Rescued by an Alien: Alien Mate Romance (Stolen by an Alien Book 2)

by Amanda Milo

  She brings her arms around me and squeezes. “We did it,” she says brokenly into my neck.

  I press my tongue gently to her shoulder.

  Then I drag it up to just behind her ear, and once there, I mark her face, and nuzzle the hair that sticks to the side of her cheek.

  She’s wearing a soft smile - an indulgent, almost playful expression on her face as she lets me finish marking her.

  I smile back at her. “Don’t pretend you’re above marking. If you could, you’d mark me like this too. I have seen the way you visually challenge other females now when we work out together.”

  She burns a deeper shade. “Okay, yes, I do that.” Then she turns serious. “What did you mean before - when you said I was finally yours? Is it…”

  She is starting to look ill. “Does it bother you that I was with that kind of alien?”

  I gape at her. Then I grab her - before letting her go immediately, and apologize. “Callie? You say those words as if you think I could be disgusted - I do not know what has you thinking this, but you must stop.”

  “Then what were you talking about?”

  When I realize what I said to her, it’s my turn to flush. “I was talking about the hob you took.”

  She nearly falls off my lap. “What?”

  I laugh without humor. “The day you took that male, I nearly died.”

  “I’ve never been with a hob! What male…” then her eyes go round. “Greg?”

  I hiss.

  “Zadeon…”

  I let her hug me, but the pain is still blistering.

  “You know he was a human, right?”

  My mouth opens, but then I nod. Human. Hob. What is the difference? “You loved him.”

  Her mouth twists and remembered pain swirls in her eyes. “He was good.”

  “He was good to you,” I agree. This does not hurt me to say. It was a relief that the male she Chose was more than decent to her. He treasured her, as he should have.

  It only hurt to feel how much she treasured him back.

  She hangs her head. “I didn’t know about you. I thought you-”

  I cup her face in my hands. “You did nothing wrong. He was yours to take. I am only relieved that you are finally mine.”

  She studies me for several clicks before speaking. “If it was me who had watched you, loved you - then watched you fall in love with someone else?” She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. “Zadeon, I’m so sor-”

  My tail thwaps against her lips, making them curve up a little.

  “I told you. You have nothing to apologize for.” I shake my head. “Your first guard… that was the only reason I wasn’t driven completely insane, I think. I told myself that since I couldn’t find you, couldn’t be there to protect you; at least this young one was a first-defense.”

  She lets her head cock to the side, her eyes soft as shazzi-down.

  I lean in until our breaths mingle. “But make no mistake my little dream. I will satisfy you now. If you need something you only have to tell me. I am yours for always and you are mine. You belong to me.”

  “You’re a little intense.”

  “For you? About you? Always.”

  ◆◆◆

  I learn what she likes. She tries to ask me what I like and I laugh. “Making you happy.”

  She falls on me, kissing my face - and then she pushes her cheek to mine.

  After a moment her voice comes out, sounding confused. “Yeah, see, this just feels like I’m squishing my face on yours. You must get something different out of doing this…”

  I catch her and roll us so that I’m on top. “I do. Want me to show you again?”

  Her smile is so wicked it makes part of me flare with a sort of uneasy, thrilled anticipation.

  I’ll let you guess what part.

  “Actually, I want to show you something.”

  And she squirms until I let her turn over in my grip.

  Then she presents herself; wiggling her hips slowly and my eyes can’t look away.

  This is how Rakhii females will entice a male; Gryfala will shove one down and mount him.

  My human is interested in mating all ways. With her? So am I.

  I cover her.

  Soon I am inside her, my nose buried in her hair, both my arms slid under her to cradle her to me.

  I speed up my thrusts when I feel her wet tongue give a little lap against the skin of my arm.

  I can’t stop the shiver that must travel through her too with me on top of her like this.

  Then her little mouth opens, and her teeth close over my forearm.

  I come.

  I didn’t even… I didn’t even get her to release. I grimace.

  When I recover, I flip her over and lick her until she too feels bliss.

  ◆◆◆

  “Here,” I tell her, and easily lift her and move her to the other side of the bed, where there isn’t a giant cooling wet spot.

  “Daaaamn. You are so strong.”

  I feel my brow quirk. “You are just realizing this?”

  She turns her special shade. “I guess when you pick me up I really notice.”

  I shake my head at her. “You said I whipped that portcullis like a ‘frisbee’ but you marvel when I can pick you up? You are strange, my dream. But,” I pull her into me, and press her heated cheek against my chest. “I will pick you up all the time if you find pleasure in it.”

  I feel her lips tentatively press into my scales.

  Then she does it again, with more purpose.

  I’ll take that as assent.

  I squeeze her in relief. “I have wanted that.”

  I think I hear her say, “Me too.”

  ◆◆◆

  This dream is different.

  I have sung of her beauty. I have sung to her of my lonliness without her. I sang to comfort her when she felt that everyone she loved was lost.

  But this dream is different.

  She doesn’t know the dance.

  In this dream, she is scared - longing for something just out of her reach.

  She won’t reach for it though.

