Alien Alphas: Twenty-Three Naughty Sci-Fi Romance Novellas

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Alien Alphas: Twenty-Three Naughty Sci-Fi Romance Novellas Page 11

by Grace Goodwin


  Just let me keep my young.

  Granit nudged her forward and she approached the throne, drawing as close as she dared and dropping to her knees. No excuses. She’d plead guilty. She just hoped he’d have mercy on her.

  For what felt like endless minutes, Zander remained silent. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Didn’t dare lift her eyes.

  “Eslyn. Rise and face me,” he said at last.

  She stood on wobbly knees and curtsied. “My lord.”

  * * *

  Damon sidled up beside Granit, who held the female’s infant. At least ten servants and two of the human females had offered to take the baby off Granit’s hands, but his friend had refused. And no one argued with a male Granit’s size.

  “She’s afraid,” Damon murmured to the male who’d been like a brother to him since their escape from the Finnian invasion.

  “I tried to calm her, but I’m not the sort a female finds comfort in.” Granit grimaced. Between his huge size and the burn marks on his face, arm, and leg, Granit made an imposing warrior.

  “At least the infant doesn’t mind you.”

  Granit smiled down at the tiny young, who cooed and gurgled back. “No, he hasn’t learned ugly yet.”

  Laake, the third in their bloodless brotherhood, appeared on Granit’s other side and reached for the baby. Granit appeared reluctant, but gave the child up.

  Damn. He’d been angling for a turn. But Granit always had had a soft spot for Laake, who he’d once risked his life, and sacrificed his good looks, to save.

  He, Damon, and Laake had been assigned to watch the female’s room since she’d arrived two planet rotations earlier. An honor they’d relished. He’d beaten off four times between shifts imagining all the dirty things he’d like to do to that gorgeous female.

  “Eslyn, I’ve heard from Talia and Tomis their account of what happened on Zandia. I’d like you to tell me, in your own words, your part in the capture of Talia, daughter of Seke.”

  The female’s face, normally a lovely shade of peachy-purple, had turned a pale lavender. Her throat bobbed with effort to swallow. “Yes, my lord.” The words came out hoarse.

  Damon waited. Laake and Granit already believed her innocent, but then they’d probably believe her capable of shooting rainbows out her fingertips, they were so taken with the female. They took turns standing at her door, watching a hologram of her movements in her chamber, inhaling her scent every time the door opened.

  The entire pod had been turned on its head by the arrival of the two females, especially since it was breeding season.

  Damon found her just as fascinating as his friends, but he needed to hear the charges against her and how she answered before he came to any conclusions. Did she love her mates, who had kidnapped Talia? Would she attempt to protect them?

  Eslyn looked over at Talia and dropped her head. “Sankro, Elit, and Banf wanted to keep Talia as soon as they saw her. When they realized she hadn’t yet been pierced by Tomis, they saw an opportunity. Sankro told me to invite her to sleep with me, to separate her from the warrior. In the morning, they threatened to kill Tomis if she didn’t send him away.”

  “And did you hope to keep Talia, as well?”

  Eslyn’s eyes swam with tears. When she looked over at the other female, they trickled down her cheeks.

  An itchiness stretched across Damon’s skin. He hadn’t known Zandians cried—had believed that to be a human function. Seeing their female—for he, Granit, and Laake had come to think of Eslyn as theirs since they’d been assigned to her—in tears disturbed him. His fingers curled into fists, the desire to end her suffering shooting a spike of adrenaline through his system.

  But he couldn’t stop her questioning. And while Prince Zander was difficult to read, Damon believed he’d be compassionate with the female. She was, after all, one of only three fertile Zandian females alive. A precious commodity to their near-extinct species.

  “I did,” Eslyn choked. “Forgive me, I did. I wanted to leave Zandia with them, but my mates wouldn’t allow it. So, instead, I hoped for company. I’d had no one but my mates and children for fifteen solar cycles. I’d been so lonely.”

  Zander tapped the arms of his throne. “Do you believe the kidnapping to be mainly Sankro’s idea or all three of your mates?”

