“I’m human!” I say again. “And you forced yourself on me.”
“No,” Kohn says firmly. “I did not force you. It is impossible.”
“You lie,” I say. “I saw it today.”
He’s remarkably calm. “The cock of a Ythilian warrior cannot rise in the presence of an unreceptive female. Our virgins do not fight to escape, but to prove to themselves that the male is strong enough to best them. How else can they be assured strong children unless their mate proves himself worthy?”
He’s talking to me as if this makes sense, as if this is common knowledge.
“Take me to the outpost,” I say, shaking. “I plan to file a report. What you did...”
“We are mates.” He cuts me off. “You are mine.”
I stop, staring at him.
“We are not mates! I am a victim... I...” I stop, remembering the orgasm, the sounds of my own moans, how my pussy got wetter and wetter as my spanked ass was pressed into the boulder he took me on. He may have taken me by surprise, but he’s right. He didn’t take me by force. My body welcomed his persistent seduction, craved it. I flush at the memory. “Just take me to the embassy,” I repeat wearily. “I have to leave.”
“You are my mate,” he says. “You will not leave.” His calm persistence is maddening.
“Are you not listening? I am human. I am an Earth citizen. I do not abide by your laws. I will not stay!” I raise my voice, unaware until I see him looking that two others have joined us—an older male and a younger one who looks very much like the man who just took my virginity.
“You have mated, brother!” The younger man embraces him, and the older man looks me over and smiles. “Now both my sons are mated,” he says. “It is a glorious day!”
“Father, Rothar...” The larger warrior turns in my direction. “I mated, but not with one of our own virgins. This female...” He inclines his head toward me. “She is a human, an Earth visitor. She entered the restricted area...” He looks at me and for the first time I see acknowledgement of our situation, but also anger. “She is a spy. She sought to blend in by dressing as one of our virgins before she took shelter in the rocks. I did not know. I took her without knowing.”
The older man speaks after a moment. “If you took her, then she received you. Any virgin taken, even an outsider who receives an Ythilian male, forms half the coupling bond.”
A ball of fear forms in my stomach as a better picture emerges. Sex is not just sex here. It is something more. They aren’t just going to let me walk away.
“I demand to be taken to the outpost!” I walk over, my fists balled at my sides. “I want to report what you did! You struck me! I demand justice!” My words trail off as the memory of what happened burns anew, causing my nipples to grow hard under the skin dress. Can they see? I cross my arms.
The three males fall silent, then the one who identified himself as Kohn steps forward.
“The outpost is a long distance. The most we can do is send an emissary to the outpost, who can send word for one of your officials. But understand, as you demand justice, so will I.”
Something in the way he says emphasizes the word ‘justice’ only makes me more nervous. My mind races as I try to remember the penalties for violating interstellar law. Laylah was right; I was foolish. Even if I escape this warrior, I may face worse consequences in a council court.
Kohn tells me we will return to his village. We take the same route as the couple I observed who coupled before us. I see their footprints in the dust, footprints of lovers walking side by side. Khon and I walk side by side, too, but he’s looking straight ahead, and I glimpse his noble profile, human, but with more chiseled features. His thick dark hair, fashioned in a long braid down his muscular back, is bound with a leather cord.
We walk for what seems like miles before I see structures in the distance. It’s his village, but the ground turns rocky here. I am barefooted, but my feet are not accustomed to this rough terrain. Kohn looks down at me.
“I should make you walk,” he says. “If you would play the part of a virgin, you should play all of it. The women of Ythilia grow up barefooted. They can run over these rocks without danger. They do not wince at the feel of their native ground.”
“I’m not a woman of Ythilia,” I say.
“No. You’re not.” He leans down then without warning and scoops me up. I consider resisting, but village is a long way off. He begins to walk and my arms slide around his neck. I inhale his scent, a combination of sweat and musk and an herbal oil that he’s rubbed into his bronze skin. His muscles move against me. He is so strong; he carries me as if I weigh nothing. I feel helpless in his arms, and stop myself from replaying our sexual encounter.
