Her Alien Warrior

by Viki Storm

  “I know you are,” he says after he breaks the kiss.

  I try to form the words, try to tell him to fuck off, to get his damned alien hands off me.

  But I can’t.

  I don’t want him to.

  “There’s something hard right here,” he says as he rubs his palm against the tight peak of my nipple. He moves to caress the other one. “Right here too. I wonder what it could be.”

  He pulls the zipper down to my waist and my bare breasts tumble free. I wriggle against his grip, trying to pull my hands away, but he continues to hold them tightly above my head.

  “This is what I was looking for,” he says, gently plucking one nipple. I can’t help moaning as he teases me. I’m so embarrassed right now. All it took was a quick grope from an alien warrior and I’ve abandoned my scruples.

  He wedges his boot between my feet, spreading my legs just a little. Then he presses into me even closer, using his knee to get between my thighs. Holy hell, the pressure of his muscular leg against me as he’s trying to hold open my legs is driving me wild. I don’t have any dignity left, so I grind my hips a little, trying to rub myself on his leg. He pushes back and I start to breathe a little faster.

  Is he going to do it? Am I going to let him? I’ve never done it before, let any man inside me. Let alone an alien. Good grief, I’d never imagined that I’d ever let an alien have his way with me—let alone be my very first.

  His hand leaves my breasts and finds the zipper again. He pulls it all the way down to my ankle.

  “Look at these nice little panties you’re wearing,” he says, thumbing the elastic waistband. “You’re all dressed up for me. Now step your legs out of your pants so I can get a better look at your pretty little pussy.” He strokes my lips through the outside of my underwear and my breath catches in my throat, it feel so damned good. “I know you like it,” he says. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

  I pause, my leg twitching as I start to comply with his demand. It was all fun and games, a kiss, a little bit of playing around.

  But once my underwear comes off… that’s it. You can’t let a man—or alien—take off your underwear and not expect him to use your body for his pleasure.

  “I…” But there are no words.

  Auvok tears my spacesuit away, pulling the rest of it off over my head. I’m standing in only my underwear and he’s staring at me. His eyes are sharply focused with the pursuit of pleasure, the fulfillment of his lust. He’s looking at me like he’s never seen anything more pleasing, more exciting. My own excitement is building as he reaches for my hips and pulls me to him for another kiss.

  This time, it’s electric. My bare skin against his galvanizes every fiber of my being. I want more, want to enhance this closeness. He slips one finger underneath the smooth fabric of my underwear and slides it across my slippery slit. I moan into his mouth and grind into his hand.

  And then, as soon as it started, he pulls away.

  “Get dressed,” he says. “I’m satisfied you’re not concealing any contraband.”

  “What?” I ask, more confused than ever.

  “I said I was going to search you. I’ve done that. Now get dressed.”

  “Okay,” I say. I’m so fucking confused. I definitely have reduced brain power right now, since all my blood is currently pooling between my legs where it throbs incessantly, urging me for release.

  “Did you think I was going to claim your ripe little body right now?” he asks, but not unkindly.

  “Well…” I say.

  “We need to get in the air,” he says. “When I do take you, I’m going to take my time to properly explore every inch of your body.”

  I look to the floor and find my spacesuit in a heap. I bend down to pick it up, but he stops me.

  “Actually, leave it off,” he says. “For now, just the panties only. Prepare for takeoff.”

  Again, for some reason, I don’t tell him to fuck off. I don’t tell him that I’m not his sex object. I don’t kick him in the kneecap and make a break for it.

  I don’t do it because I like the way he looks at me. I liked his rough, huge hands roaming my body.

  I do what he says and get into the copilot’s chair and strap myself in. My fingers touch the little leather satchel that Ason’s wife gave me. For protection, she said. Did the charm actually work?

  I glance at Auvok. Is he my protector? Rescuing me from the flames that were supposed to be my future?

  Or is he my ruination? Keeping me captive in his ship so he can subject me to his depraved lust?

