Entered in the Alien Bride Lottery

by Margo Bond Collins

  I probably shouldn’t have said that. But she whimpered and leaned back on her elbows.

  “I want you,” I said, suckling the bundle of nerves gently, then rotating around it and flicking it with my tongue.

  She began bucking against me and I added a finger, sliding it inside her, preparing her to accept me. I moved faster, driving her toward the edge, until she cried out my name as she shattered against me, drenching me in her release.

  She collapsed, boneless, still breathing hard. Without giving her time to fully recover, I picked her up and stretched out on the bed, setting her atop me and positioning myself at her opening.

  Her eyes fluttering closed, she sank down onto my cock, stretching to take it all. I pumped into her once, then twice, making sure she was soft and ready. Then I grabbed her hips and began lifting her, then bringing her back down to slowly impale her on my throbbing cock.

  She whimpered, and I rocked into her, keeping one hand on her but releasing the other so I could circle her clit with my thumb. She squeezed tighter and tighter around me, the pressure of the woman I loved holding me inside her—keeping me deep within her as I made love to my mate.

  We came within seconds of each other, our cries echoing through the room as pleasure washed through us in waves.

  And that’s when my mating cock erupted from the tip, swelling inside her as my first cock softened and receded.

  Natalie froze, her eyes wide, and then she moaned in ecstasy.

  “You are mine,” I growled as I sat up to flip her over, never allowing us to come uncoupled.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I am.”

  As she spoke, I drove myself deep inside her, determined to bring her to her peak once more before I came inside her again—this time with my mating cock. The one that only she had ever known.

  And as we began to move again, I knew that this was perfect.

  It would always be perfect.

  No matter what happened next.

  When my wrist com buzzed the next morning to let me know Vos was comming, Natalie muttered and rolled over in the bed.

  I quietly pulled on my uniform and moved to the lav to relieve myself and splash some water on my face before I commed him back. I didn’t want to leave before she woke, so I stayed in there to return the Games Administrator’s message, switching out the mirror for a viewscreen. Luckily, his secretary was expecting me and put me straight through to Vos.

  The Administrator looked perfectly put together, even though I was sure he’d had a long night. But his white hair was perfectly groomed, his green skin bright and clear. He carefully examined the background in my com-message, and I cursed myself silently for not setting up a sim-back before I’d put the com through.

  “Oh, good. You did stay overnight. That ought to push us up in the rankings today.” Vos nodded, far too pleased with himself.

  “You have information?” I asked in my most military tone, only barely managing to avoid adding a crisp “Sir” to the question.

  Vos’s laughter echoed in the small lav chamber and I lowered the volume, worried he would wake Natalie unnecessarily. “I do, indeed, Captain.”

  I waited, holding eye contact with him for a long moment. “Well?” I finally asked. I knew he’d see it as me ‘breaking’ first, but I didn’t care. I wanted to get this over with.

  I want to lose. I would win everything I ever desired if I lost this fight.

  I shook off the thought. I needed to win so that Natalie could go back home as soon as possible.

  I could never live with myself if I lost and she had to go unwillingly with me back to Khanav Prime—or worse, to live as a ship-bride, a human female alone among Khanavai warriors, far from home and always in danger.

  No. I will win this battle.

  Vos finally answered my question. “Everything is set up as you requested. Tiziani has been informed that this is not a duel to the death. But does not know that his victory will not ensure his ability to claim Natalie as his mate.”

  “She will be able to make that choice, no matter what?”

  “No matter what,” Vos agreed.

  “Good.”

  “Your opponent did insist on fighting with the traditional Khanavai swords.”

  The weapon carried by the Royal Guardsmen. “Of course he did.”

  A contract popped up on the viewscreen. “You and your…Natalie”—he smirked at me in a way that might have led to having his head severed from his neck had we been in the same room—“should read over the contract. If you have any questions, contact my secretary, Anthony. When you’re satisfied, you should sign it and send it back.”

  I nodded, already scanning the legal language. That was one tradition we had imported from Earth that I did not like at all. In our past, Khanavai warriors sealed binding agreements with a sacred blood oath and then honored those agreements.

  Most of the time, anyway.

  Fine. Perhaps it was not a bad idea to wrap each other up in these knots of words, binding us to our agreements.

  “You should plan to arrive backstage at the stadium at thirteen-hundred hours, Standard Station Time,” Vos continued. “If you need directions, contact Anthony. In fact, if you need anything, contact Anthony. I will speak to you again when the duel is done.”

  He logged off, and I checked the chronometer at the top of the comscreen.

  Thirteen-hundred. That meant we still had several hours before I had to be anywhere.

  Excellent.

  I moved back into the bedroom, determined to wake Natalie in the most pleasing way I could imagine.

  Backstage at the stadium, I paced back and forth, loosening up my limbs and shaking out my hands.

  Not that I wasn’t plenty loose already. I had awoken Natalie with a kiss, and we had spent the next two hours discovering everything possible about each other’s bodies.

  She had been especially fascinated by the wavy bumps running along the top and bottom of my cock.

  “What are those?” she asked as she ran her fingers over them delicately and I shivered in delight.

