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

by Grace Goodwin

“Here.” Kogan opened his bag. “Hold these for me, my contrary little Piper.”

  Digging into his bag, he withdrew a handful of what first looked to be twists of metal and wire, each painted black, bonded to tight springs and corkscrew pressure spacers, and shaped into clamps no wider or longer than two fingers placed together. He dumped them into the narrow space between her elbows, giving her an unobstructed view of how precisely he’d bent and twisted the inner ‘mouth’ of each clamp to resemble the jagged grin of teeth.

  “Is this supposed to scare me?” she asked, because it was working.

  Kogan picked up a clamp. He chomped the empty air as he toyed with it and her nipples tightened, her belly shivering with dread and her pussy... well, her pussy tickled with curiosity, but only because pussies were crazy and right now Piper was convinced hers was a frickin’ loon!

  “Piper is a bad girl,” he reminded, in a soft tone that could have been compassionate were he not hungrily ‘biting’ that clamp in her direction. “Piper needs a spanking.”

  Her bottom crawled.

  “Bite me,” Piper said, and locked her lips. It barely kept back her cries when he combed his fingers through her hair, fisting the great handful that he used to raise her up off the table as high as her bonds would allow. He clamped that metal biter right onto the meat of her nipple.

  “Like I said, I promise to keep my torments limited.” He selected another clamp. “This first time, we’ll use the whole nipple and not just the tip.”

  “Mercy’s for the weak,” she strangled, because she was an idiot.

  “That’s the spirit!” Picking through the twists of metal, he clamped those biting maws all over her breasts. “I would be the envy of everyone at my training academy, if only they knew.”

  Running out of breast, the clamps expanded their torment, finding new places to bite down her ribs and across her belly. Exactly when he let go of her hair, Piper didn’t know, but eventually she realized she was holding herself up, her arms shaking as clamp after clamp found new places on her to bite. When they ran out of space underneath, they expanded again, latching onto her hips, nipping and nibbling their way down the backs of her thighs. Finding their way in between.

  “No.” Piper pulled to drag her legs together, ankles chafing in cuffs that would not let her. “Please,” she lost herself enough to moan. “No, no, no...”

  “Absolute power corrupts absolutely; that’s a human saying. But where you try to combat the inevitable through democracy, we use other means.” Kogan ruffled her hair again. “We use consorts.” Chuckling to himself, he gathered the last handful of clamps. “It’s all right to submit. I will guide you through it.”

  Piper grit her teeth. Her nipples were screaming now, pulsing under the tightening bite of so many gripping mouths. Her breasts, belly, hips, and thighs, everywhere the clamps held onto her, ached for release. She wanted to lie down so badly, but she couldn’t. The pressure of her own weight made the clamps tug and pull, tearing her in ways that she felt certain were ripping her skin.

  “Please,” she gasped as his fingers combed down through the folds between her thighs once more. “No!”

  Yes, was the bite of yet another clamp latching onto the outer flesh of her labia. Yes, was the grip of all those metal teeth taking hold of the even more sensitive inner flesh, the minor weight of those clamps pulling and clinking as she kicked and strained and failed to break away even when he latched that last toothy bite onto her clit itself.

  She writhed, sobbing. She threw back her head, grinding out the most guttural howl as he grabbed her buttocks in his hand and shook her. The clamps jangled together, a melody of hurt so acute that she couldn’t bear it.

  And yet, one stupid little phrase could have ended it. One stupid little line that teased her stubborn pride with the hope that he’d stop if only she would say she’d been a bad girl.

  And she had been, a little voice in the back of her mind whispered. She absolutely had been a bad girl. A grumpy, cranky, sex-deprived and snappish, very bad girl. One who deserved to have him pick up that belt and, heedless of how piteously she begged him, lay those steady stripes across her bottom all over again. One who deserved to feel the jerk and jostle of his clamps as they clinked together at each impact. One who deserved to have her nipples thumping and throbbing from the pressure of the tiny jaws that gripped them.

