Venomous: Erotic Science Fiction Romance (Alien Warrior Book 1)

by Penelope Fletcher

  This wasn’t a one time deal.

  I needed to make clear what he had to do to take me.

  My hand inched across the furs until it reached his.

  Just do it.

  Gathering my courage to initiate contact, I clasped his thick wrist.

  He startled but didn’t lash out.

  Good start.

  I tugged.

  He resisted, snarling lowly, muscles swelling.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  I pulled his hand towards me, spread my knees then used it to cup my mound.

  That got his attention.

  Go slow before he claws your face off.

  The snarling eased, replaced with a soft hiss.

  He stopped swelling larger and rocked forward, the black orbs of his eyes alert rather than aggravated.

  Scooting forward, I opened my legs wider and pressed myself into his hand. “You have to get me wet.”

  Jaw clenching as I grated the words, I stared past his shoulder.

  His knife-like gaze cut too deep.

  The alien could take my body, but I’d shield my soul from his view.

  He didn’t get that part of me.

  “It’ll hurt if you don’t,” I whispered, “and I am done with hurting. I don’t care if that makes me weak. I want to survive this. You.” I drew in a shuddery breath. “Enter me dry and I’ll tear. You’re larger than I’ve seen before.”

  Even though he couldn’t understand, I kept talking.

  It was for my own comfort, and that was okay.

  Forgetting I was afraid, mostly of the alien I sat next to, my other hand came up to rest on his rock-solid shoulder.

  I used his long, thick middle finger to delve between my outer lips and rub against my clitoris.

  “Whacked,” I muttered. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  His head turned in a gradual arc downward.

  He stared at my hand.

  Gawping at the appendage as if it conspired against me, I snatched it back.

  Rather than continue to explain, I rubbed faster worried he’d forgo preparation and get inside me using brute force.

  With enough fingering my body creamed for penetration.

  The stimulus was painful, and my expression mashed into a grimace.

  Moisture dampened my pubic curls.

  Granted, not a lot, but enough.

  It wasn’t going to get better as I consciously fought the pleasurable sensations.

  “I will never forgive you for this. Ever. I don’t care how nice you pretend to be.”

  Our gazes tangled, and a glimmer of awareness met this self-righteous little speech.

  Maybe he gleaned the meaning behind my incomprehensible language.

  “I don’t care if this is your culture,” I whispered holding his eyes. “I do not give a single shit if this experience is the highlight of your miserable, fucking life. I’ll never forget this, and I will hate you for it.” My voice lowered, and I hissed the final word with as much derision as I could muster. “Forever.”

  It felt as if I chose to give over my body.

  Was there a choice in its truest sense to be had when I stopped fighting out of desperation, exhaustion and to avoid being taken in violence?

  Expression vacant, I flung his hand away then turned to stick my ass up in the air. My voice broke. “Get it over with.”

  Heat warmed the backs of my thighs.

  The tip of his cock burned as it bumped against my ass then slid down my crease to rub at my cleft.

  Breathing guttural, he coated himself in my juices then clamped both hands on my hips.

  Claw tips pricked the creases joining my pubis and thighs.

  The bulbous head butted against my entrance, and a good measure of my detached haze lifted leaving me exposed to the rawness of what was about to take place.

  My heart beat so hard against my chest I feared it’d bloody my skin.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to visualise my last boyfriend.

  No matter the desperation with which I clung to the memory of a flashing, white smile against ebony skin, all I saw was the alien’s feral visage glaring back at me, commandeering my mind as he plundered my body.

  He breached, burrowing into me.

  Lips crushed together until they numbed, I fisted the fur padding my knees from the rock floor.

  I expected him to hammer into me, eager to get off, but he went slow.

  It wasn’t sycophancy when I told him he was bigger than anything I’d seen.

  His cock was thick, heavily veined and had curved towards his hard lower stomach.

  Now it slid into me.

  My inner walls clenched and my fingers dug deeper into the furs. I concentrated on staying relaxed to ease his way.

  And he kept coming.

  There came a point where I thought of bursting, splitting in two.

  “S-Stop.” Anxiety spiked. My fingers curled under and scraped stone. “Too m-much.”

  I dry heaved when it got worse.

  He held me fast and continued to drive forward, stretching me to a disarming intensity.

  My hand flailed backwards and hit flexing abdominals.

  I dropped it lower to feel just what the fuck was going on back there.

  There was more of him to come.

  The worst possible outcome of my discovery happened.

  My body tightened, withholding the final inches of penetration to my womb.

  He halted, unable to tunnel forward.

  Adjusting his hold, he started shoving and the pressure was agonizing.

  Horror gripped me when his chest covered my back and his clawed hands bracketed mine.

  His body swelled in preparation of a final, forceful thrust to break me in.

  Losing the battle to stay detached, I crashed headlong into the moment.

  I hated the feel of him and was enraged by the injustice yet all I did was tremble, fearful I wouldn’t survive resisting.

  I was too scared to fight anymore.

  Hissing in my ear, he slammed into me forcing past the clenched muscles denying his entry.