  Grief flickered over Eslyn’s face. For her mates? He ground his teeth. The word around the palatial pod was that they weren’t honorable males. Talia seemed to believe Eslyn’s behavior was coerced. “Every idea was Sankro’s.” Bitterness lowered her tone. “But the other two follow.”

  “Like you did.”

  She bowed her head. “Yes, my lord. I am sorry.”

  Why did she not defend herself? Tell the prince if she’d been pressured?

  “Did you fear reprisal if you did not?” Zander prompted.

  “There was always reprisal.” Again, he heard rancor in her words.

  Had her mates abused her and the children? Veck, he would make them pay if they had.

  “I offer you no excuses, my lord. Yes, I was afraid of Sankro—always. But I should have tried to warn Talia or Tomis of their plan.”

  Zander nodded. “I understand you at least did not sound an alarm when Tomis returned to rescue Talia.”

  Eslyn’s lips parted and a pretty blush stained her cheeks. She ducked her head. “It only gave him a moment’s advantage, and I don’t believe he needed it, anyway.”

  Prince Zander considered her for a long moment. “Eslyn, I understand the situation on our planet forced you together with the only other remaining Zandians. Is it your intent to remain mated to the males you lived with?”

  “My lord, I do not presume to make plans for my future, other than to ensure the happiness and health of my young. I was told when I arrived to await your decision on my fate.”

  Zander made an impatient gesture with his hand. “I’m asking if you wish to remain mated to them?”

  Eslyn wrapped her arms around herself. “Not in the way we were, my lord, no.”

  What did that mean? Did she wish to be rid of only one or two of them? Was there a mate she loved? Damon hadn’t considered the possibility of her wanting or missing a mate. It had been easier to think they were all scoundrels deserving to lose their precious female.

  Zander nodded as if he’d expected this answer. “Eslyn, you’ve lived apart from society for fifteen solar cycles under unusual circumstances. I am willing to forgive your actions against Talia, but I need to be certain you’re fit to be included and trusted as a free member of our society. You had three mates on Zandia. I’m assigning you a new set of three guardians. They will be responsible for administering punishment for your actions against Talia and for reconditioning you to live among us.”

  No. No, this wasn’t the outcome he’d hoped for. Had the prince already picked new mates for their female? They’d never even had a shot at courting her affections.

  Eslyn’s throat worked. “G-guardians?”

  “Yes.”

  Damon scanned the crowd, his jaw flexing with tension. Who had the prince selected as her guardians? He didn’t see any warriors standing by.

  To his shock, Zander met his gaze. “Damon, Granit, Laake. Step forward, please.”

  His pulse went into hyper-drive. Could it be? Not waiting for his friends to gather their wits, he advanced, taking a position behind Eslyn. The female darted a nervous glance over her shoulder at him. Granit and Laake arrived to flank him. The three bowed.

  “Damon, Granit, and Laake, you will take responsibility for Eslyn’s punishment and reconditioning. Keep her supervised at all times until you deem her ready for Zandian society.”

  Holy Zandian star! Yes.

  He kept his face composed, as befit a warrior and member of the royal guard. “Yes, my lord. Thank you.” Damon bowed. “What is her punishment to be?”

  “I leave that up to you.”

  His head swam and his horns stiffened as a kick of lust rushed through him. Every fantasy
he’d entertained the past two planet rotations involving their beautiful prisoner was about to come true. Eslyn naked and on her knees, at their mercy for punishment and pleasure. Eslyn bound to the bed, her legs spread wide, pussy glistening with readiness. And beyond sex, Eslyn safely tucked on his lap while Laake and Granit entertained her young. And he had imagined Laake and Granit a part of it. Because they were brothers to him and with the scarcity of females, he would never keep the honor and luxury of a female to himself.

  “Is she ours?” Laake asked, his eyes gleaming.

  “This is not a permanent placement. That determination is yet to be made. I will reevaluate when her reconditioning is complete.”

  A niggle of foreboding interrupted Damon’s internal celebration. What in the hell did that mean? Would the prince take her away from them when they finished? Give her back to her former mates? Veck that. Whatever they had to do to prove to Prince Zander they were worthy of caring for and rehabilitating this female, they’d do it.