  And oh, God, her clit. Her pussy. She writhed, finding it harder to hold herself up off the table, yet there was no ease when her arms collapsed and she curled back down upon it. The slightest touch of anything against the clamps made the pressure unendurable.

  Except she was enduring. Not only was she enduring, but the pain itself was changing. She wasn’t just wallowing in a mire of it now, she was flying high above it. Soaring on each throbbing, burning wave. She wanted so badly for him to take these terrible biting metal jaws off her, and yet she thrilled at the sensation. She didn’t love it. She didn’t even like it, but she thrilled all the same, shivering, shaking... refusing to give in to the pain of each grinding tooth. Each rattling clamp. Each swipe of his belt as he whipped it across her bottom.

  Her bad girl’s bottom.

  The bottom she kept thrusting back for him to whip again, and again and again, harder. Faster. With all his strength.

  Until it broke her. Shattered her. Ripped straight through the wildly confused fabric of her being on fiery, throbbing waves of an orgasm stronger than anything she’d ever experienced before.

  Her ass was on fire by the time Kogan dropped his belt. Her head pulled back, her back bowing when he grabbed the length of her hair, holding her like a dog on a leash of her own biological making. She barely heard the soft rustle as he shoved his pants down far enough to be out of his way. The not-so-gentle nudge of his cock, as it butted up against the entrance of her, was lost amid the painful jangle of the clamps just before he thrust himself inside her.

  She’d grown numb to the pain, only the pleasure was left. The battery of his cock as he owned the quivering spasms that rolled from her womb, one on the heels of the last. His hips pounded her ass. Her clit clamp hit the table, her nipples screamed for relief, and her soul rejoiced in his refusal to give it. If only because she refused to ask.

  That was when the pleasure turned in on itself, becoming a whole new torment, full of biting teeth of its own.

  Her womb rebelled. Swollen and raw, her pussy refused the waves, not one orgasm more. They turned into razors, cutting through her even as the pressure of something vast and unknown began to coil deep in the well of her greedy cunt.

  Kogan pulled back on her head until her neck could go no further. “My name is Kogan Pulgoy Vovlov, the Third, and I am your consort. Come!” He slammed so hard inside her, the clamp on her clit hit the table and flew off, flooding her clit with a relief so potent that it was agonizing. How anyone could come under pain like that, Piper didn’t know.

  Except that she did.

  And even as her flesh continued to spasm, milking at the length of his cock and begging him again and again to come inside her, she knew... there’d be no living with him after that.

  Chapter Four

  “I tell you,” Kogan was saying while Piper continued to float in and out of herself. “I was one of six—six, out of my entire squad—hand-picked for this job. I threw myself into it, too. I discovered an aptitude for languages I didn’t know I had and learned seven of them.” Lifting his head off the wall, he craned to better see her face. “Eight,” he added, somewhat proudly, “if you count Terran. And really, Terran English ought to count as three languages all on its own. There, their, and they’re? Seriously? It’s and its? You have twenty-six letters in your alphabet, six of which you barely use. You’ve no excuse for homonyms. Ha! Or heteronyms, for that matter.”

  Piper said nothing. She was too busy drifting along on the languid aftermath of all the many aches that still occupied her too-heavy body.

  They weren’t at the table anymore and hadn’t been for some
time. Piper only vaguely remembered how Kogan had freed her from her restraints, picking her up and carrying her to his bed. That was where they were now, cradled together in his embrace, half propped against a mound of pillows and the wall. He’d plucked the clamps off her body, quickly but gently, rarely pausing to kiss the marks left behind. At least, not until he’d come to her breasts. That was when he’d paused to hold and caress them, and then the talking had started. Piper remembered nothing of what he’d said in those early moments. She’d been detached, in her body but somehow above and beyond it, on ethereal waves of heightened sensation so potent that no other awareness could get in.