  Arms collapsing, choked noises ripped from my throat. It hurt. It really did. I wasn’t prepared enough and no matter how hard I tried to relax I was too tense.

  My spine remained rigid until the piercing pain eased to a pulsation.

  Throaty noises and feral moans filled the air as his limbs shook.

  His body vibrated in pleasure.

  My heart hurt in deep, damaging ways previously unknown.

  The sensation of his large body shivering against my flesh was unfathomable.

  My body short-circuited, not understanding if it was in pain when that area had been used for pleasure.

  He sat heavy inside.

  The heat from his chest, legs and arms was overwhelming, and his rich scent saturated my every breath.

  There was no escape from him or what he did, I was trapped, impaled, and there was no getting away from it.

  He said something in a softer tone then gyrated his hips against my backside.

  The movement was so unexpected my eyes opened.

  Fear gave way to confusion.

  One of his muscled arms twined around mine, and our thighs pressed together.

  His pace increased.

  The weight of him rocked me, rubbing my breasts on the warm blanket as he stayed locked in place, rolling my hips and groin in tandem with his.

  I let my forehead drop onto my forearm.

  It’ll be over soon.

  Sensing my acceptance, the male behind me hissed a sigh that doubled as a moan when he increased his pace.

  His thighs flexed to sink deeper.

  There was no pain, my body forced open to him.

  The glide and drag of flesh against flesh felt ... it just felt.

  I jerked when his finger delved between my legs, hooking to press the side of his claw against my clit as he rubbed.

  Risking physical reprisal, mad enough
not to care, I grabbed his wrist and yanked.

  I’d shown him that to avoid pain not for pleasure.

  Ignoring me, he kept at it, going so far as to rub harder and faster.

  A coil of shivery sensation crept from where we joined.

  My tugging hand stalled as I scrunched my eyes closed and strained to feel nothing.

  I’d rather die than enjoy this.

  Thought blasted out the side of my head when he increased speed and pressure, stroking me as if a lover.

  I twisted tighter.

  Tighter, until I sobbed, feeling the familiar sensation of approaching orgasm and completely fucking horrified by it.

  Sweat and sexual juices soaked my thighs.

  My sex swelled and ached as I climbed to treacherous heights.

  His pelvic grind lost rhythm, turning into frantic shoves of his hips.

  The struggle tripped the lock in my pulsing sex as he hit a spot inside so tender my bones quaked.

  My climax erupted in a nerve-scrambling frenzy.

  Gasping, crying, I rode out the brutal orgasm with my head tossed back against his shoulder, spine arched.

  The release was accompanied with such a jumble of emotions, it hurt.

  It was less pleasure and more an acquittal of conflict.

  The male panting and groaning behind me jerked then snarled as he tried to shove deeper.

  The violent throb of his shaft was a smack in the face.

  I felt his seed spurt into me, and my stomach churned with sick.

  Bitter, the taste flooded my senses along with my sweat and his musky scent.

  The aftermath was short, reality an unpleasant intrusion.

  Revolted by him, disgusted with myself, I struggled and pushed away with a hoarse yell.

  He slipped from me, softening cock smearing damp across my ass cheek.

  Scrambling to put distance between us, I rolled onto my side at the edge of the fur next to the wall.

  I curled into tight tangle of limbs.

  Ugly words bubbled in my throat.

  I wanted to rise up and hurl them at him, spit in his face, but speech and rational thought was beyond me.

  Semen mingled with creamy fluid slicked my quivering sex.

  I let him.

  I sucked in a breath, but choked midway on a keening sob.

  The alien loomed above me on his knees.

  His laboured breathing slowed, and he carefully lay beside me, keeping quiet.

  The light died turning the room pitch black.

  He muttered something and acted hesitant to shift closer, my disquiet creating a heaviness to the atmosphere.

  Tired of staring at nothing, I shut my eyes.

  It was cold again, and I shivered, my teeth chattering.

  A strong arm curved around my waist to draw me over the blankets.

  Warmth covered me then so did his body.

  His strange scent enveloped me.

  As an alien rubbed my back and used his forked tongue to taste my skin, I wept.

  CHAPTER THREE

  He, Venomous One watched the female slumber.

  The harsh, droning light flickered on.

  He stood from the warm goodbeast fur to flex his now naked body.

  All four arms stretched wide as he tossed his head back.

  Before, he would have been decent in his lack of covering, but now he was male....

  He sighed, and rolled his stiff shoulder.

  It ached from where the sadistic Verak Obryn ThunderClaw gored him during the battle.

  The condescending fool knew not to fight to the death knowing Venomous’ mating instinct had roused yet did so regardless.

  The draw of a breedable female proved too great even for the cunning of a Verak.

  Though he did not blame Obryn for being confused by the crushing ferocity of his response to her.

  She was not of Venomous’ kind.

  What in the name of the Serpent was I thinking?

  He rubbed a hand over the brille veiling his eyes.

  How am I supposed to protect my Rä’Na in this hellish place?

  He didn’t remember much after scenting her.

  The pheromones, though faint, wielded devastating effect.

  His body had enflamed and his muscles swelled, mirroring the painful distension at his groin as an uncontrollable frenzy of want and need descended upon him.