  Laake bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”

  Granit handed Eslyn her infant and took her elbow, turning her around to face the exit.

  Damon didn’t move, blocking her passage with his body. She lifted her beautiful face, eyes wide. A visible shiver ran through her at whatever promise she saw in his eyes.

  He cupped her chin. Excitement radiated from his brothers, amplified by the jealous tension of nearly every male in the room. He didn’t know how he and his brothers got so lucky—so honored—for this task, but he thanked every star in the galaxy. He traced his thumb over her lower lip. “Ready, little flower?”

  She blinked up at him, her thick lashes achingly feminine. “Yes, Master,” she whispered.

  His cock thickened at her submissive words. Master. They were her masters now. “Follow me.”

  Chapter Two

  Eslyn’s heart hammered as her new masters led her back to her chamber. Granit limped beside her, his huge hand wrapped around her elbow. He wasn’t the one who frightened her the most, though. It was the one in front—Damon, based on the prince’s decree. He’d guarded her door, too. All three had. Granit and Laake, the younger one, were imposing. Large, muscle-bound warriors, they appeared both deadly and capable. But when they looked at her, their features softened. No doubt they, too, felt the pull of breeding hormones and found her attractive.

  Not Damon. He may find her attractive, but more like he wanted to devour her. When he’d taken her chin back in the hall, his eyes had shone with dark promise. As if he relished having her at his mercy.

  And she must be mad, because her fear of him was equally matched by excitement. Unlike her former mates, he didn’t inspire dread. Just thrills of heat and anticipation. What would her punishment be? Would he administer it?

  Actually, the thought of any of the three delivering discipline made her head swim with desire. But tangled up in it was her ever-present worry. What would happen with her children? Would they allow her to still see them? What fate awaited her former mates? Would they be released after reconditioning, too? If so, would they come for her? Would the prince return her to them when it all was over?

  Her stomach twisted in a knot. She dared not get too comfortable with these mates if she was just to be returned to the males she’d come to hate.

  “Do not be afraid, female. Our punishment will be fair.” Laake, the youngest and friendliest of the three warriors, laid his hand on her back.

  “Thank you, Master Laake.”

  The warrior made a rumbling sound low in his throat. Was it disapproval?

  “I-I’m sorry—”

  “I know.” Damon spoke over her, grinning at Laake. “I liked when she called me master, too.”

  Granit made an affirmative growl.

  Her pussy clenched, though there was nothing sexy about what he’d said. Why did they enjoy her subservience? Why did she like hearing it?

  Damon pressed his palm to the control panel next to her door and the door slid open. She’d never seen such technology. Even before the Finnian invasion, she’d lived away from the capitol, out in the country. Her family had been simple farmers. They hadn’t had anything close to the wealth and finery of Prince Zander’s pod.

  Granit released her elbow for her to pass through the door, but his palm connected with her ass in a light slap.

  Her pussy squeezed again. She carried Sol to the floating crib and laid him in it, closing the soundproof cover and activating soft music for him. He cooed and gurgled, kicking his legs and reaching for his toes.

  “So,” Laake said, horns tilting in her direction. “How shall we punish her?” He looked to Damon, which didn’t surprise her. Although he wasn’t the biggest of the three, he seemed to be their natural leader. The most ruthless. Like Sankro.

  No, not like Sankro. At least she hoped not. Sankro lacked the intelligence she saw behind Damon’s gaze. His dominance had been pure evil brutishness.

  Damon strolled over to the hover disk where she slept, and she realized equipment had appeared while they were gone. A bin of, oh, stars—were they implements of torture?—sat on the mattress. He pulled out a thin, reed-like instrument and slapped it against his palm.

  She choked on a breath.

  His lips twitched as his gaze shifted over to her, roaming the length of her body with a feral interest. “Take off your clothes, Eslyn.”

  She didn’t move. Not because she meant to defy him, only because her body wouldn’t obey the command from her mind.

  “Let me do it,” Granit murmured behind her, his thick arms reaching around to unfasten the clasp of the robe at her throat. Her skin burned hot everywhere his arms brushed. She stared down at his large digits working the carved bead out of the loop.

