by Liz Paffel
“I’m already your captive,” she burst as she tried to twist away from him. “What more punishment could there be?”
He spun her and forced her palms upon a wall. With a yelp, she tried to turn back around, but he pressed between her shoulder blades with one hand. Suddenly, the hem of her towel pulled up and cool air washed over her bare ass.
An appreciative rumble flowed from his throat. She couldn’t see a thing. The thought of being his prey in a dark room where he had every advantage caused her middle to clench in fear. A little thrill raced through her, too, mingling in her belly and darting between her legs.
“What are you doing?”
Something warm curved around her left ass cheek, molding to the mound of flesh and rubbing so softly, so gently there. A little moan welled in her throat, the sensation not at all unpleasant. Her cheeks heated with embarrassment. How could he? How could she?
Suddenly, the heat left, allowing a waft of cool air before a resounding slap filled the room and her flesh began to sting. She jerked in shock, too stunned to move. Another sudden seeping of sharp pain over her cheek, mixed with stinging heat and a slow, sensual, pleasurable burn. It took her brain a moment to recognize that he was spanking her!
“Are you spanking me?” The words burst from her mouth in an indignant shout.
Slap. Slap, slap.
Alora hung her head and shuddered, her mind sinking into itself in the familiar way but instead of blocking everything out, she was absorbing this. Her mind was warring with itself. This hurt, this was shameful! He was spanking her, but the heat felt good.
Her core was wet, needy. The pulse and throb between her legs had never happened outside of alone time with her vibrator and this was… this was… oh, goodness!
She arched her back as he spanked her again, his fingers running along the seam of her ass cheeks until he touched her inner thigh. Gently pushing her legs apart, he slid his hand between them and cupped her sex.
Her bottom sang with stinging, fading heat that spread like hot syrup between her legs. No man had ever touched her there! This couldn’t be happening, yet she couldn’t pull herself together enough to stop him.
The King had his hand on her pussy.
The alien King.
Her King.
Her mate.
“No, no, no,” she panted. “I can’t.”
“You are dripping for me, little scientist. You liked your punishment, didn’t you?”
She shook her head though her entire body trembled at his words.
“Tell me the truth.”
Heat from his palm permeated her sex, jacking her body temperature until moisture beaded along her hairline. “Why am I so… why am I so damn hot?”
“Because you desire my cock inside you. Being punished has unlocked your need to be bred.” His hand moved slowly back and forth, creating friction against the lips of her sex. Her wetness coated him, slicking against her with each motion he made.
“I can’t do that,” she whimpered. The need to grind down against his hand was nearly overpowering.
He jerked her hips back against him, something long and hard pressed into the back of her thigh. Of it’s on volition, she rubbed herself against him, knowing his cock was pressing into her flesh, wanting it so much. He traced a finger at her seam and her body moved, wiggled, thrust as pleasure burst up all over. She pushed back against him and he pressed his finger inside, slowly, testing her. She clamped around him with a moan, uttering something even she couldn’t understand.
“You are so tight. Untouched.”
His body arched around hers, heat pressing between them, but she barely noticed anymore. She just needed… she needed.
Suddenly, he pulled away and the lights came on, growing from soft to bright. Alora blinked hard, completely dazed over what was happening. He spun her, and it was like seeing his face for the first time. The handsome composition of his features, so foreign and movie-like, yet alluring in a way no human male had ever been to her. His eyes were glowing. The hexagon pattern was glowing, the shimmer of it calling her to touch it. She resisted, afraid if she did, he’d shock her like an electric fence.
“Why have you not taken a man inside you?”
Her mouth dropped open. “I—I don’t know? I tried once but he… he… “
His jaw tightened. “He, what?”
“Finished while he still had his jeans on. All we did was kiss.”
His brow scrunched as if he were trying to interpret what she said, and then a look of knowing crossed his face, and his expression turned serious. Gripping her chin with his hand, he forced her face up. “What is my name?”
He’d told her once, and she’d yet to say it out loud. She didn’t want to. It made him more impersonal if she only thought of him as the King. “The King.”
“That is not my name. Say my name.”
Her body ached fiercely, the neediness of it overriding her resolve to be stubborn. “Tryllin.”
“And who am I to you?”
“The bastard who kidnapped me.”
He hitched one brow. “And?”
The thrum of need refused to ebb out of her system. She still wanted him, his body, but nothing else. “You’re the alien who abducted me.”
His nostrils flared, his fingers tightening around her chin. “And?”
“I don’t know. You’re nothing else to me.”
A low growl came from his throat. Pressing his forearms against the wall on either side of her head, he leaned low onto them, so his chest pressed against hers. His hips turned into her, the hard length of his cock pressing against her pelvis.
“I will change that, Alora. You’re my captive and my scientist, but I swear, I will be the man you crave. That you beg to have inside you.”
He moved away, leaving her bereft and empty as he spun to walk down a short hallway, overhead lights coming on as he moved down the hall. Her chest heaved as she struggled to get ahold of herself. He wanted her to think of him as her lover… to crave him. God, she already did.
Rubbing a hand over her face, she followed him.