  He’d been nothing but violence until the last neck snapped within his grasp, until the blood painting his flesh cooled.

  By then it was too late.

  She was his.

  He’d had no choice but to claim her.

  She was so feeble she wouldn’t survive their lusts long if he abandoned her, and that was as good as killing her, a crime so heinous it nauseated him.

  Venomous felt the lingering tingle of spent heat at his groin.

  He shifted, uncomfortable, and heaved a sigh of regret.

  The mating was bad.

  There had been no Elders to witness and bless the bonding, no kindred to hold her hands and remind her of a mate’s duty to bare her back as her male broke her in.

  Sorrowful, he gazed upon her with tenderness for all she’d endured.

  It was clear she’d not been able to read his expressions and body language as he could hers.

  She was very expressive.

  He knew his own face was less decipherable, something that acted as an advantage whilst smiting one’s enemy.

  His female wasn’t built like the Rä’Na of his birth planet.

  He’d tried not to harm her, but Great Serpent the female bore two vents.

  Does her species mate more than one male at a time, or do the males possess two seed stems?

  Knowing which orifice to impale had been a trial he’d rather have avoided for it was the male’s responsibility to guide the mating.

  He’d failed the undertaking.

  Miserably.

  Having her direct his hand had been upsetting, and worse, she made her exasperation with his deficiency plain.

  All feelings of humiliation had shattered once he’d entered her.

  To his eternal shock, the clasp of her body had not felt rough and painful.

  Rä’Vek of his guild advised him as an a’Rä that Rä’Na disliked penetration as their bodies could not secrete to lubricate, but his alien was warm inside.

  Soft and wet.

  Not dry, but soaked with a creamy liquid laden with the same heady pheromones that called forth his stem.

  His brow prickled then inflamed remembering his hardness enclosed in her hot wet.

  Her body was not angular and resistant against his own, but delicately rounded.

  It pillowed his heavy mass like the softest Zýt nest.

  The thrilling difference made up for her lack of gold.

  She had not one piercing.

  But she was wet.

  With a start, Venomous remembered his father’s advice; he would strive to avoid the experience of clutch after the first successful penetration yet he stood above his female and craved more.

  The urge to cover her again and again until they were both limp and sticky wracked him.

  He remembered her bending over, her horribly inflexible spine arched in the manner of Rä’Na submission.

  Gangly thighs had trembled with invitation.

  Her smooth buttocks had wobbled disconcertingly as she presented, the glistening vent she made him finger winking as his stem pressed forward.

  It had convulsively sucked at the air, teasing him to get inside.

  Now as she slept he could spread her legs, fall upon her and rut, rut, rut until he’d wrung them dry of even the faintest of urges to bring forth life.

  Shaken, feeling unnatural due to the incessant lust she summoned within him, Venomous retreated a hasty step.

  He stared broodingly at his tormentor.

  Perhaps my seeding begins early.

  She is fertile then.

  He held hope for so long he’d b
e freed from slavery and retuned to his home where he could seek a desirable life mate.

  I wanted no more than any other, a normal mate that understands me, what is expected.

  A pang of pain stabbed his primary heart and the second throbbed.

  I hoped for a beauty.

  Venomous sighed gustily.

  His dream Rä’Na was not meant to be.

  I would be honoured merely to have a strong, sturdy mate.

  Why this puny, ugly thing?

  If he was bitterly honest the release of his shaft had been a relief, even if it was a singularly painful sensation and for an unsightly alien.

  Venomous set aside his past desires.

  He was Rä’Vek now, a male of his species.

  Against Senate law, he’d taken an offworlder mate.

  He stared at the alien primitive in his nest with a strong sense of incredulity.

  The creature lying there is mine.

  His gaze flowed over her body, her shape familiar, but bewildering.

  The reality she missed two limbs was difficult enough to accept, but the fleshy nub between her thighs appeared a sore protrusion he worried over.

  Recalling her agitated reaction to his touch, it was easily upset, a crude thing he refused to believe existed as by nature’s design.

  He’d hoped it was an external pressure point that would open her womb when she directed him to it, not a mere disfigurement as the malleable lumps on her chest, yet the more he’d stimulated the reddened flesh, as she instructed, the more her body bucked and shuddered, the tighter the many sphincters in her channel clutched his stem and made it difficult to remain seated.

  In the end, she gasped for air as her alien speech tore from her throat between agonised wails.

  Had they been pleas for mercy?

  After all, her entire body had spasmed uncontrollably in pain, and to his eternal shame that tightening of muscle robbed him of control.

  He’d spilled deep within her hot wet.

  The gut-twisting pleasure of his sac squeezing, his buttocks flexing burned him even now.

  A ghostly memory of his loins bucking as his shaft spewed endless seed, flooding her sheathe and marking her with his scent altered him on a fundamental level.

  It dishonoured him to seed her before bringing her to the emotional harmony that mirrored his physical one.

  He hoped his ancestors looked away, sparing him their condemnation.

  Then she’d pushed him away and shut him out.

  What more did he expect with his appalling display?