  “No excuse for homonyms,” Kogan said again, one finger lightly trailing up her arm, twirling a lazy circle around her shoulder before journeying back down again. “Mm, where was I?”

  She blinked, her skin so sensitive that it seemed his wandering finger was branding a path wherever it roamed.

  “Oh, yes,” Kogan mused. “So there I was, one of six hand-picked soldiers from my squad, being offered the job of a lifetime. You better believe I threw myself into it, too. Not just anyone gets to be a consort, you know. It takes intelligence, strength of will, a certain sadistic quality, and an aptitude for languages—which, amazingly, I have—”

  “Mmpf,” she said through lips too heavy to move.

  He lifted his head, looking at her again. “What was that?”

  She tried again. “You already... said that.”

  “Did I? Hm.” He both shrugged and chuckled, making himself comfortable. “Well, it’s no less true the second time than it was the first, but I’ll continue on. Welcome back, by the way.”

  She hummed, too tired to speak, too sensually wired to sleep. She was, however, finding it easier to drag two thoughts together and once she could, what she started thinking about were the clouds of amber powder that had started all this to begin with.

  “Hand-picked,” Kogan said cheerfully. “One of six. I cannot stress that enough. If you only knew the odds—”

  “Were we drugged?” Piper mumbled, her tongue feeling every bit as thick as her lips were uncooperative.

  “Yes.” Kogan gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “Seven different languages... Plus the extra stuff: the art of poetry, massage. I learned to play four instruments—”

  “We were drugged?” Only now that he had confirmed it, could Piper fully wrap her head around the ramifications of everything that had just happened.

  “Uldarian Rut Weed,” he informed her, distracted. “Also known as Passion Powder. Also known as the Last Call Sniff Whiff. Four different instruments, and no, the kazoo was not one of them. Everyone always asks that, but although I did master the intricacies of that particular little hummer, unlike Boethal, I don’t count it.”

  Piper stared past his chest and out through the window at the side of the gray-paneled fuselage that took up the entire view. She felt cold. The environmental controls were on and Kogan was a muscular furnace underneath her, so she knew that coldness had nothing to do with the two of them lying naked in one another’s arms on his narrow bed.

  “I studied profusely,” he said, “and because I was earmarked for the ambassador to Earth, I learned everything I could about your planet. For six years, I took class after class, mastering all I could on a variety of subjects from hand-to-hand combat, knives and small-arms training, first aid, tactical strategies—everything one needs to know about dealing with women. You know I don’t like to boast—” his chest puffed with pride, “—but if I were Gilligan, I’d’ve had a working escape plan by the end of the pilot episode, Mary Ann’s panties in my pocket by the second, and been off that island ten minutes into the third. Of course,” he mused, scratching his chin, “I couldn’t do anything until she gave in to my seductive charms and hit me. Either way, your family-friendly rating system would never have been the same.”

  Barely listening to him, Piper pushed against his chest. Kogan loosened his arms, letting her go.

  “How could you?” she said, still so fuzzy she honestly didn’t know if she was more perplexed than hurt, or the other way around.

  Kogan blinked twice. “Farm girls are feisty. Ginger was always just... so passionlessly agreeable.”

  A flush of hot fury overwhelmed both her confusion and cold. “The Passion Powder, you idiot!” She resisted the urge to hit him, but only just. “You knew we were drugged and you... you did all that... that... that! You did it anyway!”

  Arching both eyebrows, he stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You ought to! You deserve to! I can’t believe you would take advantage of me like, like... that!” And she had liked it. She’d been drugged, but still she had liked it. She didn’t know which of their behavior she ought to condemn more, but he was the one in front of her, reaching out his hand to catch her wrist. So he was the one who caught the full force of her mortified, knee-jerk reaction. She slugged him, her knuckles only just grazing his chin because he jerked his head back.

