Alpha Knots: Alpha Horde, #3

by Jacks, Milana

  Having trapped me, he forces my body down onto his mouth and swipes his tongue over my bruised opening, licking my slit. Instantly, my pussy makes liquid, and I’m embarrassed, but not too much, because this man seems to want it, as in want it bad. He laps my pussy like he’s never eaten anything sweeter before and someone gave him his first lemon drop. It’s sour but so addictive. I revel in his dominance, the way he controls my body even when I’m sitting on his face. I can’t move an inch, only a little with my bottom to help get more friction onto my clit, and when I come, I clamp my mouth shut so people can’t hear me. We don’t really have a door, and now that I’m not so hot anymore, I’m conscious of my body and my mind. For a period of time last night, I wasn’t being myself, and I’ve got memory gaps.

  Vemlox arranges me next to him, picks up his huge cock, and rests it on my hip as he brings me closer to his cold body. A shiver runs through mine in response, but Vemlox is quick to pile blankets over us. We’re covered under the blankets, with just a narrow dark space between us.

  Vemlox watches me, gaze a bit intense, and I find a golden tattoo of a snarling hound on his chest more interesting. I trace the tattoo. Where we get black or colored tattoos on our bodies, they get golden ones. I wonder if the ink on Regha is gold, so I ask, “The ink you write with on Regha. Is it a golden color like this?”

  “No.”

  “What do you use to write?”

  “Stone.”

  Like the cavemen. I giggle at that thought.

  Vemlox smiles. His eyes crinkle at the corners. “What’s funny?”

  “Nothing,” I say. “Why is your tattoo gold, then?”

  “Because that’s how it comes out on an Alpha male. Our armor releases some sort of substance that makes the ta-to golden.”

  He’s pronouncing tattoo in English and with his hissing vocal cords, it comes out as two words. I don’t correct him.

  “If I had the tattoo, what color would it be?”

  “Green.”

  “Hm. I kind of want one now.”

  “You’re allowed my name printed at the base of your neck.”

  At first, I smile, then when I realize he’s dead serious, I laugh. “I was thinking a pair of fish for Pisces. I’m a Pisces.”

  “You are not a fish.”

  “It’s a horoscope.” A blank stare. “Never mind. A pair of small fish on my wrists. That’s what I want.”

  “Your Alpha’s name is traditionally done.”

  “Okay, well, since you brought up our forever, I’m wondering if I can see the space gate today.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I haven’t taken a vacation leave.”

  Vemlox leaps out of bed, snaps the til around his lower body in record time, and puts on his boots. I sit up, expecting the worst, knowing it’s as good a time as any to get the truth out of him.

  “Going to grab breakfast. What do you want?”

  “The truth.”

  An eye roll. “To eat.”

  “Anything you give me, Master.”

  He narrows his eyes.

  I bat my eyelashes.

  A snort, and he’s gone.

  I crawl to the flap that serves as a door and listen for his footsteps. I hear nothing. Spinning around, I survey the room and spot his sack. Shamelessly, I dig inside. There’s food for at least a week, fur, and weapons. A survival kit. Ignoring the dreadful pain in my lower belly that tells me I’m gonna get horny again and jump his bones or worse, crawl on the floor begging for dick, I dress in pants, which I fasten with rope, and a warm but rough shirt, then throw on a fur as a jacket.

  This gut feeling about the missing girls tells me they’re not here. I’m close, oh so close to finding them, but I need to move. Another thing is that Vemlox has no intention of taking me to the space gate, and I bet there’s no fucking space gate at all. I have no idea what he’s gonna do with me, but if he didn’t tell me, it can’t be good. I need to seek out those girls, and I can’t find them if I’m stuck inside a military stronghold.

  The flap ruffles.

  I dive for the blanket fort.

  Eyes narrowed, Vemlox stands at the door, a tray of food in his hands. Loyo’s snout brushes his leg. The hound fits his massive head between Vemlox and the wall and pushes inside the room, his tail wagging. Now, a dog who wants to be a dragon is not my idea of a pet, and even though I’m kind of comfortable around Loyo, I’m not at one hundred percent comfort level. He’s truly like something Lucifer would use as a leg rest on his throne.

