My breath came out in pants, and with each one I took in his scent. Sweat, virile male and wild sex. His skin was hot, slick with sweat.
Because of his height, his back was curved, his mouth by my ear.
“You want it.”
“Yes,” I replied, my eyes falling closed.
“Take it.”
“I am,” I growled.
“Human, look at me.”
I did, got lost in the fathomless blackness of his gaze. The way his jaw clenched, the fangs peeking out from between his lips. The bead of perspiration slipping down his forehead. The feel of his hands cupping my ass. The thrust… fuck, the deep penetration of his cock. He was in me. Surrounding me. Looming. Taking.
“You will come when I say.”
I shook my head, my hair sliding along the wall. “You don’t control me,” I panted.
He smiled wickedly, leaned in, slid his teeth down the length of my neck. I felt the sharp tips, knew he just had to press and he’d bite. But he didn’t.
I shivered.
“Don’t I? Why haven’t you come then?”
I pushed at his chest, but he was like the wall behind me, unmovable. “Listen, you Neanderthal—”
“You are impaled on my cock. You can’t go anywhere. My fangs are an inch from your neck. Your pussy is milking me, eager for me to empty my balls. You came on my mouth, you will come on my cock. Not because you will it, but because I command you.”
“Command me?” I snarled, tried to lift off him, which only made his cock move inside of me even more. “We’re fucking. Why are we arguing?”
“Because you won’t submit.”
I bared my teeth now, all but growled at him. “Never.”
It was a silly vow, for he was right. He was bigger than me, stronger. I was caught on his cock. I couldn’t get off this ride unless he allowed it.
“If you didn’t want this, you wouldn’t be dripping all over my balls. You like what I’m doing.”
“Like you said before, if I’m talking, then you’re not doing it right.”
His brow winged up.
He unwrapped my legs, bent his knees so my feet touched the ground and pulled out. Before I could ask him what the hell he was doing, he spun me about, gripped my waist and lifted me up onto the counter so I leaned over it. The cold surface made me gasp. My legs dangled down, and because of the height my feet didn’t touch the ground. One hand was on my upper back, holding me down.
Again I waited for some sign of rejection from him. He had full view of my scars now. I tensed, expecting him to ask questions I didn’t want to answer. Or worse, walk away.
“Human, you have experienced much,” he murmured, his palm sliding down my spine, down the length of my scar. “So brave, so strong. Fuck, I shall cum just looking at the mark.”
I had no idea what that meant. What guy blew his load for a hideous marring of skin?
Instead a thick thigh nudged mine apart as a big hand came down on my ass. The slap stung but didn’t hurt. “You doubt me,” he commented.
I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about the damned scar. “Fuck me.”
He spanked me once more but didn’t lift his palm again, only gripped the right cheek and pulled it open.
“Pussy or ass, human?”
I looked over my shoulder at him. He was not even looking at my scars. His gaze held mine, lust and need there that he didn’t even try to hide from me. God, he was so hot. His body was all taut lines, his cock dark with blood and glistening from being inside me.
He waited, which was ridiculous because he had to be hurting with need to be back inside.
“Pussy,” I breathed, realizing he wouldn’t do anything until I answered. I’d never done ass play before, and I wasn’t going to start in this moment, not with the huge cock and without any lube. Besides, he was bossy already, I didn’t need to surrender more to him.
Fuck, he was dominant. And in this position—
“Oh my God,” I breathed when he slid inside me in one slow, deep thrust.
One hand hooked my shoulder, the other remained on my ass as he took me. I couldn’t do anything except take it.
He leaned down, and I felt his tense muscles, the heat of him.
“You will come when I say and not before.”
I gritted my teeth, wanting to tell him off, but I couldn’t. I liked this. Loved it. I didn’t have to think, to worry, to wonder if he liked my body. If he found my skill as a lover to be too much or not enough. If I was making too much noise, not enough. If I was too forward. Bold. If I was too marred to be beautiful. All I had to do was take everything he would give me, and I would like it. No, I’d love it.