  Her reactions were probably still suffering under the effects of the Passion Powder. His were top-notch. He caught her arm before she could scramble clear of either him or the bed, and when she jerked around, her other fist already flying to land another blow, he caught that arm too.

  “Get off me!” Piper shouted, but he yanked her back instead, flipping her under him even as she fell. She landed on her belly, bouncing once against the mattress before he hooked his leg over hers and the full force of his much heavier weight flattened her to his bed. Snapping her head back, she cracked her skull against his chin. Unlike her knuckles, that blow connected solidly.

  He shook his head, clearing his senses even as he barked harsh laughter. Grabbing the back of her head, he flattened on top of her all over again. “Finally,” he breathed, hot against her neck. The buck of her hips brought his stirring cock into contact with the crack of her buttocks. He ground into her, letting her feel the length of him as he swelled. “Piper, Rut Weed must be cooked to a certain temperature and mixed in sweet alcohol before it has any lasting effectiveness. Inhaled, one might feel a buzzing sensation for maybe fifteen or thirty seconds.”

  Catching her breath, Piper stopped trying to wriggle out from under him. “B-but... that would mean...”

  Kogan pumped his hips into her, a single hard thrust that bucked hers squarely into the side of his bed. “That you wanted it?” He thrust again. It didn’t take much to rekindle the fires of what she had so wrongfully assumed was there only because of the drugs. “That you are nothing like the last woman I served? Agi had no feelings for me. But you... you want me.”

  “I can’t stand you,” she said weakly, but strangely, it tasted like a lie. She rolled her lips, fighting back a moan as his cock rubbed back and forth, nudging upward, coating itself in the slickness of her desire.

  “Again,” he chuckled, the deep and heady reverberations rumbling straight out of his chest and into hers. “Whisper your sweet nothings. Tell me you don’t like me.”

  Her eyes closed as he worked a hand down between them, finding the source of all her wetness, her lingering soreness, and the slow-building ache beginning to overwhelm her all over again. “I d-don’t—”

  She gasped when he scraped his teeth across her shoulder blades.

  “Tell me how much I annoy you.”

  Her throat tightened, strangling her as the head of him nudged between her folds, slipping back inside her and, in a single stroke, reawakening all the parts of her so tender and raw that she couldn’t believe she could already feel the trembling need for more building inside her.

  “Tell me,” Kogan seduced, slipping one hand under her belly, reaching down low until his fingers found the slow pulsing tip of her engorging clit. “Tell me we don’t even get along.”

  She wept, hips already rolling to the circling caress of his fingers. “But we don’t,” she pleaded, melting into the siren’s allure of his touch.

  “No,” he agreed with a grin. “We sure don’t.”
/>
  The End

  About Maren Smith

  Fortunate enough to live with my Daddy Dom, I am a Little, coffee whore, pain slut, administrator at two of my local BDSM dungeons, resident of the wilds of freakin’ Kansas (still don’t know how I ended up here) and submissive to the love of my life. An International and USA Bestselling Author, I have penned more than 120 novels, novellas and short stories, and am the author of the Masters of the Castle series.

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  Vanquished Mate by Ava Sinclair

  Chapter One

  Khon

  I wish I were down there, running.

  I wish I were down there, hunting, my nose filled with the scent of my quarry, the blood coursing through my veins.

  For the third season, I’ve observed Claiming Day from the High Rock, cheering on my brother warriors as they claim their mates in this sacred ritual.

  While I’m not among them, I can imagine their excitement so vividly that my cock lengthens and strains against the animal hide skirt covering me from waist to knee.

  It gets more difficult to bear with each passing year. As chieftain, I have every right to join the hunt, but to keep my warriors loyal, I must keep them happy

  Females make them happy, and I have vowed not to take one for myself until all my fellow warriors are bonded.

  My father brushes my arm with his hand and nods toward the plains below. A virgin is emerging from between two rocks, crouching low as she enters the clearing. She has painted her face to look fierce. Bones are plaited into her wild mane of hair.