  She tries to dance, but her steps falter, stumble - and her eyes keep pleading with me to help her. Asking me to give her the nudge she needs.

  I don’t dance well; not like her, and I only know what she has taught me. But in the dream, my body knows, my muscles know; all of me knows how to move to lift her into a graceful leap. I may not know the dance - but somehow I know I must get her to the place she wants to be - the place she needs to be. She lands on the other side of the stage and holds her pose.

  When I see her face, she is crying.

  But now she is smiling through her tears, and holding out her hand for me.

  CHAPTER 35

  CALLIE

  Zadeon avoids the Comm system like it causes disease. It doesn’t, he assures me - it’s simply because he has trouble hearing and the slight, nary-detectable slow down in a holo missive is enough of a delay that it throws off his lip reading ability during conversation.

  He must have broken down and used it to call for food while I was sleeping, or one of our friends was kind enough to have a clue what we’ve been holed up in here doing for the last…

  “How long have we been in here?” I ask before he can pop another blue sphere into my mouth.

  He’s been feeding me and he loves it. I’m trying not to be offended that he’s only slightly less enthusiastic about feeding me than he was receiving his first blow job.

  He pauses to think. “Four rotations? Six?”

  “That’s kind of a big difference,” I squeak. "It’s time to get out of this room!”

  This coming from me who was formerly in danger of growing myself to the bed with all the time I spent acting like a sloth in here.

  He shakes his head. “It wasn’t safe before.”

  I chew this sphere fast then block his hand before he can pop another one in. “But it’s safe now?”

  “Rakhii sta
y denned together many rotations.”

  “When do they leave?”

  “When the female is satisfied.”

  I smile. “Really?”

  He’s serious. “Yes.”

  I want to tease him right now and say something like, “*Sigh* I guess I’m satisfied…” because I’m pretty sure I know what he’ll do to make me satisfied but…

  I have important get-out-of-this-room things to do.

  “I want to dance. I learned a new one last night.”

  ◆◆◆

  When we enter the commons area, freshly showered after dancing and me wearing a thick application of eau de Zadeon - I ignore all the whispers. All the looks.

  Today, I really don’t care.

  And I’m so freaking happy about that.

  I’m happy I don’t care about what they think.

  My chair is pulled out for me, and I accept it, enjoying the flutter in my stomach at the way Zadeon is looking at me.

  Like we didn't just have to race from the studio (I let him chase me) so that we could enjoy the privacy of our bedroom.

  “Finally. We were getting worried we were going to have to call Search and Rescue,” Gracie says in way of greeting.

  I look at her very marked skin and clothes. “Yes. I remember worrying the same about you. Still do, since you two often hole up and… get crazy. Sometimes we pretend to draw straws on who should drop by to check on you.”

  She sucks a protein packet flat and leers. “You can come anytime. We do.”

  I groan. “That was terrible.”

  Gracie is grinning like a fool. “Yeah, but you laughed. I feel like a fucking winner. Weepy, it’s so good you’re doing better - you’re starting to become fun.”

  She’s right. I am getting better.

  I smile at her. “Thanks. I think.”

  Arokh enters the commons and he’s carrying Angie - and I glance at Zadeon to see he’s thinking the same thing I am; we could have done that but nooo, somebody thinks I should walk on my own after workouts.

  ...Unfortunately - although I made sure to beg because I think he likes to hear me do it just as much as I enjoy the opportunity to whine, and bitch, and moan - now that I’m getting serious about dancing again, I agree with him. I do need to walk on my own after workouts, damn the luck.

  But I can start engineering other times he can carry me.

  Gracie kicks out a chair at the same time Dohrein does.

  They look at each other - almost as shocked as I am. Dohrein shrugs and looks away first. I think he’s starting to like Arokh, even though he tries hard not to show it.

  Or maybe… maybe he has been showing it, and Arokh’s little grudge (Angie said there was this wing-thing, and a stolen kiss causing a tiny bit of mad-possessive animosity in her alien) ends up rebuffing all his efforts.

  I think Dohrein’s ultimately quite decent; he just has a rough way of showing it.

  Slowly taking her eyes from him, Gracie greets the pair. “What’s up with the sourpuss?”

  The grin she sends them is depraved.

  Angie glares. “I’m not being a sourpuss. I’ve just had some bad news is all. I’ll be fine.”

  Arokh looks pained as he rubs her back, smoothly bringing them down to a seat.

  He chose the one Dohrein kicked out for him. I look around to see if anyone else is smiling at this like I am.

  Just me? That’s fine. I can be happy all by myself.

  Concerned for Angie though, I shove my now-flat protein packet aside. “What’s the bad news?”

  Angie’s lip pulls up, but not in a happy way. “I got my period. It held off so long, I got my hopes up…”

  I’m literally unable to hear the rest of her words.

  I can see her mouth moving.

  In fact, I can see everything around me moving.

  But I can’t move.

  It’s like I’ve instantly transformed into a block of ice.

  I haven’t had a period since…

  Since before…

  “What’s…” Angie starts to ask. Then her face goes as white as a sheet.