His thumb found my back entrance again. Circled, teased. I clenched down.
“My balls are eager to empty. You will come with me.”
I shook my head, stared blankly out into the empty room, but I wasn’t disagreeing. I was… giving in.
One thrust, then another and I was done for. So was he.
His growl ripped through the air, cut the silence like I knew his fangs would cut me. But he didn’t. While he controlled me, he controlled himself, too. I could let go, give in to every base instinct I had, but he couldn’t.
It was that one thought that pushed me over—besides the huge cock, the thumb pressing my ass open, the feel of him behind me—and I screamed again, this time silently.
I was lost. Wild. The orgasm was so intense, so powerful no sound came, only feeling. I bucked beneath him, completely out of control. His large hand held me down, pressed me flat to the table as he pumped into me, fucked me through my release, prolonged it with every hard stroke into my sensitive, swollen pussy. He moved until I couldn’t.
I slumped onto the table, done.
I heard his ragged breathing, felt him pull out, lift me so I stood up, albeit on shaky legs.
We didn’t say anything as we dressed. I was sore, achy. I felt used in the best of ways. My muscles were lax, my brain mush. He’d done everything I’d wanted in a quick fuck, and then some. I had to wonder if I were ruined for anyone else.
I cleared my throat, thinking of that tequila. I could use a shot. Or five.
“Thanks,” I said. After what had just happened, I didn’t have to worry too much about making small talk. We weren’t dating. I wasn’t his mate, and he wasn’t mine. Fact was, I’d probably never see him again.
He looked at me as he buttoned up his pants. It was a shame to put such an incredible cock away.
I turned, unlocked the door, left. It was over. Fifteen, twenty minutes of the wildest sex of my life. But that was all it was. A quickie in an empty room. Orgasms shared. World rocked.
Mission accomplished. It was now time to move on to the next one, to find the Rogue 5 operative and make a deal.
3
Zenos, Astra Legion, Transport Station Zenith
The door silently slid open, and I stepped inside one of the most opulent suites on the space station. Before me sat Astra, our leader, surrounded by several other members of the legion. She never admitted her age, but we all assumed it was somewhere in the middle of her fourth decade. Her long hair was pulled back in a tight braid. The strands were streaked with gray and every bit of clothing she wore was Astra Legion’s dark green. She looked relaxed in pants, a tunic and soft-soled boots, but I knew that was a facade. Somewhere, hidden within the folds of her clothing, would be both a blaster and several blades.
Astra had not held power over the legion for more than twenty years by taking unnecessary risks. I’d seen her kill with an efficiency many envied, but always for her people, for the legion. That’s why we were loyal to her. She’d earned the right to lead us, her devotion and protection as fierce as any male’s could be. Perhaps more so because she was female, a matriarch, the ultimate protector. She never placed her own needs above the needs of her people. Never.
Much to Barek’s disappointment. He wanted Astra for a mate. The other hybrid Forsian males knew this fac
t to be true. Astra, however, seemed oblivious to his interest, even as he sat beside her now. Or perhaps she pretended ignorance to avoid the inevitable confrontation of what could never happen.
In the end they could never be together, not if one bite from his fangs would kill her.
I entered and took a knee a few paces from where she sat, head bowed, waiting for the questions and the permission I needed to fully enter her domain without the giant hybrid Forsian male at her side ripping my head from my body. They were not mated, but Barek protected her as only a true mate would, without mercy or divided loyalties. He didn’t leave her side. Not to eat. Not to sleep. Not to fuck. He slept on a thin mat outside her door, guarding her even as they slumbered. He was hers.
The others sat around Astra at a small table. They were gambling. Drinking. Killing time and keeping their minds off the mission ahead of us. I’d gone to the canteen for a drink, to sense the mood of the transport station. To listen to what was going on around us. Astra had sent me because out of all of us, I was the most subtle of the bunch, which was truly absurd. The group from Astra Legion were all here for one reason and one reason only, to obtain the antidote to a hybrid Forsian’s bite.