  Chapter 7

  Auvok

  Is it really possible? That my fated mate literally fell out of the sky and into my ship? As a warrior, we were trained to work on instinct. If you pause to think, you give your enemy the fraction of a second needed to take you down. We’re trained to feel and to act.

  That’s how I ended up with Vela nearly nude and strapped into my co-pilot’s seat. I felt desire. A raging and uncontrollable need to be close to her blighted my senses. So I acted. I stripped her bare and put my hands all over her soft, young body. Feel. Act. Thinking gets you in trouble. If I’d stopped to think, I wouldn’t have done it.

  I can barely fly the ship, being within arm’s reach of her. I want to take her, mark her as mine with a thick spurt of seed deep inside her womb. I want to hold her, caress her, feel her delicate lips on mine. I want to fly her back to Viltra, take her into my dwelling and wake up with her at my side in the morning. I want my home to be filled with the sound of babies laughing and children running around.

  Lucky for me that warriors take what they want.

  I glance over at her again, the restraint harness tightly crossed against her chest, making her breasts protrude lewdly. I’ve never seen nipples begging for a pinch as much as hers.

  “I have changed my mind,” I say. “Cover yourself. If you do not, I’m going to violate every hole in your body. Twice.”

  She looks at me with a mixture of fear and delight—as well she should.

  The lust of a Virixian warrior should not be thrust upon a weak female.

  Our appetites are nearly insatiable, and the word ‘gentle’ is not in our vocabulary.

  “What if I don’t want to cover up?” she asks, a sly smile materializing across her devilishly adorable face.

  “Then I cannot be held responsible for what happens,” I say. “You might not be able to walk straight for a week.”

  “Is that a threat or a promise?” she asks.

  “Both, female. Cover yourself now. At least until we finish the mission and return the Jewel of Supreme Power. I cannot concentrate with your ripe breasts on display. After the mission is complete, however, you will receive the full force of my lust. And that’s a promise.”

  She unbuckles her harness and scurries off to find her clothing. Dearest Void, that was close. I wasn’t exaggerating—if anything, it was an understatement.

  She is my mate. I can feel it. I know it in my bones. I don’t know why the Fates have given me a human mate and what, if anything, the Jewel of Supreme Power has to do with it. But it doesn’t matter. She’s mine and that’s all I need to know.

  Named warriors are not allowed to take mates, but I’ve been exiled. I’m not subjected to the laws of Virix anymore.

  “Did you contact your client?” Vela says as she returns. “Tell him about the jewel?”

  I’m paradoxically unnerved by the sight of her clothed again. It’s unnatural. My mate should be nude and accessible to me at all times. Clothing is an affront to the bond that the Universe has forged between us.

  “Not yet,” I say. “I want to be sure that we’re not being pursued.”

  “By the pirates?” she asks.

  “By the people who set you up,” I say.

  “What do you mean by that?” she asks. Then she understands. “You think that it was a double-cross or something?”

  “Or something,” I agree. “What are the odds that you just so happened across a
pirate and you just so happened to be carrying extra cargo, about which you were not informed?”

  “Slim to none,” she agrees. “I bet they used me to get it off-planet, that way if I was caught by customs—”

  “—or by a rogue agent,” I say.

  “Yeah,” she says, “like an exiled warrior thug.” She gives me a sly smile that makes my cock stir underneath my pants. I’m literally aching for her. She knows it and enjoys the power she holds over me.

  “Who do you work for?” I ask her.

  “No one,” she says. “Not a syndicate or anything. There’s a guy, Hal, who can get his hands on medical supplies. And a broker, Ason, who puts the deals together. We split three ways. That’s it. We don’t even need to pay bribes or tributes.”

  “Therefore your traitor is Hal or Ason. Or both.” Denial turns the delicate features on her face into cruel edges and sharp points.

  “No,” she says.

  “There is no other explanation,” I tell her. “Unless one of them bragged about the job while drunk in a tavern.”