  Gracie bangs back from the table, causing Dohrein to look quickly between the humans.

  His hand twitches over his tablet, like he wants to note something about this absolutely fascinating exchange.

  Gulping, I sputter ridiculous, impossible, hopeful wishes. “Maybe I’m not.”

  The fatigue.

  The nightmares so strong they caused me to throw up...

  Morning sickness?

  No. No. I got sick at other times! My heart slows - then jackhammers again as another thought logjams me: isn’t ‘morning sickness’ a misnomer because of something about protein needs… Why did I never pay attention before?

  That sounds right. I think the nausea can hit at all hours. Especially right after waking.

  Just like mine?

  Or…” I grab Z’s hand and he startles -he wasn’t expecting me to grab him and hang off him like this.

  Plead with him.

  “Or if… if… maybe it’s yours! Do aliens impregnate by osmosis?”

  Please, please, please, Z. Tell me yes.

  When his hands cover mine, I realize they’re trembling. He swallows, and he looks like a man bracing himself to tell a child that the family dog won’t be coming home again.

  I know I’m being crazy - I know this! At this point, I need him to lie to me. To tell me that the life - the creature growing inside me - is his.

  Is from him.

  From good.

  From love.

  Not from…

  Not from-

  “Zadeon!” I can’t stifle the sob and he looks like he’s in as much pain as I am. I fall into his open arms.

  I lose time.

  When I find myself back on our bed in our room, I blink up and see him hunched over me on the bed. Looking worried.

  With his hand on my lower stomach.

  I grab his wrist and move it off. “I want you.”

  He’s clearly apprehensive about this plan. “Now?” he asks, and this is as close to a squeak as I’ve heard his throat ever make.

  Despite his hesitation, he’s half hard - and when I roughly tug him it only takes three pumps before he’s ready.

  “I don’t think-”

  “Please!” I am begging him. “I need-”

  What?

  What can fix this?

  “Now,” I confirm, wildly nodding. His face is grim, but he lets me position us how I need; desperation making me mount him before I’m prepared.

  “Aaahhh!” The pain clears my head a little - and then I’m off of him and flat on my back.

  “Shhh,” he soothes when I start to sob harder and struggle. Not to get away; to get to him. “I’m not saying no. Just… let me love you, Callie.”

  Tears pooling into my ears, I nod. And beg. “Hurry!”

  As if this will change what created the life inside me, the thing that’s attached itself inside my body.

  CHAPTER 36

  ZADEON

  There is a deep well of sorrow filling the chambers of my hearts.

  My poor mate.

  In all the solars that I spent imagining what our life would be like when we found each other, what our love would be like - I am glad I never imagined this.

  It’s killing me.

  She cries the whole time.

  She barely lets me stimulate her long enough for her body to take me without pain; especially after she has to stop me from touching her breasts. She cries even harder telling me they are too sensitive. She is frantic to have us join.

  I would tell her that there is no need for this rush; but I can see it in her eyes.

  She knows.

  The anguish there… it’s brutally shredding my hearts.

  I can’t even imagine what she feels in hers.

  When she isn’t interested in reaching orgasm - my performance suffers.

  My arms are curled under her, cradling the back of her he
ad. I bring her up so I can kiss her.

  Against my lips she asks, “Did you come? I didn’t feel it this time.”

  I stare into her eyes. Her frightened, agitated eyes.

  I know what she’s going to tell me.

  “Again. Let’s-”

  “Callie,” I start.

  Her eyes implore me.

  Smoke momentarily cuts off my view of her face. “You’ll tell me if it starts to hurt?”

  “Yeah!”

  She doesn’t.

  I catch her wincing with my thrusts. Even the slow pumps, when she lets me slow down.

  I never suspected I’d come to dread the act of mating between us.

  But I do.

  I’m starting to feel raw. She has to be even more so.

  When I smell blood, despite her protests, I pull out of her so I can check - and I see pink on the sheet beneath us.

  She scrambles after me when I leave the bed.

  But I don’t go far. I drop right next to it, and the suddenness of the movement causes her to pause. I grab her by the hips and drag her to the edge. “Lie back. Open for me.”

  Some of her feverish compulsion eases at the relief she gets from my tongue. “Thank youthankyouthankyou,” she speaks so quickly the words slur together.

  If only she were thanking me from pleasure.

  But she is thanking me because she knows we can continue longer.

  Sometime in the night when she is too limp to pull herself over me and too exhausted to order me to cover her again, her desperation melds into defeat.

  By morning, every line of her body shows weary resignation.

  It’s with a distant tone I don’t care for that - for the first time in hours - she gives me words that are not commands.

  “I’m afraid I can never separate myself from what happened. I’ll never be able to look at it and not see what they did to me.”

  Her voice strangled on the word it.

  My hearts do too.

  I wish I was wise.

  I wish I knew what to say.

  I’m not. I don’t. So I do the only thing I can do for now: I tug her closer to my chest and nestle my nose under her ear, lapping once to check her temperature.

  I drag the blanket she keeps kicking down back over us.