I was far from subtle, and the hot human whose taste was still on my tongue knew that well enough.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Barek asked.
I did not envy him his devotion to this female. His mating instinct, nearly as strong as the Atlan’s fever, had been riding him hard the last few months. If he buried his cock in any willing female in his current state, he’d probably kill her. If not with the poison in his bite, with the sheer strength in his frame. Since his cock wanted Astra, he wouldn’t kill any female, he’d kill the leader of the Astra Legion.
Some of us born on Rogue 5 had inherited a deadly cocktail of Hyperion heritage mixed with Forsian DNA. As a result we endured both a blessing and curse. We were bigger and stronger than any others on the moon base, larger even than the few Atlan hybrids. But it turned out the Forsian part of our physiology did not blend well with a Hyperion male’s mating venom. A pure Hyperion male on the planet below Rogue 5 would bite his female to induce a state of arousal and fertility, to increase her pleasure. But when mixed with Forsian bloodlines, that venom became a deadly poison.
We few hybrid Forsians who survived on Rogue 5 were doubly cursed with the locking mechanism of the Forsian mating cock and the Hyperion instinctive need to bite our females. The two instincts were so deeply ingrained in our natures that most females on Rogue 5 were not willing to take the risk of bedding us at all, not even for one night of pleasure. When we found a female brave enough—or adventurous enough—to express interest, we always ended things after one or two sessions of sex. We never kept any female close for an extended period of time. Hybrid Forsians always distanced ourselves before the instinct to permanently claim the female we fucked overwhelmed our self-control.
To die with honor was preferable to killing a female during a failed mating. In all my life, I’d never heard of one of us successfully claiming a female until Makarios of the Kronos Legion. I’d heard horror stories from the past, stories of females dying in agony as the males who loved them looked on in helpless agony and guilt at what they’d done.
Bitten her. Injected her with poison. Lost control.
More than one female had accidentally been killed by her lover over the years. Those of us with honor did not take a female to bed unless we knew we could control the urge to bite. To mate. To claim.
And that was one of the reasons the hybrid Forsians on Rogue 5 were dying out, born from those bite-free one-night stands. Without a true father. Without mated parents. Most Forsian hybrids refused to lay with a female, afraid to lose control. But now, Makarios of Kronos had become a legend among us. He’d disappeared, then turned up alive on The Colony, his body enhanced with Hive technology. That was fact, what we knew to be true. After that, we knew nothing. Had the Hive integrations been what had changed him, had the Hive made it so that Makarios no longer had the poison in his fangs? Or, as rumor claimed, had his female, a human female, actually created an antidote to the poison? Had she found a serum to counteract the venom in my fangs? In Barek’s fangs? In the fangs of all the desperate hybrid Forsians left?
We were here to find out. Anxiously awaiting the upcoming meeting. To finally get our hands on this supposed antidote.
Fucking a stranger made denying the basic instinct easier, but still difficult. And the female I could still smell? Still taste?
Gods help me, I’d never had my fangs descend during sex before.
I wanted her. Badly. And more than once. My cock was still hard and eager for her. Her denial, her refusal to give me her name, had only made me crave her more. I felt wilder than usual. Hyperion DNA made all of us wilder, difficult to control. We had fangs, each and every one of us. We bit. We fought. We raged. And our new people did not fit into the Coalition worlds. Especially the few of us who had poisonous venom in addition to our ion pistols and lethal blades.
I was a hybrid freak who would never set foot on the planet Forsia. I was blessed and cursed. Barek and I, and the other hybrid Forsians like us, were not built to mate. Yet we craved what all males did: hot, wet pussy. Soft cries of pleasure from a willing female. Release.
Peace.
I’d found it for the short time with the human. Despite my eager cock, my balls were drained, my body relaxed for the first time in forever. She’d been insatiable. Passionate. Powerful in the knowledge of what she wanted. Shared it with me, with words, with her body. She wasn’t an Everian virgin. She wasn’t what I’d expected from a human, for they were small and weak.
Not her.