  Loyo brushes his wet snout over my hand, and I run a palm over and under the pair of ears on one side, careful of his sharp scales, which he lowers as I pet him.

  Vemlox drops a tray at my feet. “Eat.”

  I bristle at his tone. The cramp in my lower belly tightens, and I bite back a whine, then stuff my mouth with whatever he brought me, mainly peeled…fruit? I chew, and it tastes fresh, uncooked, and half-frozen. I think there’s meat inside these things. Yuck, but I’m hungry, and I’m eating fast. Pain explodes in my brain. I grab my head. “Brain freeze, brain freeze. Oooo, I hate them.”

  Vemlox is next to me in an instant. He sits on the floor and scoops me up. The noise coming from his chest is quiet and comforting as I wait for the freeze to thaw out.

  “What is wrong?” he asks. “Tell me.”

  “Wait.”

  He pats my head. “Loyo, at the door,” he barks at the hound.

  Claws click across the floor, and Loyo grunts as he settles on his watch.

  I rub my temples. “Okay, it’s gone now.” I lock eyes with Vemlox, whose face is inches from mine. Trapped in his fierce gaze, I don’t look away until the purr from his chest turns into something a bit scarier.

  “Tell me,” he orders.

  “Brain freeze is when we eat cold food that hits the brain somehow. We get headaches.”

  “All the food here is cold,” he says and tightens his arms around me. “Have you eaten your fill?”

  “Not yet.”

  A chuckle at my neck. A swipe of a tongue. I giggle, and he does it again. Lord have mercy, having this man around is real nice. He’s playful and bossy and kind, and makes me feel guilty about thinking of escape. The cramps in my belly intensify, and I spread my legs wide, as if I need to release pressure. Which I do. There’s pressure in my belly as if a gallon of liquid sits there ready to tip over and spill. I’ve never had a baby, but as Vemlox parts the furs and licks my nipple, traps it, twists, and sucks, I’m thinking I might have his baby. The thought alone scares the bejesus out of me. I try to push him away.

  Instead, I grip the patch of hair on the back of his head and yank him toward me. Vemlox strokes my belly at the same time, and I blush profusely because of my thoughts and his actions, as if he’s also thinking about putting a baby inside me. He presses his palm on my belly and looks up from my chest. “I’m gonna breed you.”

  “Promise?” It comes out of my mouth before I get a chance to filter it. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can’t I walk away from this man? His hand travels from my belly and down to the side, where he finds the discarded rope. I see the moment an idea hits him. His eyes light up, and he licks his lips, then flips me over, arranges me so that I’m kneeling, arms between my legs, face on the floor. A fur appears in my line of vision, and he lifts my head to put it under my cheek. “Don’t want you to scrape your soft skin.”

  Then he’s tying me up. The idea that I’ll be helpless and at his mercy while he mounts me sends the liquid down my belly and out of my soft channel. It drips out of my pussy. I’m mortified, turned on, and when Loyo snaps his head up and looks at us from the door, I want to hide in my corner.

  “Out,” Vemlox orders, and the hound obeys. Cheek pressed down, I hear the footsteps I hadn’t been able to hear before. They’re stealthy fuckers, these Regha people, but I’ve just learned how to listen for their movements. Gotta put my ear on the floor.

  Rope tightens round my wrists and ankles, and I tug. He’s
hog-tied me. Aroused, I whine, my breasts grow heavy, and I swear they swell, my nipples positively cheering for him when his palm grabs one breast to massage it.

  “Give me your cock,” I tell him. Jesus. “Now, do it.”

  Cue an angry chest rattle I find strangely arousing.

  Vemlox grabs my hair and whispers at my ear, “Kori is patient with bad little girls. But not that patient. I told you what will happen to Omegas who spit out orders. Open your mouth.” A rope appears before me, and I open my mouth, then bite down on the rope at the same time as he positions himself at my entrance and pushes inside. My eyes roll to the back of my head as my pussy flutters and spills more liquid heat while Vemlox crouches, powerful legs on either side of me, and pounds me from behind, pulling on the rope in my mouth. I can’t move. I can’t talk. I can only take what he gives me. And while my body dances with his as if it’s been trained to do so, my mind gets lost in the pleasure he’s taking from me. Not a sliver of fear is left inside me, as if this is what our union was supposed to be, as if I were made to land in this place and get taken by this alien male. I don’t give this much thought. I can’t. He’s rubbing my clit.