  “Ason’s wife?” she says more to herself than to me.

  “One of the males works with his mate? Then it could be her, too, if she is treacherous enough to go against the will of her male.”

  “She tried to stop me,” Vela says. “Told me the job was dangerous. Gave me this for protection.” She holds up the small leather satchel she wears around her neck.

  “She overheard her husband’s schemes,” I say. “And was trying to warn you.”

  “I can’t imagine Ason doing this to me. We’ve worked together for so long.”

  “You’re surprised that a professional thief would lack honor and loyalty?” I ask. Sometimes, humans are very confusing to me. She sighs heavily.

  “Let me give this some more thought,” she says. I drop the subject. She will accept it in her own time.

  “I should contact my client now,” I say. This talk of betrayal has made me lose my taste for the job. I want to unload this jewel before another band of pirates makes a play for it. I can take on a whole fleet of those low-brow jokers, but I’d rather not engage in battle with sweet Vela on board.

  I love a good fight, but there’s something right now that I want more. My mate, in my bed, her small body stretched and straining to accept my entire length as I savagely pound into her.

  “What is this thing anyway?” she asks. “A ruby?”

  “It’s a bixbite,” I explain. “It’s a sacred relic of the Qyath. It was taken from them during one of the many sacks of the Accretion Wars. The Xan possessed it for a long time until it was lost to history. It resurfaced about a hundred orbits ago and has been in museums ever since.”

  “This is just a part of a dusty old museum exhibit?” she asks, obviously disappointed that the jewel did not have a more sordid history.

  “I’m afraid so,” I say. “Except it’s a dusty old extremely valuable museum exhibit. A bixbite gem this size alone would go for half a million credits, a little less in Palladium coin.”

  “Half a million?” she asks. “What’s your client paying you?”

  “Not even close to that,” I say.

  “He’s not afraid you’re going to abscond? Is he blackmailing you into this job or something?”

  “What would I do with a giant jewel?” I say. In truth, I’m honor-bound to complete the job, but that’s harder to explain. Why am I adhering to the inflexible warrior code when it was that code’s draconian application that led to the exile of me and my sworn brothers?

  And remember, that code forbids taking a mate, even if she’s been fated by the Universe itself. You can’t pick and choose what parts of the warrior’s code you want to follow…

  “Sell it,” she says, but even as she says it, her brow furrows as she realizes the difficulty in such a task. “Because the buyer’s market for a big expensive museum jewel is probably huge. And wouldn’t attract any attention. Yeah, okay, I see your point.”

  “I could fence it if I put forth the effort,” I say. “But the Virixian warrior’s code of honor is more valuable to us than the money.”

  “But you’re exiled?” she asks. “You don’t have to follow their laws anymore, do you?”

  “I am exiled,” I say. “I am not allowed to set foot on planet Virix for the rest of my natural life. But I am still alive. I am the same male with the same virtues—and vices—as I ever was. The same way I’ll never forget how to draw my weapon, dodge a blow or drop an enemy from three kilometers. I’ll never screw a client on a deal.”

  “How noble,” she says. I can’t tell if she’s mocking me, but I don’t care. “Then contact your client and let’s get rid of the jewel so you can take me to Mutza’s World. I’ve got a job to do too.”

  “Are you sure you’re not in a rush to be done with the mission because of what I promised to do to you afterward?” I tease.

  “No,” she says. “That has nothing to do with it.” But even a blind person could tell that her nipples are tightly bunched into knots that are begging for my fingertips. And my tongue. Oh yes, I cannot wait to be done with this job so I can fulfill my promise. It’s part of the warrior’s code to keep your word.

  “I’ll make contact,” I say. I set up the vid-comm and enter the IP address that the client gave me. He answers and we discuss specifics, finally deciding to meet on Narelerth.

  “Why are we meeting there?” Vela asks. “Shouldn’t we meet somewhere else?”

  “You have a lot of opinions for someone who was grinding their dripping wet pussy into my hand just a few minutes ago,” I say.

