Ransomed: A Sci-Fi Alien Warrior Romance (Tribute Brides of the Drexian Warriors Book 4)

by Tana Stone

  He swirled his thumb around her little bundle of nerves as he drove a thick finger inside her. Clutching his shoulders, she reared back.

  “You’re so tight,” he said, his voice husky. “Can you take more of me?”

  Panting was her only response as he thrust a second finger inside, feeling her tight heat stretch for him. He was desperate to have his cock inside her, but not until he’d made her scream with pleasure. Not until she was crying out his name.

  He pumped his fingers as he continued stroking her slick nub. From her jerky movements and her shallow breath, he knew she was close. This was what he loved, feeling women abandon themselves in his arms and under his expert touch. He lived for the moans and the cries and the sweet smell of arousal as he touched and licked and fucked them until they screamed his name over and over. Seeing the sated look on their faces made it even sweeter when he finally did bury his cock in them.

  “Dakar!” she cried, her voice high and breathy as she met each of his thrusts with one of her own.

  Her wavy hair was a curtain around his face, so he couldn’t see her expression as she bucked against him, her core clenching his fingers. She cried his name again before collapsing on him, her sweaty body sliding on his and her soft breasts pressing against his hard chest muscles.

  He let her breathe for a few moments, before grabbing her by the waist and flipping her on her back. She let out a small squeal, but her legs fell open for him. Blood pounded in his ears as he notched his aching cock between her thighs. The raised nodes on his spine were hard and throbbing, as was his cock. This was what he’d wanted since he first laid eyes on her. The need to claim her was all consuming—it was all he’d thought about in weeks—and now she would finally be his.

  “Dakar!”

  Her voice was all wrong. It was too low. And what was that pounding noise?

  He blinked a few times and his eyes focused on the faint light illuminating his officers’ quarters. The window that took up one wall looked out onto an array of stars glittering against the blackness of space, and he saw that the lights inset in the ceiling and walls were slowly illuminating. He remembered that he’d set the lights to mimic a sunrise, so this was his gradual way-up call. He glanced down and saw that he was in bed alone.

  “Grek,” he cursed. Another dream. He kicked off the sweaty sheets tangled around his legs and sat up. The pounding came from the door.

  He let out a fresh torrent of Drexian curses as he stood, wrapping the gunmetal gray sheet around his waist and walking to the door. Waving a hand across a flat panel, he frowned as the door opened and revealed his best friend and fellow Inferno Force warrior, Torven.

  Torven stood slightly taller than him, but both men shared the wild hair and tattoos favored by Inferno Force, not to mention the broad shoulders and muscular physique of all Drexian warriors. Torven looked him up and down and grinned. “Normally I’d assume you’d had a busy night with a female but we aren’t on a pleasure planet or a questionable outpost.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Dakar said, scraping a hand through his shaggy, dark hair and pulling it up into his usual topknot.

  They were far from both their Inferno Force battleship on the outskirts of the galaxy and the usual places the warriors went for recreation. The Love Boat was neither of these.

  Designed as a holographic enticement for humans, the high-tech space station tucked away behind one of Saturn’s moons didn’t have the willing alien females or nonexistent rules Dakar was used to. As a matter of fact, the Boat was all about rules. It had to be, since this was where human women were brought when they were abducted from Earth to be mated to Drexian warriors.

  Dakar had never given much thought to the tribute bride program since, until recently, his chance of being matched was slim. Like all Drexians, he knew it had started when his people had stopped producing females and were in desperate need of a compatible species. They’d happened upon Earth around the same time a violent race of aliens called the Kronock had attempted to invade it. The Drexians had defended Earth and then made a bargain with the planet. They would keep Earth safe if they could take a select number of females to mate with their warriors and help continue the species.

  The deal had been kept secret from all but a few in the Earth’s government officials, and the Drexians quietly went about taking females who were compatible—only about half of the human women were—and who had no strong social ties. The tribute brides were brought to the Boat where they were given a holographic fantasy suite and assigned a wedding planner and a special liaison. Most women warmed up to idea once they saw the hunky Drexians and realized there was no option to return to Earth. It didn’t hurt that they were wined and dined and treated like goddesses, which was a significant upgrade for most of the women who were taken.

  Since the Drexians were limited in the number of women they could take at once, there was a waiting list for brides and priority was given to only sons or warriors from elite families. As a third son, Dakar hadn’t expected his name to come up for years, but his recent assistance in retrieving a tribute bride and revealing a mole in the Drexian High Command had gotten him a bump up the list. Now he was waiting on the station for the next available tribute.

  Dakar hated waiting, and he’d been having second thoughts about taking a tribute bride. Especially after he’d met a particularly striking human at Torven’s wedding and hadn’t been able to rid his mind of her since. He grunted and turned on his heels.

  Torven followed him back inside the room. “You look like hell, Dak. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Dakar glanced back at his friend. Thick swaths of black ink swirled down from underneath the warrior’s tight black T-shirt and a sharp craktow tooth dangled in the hollow of his neck. Dakar had been with Torven when they’d taken down the deadly craktow. The two had been together for most of their greatest battles. And now they were cooling their heels on a sleek space station that looked nothing like their battleship.