  The rope leaves my mouth, and I scream when I orgasm, relieved the pain in my belly is gone.

  How long before I become nothing more than a crawling liquid mess at his feet? This scares me.

  13

  Sam

  Sidone visited earlier this morning. She didn’t appear pleased with our state of undress and had covered her nose in disgust, probably in protest at the scent of fucking in the apartment for three nights straight. During our sex breaks, I barely ate, but drank plenty of fluids, including tea and fresh-squeezed juice as well as warm water to heat up my system as Vemlox advised. Meanwhile, Vemlox ate for the two of us, saying he needs the strength, saying how I drain his body dry, which, according to him, is my sole purpose for the duration of my heat.

  He’s breeding me.

  I know he’s breeding me, and I’m helpless against my body’s needs, namely those horrid belly cramps only he can make better by fucking me, using me any way it suits him. I’ve been a kinkster all my adult life, and I’ve done things most people haven’t, but I’ve never been with a male who calls for my submission at this level. Happily, I crawl at his feet. He makes me feel safe, as if I can let go and he will take care of the world for me. As if all I have to do is follow his commands, which he makes so easy to follow.

  But if he’s investing into training me the way a dominant would invest into training a submissive, I know he’s going to keep me, and if he’s breeding me—which he is—he will never send me back home or even tell me how I really got to be here. I’m hoping my anatomy won’t allow his seed to take, because it’s all I’ve got in terms of defense. Our biological differences. I have no willpower to resist him. None. It’s difficult to admit this, so I do the only thing I can think of. I bide my time, wait for the moment when he leaves with his sister and tells me he’ll return in a while with lunch. The “a while” gets me moving. The time to leave is now.

  Dressed in the warmest furs I fasten with leather strings I cut from his til, I wrap extra fur around my boots and wiggle my toes. Since I’m no shoemaker, the strings are everywhere, holding the fur wrapping.

  Inside Vemlox’s sack, I dig up several daggers. The sheathed ones I secure on his harness, then my body. I double-check my gun and tuck it inside my shoulder holster. At the exit, I turn back, and my gaze falls on the crumpled furs, the discarded food, the claw marks on the floor, the torn blankets, and the longing sets in, a heavy weight in my chest. Every instinct in my body wants my legs to move back, wants my arms to remove the clothes, and I want to go lie back down and wait for him so he’ll fuck me some more. The heat Vemlox speaks of churns in my belly, a hot and heavy ball of fire ready to drop and make me “display” for my Alpha.

  Goddammit! I am not this…this mindless creature who succumbs to physical needs. I am a capable woman, a human woman with a brain and God-given ability to think with it. My reasoning is solid. My rational mind wants me to leave. It’s all the other feelings and needs that I can’t allow to rule me.

  Peeling my gaze from the room, I tell myself to pussy up and just go for it. I drop to all fours and plaster my ear to the floor so I can hear them walk around. Counting or estimating how many Alphas are out there is impossible, but I can hear only a few on my floor, and they aren’t anywhere near me.

  I peel back the door flap and poke my head out to see Loyo approaching, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, a goofy dragon-dog look on his face. I press a finger over my mouth. “Shhhh, don’t tell anyone.”

  A blank stare.

  I squeeze past him, ready to bolt, then notice that Loyo’s saddled. I presume Vemlox intended to ride out. The moment the thought hits me, fear fills my lungs, and I can’t breathe. What if he intends to ride out without me, leaving me here with his sister? Or maybe with all those males? He said he would deliver me, and he has delivered me to the compound. Is this the final destination, though? Now I’m really mad at myself as I deduce with my very capable brain that I’m addicted to the male’s presence. This cannot be. I won’t let it happen to me. I can’t. I want to go back to my one-bedroom in San Diego, come back from a long workday, draw down the blinds, and drink wine in order to sleep a few hours. Don’t I? Eeeek. I shouldn’t even question it. Of course, I want my old life back.

  On the tips of my toes, I turn and take the narrow sidewalk, eyeing the bridge to the caged elevator, trying not to look down, and freeze, then bolt back into the room where I’m safe. I manage stealth for a few steps, with the Alphas on the lower floors not looking up, but then I hear clicking sounds. I freeze. Loyo. Loyo rattles, an eerie low growling sound. Every Alpha in the damn place stops what they’re doing and looks up.

