Kidnapping His Rebel: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Zalaryn Conquerors Book 2)

by Viki Storm

  “A mate and offspring are no burden,” Bantokk says solemnly. “They are a joy and a privilege. A blessing that all too few are granted by the Universe.”

  “I know that,” I say. I point to my head. “Up here I know that. I know it should make me happy. I’m just afraid that it won’t. That I won’t feel the joy here.” I point to my heart. “That something inside me is broken and instead of feeling joy I’ll be smothered by the responsibility. That I might abandon you—or our child. And I don’t think I could live with myself if I was the sort of person who would abandon an innocent child.”

  “You aren’t that person,” he says. “I can feel it. And once our bonding is complete, you will understand. You will realize that it is no obligation to join your life with mine. It will not drag you down—it will lift you up.”

  “I want that to be true,” I say.

  “It is,” he says. “You are a human, but you share many characteristics of the Zalaryn. You are a warrior. You are a fighter. I have no doubt you will be a loyal mate and devoted mother.” I feel another surge of guilt at his words.

  “Can you stop with the whole ‘heart of a warrior’ thing? You don’t know what I’ve done.”

  “I know you’re a fighter and a survivor. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Those are admirable traits.”

  “I’m also a coward,” I say. I need to tell him. I need to tell someone. “I told you a little of how I escaped, but I didn’t tell you everything.”

  “Okay,” he says. “So tell me. I guarantee it will not change my perception of you.”

  “You never asked how I got the scar on my face,” I say.

  “It is not customary in Zalaryn culture to inquire about the nature of a wound,” he says.

  “Well, I will tell you. I did it to myself.”

  “You what?” he asks. I can tell he did not expect that answer.

  “Yes, I did it. When they told me they finally found a buyer, they allowed me to bathe and gave me some halfway suitable clothes. I was led into a small shower stall and given a bar of soap. It was the first time I’d touched soap in over two years. Inside the shower, there was a small mirror. I looked at myself. I was gaunt and my eyes looked more than a little crazy, but I could still see myself objectively for what I was: a pretty young woman. So I smashed the mirror and took a piece of the glass. I put the piece of glass to my wrists. I was going to cut them open and bleed out in the shower. Better be dead than let them win. I pushed in the glass a little bit and tried to do it… but I couldn’t.” I hold my wrist out for his inspection. I still have a tiny dimpled scar from where I pressed the glass. “I didn’t have the nerve to do it. I was too cowardly to take the coward’s way out, how’s that for irony? I could still see my reflection in the cracked mirror, and I was filled with such an overwhelming feeling of self-disgust and self-pity. Some asshole wants a pretty young human for his harem, well, fuck him, I thought, he can have this instead. I put the piece of glass to my face and started to cut. That, at least, I was able to do. By then, my shower time was up and the guard who was waiting in the bathroom turned off the water and opened the shower cabinet. He was shocked when he saw me covered in blood, and that moment of shock is what killed him. I took the piece of glass and put it into his neck. Then I got dressed, took his weapon, and killed three more before I found my way off the ship. You know the rest.”

  Bantokk is silent for a long time before he finally speaks. “You were not allowed to kill yourself. Your life is not your own, don’t you understand that by now? None of us asks to be born and none of us get to choose when we die. It wasn’t your time. It is not cowardly to try to kill yourself. That’s a well-known tactic in warfare. The enemy is coming? Burn your own crops to spite him. Likewise, it is not cowardly to not kill yourself. There is no way to judge that action because it’s not really your choice. Do you understand?”

  “Maybe,” I say. I think I get what he’s trying to say, but I don’t like the idea of being a pawn in some big scheme of the Universe. That might be comforting to some people, but not me. I like control. I like independence. I like doing things my way.

  “I was supposed to climb on your ship,” he says. “If you weren’t the person you are, you wouldn’t have told us to fuck off when we asked you to stand down. But you did, and I was forced to board your ship and enlist your help.”