  “We call them our mating ridges.”

  “Human men don’t have these.”

  I grinned. “That’s because they don’t have our additional mating penis.”

  “Is that what that was?” She wiggled a little, her eyes going dreamy for a moment.

  “It is only aroused by our true mate.” I brushed my knuckles against the side of her breast and over her nipple. “You are the only female mine has ever touched.”

  “Oh.” Her voice turned small, worried, and the dreaminess dissipated from her gaze, to be replaced by a little frown of worry creasing her forehead. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I won’t. I told you—I’m going to win and you’re going to go home, free and clear of any obligation to the Khanavai.”

  My assurances didn’t smooth her frown away, so I moved downward to distract her again—so much so that we were almost late getting to the stadium. Natalie held my hand all the way there, clutching it as if she might never touch me again.

  After this is over, she won’t. I shook the thought off and concentrated on the battle ahead. It wasn’t that hard to do. All the way there, viewscreens scattered throughout the station blared advertisements for the upcoming fight—starting with replays of the original challenge Tiziani had made. Every time his voice echoed around us, Natalie cringed.

  Then Vos’s face came on the screen, announcing what he called “the biggest fight for dominance in all the history of the Bride Games!”

  Natalie had been right. Vos was turning this into a spectacle like nothing I had ever seen. No matter what happened on the stadium floor today, Vos would be the biggest winner of all.

  Except Natalie, I reminded myself. That’s all that matters—making sure Natalie wins by getting what she wants more than anything on two worlds. The chance to go home.

  I was a Khanavai warrior. It was my job to make my mate happy.

  And I would do
that job.

  When we reached the entrance to the stadium’s backstage, she pulled me around to face her. As she had done before, she wove her arms around my neck and pulled me down to kiss me—a fierce, possessive kiss. Reluctantly, I pulled my lips from hers, resting my forehead against hers.

  “Be careful,” she whispered, her sweet breath fanning my face. I inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her, holding it, inscribing it in my memory. No matter what happened today, I wanted to remember everything about her forever.

  She cupped my face in her hands. “Promise me you won’t be hurt.”

  “I promise.”

  Tears sparkled in her eyes, but she blinked them away and put on a brave smile. “I’ll be in the stands with Drindl and Plofnid,” she reminded me for the third, or maybe fourth, time. “I’ll be cheering for you.”

  She held onto my hand as she walked backward away from me, our arms stretching out between us until she couldn’t hold it any longer, and then she turned and, straightening her back, continued resolutely toward the stadium entrance, squaring her shoulders as she went.

  Now, backstage, I could hear the crowd in the stadium, their conversation a muted roar. For an instant, I wished Zont were there to send me off with his unique brand of humor, wishing me luck as I headed toward the entrance to stand in the wings and await my introduction.

  But Zont was down on Earth, tracking his own bride—another reason this year’s Bride Games were likely to become legendary.

  No. All I had was Anthony, Vos’s secretary who had arrived with the contract that Natalie and I had completely forgotten to sign.

  When he handed the tablet to me, I saw Natalie’s name scribbled in her native English letters. I made my sign beneath her, the Khanavai letters bold and stark against her flowing writing. Somehow, that seemed fitting.

  “Thank you,” Anthony said briskly, turning away. Then he turned back for just a second. “And good luck,” he added before bustling away.

  I moved closer to the curtains I would enter the stadium floor through. I caught a glimpse of one of the giant viewscreens playing for the crowd.

  On it, an image of me kissing Natalie appeared, hundreds of morits tall. It had been taken in Natalie’s room the night before. The last thing I saw on the screen was my own fist coming toward the camera to smash it.

  Some assistant backstage handed me a sword, and I weighed it in my hand, checking the balance and how well it twirled.

  From the viewscreens, I heard Vos announce my name.

  This is it.

  Time to win.

  I strode out into the bright lights and a wall of sound created by the shouting of more voices than I had imagined could ever be on the station at all.

  Then I turned, my eyes searching the crowd.

  There she was.

  My Natalie.

  Standing beside Drindl and Plofnid in the very front row, waving and shouting.

  This was for her.

  I turned to face my opponent.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Natalie

  I realized as Tiziani came striding out onto the mat on the stadium floor that roughly half the crowd was cheering for him. That didn’t fit what Vos told us about Cav being the favorite, and I had to wonder if the Games Administrator had paid—or perhaps bribed or blackmailed—some of the spectators into rooting for Tiziani.

  My stomach clenched as the two Khanavai warriors faced off against each other.

  Drindl and Plofnid stood on either side of me, each clasping a hand tightly. My palms were sweaty, but I didn’t care. I needed their support.

  Beside me, Plofnid sighed dreamily. “He is absolutely beautiful,” it said, staring at Cav.

  He was. He stood a head taller than Tiziani, muscled and strong. It was all I could do to keep from sighing over him, too. At least, it would have been, if my throat hadn’t closed from anxiety.

  As Vos raised his hand to begin the duel, and the two began circling one another, I realized that Cav might not have as easy a time defeating the guardsman as he had boasted.

  Granted, Cav was bigger and stronger, and he definitely knew how to use the curved, ornate sword he handled. It whistled through the air as he twirled it around in a show of dexterity.