No. She’d taken everything I gave her, and I hadn’t gone easy. It wasn’t in my nature. I fucked wild. I fucked hard. I fucked to ensure she’d feel me for days.
And she’d not just cried out with pleasure, she’d demanded more. Needed everything I had to give her.
With my return to the suite, the sated pleasure I’d enjoyed bled away. Reality returned, and I found Astra watching me with raised brows, realizing I’d never answered Barek’s heated question. “Well? Where have you been, Zenos? I sent you to the bar two hours ago.”
“Drinking.” My answer was one word, but I knew it would be enough. No one would assume I had been with a female. Not me. Not a hybrid Hyperion animal who’d gotten the worst of two worlds, a cock that swelled and locked our female in place, a mating instinct so strong it could drive us mad, and poison in our Hyperion fangs deadly enough to kill with one bite.
“Do not lie to me.” Astra spoke, her voice stern even as she ignored me now to stare at the small, square cards in her hand. “You smell like sex.”
“Yes. A distraction to help pass the time.” No sense denying it. Rumor was, Astra had Everian Hunter’s blood in her veins. The gods knew she could smell better than any living being should wish to. I didn’t like having poisonous fangs, but I’d hate to be able to pick up scents as acutely as she did. And smelling sex on another? No, thank you.
“Did you kill her?”
Practical. That was our Astra. Our leader. I did not know her true name, the name she’s been given by her mother. When one assumed head of a Rogue 5 legion, the leader embodied all that we were, including the name. That day, when I was but a small boy, she had become simply Astra. She led us, not like the Coalition where there was a chain of command, but as a large family. A brotherhood of sorts, led by a matriarch. We lived by a code, her code, an ethical standard—which some might consider hypocritical. Whether or not the Coalition of Planets considered something illegal was of no concern to us. What the other legions did was of no concern to us. We did what was best for our legion, for our people, for our common good. We didn’t fight the Hive. We fought the other legions of Rogue 5. For territory, for survival. Astra Legion didn’t peddle slaves. Didn’t sell Quell. Didn’t think second and kill first like Cerberus or Siren Legions. Astra was too smart for that.
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But that didn’t mean we weren’t ruthless. As leader, Astra was the most lethal. Cunning. Brutal. She was feared by the other legions, and rightly so.
“She lives,” I replied. “I did not harm her.” She might have bruises upon her soft skin from a tight grip as I fucked her, but nothing that would not fade, nothing she would not look upon and remember how I’d made her scream. There was no doubt she’d feel me for days. My cum was probably dripping from her well-fucked pussy at this moment.
The female fascinated me, and I knew I would think of her often. Wonder how she’d obtained the magnificent scar that ran the length of her back. She’d been bothered by it, not proud. A human instinct perhaps to see the scar as an imperfection, not perfection. The thickness and size of the mark had made me fuck her harder. Faster. Deeper. That mark of strength and courage, of survival, had made my instincts roar to claim her. To bite her. To keep her.
“Tempting the gods is not wise, Zenos.” Barek chastised me, but I did not respond. I knew the battle he fought every day with Astra so close to him. The words were for himself, a reminder, as much as for me.
Astra grunted and laid down her cards, which caused the others to grumble and hand over their credits. Three hybrid Forsians were in this room, and there were less than twenty of us anywhere in the galaxy, all of us sworn to Astra Legion. Except Makarios from Kronos Legion. Outsiders believed there were only three or four hybrid Forsians under Astra’s control, and our leader liked it that way.
Makarios had broken from the fold years ago and served Kronos Legion. But he’d been older than the rest of us. When he’d sworn allegiance to Kronos, he’d been just a boy and the leader of Astra had been a brutal ass. But then Makarios had been captured by the Hive and assumed lost. Wrong again. He’d shown up at The Colony, enhanced with cyborg parts. He’d been strong before. I couldn’t even imagine what the Hive had created. He must have hated every moment of it, surrounded by Coalition fighters, the only one from Rogue 5.
The Rebel and the Rogue: Interstellar Brides® Program - 19 Page 3