  “Enlist my help?” I say. “That’s a nice way of putting it.”

  “How else to phrase it?” he says.

  “You tied me up, kidnapped me, and impressed me into service.”

  “Same thing,” he says. “But the fact remains, my ship was meant to dock onto yours. The moment our ships connected and became one, so did our fates. We were always meant to end up here, in bed together, on Lekyo Prime.”

  “But—” I say. He stops me with a kiss.

  “You think too much,” he says. “You can’t control everything. So relax. Let the Universe join us together.”

  He kisses me again and rolls on top of me. When he breaks the kiss, I can see that his chest is full-purple, dark as a prune. Something inside me does relax a little bit. Like a flexing muscle inside my brain, and I can feel it letting go.

  He starts to unbutton my sleeping gown. After three buttons, my breasts are bared to his touch. He caresses them gently, his light touch driving me mad. This is no fervent groping inside a storage closet on a Rulmek warship. This is something else. Something different. I can feel it. Whatever bonding process is happening between us. Whatever molecules are changing, whatever chemicals in my brain are signaling. I can feel it.

  So I let go.

  And let him claim me.

  As I claim him.

  LIA

  I never imagined that there could be this much desire, this much wanting. Bantokk takes my nipples gently between his fingers, and like a skilled musician tuning his instrument, he plays me, teases me, makes me ache so bad between my legs I think I will explode.

  “Do you like it when I touch you like this?” he asks.

  “Fuck yes,” I say.

  “Then you’re really going to like this.” He stops playing with my nipples and I let out a spoiled whine.

  “I don’t like this at all,” I complain.

  “Be patient,” he says. His hands are at the buttons of my gown, and he slowly undoes one at a time until it is open and my nude body is bared to him. He gathers up the gown and pulls it off of me. His hands are on my knees, spreading my legs apart. He traces a line with his tongue from my knee to my inner thigh, stopping just short of my sex. My folds are still pressed together, and he kisses them, slowly, first with just his lips, then nibbling a little, sucking, pulling them into his mouth. I’m aching for release, the throbbing between my legs more than I can stand. He prods my knees up and further apart, and I feel my folds opening, exposing the inner pink flesh to him. He covers me with his mouth and for a moment does nothing but rest his tongue against my sensitive nub. Then he starts to slide it back and forth ever so slightly. I can feel the sensory pads on his tongue gliding over me, heightening the sensation. Then he gently draws my clit into his mouth and begins a rhythmic pulsing that is part suction and part licking and part I don’t know what else except pure pleasure.

  I am writhing underneath him, pumping my hips like a fiend. I have lost all modesty and control, and I do not care in the slightest.

  I feel his finger pressing against my opening. “I’m going to loosen you up first,” he says. “I’m going to get you ready to take my cock.”

  All I can do is moan as he slides his finger inside me. “You’re so wet,” he says as his finger slips in easily. There is a little pressure as he fits it inside, but no pain. Right now, there is no such thing as pain. I’m not even sure what pain is because all that exists is pleasure and desire.

  My cunt grips his finger as he moves it in and out. I feel myself loosening a little. “Are you ready for two fingers?” he asks. When he speaks, he keeps his lips pressed against my clit, and the sensati
on of his breath and the vibrations of his deep voice make me shiver. I’m close to something, I can feel it building low in my belly.

  “Yes,” I squeal. He takes his finger out and instantly I crave him to be back inside me. I yearn for our flesh to be united. This is it, the bonding. Now I can see that the physical act is something more. Something transcendent.

  He presses two fingers against me and gently works them inside. “Your little pussy is so tight,” he says. “I need to stretch you out a little if I’m going to get my cock inside you.”

  I feel myself getting looser as his fingers slide in and out faster and easier. Between the sensation of his mouth on my clit and his fingers brushing some magical spot inside me, I’m about to lose it.

  “Do you want to come?” he asks me.

  “Yes,” I scream out.