A large living area came into view, the sofa and loveseat plush white, boxy metal end tables looking very much like something from a spaceship. The far wall was covered in greenery composed of succulents and ferns and other fauna she didn’t recognize, with vines trailing from the ceiling to the floor.
“In my sleeping room, you’ll find a variety of clothing items. Choose what you would like. Dress and be prepared to be escorted back to your quarters in twenty minutes.”
Alora tightened her grip on the towel. First, he’d wanted her in the captive’s dress, and now he wanted her in his clothing.
“What happens for the rest of the day?”
“You will eat. Rest. Sleep, and prepare for tomorrow.”
She was almost afraid to ask. “What’s tomorrow?”
Tryllin brushed a finger over her cheek. Turned, and walked away.
Chapter Eight
Hahn hadn’t reported in for nearly twenty-four hours.
Tryllin checked the comm device on his wrist and tapped it to reveal the location information populated from the tracking device in his brother’s custom bio-armor. A little green dot blipped on the map, showing that Hahn was in motion. Tryllin increased the screen with a shake of his wrist which suspended the grid in the air like a giant screen. Using his index finger and thumb, he spread his fingers apart, increasing the size and clarity of the grid. Street names popped up, along with crystal clear images of buildings, trees, pavement.
The blip decreased in intensity. Hahn was in forward motion, but the blip turned from green to blue, and then erased from the screen. Hahn had gone underground.
Tryllin let out a frustrated grunt. He pressed a finger on his comm device to send a soundless signal to Hahn. A moment later, his brother’s face appeared on the screen. He was in full bio-armor, a helmet with curved mask over his face, full body suit with force and wave-blocking panels, heat and pun
cture resistant layers and a hidden weaponry compartment. Tryllin had momentary jealousy. He missed his suit, missed scouting missions like these. Since becoming King, he’d been resigned to sit back and give the orders. It was now his job to organize and plan and watch on the sidelines with a hefty dose of envy for those he sent out.
Hahn’s weapon was drawn, his face tight, voice strained and low. “We’re following them now.”
“How many?”
“There were five, but we killed one. The others fled, leading us here.”
Tryllin’s entire body tensed. “It could be a trap.”
“We’re prepared, brother. Don’t worry.”
He did worry. Hahn was all he had left on this planet.
“Tryllin,” Hahn whispered. “The Nozing we killed looked heavily mutated. Whatever they are doing to themselves is turning them into monsters.”
Their enemy had been modifying their genetics as long as Tryllin could remember. They tampered with forced evolution of the Nozing species, experimenting on their own kind in a never-ending strive to create perfection. They wanted to dominate the galaxy and were determined to create a generation of Nozing who would be superior to any other species.
“Go dark, finish up, and get back here safely.”
“Hahn, out.”
Tryllin closed the grid and stared at the wall as the urge to race to his brother’s side nearly consumed him. He was a warrior, a fighter. It was hard to give that up in order to stay back and command. When his father had handed down the kingship to him, it had been with explicit orders: Make alliances with the humans, rebuild our warrior’s strength and power, solicit females when the time is right. And stay alive.
His father was a disgrace to their people, but his words were wise.
Tryllin straightened his spine. He was the King now, and his place was to be surrounded by warriors who would fight to the death to keep him safe, not be one of them. It made him restless, but what was done, was done.
It didn’t get past him that Alora felt a similar way. Confined by her duty inside these walls when her true passion called her somewhere else. She’d mentioned that working in her laboratory was the only thing that mattered to her. Being a warrior made him the man he was; being King was his duty to his people. Being a scientist gave Alora her core, but following his command was her new duty.
They were both stifled inside their roles.
Soon, things would be different. Once the Nozing were eradicated, the Axxeon could inhabit their new home on Axxeon 9 without the constant threat of enemy attack. Alora would fulfill the destiny he’d written for her three years ago, and he would honor his duty to his people to clear the path for a safe, new life, free of the enemy that nagged them at every turn.
Leaving his quarters, he went to Command and found Quixx monitoring footage of the fires. The flames had slowly encroached onto other buildings, leaving an entire block engulfed. No one was working to put the flames out.
“There’s another fire, here, at this medical center. I watched the flames ignite myself.”
Tryllin peered at the building, his chest tightening. It was Alora’s place of employment. He recognized it from having mapped it from the signal on her implanted tracking device. “No one is fighting the flames.”
People lined the street in frantic clusters, watching half of the hospital burn. Alora’s laboratory was in the East complex, in the basement. The flames had a distance to travel to reach it, but knowing how intense the heat was from a degarzee fire, it was only a matter of time.
Quixx set his jaw. “Intel shows that all local fire stations are empty of personnel, my King. The death toll has risen yet again.”
They flicked through various images of the city. There wasn’t a firetruck to be found.
Quixx remained silent, but his lips drew into a grim line. “We wait to hear of ransom from our enemy.”
“No!” Tryllin barked and pulled up a communications screen from his wrist device. He needed to find Hahn’s location. “We do not wait. We intervene.”