  But he had spent his adult life on spaceships, using mechanical weapons—he may have trained his entire life as a warrior, but he had not spent as much time working with the traditional Khanavai swords as long as Tiziani had.

  At least, that’s what Drindl told me as we waited for the spectacle to begin. She maintained a nervous running commentary on the various bets taking place all over the station, handled through Vos’s office, of course. Apparently, gambling on the winner of battles like this was a long Khanavai tradition.

  “I bet on Cav, of course,” she confided in me.

  “I did, too,” Plofnid said stoutly. “He is going to squash Tiziani like a Lorishi lightfly and then keep him down like an unbraided child.”

  Plofnid’s staunch partisanship gave me a warm glow inside—but I was still worried.

  Now, as the two Khanavai danced around each other, blades slicing through the air so fast I could barely see more than a flashing blur, I found myself standing, pressed against the barrier that kept us all from rushing the floor, leaning over it to watch Cav anxiously. My eyes flickered between his form several feet down and even farther away from me, and the giant Jumbotron-style screens floating in the air.

  I wasn’t certain how a fight like this could be judged. The two fighters were like whirling dervishes, spinning and lunging so quickly I could barely keep track of who was where. And I had no idea how Cav could possibly find any way through Tiziani’s defenses.

  But he must have, because suddenly he leaped across the mat, rolling on the floor and coming up under Tiziani’s guard, slashing at him once and then rolling away just as quickly. The crowd around me gasped and Tiziani stumbled. Cav started to go for him, but Vos blew the whistle and threw his hands up.

  “First point to Cav Adredoni,” the Games Administrator announced.

  Around me, cheers and boos erupted. I added my voice, screaming, “Go, Cav!” and jumping up and down.

  On the viewscreen in the air, Tiziani held his hand to his side, walking in a circle for a moment. When he pulled it away, his hand was covered in a dark, viscous fluid. Khanavai blood.

  He snarled at Cav, who gave him a mocking salute.

  Vos spoke briefly to Cav, who nodded and turned his back on the mat to walk away for a moment.

  Okay. So this would work like some combination of a fencing display and a boxing match? Where they fought for a certain number of points, maybe.

  “How many points does it take to win?” I asked my companions.

  “Either five points—which means drawing blood—or until one of the fighters can no longer stand,” Plofnid explained.

  Five points. He only needed four more, and then Could walk away from this.

  But scoring the first point didn’t help Cav. It only enraged Tiziani, who entered the next round with a ferocity he hadn’t shown before.

  I realized for the first time that Tiziani’s slighter build could actually benefit him. He was less muscular and shorter than Cav, but just a hair faster. He’d spent his life on Khanav Prime, in natural planetary gravity.

  I read somewhere once that could make a difference in muscle development. Ship’s gravity was never perfect, never quite the same as the gravity on a planet.

  So Cav might be stronger. He might even be more used to fighting in station gravity.

  But Tiziani’s muscular structure had benefited from being a guardsman on the planet.

  And he was technically better with the sword. Just as I had feared.

  Tiziani scored his first point with a single slash against Cav’s dominant left arm, the one he most often used to wield the sword. I gasped, along with half the crowd, while the other half cheered for Tiziani.

  I turned around to glare at those closest to me. />
  Traitors.

  Cav’s arm dripped blood so dark it looked black from where I stood pressed tightly against the railing, every cell of my body straining to make its way to Cav, to stop this monstrous gladiatorial display. But Cav simply wiped his other hand across the wound and shook blood off onto the floor, splattering it in front of Tiziani. Then he gave the yellow alien a feral smile and flipped the sword into his other hand.

  Tiziani’s second point came when he feinted right and then spun around to slide the sword across Cav’s muscular thigh, slicing away part of Cav’s uniform even as he cut deep into the blue alien’s skin.

  I ripped my hands away from Plofnid and Drindl to clasp them over my mouth. My stomach clenched and I didn’t make a sound.

  Had Tiziani cut across an artery?

  Is Cav going to die out there?

  I released a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding when Cav limped away, stopping to pick up the shred of fabric on the ground, using it bind his wound. When he was done, he tested his leg, turned to the audience, blew me a kiss, and twirled around on the injured leg, as if to show that he could.

  But I was really worried now. I could not stand here and watch him die. Because no matter what he told me, it was becoming clear that was a very real possibility.

  Frantically, I gestured toward Vos, then, when he didn’t see me, I jumped up and down, waving my arms over my head to get his attention.

  The Games Administrator strolled over to me while the warriors waited. “Yes?”

  I glanced up the giant screen, but Vos had turned off the mics.

  “Stop this,” I begged. “I will marry Cav. You’ll get the wedding you want if you just stop this.”

  Vos shook his head. “Absolutely not. You signed a binding contract.” He glanced at the warriors, then gave me a vicious smile. “Anyway, it looks like you are going to have to marry your warrior when he loses, no matter what.”

  My jaw clenched, and it was all I could do to keep from punching Vos in his smug green face.

  From his spot on the mat, now splattered with blood, Cav mouth something to me, but without my translator, I couldn’t tell what was.