  “Then ask me for my cock,” he says. “Ask me to take your virginity.”

  “Please give me your cock,” I say. I can’t believe I’m saying something so filthy. Under normal circumstances this language would make me blush, but these are obviously not normal circumstances, and any inhibitions I might have once felt are long gone. “I want you to be my first.”

  “I’m not just going to be your first,” he says. He’s propped himself up and is repositioning himself between my legs. His cock feels heavy and thick as it presses at my opening, but the tip goes in easily, as his fingers stretched me out. “I’m going to be your only,” he says. He pushes himself all the way inside, thrusting hard, and I feel his cock pushing against that magical spot inside me that his fingers were playing with just moments before.

  I cry out in pleasure I didn’t know was possible. This is pleasure of the body and the spirit. I feel it, I feel everything. Every inch of his cock as it slides in and out, stretching my pussy. Every thrust as his tip hits the spot deep inside me that makes my whole body seize with pleasure. Every cell and molecule in his body now creating a chemical bond with every cell and molecule inside my body.

  My pleasure builds until an orgasm hits me with the force of a storm wind. I move my hips in time with his and ride my waves of pleasure as they climb higher and higher.

  Just when I think the sensations are dying down, he puts his hand on my clit and begins to stroke me slowly in time with his thrusts, and I feel a whole new cycle beginning. My pleasure builds again, incrementally, like a racehorse edging towards the finish line. And this time when I explode, so does he, groaning and thrusting deep and pulling me tight against him.

  He stays inside me for a long minute and then rolls back onto the bed. We are both utterly spent. And I know that he was right about everything. It all seems simple now. Why was I so worried about whether or not I’d lose my so-called freedom or if I’d chafe at having to rely on another person? My whole perspective has shifted. Why did I think it was so damned impossible to leave the Three-Star Rebels and my ship and my crew? Why did that seem so much more important than this?

  And not the physical pleasure—although that was amazing. It’s more than that. It’s the bond. I can feel it as if it was a real rope tying us together.

  But like he said, it’s not a yoke, it’s not a burden.

  It’s like an endless well of contentment and security into which I can dip my bucket anytime I want.

  “Why was I so afraid of this?” I finally say, then start to answer my own question. “People can be pretty stupid and pretty scared of the unknown. We assume all change is for the worse, but often times it’s for the better—even if we can’t understand or envision it.”

  “You’re mine,” he says. “We are bonded now. It’s the proof of our love. Because I do love you—more than your insufficient human language can express. I can’t say that I loved you from the first moment I saw you—that would be a lie, and you know it.” I laugh because it’s true. Definitely ours was not love at first sight. More like hate at first sight. Hate and visceral annoyance.

  “When was it then?” I ask. He pauses to consider the question. “I think it was when I watched you take down those two Rulmek guards, when we snuck on the warship the first time through the exhaust vent. It wasn’t just that you moved beautifully, with a graceful violence that appeals to the warrior instincts in me. It was at that moment I got a peek underneath, a glimpse at the real Lia and the endless reservoir of strength inside.”

  A tear tracks down my cheek and I wipe it away. “I love you, too,” I say. “I don’t know when it was. There was no moment I can pinpoint. You just grew on me, like a silent, symptomless infection. By the time I realized what was going on, it was too late to do anything about it.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he says. “As long as you mean a viral infection. Viruses are fascinating. They’re cunning and defy all attempts of intelligent civilizations to eradicate them. Bacteria, on the other hand, are a little crude and very simplistic.”

  “Then a virus,” I agree. “A virulent one, for which there is no cure.”

  “No cure,” he says, “except maybe some of this to alleviate the symptoms?” He slides his hand underneath the blankets and cups one breast.

  “That might help,” I say.

  “Or perhaps this,” he says, sliding his hand further down to tease between my legs.

  “That too,” I say. “Probably both, just to be safe.” I lean over and kiss him while his hands roam underneath the blankets. It’s not long before we’re both ready again. “I love you,” I pant into his mouth.