I do not mean to nod off, but I do, falling asleep with my head on his shoulder. When I next awaken, I realize I am lying on furs inside one of the tents. It’s a huge, six-sided structure held up with massive poles. The interior walls are hung with brilliant color tapestries, some depicting images of battles.
The top is open, and through it I can see stars. I almost panic, thinking I’ve slept hours. Then I remember that the Moon Festival takes place on the shortest day of the year followed by the longest night, which lasts five Earth weeks. It’s a night illuminated by the planet’s massive moon, which is reaching its apogee.
I sit up, groggily. The bed Kohn has laid me on is beside a rock circle under the tent’s opening. In the center of the rocks is a mound of Flame Stone, a gem that used to be the main source of income on the planet. Just a few put out enough heat to warm an entire structure, all without smoke or pollution. The mineral had made Ythilians prosperous before the War of the Seven Stars. But enemy forces targeted the slopes beyond the plains, collapsing the mines and setting back the Ythilian economy. I remember hearing news reports on how the attacks on the mines was a turning point in the war.
I remember being pleased. Earth has long looked down on what they considered a primitive race, and I’d absorbed that disdain. From what I’d heard of Ythilian culture, they were a barbaric culture unworthy of pity—a culture that forced women to mate. Already, though, I’ve learned that not all is what it seems.
“I’ve sent the emissary.” Those are Kohn’s first words to me as he enters the tent. He’s holding a platter of food. The Ythilians eat mostly native fruits and dried meats and vegetables, as well as a soft bread filled with a grain paste. I prefer food from my own planet, available at the tourism outpost, but I’m too hungry to object as he places the oblong carved bowl in front of me.
“Why not just take me to the outpost?” I ask.
“It’s not that simple,” he says. “You have broken our laws, little one. Your treachery led to your being bonded to an Ythilian warrior. Until your emissary arrives, you will be in my keeping, as my mate, and subject to my authority. Do you understand?”
I seethe at his words and bite into a piece of fruit that tastes like a cross between a date and a peach.
“I asked you a question, little mate.”
“I’m not your mate.” I hastily swallow my food.
He walks over and sits down, ignoring my objection. “What is your name?” He’s changed into a longer skirt with a leather belt and some sort of fabric slung over his shoulder. It reminds me of old pictures I’ve seen on earth of the ancient Highlanders, except his legs and upper body are bare.
“My name is Anya Givens. And regardless of what happened on the plains, I’m not your mate. I’m no man’s mate. Do you understand?”
“You came here to study us?” he asks.
I don’t know how to answer this. I’m here as a tourist, unauthorized by any agency to research. I’d wanted to expose them as barbarians, but I can hardly tell him that.
“Yes,” I lie.
“Then if you’ve studied my people, you know that when an Ythilian warrior mates, it is a life bond. His cock cannot rise for another so long as his true mate lives.”
“Your cock isn’t my problem.” I don’t addres
s the fact that I did not already know this. “When will a representative to be here?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “As long as it takes one to arrive at the outpost and travel here. Once that happens, you will make your case.” He pauses, fixing his dark eyes on me. “And I will make mine.”
I want to tell him there’s nothing to tell, that I’m a citizen of Earth. But what use is there in arguing with this barbarian?
“Try this,” he says, and picks up a piece of yellow fruit. He holds it to my mouth. “It’s dusk fruit from a tree that only bears when the sun gives way to the long night.”
I look at him warily. I can smell the fruit. Its odor is sweet, like buttery chocolate with a hint of spice. My mouth waters. I part my lips, unable to resist the intoxicating odor. He pops it into my mouth and I chew. It’s beyond delicious as it melts on my tongue.
“Do you like it?”
I nod. “Yes. Thank you.” I want more, but am too proud to ask. My gaze, however, must give me away, because he picks up another piece and feeds it to me. I’m like a little bird, leaning forward to take it this time.
“I suppose from your studies of our culture you know the dusk fruit enhances fertility, and increases the desire of a mated female to her true master.”