He ran a hand over his mouth and tempered the fury building inside. Word had already spread through the compound that the Nozing had slipped past their detection systems and planted on Earth. He’d only been King for three short years. In that time, he’d overseen the construction of their new home and made a pact with human leaders for resources and females. He’d made good strides in securing his people’s future. But he’d yet to face a violent threat, even though he knew it was only a matter of time. He’d prepared and now he had to deliver.
His people had been through so much. They were still scared, afraid, nervous. Those emotions drove the masses to make unwise decisions and react on fear instead of rationality. It would take a strong leader to hold them together. With a grunt, Tryllin pushed aside his resentment over losing his warrior status. He had to pull this off.
“Pull up the city maps and a hundred-mile radius. Mark any location that is suitable for the Nozing to land ships. Send units with protac scanners to each location to scan for any cloaked vessels. Probe any and all open areas large enough to hold a craft. If they’re responsible for taking so many captives, they’re either holding them in a compound in similar size to ours, or they’ve taken them to a holding ship off planet.”
The protac scanner sent out a web of proton laser probes that detected heat signatures that couldn’t be seen with the bare eye. A design flaw in Nozing vessels caused them to intermittently emit heat signatures that couldn’t be contained by a cloaking shield. The Axxeon had developed the protac scanner to pick up the finest trace of heat emanating from a cloaked vessel. Considering how easily the Nozing had gotten through the atmospheric monitoring, Tryllin suspected they’d created a stronger cloaking shield, one that may have fixed the faulty heat emissions.
Quixx sneered. “It is time to erase these pests from the galaxy. How do you plan to use the human to infect our enemies, my King?”
A chill went down Tryllin’s spine. His nostrils flared, his solar skin heating at the thought of the human woman. He’d created Alora for one sole purpose, but now the thought of it made him uneasy. His palms tingled at the memory of her smooth, round bottom beneath his hand. She’d been so tight and wet when he’d invaded her sex with his fingers.
“You will be informed when it is time. Until then, you’ll not speak a word about it in her presence.”
Quixx would never disobey or undermine him, but his dislike for humans may prompt a slip of his tongue.
Quixx raised a brow. “The woman does not know her fate?”
“She does not know. And by your mother’s heart, she will only find out from my lips, when I am ready to tell her.”
“Understood, my King.” A satisfied smile pulled Quixx’s lips. Tryllin wanted to punch it off. The man was his third in command under Hahn, and his distaste of humans was concerning. All Axxeon had been wary of humans when they’d first arrived, as was to be expected. But Quixx’s hatred continued to grow, deepen and putrefy.
He turned fully to face his warrior. “Do you understand me, Quixx?”
The commander’s brow knitted together. He bowed his head, lowering his eyes. “Yes, my King.”
“Whatever this hatred of humans is that you have in your heart must stop. You will be taking a mate soon, and since the last remaining Axxeon females are already mated, you have no choice but to be mated with a human.”
Quixx’s jaw hardened. “I came to Jahtal too late.”
Tryllin’s eyes widened with understanding. “I did not know about your intentions with her. I am sorry.”
“To see her here every day is to be reminded that she chose another. To choose a human female feels impossible and disgusting to me.”
Tryllin thought of Alora’s soft breasts and the taste of her willing mouth. Given time, his warrior would find comfort in a human woman’s body. Maybe, even love.
“You have a mission now. It is your focus. Go.”
Quixx turned away as if he couldn�
�t get out of there fast enough.
Tryllin did not envy his man’s longing for a woman he could not have. Jahtal had been mated to a security officer shortly after Axxeon 8 had died. They’d recently birthed a daughter, the most joyous moment since coming to this planet.
The comm device on his wrist buzzed, a flashing red box popping into the air. “Excuse me, Sir, but the captive is demanding to see you. I informed her that was not possible—"
“I’ll be right there.”
Worried that something was wrong with Alora, he hurried to her room, squeezing inside the cell door before it had fully opened. She was pacing, her thumb taping against her lower lip, seemingly lost in her own thoughts.
A very confused looking warrior was standing near the door. Relief flushed his features when he spied Tryllin. He bowed low, his features setting as if preparing to be scolded.
“What is the issue?”
“I overheard your men talking,” Alora said as she paced, absently tapping her thumb against her lower lip. “My lab is going to burn.”
His brow fell. How had anyone heard so quickly? Quixx must have said something to one of his men upon first discovery.
She turned sad, blazing eyes on him. “Do you know where these fires are originating from? Are they alien in nature?”
Tryllin crossed the room to her, but she diverted and began pacing the other way. She’d put on an oversized shirt knitted from yarn they synthesized to resemble wool. It was huge on her, even though she had it pulled around her body and the sleeves over her hands like mittens.
“Yes.”
“Are they yours, or the people you want me to help you kill?”
“They are Nozing in origin.”
“Nozing.” She whispered the name over and over. “How are they setting the fires? Why are they so hard to stop?”
“You are not here to worry about the fires.”
“I am, because I have no choice. My brother is a fireman and he’s missing. I have to believe the fires are connected to that somehow. And, my lab is going to burn. All of my research—”