  “Are you always like this?” she asks.

  “No,” I say truthfully. “Absolutely not. It’s you. I can’t sit two feet away from you without losing my wits. I want to explore every inch of your body. I want to taste every inch. I want to know what you sound like when you’re coming, want to look into your eyes when I plunge my cock into you.” I have to stop myself. My composure is gone.

  While I’m certain that she’s my fated mate—the one and only female that will be in my arms for the rest of my days—I am not sure that she feels the same. Yet. Humans in their hubris think that they understand everything, that all natural phenomena can be explained by science. Not this. There is no chemical equation, no sequence of neural transmitters, no sinusoidal amplitude or correlation coefficient to explain this.

  She is mine. She was always mine.

  It’s my duty to protect her and provide for her, my duty to give her tiny little babies to love. To die for her—and kill for her.

  I don’t need a reason, don’t need to wonder why or how.

  She is the reason.

  She says nothing, and I don’t expect her to. I know that I’m probably scaring her. It tears me apart, thinking that my beloved little mate might fear me or think me insane. I will do a better job controlling my lust for her sake.

  Until she’s begging me for it, that is. Then I’ll unleash the full force of a Virixian warrior’s desire upon her and fuck her senseless.

  I enter the new coordinates and the ship changes course towards Narelerth. Vela was right to question the location. It’s a small non-Federation planet, no major cities, only a few scattered livestock farms.

  “Auvok! You there?”

  “I’m here,” I say. “What do you want, Taxuu?”

  “I’ve been reading up about the Jewel of Supreme Power.”

  “Of course you have,” I say. That’s all Taxuu does, read old tomes and forgotten articles on archaic topics of no interest or use to anyone.

  “No useless knowledge,” he says, “only useless people.”

  “You heard that from Glox,” I say, remembering what the mechanic told me before I left on this voyage.

  “He heard it from me,” Taxuu says. “Do you still have the jewel?”

  “I do,” I say.

  “Good,” he says. “Whatever you do, do not give it to the client. Do you copy?”

  “What?” I ask. �
�Don’t give it to the client?”

  “No,” he says. “It’s not what he said it is. It’s—”

  The connection cuts off.

  “Taxuu!” I shout.

  “What was that about?” Vela asks.

  “Nothing good,” I say.

  And that’s an understatement. Because I know why the vid-comm disconnected. I see it right there on the radar.

  Another ship, coming straight towards us.

  The last thing I see before the blast hits us is Vela’s perfectly serene face, blissfully unaware that when she walked onto my ship, she put herself into so much danger.

  Chapter 8

  Vela

  What are the odds I get into not one but two crashes in the same day? I think again to Ason’s wife and her strange prediction. Maybe I was supposed to die in the first crash, but I narrowly slipped out of Death’s cold embrace. Not one to be cheated, Death is coming back for me, bony fingers flicking the ship off course as if it were no more than a mosquito whining in his ear.

  “Hold on,” Auvok says. He’s calm and collected, and I’m so jealous. I think I might have peed my pants a little bit. Named Virixian warriors probably don’t pee their pants at the first sign of trouble, but it’s eerie that he’s so calm right now. It’s inhuman.

  That’s because he’s not a human, you dope.

  Well, yeah, okay, there’s that.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  “Company,” he says. The instrument panel on the Vulp is ancient and I can’t find the biometric scanner—probably because there is none.

  There’s nothing to do but dig my fingernails into the arm rests as Auvok swerves and dodges the incoming attack.

  “I know you have the jewel,” a voice suddenly broadcasts over the ship’s comm. Okay, I definitely peed a little bit. The voice is so creepy.

  “I do,” Auvok says. “But it’s of no matter to you. If you think you’re getting it, then you need to be educated in the matter.”

  “Please spare me the bravado,” the voice says. “Can we get to the heart of the matter without a lot of back and forth about how tough you are and how I’m going to end up in a world of pain or wishing I was never born or some other hackneyed cliché?”