  “I love you, too,” he says. “I can’t get enough of you. I’m hard again already. You’re going to need a lot of time in bed before this virus runs its course.”

  So we stay in bed for a long while.

  But somehow, I don’t think this will ever run its course. Somehow, I know that this is forever.

  BANTOKK

  I watch as Lia puts her clothing into a travel bag. I’m clenching my jaw, my teeth gnashing and jittering as a poor outlet for the nervous energy pouring through me right now.

  “It’s only four days,” she says, not even looking at me, somehow able to sense what I’m thinking.

  “I know,” I say. “Not a big deal.” But what I’m thinking is: four Void-damned days, a lot could happen, every second you’re out of my sight is like a slow hour of uncertainty. I cannot say this, only think it and gnash my teeth. I know this is important for her, the ability to leave on brief journeys. This is her third one since we’ve been back on Lekyo Prime, but the first one overnight—and four nights at that.

  Lia has assumed a position as Royal Procurement Agent, which is a fancy way of saying she flies off to far-flung planets and haggles over price and quantity with unsavory characters. It’s a lot like her former work with the Three-Stars, only a little bit more legal. She gets all sorts of things that the planet needs, from salt to linen, even some of those ill-gotten antibiotics her crew was supposed to transport. The first time she traveled, I went with her, but I could tell she was chafing, annoyed at what she perceived as my being over-protective.

  I can’t explain it, that it’s not control or paranoia, it’s the physical ache of when she’s gone and the fear that if something happened to her and I wasn’t around to save her, I’d never forgive myself. But I know that going on Royal Procurement trips is important to her. And that independent streak of hers is part of what makes me love her so much.

  It’s almost been two months since we arrived back on Lekyo Prime, and we’ve fallen into a comfortable routine. Most of the human females we rescued from the Rulmek have integrated into our society, while some of them elected to be taken back to their home planets. The ones that stayed with us, they didn’t have much of a home planet to return to. About a week after we arrived, the entire settlement held a celebration. Orlon rigged a comm-speaker over the city square and we all listened as he tapped into the Rulmek warship’s communications lines. It was at the exact moment that their ship landed on the Kraxx settlement. We heard the beginnings of the melee, but Bryn had prearranged with Orlon to
shut it down before it got too macabre.

  I spend my time helping Vano with various administrative tasks. The first large group of Zalaryns are set to arrive soon, destined to make Lekyo Prime their new home. I’ve looked over the list, and there are a lot of good, trustworthy males coming. Some with mates, some without. This will be the beginning of something good, I can tell.

  Lia finishes up packing her bag and we walk to her new ship, Queen Bryn’s Fortune. It’s a nice one; Vano had it brought in from Zalaryx. Some of the older settlers whisper that it’s devil technology and the first step of Lekyo Prime going the way of old Earth, into decadence and over-reliance on technology, but Lia pays them no attention.

  “Four days,” I say.

  “Four days,” she repeats. “I will miss you. It’s weird to go to bed alone.”

  “I know,” I say. “Just remember that you’re going to have four days’ worth of mating to catch up on when you get back.”

  “Oh man,” she says. “That’s going to wear me out.”

  “With any luck, it will impregnate you,” I say.

  “That’s another thing,” she says. And in that instant, I know.

  “Offspring?” I ask. She nods. Why couldn’t I sense it? Usually a male can sense the new life inside his mate’s belly. Is something wrong? A hundred things go through my head, but Lia puts her arms around me and rests her head on my shoulder.

  “I asked the healer to give me an exam,” she says. “The Zalaryn healer,” she quickly adds before I can criticize the primitive standard of medical care on this planet. “And this will be my last trip… at least for a while.”

  My heart floods with relief at those words. I could never have forced her to give up the trips, so I am quite happy she’s come to this decision on her own.

  “Is everything okay, with the offspring?” I ask. “I couldn’t sense it.”