I nearly choke on anger as the morsel he’s just fed me slides down my throat. I regard the next, considering whether to decline it. It’s so delicious, and I want it. But I am not eager to swallow another of his taunts.
“You’re wasting it on me, then,” I say. “Because nothing could make me want a brute like you.”
“You were eager enough on the plains.” He pops the last piece of fruit in my mouth and I chew it, relishing the delicious flavor.
I don’t answer him.
“Come,” he says, standing, and extends his hand.
“Where?”
“To the springs. Tonight, I will bathe you in the sacred waters in preparation for the ceremony tomorrow.”
“Ceremony?”
“The day after the mating ritual, the priestess stands under the moon and asks the gods to bless the unions. When couples pair after under the god’s favor, the final bond is made.”
“I’m not going to the ceremony. And I’m sure as hell not going to let you bathe me.”
He kneels and faces me, then puts the tip of his finger under my chin. “Little mate,” he says quietly, and his deep, kind tone is juxtaposed with his warning words. “Your representative will decide the matter. Until he does, you are my mate, subject to my rule. If you refuse to do as I say, I will punish you as you have never been punished before.”
My hand subconsciously moves to a bottom still slightly tender from the earlier spanking. I’m not keen to repeat it. Also, I need a bath. I want the evidence dried on my thighs washed away. Soon enough, I will see an Earth ambassador. Until then, I will obey the warrior Kohn. But as I do, I will keep a tally of every slight, of every threat, and when my people learn of what this arrogant warrior has done, he will pay.
Chapter Five
Kohn
She is foolish. She is defiant. She is my mate.
She doesn’t yet believe it, so I carry the belief for both of us. The gods have given her to me, and I have no doubt they will bless us. And when they do—when she sees what the blessing means—she will be convinced.
Anya, you are mine. This I know, and already my blood burns with desire to protect her, provide for her, to train her. My blood burns with the desire to drive all thoughts of leaving from her mind, to make her burn too—to burn with pleasure so strong that she will feel the bond just as I do.
Anya. So pale, so soft. I watch her bathe in the spring, watch her wash the mud from her face. And now I can see the softness there, too. Our kind have evolved to be larger, stronger, faster, more powerful. In my mind’s eye, I always saw myself with one of those females. But now I only want her. I only want her softness, her sweet vulnerability.
I see others notice. They whisper behind their hands. News of what happened has spread. Although we have human lineage, the Ythilians resent the arrogance of modern Earth inhabitants. I, the chieftain of my clan, have mated and bonded with an outsider. Only the blessing of the gods will make them accept her.
“Do you like the warmth of the spring?” I ask.
“I’d like it better if I could have some privacy.” Her hair, devoid now of bones and braids, hangs in a flat dark curtain down her back. The tops of her white breasts bob above the surface of the water. I run my hands down her body, washing away the dirt and sweat and evidence of our encounter. Around us, other warriors are doing the same with their mates.
“Everyone is naked,” she says.
“There is no shame here,” I tell her. “We are not ashamed of sex here. We glory in our bodies, the bodies of our mates.” My hands slide down her arms, down her sides. I cup her bottom, and she looks up at me.
“Don’t.” Her tone is as tense as her body.
“I will not hurt you.” My arms slide back up, now cupping her breasts. The nipples harden like pebbles under my hands. She suppresses a moan and bites her lower lip. I trail one hand down her belly, slide it between her legs. I can feel her inner labia, slick and swollen, beneath the pad of my finger. “I can teach you to take pleasure, Anya, without fear. You are no longer a virgin. You can feel free to explore your power.”
“Power?” she asks, her voice as tight as the pussy I probe with my finger. She is hot inside, wet. “What kind of power do I have when you drug me with an aphrodisiac? That’s what the fruit you fed me was. You admitted it!”
I reach my other hand behind her back, pulling her to me. “In time, you will know me well enough to realize when I am teasing you.”
Her fair face flushes scarlet as realization dawns.