  “You know I don’t do well when I’m bored,” Dakar said. No way was he telling his friend about the dreams. Not when he knew how wrong they were.

  Torven grunted in acknowledgment. “Once High Command has determined that the Kronock infiltration didn’t go any further, they’ll resume the transport of tribute brides.”

  “How is High Command investigating if their council was the thing that was infiltrated?” The news that one of the long-standing elite families had been working with the Kronock to sabotage the Boat and weaken the Drexian defenses had come as a blow, and the empire was still reeling. The father and son had been taken into custody and awaited trial for treason, a trial and verdict Dakar knew would be swift and final.

  “High Commander Dorn is leading the inquiry along with his brother, Kax,” Torven said. “Since Dorn is a new member of the council and his brother recently left the governing body to rejoin military intelligence, they have enough distance from the situation to get to the bottom of it.”

  Dakar nodded. Dorn was also a member of Inferno Force and had been their commander. He knew there was no warrior more fair.

  “Is this really about being bored?” Torven asked. “We’ve gone through long stretches without battle, although I know it’s been four weeks already and that’s the longest you’ve gone without some sort of feminine distraction.”

  Dakar tried to muster a grin. He knew his reputation as a ladies’ man had been established long ago, and for good reason. Dakar had always taken great enjoyment in the company of females. Any type of females. He considered it a personal challenge to figure out how to pleasure each species. The pleasure houses had even go so far as to compete for his visits, as he left their females so happy.

  “I know there aren’t really any options here,” Torven continued. “All the humans are matched to warriors and there aren’t many other female aliens except the Vexlings and a few others. If I remember correctly, you aren’t a fan of those bony creatures.”

  Dakar rolled his eyes at
Torven. “You make it sound like I can’t survive without bedding a female.”

  Torven cleared his throat. “Some of us burned off energy on the hover ball courts or in the fighting rings. You burned off your energy in other ways.”

  Dakar didn’t argue with Torven. He supposed the Drexian was right. He’d been restless since he’d arrived on the Boat. It hadn’t helped that he couldn’t get the human out of his thoughts. “What do you know about the other humans? The ones who refuse to become tribute brides?”

  Torven leaned against the ebony dresser and crossed his arms. “Not much. They live together in special quarters. I think some of them work around the station.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Is this about that pretty woman who pinned on our flowers at my wedding?”

  Dakar turned from Torven, dropping his sheet and striding naked toward the bathroom. “What woman? I’m just curious.”

  “They may not be tribute brides anymore, but you know they’re off-limits,” his friend called to him.

  Dakar remembered some sort of warning regarding the former tributes. He guessed the theory was if they don’t want to commit to being a tribute bride they didn’t get to enjoy the benefits—big, muscular warriors being one of those benefits. It was also why they didn’t live in holographic suites that looked like overwater South Pacific bungalows or romantic ski chalets in the Alps or have all their meals delivered. Those perks were saved for the tribute brides who took a Drexian mate.

  He leaned both hands on the dark marble sink and stared at himself in the mirror. The dark circles under his eyes and the heavier-than-usual stubble on his cheeks made him look less like his charming self and more like the dark and deadly friend waiting for him in his room. His gaze dropped to the tattoos that swirled red across one arm and half of his chest—the marks that represented his eternal loyalty to Inferno Force. What he wouldn’t give to back on his battleship and with his Inferno Force brethren and away from temptation.

  “Get it together,” he told himself. He needed to stop dreaming about the woman he’d met at Torven’s wedding, the dark-haired beauty named Ella who’d rejected the idea of being a tribute bride and now lived on the other side of the station.

  Torven was right. He needed to forget her and the jolt he’d felt when she’d touched him—like nothing he’d ever experienced before. She could never be his, and fantasizing about her was doing nothing but driving him mad. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned as an image of her long, wavy hair rushed into his mind. His cock swelled as he imagined the feel of her hair brushing against his nodes and making them heat.

  Easier said than done.

  To order FORBIDDEN, book 5 in the Tribute Brides of the Drexian Warriors series, turn the page!

  Also by Tana Stone

  The Tribute Brides of the Drexian Warriors Series:

  TAMED

  SEIZED

  EXPOSED

  RANSOMED

  FORBIDDEN

  BOUND

  JINGLED (A Holiday Novella)

  TAMED is now available as an audiobook! Listen on:

  AUDIBLE

  AMAZON

  Get this free bonus story by clicking below (but I suggest you read TAMED before reading the bonus wedding story)!

  BookHip.com/CRJHNH

  About the Author

  Tana Stone is the sci-fi romance author of the Tribute Brides of the Drexian Warriors series. Her favorite superhero is Thor (with Jason Momoa’s take on Aquaman a close second), her favorite dessert is key lime pie, and she loves Star Wars and Star Trek equally.

  She has one husband, two teenagers, and two neurotic cats. She sometimes wishes she could teleport to a holographic space station.

  She loves hearing from readers! Email her any questions or comments at tana@tanastone.com.

  Want to join her VIP Readers list and be the first to know about contests and giveaways? Click here: BookHip.com/CRJHNH

  Copyright © 2019 by Broadmoor Books

  Cover Design by Croco Designs

  Editing by Tanya Saari

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.