body crouched in a way that highlights his broad shoulders and the thickness of the muscles in his thighs. I’m so aware of him—of the rich, musky scent that clings to him, and the way his blue skin has an almost pearlescent sheen. He’s so clearly not human, but he’s still one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  The surge of electricity and heat that I’ve started to associate with the mate bond, rises up in me, and I’m helpless to resist it. I bite my lower lip, the logical side of my mind slowly growing static and silent. Axen’s gaze drops to my mouth at the motion, and he sucks in a breath.

  He will always want me.

  That’s what he told me, and I have no reason to doubt him.

  Even if I try to fight it, his desire for me is an unequivocal fact. Looking into his eyes now, I feel the truth of it deep in my bones. Deep in other parts of me too. My pulse is racing, and there’s a pool of liquid heat gathering in my belly.

  I carefully set the fruit down and reach for him, cupping his chiseled jaw. He leans his head into my hand like a cat, his fingers curling just a little against my back. He’s so warm, radiating heat like a star, drawing me closer and making me shiver as I ache for more of it.

  I’m not cold, but I feel frozen solid, desperate to draw him close and let him melt me from the inside out.

  “Elizabeth,” he whispers. It’s both a question and… something more.

  I try to scramble for my resolve, for any reason why I shouldn’t lean in and kiss him. But I keep coming up empty, again and again. I want to sink into his arms. I want to feel him on top of me, inside me, soothing the ache that’s starting to build, the emptiness that demands friction and heat.

  Still cupping his face, I shift toward him. I want to kiss him so badly that the world has narrowed down to just the two us. I can’t remember wanting anything more in my life.

  Just one kiss.

  Just one, so I can see how it feels.

  His knee slides between mine, our legs interlocking as he meets me, just as eager, his hand sliding up my back to wind through my hair. I gasp as it feels like my entire body explodes with desire. The inferno blazing through my veins only burns hotter when he takes advantage of my parted lips and slides his tongue into my mouth.

  Fuck. I can’t have just one.

  The second our mouths meet, I want another.

  I practically lunge for him, the hunger consuming me and making me feel almost feral with the need to feel more of his body against me. He growls softly, catching me like I weigh nothing and rolling us until I’m on my back on the soft grass.

  He looms over me like this, solid and strong, one hand in my hair and the other gripping my hip tightly to keep me down. My legs spread without conscious choice, my skirt riding up to bare my thighs. I need him, his hands on me, his body over mine.

  He growls again, that delicious predatory sound that makes me arch and moan weakly. His lips move over my skin, kissing my jaw and trailing down to my throat as he mutters words too soft for me to decipher even with the multi-language implant. His hand leaves my hip and slides up my thigh, his fingers easily making their way beneath my makeshift clothes.

  At the first brush of his fingertips between my legs, I moan loudly, glad that we’re far enough from the village not to be overheard, and dig my fingernails into his strong back. I’m careful with his wound, but I’m far too small to really hurt him.

  He lets out a rough sound, satisfied and eager all at once, and licks over my pulse, his teeth grazing my skin with the barest touch in a way that only makes me want him more.

  This man is an alien—a predatory species. He could absolutely rip me apart if he wanted to.

  But he won’t. He doesn’t want to. He just wants to make me feel good. I feel that truth all the way down to my bones as he wrings another soft gasp from me, his lips grazing my pulse as his fingers tighten in my hair.

  Every half-formed thought in my head is swept away by a sudden rush of anticipation as he pushes my clothes to one side and one of his thick fingers runs over my entrance, testing my wetness. I spread my legs wider and gasp, arching up as his thumb swipes up and catches on my clit.

  He pauses and lifts his head, his amber eyes glinting. He repeats the motion of his thumb, head tilted like he’s testing my reactions, and I groan softly. My eyelids are heavy with pleasure, drooping half closed.

  It feels like the lightning that crackles between us—the bond—makes everything so much more intense. Just the gentle brush of his thumb has me arching off the ground, desperately seeking more.

  Axen’s nostrils flare. “Feel good?” he rasps.

  I can only nod frantically, clawing at his biceps as he touches my clit again, rubbing smooth circles around it before giving it another more purposeful brush. My thighs shake, clenching around him. He leans down and kisses me again, the pressure of his lips harder and hungrier now, and I groan into his mouth.

  He twists his hand, still giving my clit all the attention it wants as another finger rubs at my entrance and starts to slowly push inside.

  “Fuck.” My harsh whisper fills the quiet air.

  I cling to him tightly as he sinks his thick finger inside me, his other arm pressed flat to the ground so he can hold himself up and not crush me. It gives me all the freedom I want to writhe beneath him, kissing him hard. When our lips finally break apart, I press kisses to his neck, his jaw, his shoulder, desperate for a taste of him. For more.