  Great. This is just great. I wave at my audience below.

  “Going somewhere?” comes from the other end of the bridge. An Alpha male with red fur over his chest smiles and strides toward me. In seconds, Loyo’s on our end of the bridge, scales up, tail pointing up, not tucked down, head lowered, muscles flexing and relaxing. He rattles off a sound I interpret as a warning. The Alpha stops in his tracks and rattles off his own warning. Loyo shows him a set of teeth that would make the King of the Jungle run. But not this Alpha male, who crouches and bares his teeth, then slowly draws a double-headed ax and spins it on his side.

  “Loyo, come here, boy.” I make kissing noises at the hound. His ears twitch, but the hound doesn’t move. He leans forward as if he’s gonna leap.

  “Get out of my way,” the Alpha says to Loyo, and taps the ax to his thigh, then raises it.

  Loyo waits, possibly for the right time to strike, but I can’t wait anymore. Animals are animals, no matter the size or scare factor, and I’ve adopted Loyo already as if he were mine.

  I take out my gun and aim. “You move, and I blow your head open.”

  The male spares me a glance but pays more attention to the hound, thinking the hound is a bigger threat. He’s right, of course, but on behalf of my gender, I’m getting a bit annoyed with all the maleness around here.

  “Shooting toys can’t pierce my armor, little girl.”

  Calling me a little girl annoys me too. Vemlox calls me that, and I don’t see why this man has the right to pet-name me. To protest, I open my mouth and leave it gaping. The Alpha jumps onto the rail, crouches, then leaps toward me. My breath catches. I can’t move. But Loyo can. Midleap, Loyo tackles him, and the Alpha drops over the side. The sound of a massive, hard-armored man landing explodes in the cave. I bend over the rail, see his unmoving body on the ground, and look around at the others, who just stand there, some shaking their heads, some looking at me in a way I don’t like to be looked at. The predatory way that speaks of want. A group of five Alphas rushes up the stairs.

  Sliding my gun back into the holster, I climb onto the hound and kick my heels on the saddle. “Go go go!”

  Loyo runs down
the steps, toward the Alphas.

  Oh no. I try to steer him, but I don’t have reins.

  He stops before he gets to the ground floor, takes a right toward a hole in the wall, and guns for it. I grab hold of his neck. “Nooooo.”

  In the narrow tunnel, cold winds chill my bones. Loyo reaches the opening and leaps. I scream at the top of my lungs. We’re flying, and we have no wings! Palms digging into his sharp raised scales, eyes closed, I hold on to the hound for dear life. Loyo lands, and I bounce, but hold on to him as he runs through the snow. My arms strain to hold my weight up, snow’s beating my face, and I realize Loyo’s not gonna stop. He’s going places, taking me somewhere, and I can either hang on to the saddle or get trampled.

  A loud whistle sounds, and Loyo stops dead in his tracks. Scales cut my palms. I scream, lose my grip, fall off, and roll down the mountain, then hit a hard rock with my back. My head spins, and though I’m freezing, adrenaline keeps me warm. Rubbing my back, I sit up, wipe my face, then wince, looking down at my hands. Blood seeps from deep cuts in my palms. I feel blood trickling down my temple and scoop some snow to wipe it. At this point, escape is futile. Everyone within a fifty-mile radius heard me scream, including Vemlox. I’m pretty sure of it. Besides, I won’t make it very far before I bleed out or get an infection.

  Snow’s covering the entire landscape. The sky’s preparing for a storm. Lightning flashes in the distance. How far have I gone? The compound looks close, but I know better than to trust my eyes to estimate distance. The sack on my back prevented certain spinal injury, and I shake it off, then get my gun out. Loyo circles me, tail up, teeth bared. He’s guarding. I’m alone out here, and God knows what’s coming.

  “Never seen a flying Omega before,” comes from behind me.

  I jolt upright and aim my gun at Sidone. Bright emerald green covers her body, and she steps forward until her chest bumps the barrel. “I’m an Alpha female of Regha.” She snorts. “Alien weapons can’t pierce my armor.”