“That’s right, my little mate.” I begin to slide my finger in and out of her slick passage. “It was just an ordinary fruit. But your response is just as sweet, just as... juicy.” She squirms in my grasp, but it’s a half-hearted resistance. The body straddling my teasing fingers is warm and wriggling. Her pink lips are parted as she pants. The defiance in her eyes gives way to lust. “That’s it, my little one,” I coax. “That’s it.”
Around us, the soft sighs of other couples rise like music from the steamy spring. My cock is rigid with need. I must have her again. My hands return to her bottom, lifting her, spreading her legs. I nestle her pussy atop my shaft and let her go. She cries out as she slides onto me, the quivering grip of her hot channel rippling along the length of my sensitive rod. She’s looking in my eyes now, her expression one of helpless wonder.
“No...” she says.
“No?” I reach up, pushing a strand of wet hair from her face. “Say the word and I will remove myself from you.” I accompany my promise with a gentle thrust and she emits a quavering little cry and closes her eyes. “Is that what you want? Do you want me to remove myself? Or do you want me to move, to stroke your sweet pussy until you shake with pleasure. Can you feel it, Anya? Can you feel the flame of it sparking inside you? Would you put it out, my little mate, or would you feed it? Tell me what you want.”
She tells me without words, wrapping her arms around my neck and rising before sinking back down on my shaft. Her movements are unskilled, but she is using my cock, and joy rises inside of me. I let her, supporting her ass with my hands as she finds the rhythm. She learns quickly, her movements becoming graceful with only a little guidance. I dip my head down, finding a nipple. She throws her upper body back, her hair fanning out in the water. I begin to thrust harder, taking over, robbing her of control. And this is when she comes, her pussy contracting in waves, squeezing my cock until I spend into her in thick, hot spurts.
She cannot accuse me of taking her without consent. Not now. I see it in her eyes, the guilt, when she comes back to her senses. She’s ashamed of herself, but she should not be. I will teach her to love this, to love her natural responses.
I lift her off my cock, wash her gently
. Eventually my seed will stay inside of her and take root. Now I feel it trail from her body into the water that washes it away.
“Come,” I say. “We must hurry.”
She comes to her senses. “Where?”
I point to the line of couples approaching the rock at the edge of the pool. A fellow warrior, Ingnar has already laid his mate on the pink slab. She spreads her legs wide as he picks up one of the sharp stones from a pile off to the side. There is a stone bowl of emollient. Ingnar scoops some up with two fingers and slathers it on his mate’s pubic mound. She arches her back to his touch, spreading her legs further.
“What is he doing?” Beside me, Anya stops.
“Only virgins have curls between their legs, Anya. A mated female must be rid of them, to symbolize that her treasures will always be laid bare for the pleasure of her warrior.” I hold out my hand. “Come.”
“You... you think I’ll let you do that to me?”
“There is no let, little mate. It is our way.”
“Stop... stop calling me that!” She raises her voice, backs away.
As warrior chieftain, I allow my fellow warriors to go first, to honor their allegiance to me. But now I notice that those waiting their turn are looking.
“Anya.” I deepen my voice in warning. She is an outsider. She is challenging me. When she tries to turn away, I grab her.
“You will lie on the rock,” I say sternly. “You will spread your legs. You will submit.”
Tears spring to her eyes. Her full lower lip is trembling. I am not cold-hearted. I understand that she is afraid. Part of me wants to enfold her in my arms, to spare her what surely must feel like an indignity, but I cannot. I pull her to me, put my mouth to her ear.
“I do not want to publicly punish you, my Anya. I do not want to have one of my brothers hold you while I paint marks on your bottom and thighs with a leather strap.” I feel her shudder at the threat. “But test me and I will, and afterwards, you will still submit to the shaving.” I pause, letting my words sink it. She is trembling all over now. I press my lips to her temple. “You may not believe it, but I only want to bring you pleasure. Do not make me bring you pain. The ceremony will not hurt, and yours will not be the first pussy on display. Remember, what scandalizes you is normal for us.”
Alien Alphas: Twenty-Three Naughty Sci-Fi Romance Novellas Page 53