  More.

  As if he’s heard my silent plea, he pushes his finger as deep as it can go and curls it, drawing back just as slowly. He growls into my ear as I drag my nails down his chest and bite down helplessly at his throat.

  “More,” I demand, out loud this time. It’s an order he eagerly obeys.

  He works a second finger into my pussy, curling them both so that I feel impossibly full. The slow drag of his fingertips over the sensitive place inside me makes me whimper, and his thumb keeps sliding over my clit.

  Axen figures out quickly what I like, brushing his thumb from side to side and focusing the curl of his fingers closer to my entrance. My g-spot, the analytical side of my brain reminds me. The rest of my brain is too swept up in pleasure to give a fuck what it’s called.

  He’s panting, rubbing our foreheads together while we both fight for air. I slide my hands into his hair and kiss him desperately, my heels digging into the ground as I lift my hips into his skilled touch.

  God, it’s like he’s building a roadmap to every sensitive part of my body. My heart is racing, and I feel l
ike I might burst into flames beneath him. I’ve never felt so alive with someone else touching me like this.

  It’s insane, and I have no idea how to explain it or justify it, but in this moment, I don’t care. I just want to feel.

  “Akhi. You’re so wet,” he breathes, like he can’t believe it himself. He moans softly as I clench around him, the sound of his voice sending another shiver down my spine. “By all the gods, Elizabeth, you taste so slanching good.”

  I laugh weakly, my breath coming out in another soft, helpless sound. It’s like there’s a feedback loop between us, and every touch shoves my pleasure higher and higher. I kiss him desperately as I feel myself start to let go, tremors running down every inch of my body as he makes me come harder than I have in my entire life.

  Axen growls into my mouth, the sound heavy with satisfaction.

  When the last shudders of my orgasm have finally subsided, he lifts his head and meets my eyes, smiling as he takes in the sight of me beneath him. I can only imagine what I look like right now, my eyes half-lidded, my cheeks flushed, and my entire body slack with sated relief.

  He pulls his fingers out slowly and leans down to kiss my collarbone and my breasts through my makeshift top, then down the line of my stomach. He cradles my hips and nuzzles my lower belly, breathing in deeply.

  I tense, the boneless feeling fading instantly. My muscles go rigid.

  There’s no visible baby bump yet, and I doubt pregnancy hormones give off a scent, but I can’t stop thinking about Axen smelling it on me somehow. Surely, when he realizes I’m pregnant with another man’s baby, he won’t want me anymore. He won’t want to raise a child that isn’t his own.

  It’s just another visceral reminder of everything I’ve been trying to forget, and everything that’s so out of control in my life.

  The shock of reality cuts right through the afterglow of my orgasm, leaving me feeling frozen and sick.

  I sit up abruptly and push Axen away. He’s so much larger than me that I’d have no chance of moving him if he refused to budge, but he doesn’t resist. He leans back on his heels, watching me with a frown as I tug my clothes back into place and crawl a few paces back, away from him.

  He meets my gaze, confusion and hurt burning in his cat-like irises. My chest tightens, and I try to think of something to tell him—something that isn’t a weak excuse and isn’t the truth I’m still too scared to say.

  But no words come to me.

  14

  Axen

  I stare at my mate, feeling as dazed and disoriented as if I suddenly hit a wall in a full charge.

  My cock is throbbing, desperate for relief. She’s still panting, flushed and breathless from her release. I can smell how wet she is, see how dark and wide her pupils are, the fine sheen of sweat on her gorgeous body.

  The noises she made were the sweetest things I have ever heard. I want to wring more out of her. The need to claim her completely is almost overwhelming. In my mind, a beast paces behind the bars of its cage and roars its frustration to the sky.

  As I watch Elizabeth, she grows more and more tense, biting her lower lip, eyes lowering as if in shame.

  It’s then that I remember. She doesn’t want me.

  She said it wasn’t me, that it was her problem, but I have no idea how that can be the case. There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s perfect. Beautiful and strong and capable. She’s everything in the world to me.

  So I must be the problem.

  I am weak. I’m useless with my injuries. I can’t actually protect her. Even now, along with the painful throb of my cock, my side stings terribly as well. I was lost in the high of pleasing her before, of wringing those addicting noises from her and so in love with how she kissed me and clung to me, inside and out.

  It hurts now. The pain in my chest and the throb of my cock and the ache in my side all vie to be at the forefront of my consciousness.

  My mate remains motionless before me. I take a deep breath and push myself to my feet, wincing when my injured side sends pain shooting all the way through my body. It helps to tame my arousal, but the frustration at my own weakness lingers. If I wasn’t injured, perhaps she would want me.