  Damon continued to root through the bin, pulling out ominous-looking implements. All different-sized paddles made of wood. A braided rope of animal hide. A flat strap. Cuffs and collars.

  Her pussy clenched.

  Laake squatted at her feet and unlaced the soft animal-skin boots she’d been given. Granit succeeded in unhooking the robe and he pulled it off her shoulders. Laake removed the boots, then slid his hands slowly up her calves, dragging the hem of her sheath up. “She’s trembling.”

  Stars, she was. She had two males’ hands on her at once and now the gaze of a third. Damon folded his arms over his sculpted chest, watching with an impassive face. Like the rest of them, he wore a white uniform, which stretched across his broad shoulders and thick muscles in swoon-worthy lines. If it weren’t for the length and tilt of his horns, she might be unsure of his interest, but they gave him away.

  Laake’s callused palms traveled further up her legs, sliding up her thighs, molding around the curves of her ass, up her sides. She whimpered as the fabric crested the stiff points of her nipples, but lifted her arms over her head to allow him to remove it. Her breasts tumbled free of the sheath and bounced. Her tight nipples burned, milk rushing to the tips.

  “Veck, she’s beautiful,” Laake murmured.

  Beautiful—her? Was it true? She didn’t know—it’s not like Sankro, Banf, or Elit ever told her and she’d had no looking glass on Zandia, save a pool of water.

  Granit, still standing behind her, buried his fingers in her hair. “Incredibly lovely,” he agreed.

  Her face grew warm.

  Granit fisted his hand and used her hair to tug her head backwards. He peered down at her. “She’s blushing,” he observed.

  The males spoke about her as if she was an object, but the wonder in their voices made it enjoyable. It was foolish, but she loved the attention the warriors paid her. It gave her a sense of power she’d never known.

  Damon sauntered forward and she blushed harder, his appreciative perusal of her body sending tingles skittering across her skin. Her knees trembled even more as she stood in nothing but her panties, watching him approach.

  “Do you think her pussy is as beautiful as her breasts?” Laake’s voice sounded thick as he looped his thumbs into the waistban
d of her panties.

  Granit circled an arm around her waist and spread his palm across her belly. “Let’s find out.” His voice, too, sounded gravelly. He slid his palm lower as Laake pulled down her panties.

  “Don’t pleasure her yet,” Damon commanded and Granit’s hand stopped before it reached her mound. “Punishment first.”

  Her knees buckled and Granit’s arm cinched around her waist, holding her up. His other hand came around to cup one of her breasts, which he squeezed, brushing his thumb over her sensitized nipple.

  She hadn’t wobbled out of fear of their punishment, although her pulse raced. He’d said, punishment first. Which implied there would also be pleasure. And the idea of pleasure at these males’ hands made the room tilt and swoop around her.

  The breast Granit held leaked a drop of milk onto his fingers. Mortified, she tried to mop it up with her finger. “I’m sorry.”

  He snatched her wrist and brought her fingers to his mouth. “Mine,” he growled and closed his lips over the wetness there, sucking it from her fingers.

  She gasped at the sensation, her pussy responding as if he’d kissed her there, instead.

  Laake grasped her ankle to help her out of the panties and stood beside Damon, lids drooping at what he saw.

  She tried to cover her pussy with her free hand, but Granit caught that wrist, too, and pulled both arms high over her head. “Is the view as beautiful from there as it is from here?”

  The other two males nodded, eyes fixed on the apex of her thighs. “Perfect,” Laake muttered.

  “Indeed,” Damon agreed.

  A drip of arousal trickled onto her inner thigh.

  “What’s her punishment?” Granit asked.

  Laake looked to Damon.

  “We’ll each pick a punishment and administer it,” Damon said. “Our choice of position and implement—nothing too harsh. I believe she’s sorry, don’t you?”

  The other two males both agreed.

  “She doesn’t appear particularly rebellious, either.” He took a step closer and pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Which is a shame. I should have liked taming her.” He relaxed the grip on her chin and slid his fingers lower, closing around her throat. He didn’t squeeze, but she jerked back, genuine fear flooding her, triggered by bad memories with her ex-mates.

 

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