  Elizabeth’s gaze drops to my wound, and she clears her throat. “We should… we should get back to the village.”

  I nod, clenching my jaw, my fingers curling into fists at my side. I go and gather up her satchel and the little epoxy fruit we gathered as she gets to her feet. She takes her bag from me, but when she offers her arm to help support my weight on the trek back, I hold up a hand and shake my head, stepping away.

  I have calmed down—at least, that part of my anatomy has—but if she touches me again, I know I’ll be hard again instantly. And I don’t know if I’ll be able to restrain myself a second time. The mate bond already overwhelmed us both once, and I would rather die than force myself on her.

  We walk back slowly to the village, the silence between us more awkward and tense than it has ever been. When the walls of the settlement come into view, she swallows and looks at me. “Thank you for coming with me. It was a big help. Even if you made up the names of some things.”

  “Of course,” I reply stiffly.

  “I’m impressed that you know what so many of these plants do,” she continues. “You have an aptitude for botany. Did you study this stuff, back on Vox?”

  The idea that she sees me as a scholar makes me chuckle, easing a bit of the tension in my shoulders.

  “I was never one to study,” I tell her, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I was always a fighter. Growing up, my brother was always a much better student than I was.”

  “Oh!” She glances at me, her eyes wide and bright with curiosity. “I didn’t realize one of the Voxerans here is your brother. Which one is he?”

  My stomach tightens. I didn’t mean to bring up Vendar. It’s too easy to talk to her, and the mention of him just slipped out. I clear my throat and press my lips together, looking down at the ground as we continue to make our way slowly to the gates.

  “Vendar was my younger brother,” I tell her. “He died in the rebellion back on Vox.”

  She stops walking suddenly. When I look at her, she has a hand over her mouth, her expression horrified and sad. I ache to go to her and embrace her, to soothe her sadness, but of course, I can’t.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, looking guilty for even asking. “I didn’t know.”

  My heart clenches at the anguish in her voice, the guilt. I shake my head. “It’s my fault he died,” I tell her. “When Drokar stole power, I felt that I had to do something. That I needed to help those who were standing against the tyrant king.” I gesture vaguely toward the settlement. “I joined the rebellion to help Droth. I wanted to keep Vendar out of it, to protect him.” Elizabeth nods slowly, taking a step closer as I continue. “But he always looked up to me. He knew I had chosen Droth’s side, and he got involved in the rebellion as well, without my knowledge. By the time I found out, it was… too late.”

  My mate’s face softens, and she shakes her head.

  “That’s awful, Axen. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to lose a sibling. I understand now why you fight so hard,” she murmurs. “But it’s not your fault. You can’t control what other people do. None of us can.” She drags her fingers through her soft brown hair. “Anytime I lost a patient back on Earth, I would blame myself for not being better, faster, just altogether more for them. But sometimes shit just happens, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

  I meet her gaze. My entire body, my soul, strains with the desire to touch her. I know she means it when she says that Vendar’s death wasn’t my fault, but I have carried that guilt for far too long to simply let it go.

  The softness in her eyes calls to me. I want to believe her words so badly, to believe that the affection in her smile means she might, one day, accept me as her mate. When I’m healed and strong again. When I can protect her again.

  But I k
now such things are not meant to be.

  I swallow and tear my gaze from hers, continuing toward the village.

  15

  Elizabeth

  We walk the remaining way back in silence.

  My mind is whirring from the story Axen told me. So much of what I know about him makes sense now.

  It’s no wonder a man like that, who has suffered such a deep loss, fights the way he does. His brother’s death birthed that feral beast I’ve seen inside him. I wish I could take his guilt away, soothe him and comfort him somehow. I wish I could heal that wound in his heart like I might set a broken bone or stitch up a cut.

  I can’t. I know I can’t, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to.

  Adjusting the satchel on my shoulder, I set my gaze forward as we walk together in charged silence. I was an only child, and my mother and stepfather never wanted or loved me. I never felt familial love, but I can tell that Axen loved his brother dearly. I’m sure Vendar loved him too.

  I wish I could comfort the man beside me, but the lingering awkwardness stops me from trying. What could I possibly say, after what happened back there between us?

  What I let happen.

  What I practically begged to have happen.

  I can still feel little tingles between my legs, and my lips are sensitive and sore from his bruising, desperate kisses. My neck, too, throbs with the marks that I’m sure will darken and show up eventually. In all my life, I’ve never been kissed like that. I’ve never been touched like that before.

  I shouldn’t have let it happen. It only made things worse and so much more confusing. For a moment, I gave him a glimmer of hope, and I would probably have let him keep going if he hadn’t accidentally reminded me of my pregnancy.