The Kraken Series Boxset: A Sci-fi Alien Romance Series Books 1-3 with Bonus Exclusive Short Story

by Tiffany Roberts

  Whether ahead or behind, above or below, Arkon remained close all the while.

  Eventually, she caught Arkon’s attention, and they resurfaced.

  “This is amazing!” she exclaimed as soon as her head was above water. “It’s so different down there, and we’re not even out there.” She waved toward the tunnel leading out to the sea. “I wouldn’t even know what to begin painting.”

  “Is there anything that moves you more than all the rest?”

  Aymee grinned. “You.”

  There was sudden intensity in his eyes. He saw her, all of her, and sought to claim her with his gaze.

  He wants me. He’s wanted me since the first time we met, he just didn’t know how to express it.

  At that moment, all she wanted to do was touch him. Kiss him.

  Love him.

  “Sam, release the mask.”

  “All right. Field generator deactivated,” Sam said. The seal broke with a soft hiss.

  She reached up and took hold of the mask, pulled it away, and tugged her hood back.

  A loud crack from the ceiling echoed through the chamber. Dirt and bits of rock rained into the water from overhead.

  Aymee looked up to see a huge piece of the ceiling directly above her tremble and fall.

  Arkon slammed into her with startling speed, enfolding her in his arms. They plunged underwater. Stinging seawater filled her nose and mouth.

  There was an immense sound behind them — the deep, resonating bass of a massive rock breaking the surface — and Aymee and Arkon were thrust forward on a wave of displaced water. Her head came up. She sputtered and gasped for air. Arkon twisted as they crashed into the wall, taking the impact on his back; the force of it rattled into Aymee.

  He shifted his hold on her, raising his arms to keep her above the surface as they came back down. Her hair, free of its tie, covered her face, and she coughed up water, but she didn’t go under again. Water lashed at them angrily and pulled away several times. Arkon kept them locked in place until the waves calmed.

  Aymee coughed a few times to clear her throat and swept her hair back, looking up. Bits of debris tumbled from the hole in the ceiling, which had expanded by at least half of its original size.

  “Ark—”

  He yanked her into a crushing embrace with arms and tentacles. One of his hands cupped the back of her head, guiding her face to his shoulder. His breath was ragged, and faint tremors rippled through him.

  Aymee slipped her arms around him. “Arkon?”

  “I’m such a fool,” he muttered. “I should have known the rain would… I almost lost you, Aymee.”

  “I’m okay.” She rubbed her hands up and down his back. His trembling didn’t cease.

  “Are you sure?” A pair of his tentacles moved over her back, mimicking the motions of her hands.

  “You saved me.” She kissed his shoulder, ignoring the thundering of her pulse. “I’m fine.”

  Taking gentle hold of her hair, he lifted her head back. His eyes were rounded, pupils dilated to huge, black pits. For a moment, he just stared at her.

  Then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers in a desperate, claiming kiss.

  Aymee’s eyes widened only to flutter shut as she opened to him. Her body molded to his, held tight in his quivering embrace. He stole her breath as he took from her mouth, his lips caressing, sucking, nipping, and filled her once more with the breath of life. She tasted him on her tongue and craved more.

  Heat suffused her. Her breasts ached, and her nipples tightened, frustratingly confined by the suit; all she wanted was to feel his skin on hers.

  His hand slid from her hair to her neck, gently tipping her head back to deepen the kiss before his mouth trailed from hers and caressed her jaw.

  “Arkon,” she sighed. Setting her hands on his chest, she gave him a little shove.

  He drew back and blinked, his pupils contracting. “I am sorry, Aymee. I did not—”

  Aymee covered his mouth once more in a kiss, silencing his words, before pulling back with a smile. “Don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry about.” She rubbed her cheek against his. “Loosen your hold, Arkon,” she said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Arkon eased his grip reluctantly, tentacles sliding over the suit at her waist, hips, and thighs as he uncoiled them. She parted her legs once they were released, and the throbbing between them intensified.

  “Take us to the ladder,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  He held her gaze as he swam. His trembling had ceased, but now a different sort of energy radiated from him.

  Anticipation.

  When they reached the ladder, he grasped one of the rungs overhead, anchoring them in place.

  She kissed the small hollow at the base of his throat. “Wrap a tentacle around my waist and raise us up out of the water.”

  When he obeyed, pulling up so their pelvises were exposed, she smoothed her palm down his arm, clasped his wrist, and guided his other hand to the ladder rung. “Keep your hands here.”

  Arkon tilted his head, the curiosity in his gaze — which had become delightfully familiar to her — bolstered by intense longing.

  “Why?” he rasped.

  “Because I want you to trust me.” She brushed her nose over his cheek and kissed the corner of his mouth. Bringing her hand to her chest, she slid her fingertips around the suit’s circular chest piece. The suit loosened, gaping open in the back. Cool air brushed her skin.

  “I trust you, Aymee.” The tentacle around her waist tightened infinitesimally.

  She straightened, allowing him to take her weight, and pulled her arms free of the suit. She peeled the material farther down, exposing her breasts.

  He lowered his gaze, and his pupils expanded once more. She touched a hand to his chest; his hearts beat rapidly against her palm, and he released a shuddering breath.

  Aymee smiled and curled her other arm around his neck, leaning in to kiss him. He returned the kiss and his muscles tensed.

  Her nipples rasped against his skin, the pressure increased with each of their heavy breaths, and jolts of pleasure shot straight to her core. She hooked a leg around his waist and drew them closer together, but that would be all — this was about him.

  His mouth tasted of salt and something wholly Arkon. She slid her hand down his chest, over ridges of muscle, past his lean stomach, and halted it at his pelvis. He swayed his hips into her palm and gasped against her mouth. Something hard bulged beneath his skin, and he stilled as her fingers dipped lower.

  “Aymee, I…I don’t know...”

  She lifted her head and met his gaze. Apprehension and desire warred in his eyes.

  “Trust me, Arkon.”

  He nodded, tipped his head back, and closed his eyes. “Always.”

  Aymee watched his face as she explored with her hand, searching until the tips of her fingers touched upon his slit. Gently, she stroked along its length.

  Arkon’s shaft pushed out against her palm; she grasped it.

  The ladder rungs groaned as he tightened his grip and hissed through his teeth. The cords stood out on his neck, and his brow creased.

  He was hard and slick, and her hand glided over his length easily. Only when she reached his base, and something brushed over her skin, did she lower her gaze.

  His cock was darker than his normal skin at its tip and darker still at its base, where four thin, two-centimeter-long feelers writhed. Moisture glistened from his shaft. She lifted her hand and rubbed her fingers together.

  He produced his own lubricant.

  “Aymee.”

  She looked up. Arkon had tipped his chin down to look at her with uncertainty in his eyes.

  Aymee smiled, replaced her hand, and curled her fingers around his girth. He was hot and thick, velvet over steel. Her gaze locked with his as she stroked him, setting an easy rhythm.

  “You’re beautiful,” she said.

  Arkon groaned. Two of his tentacles sl
id along her legs, up the backs of her thighs, and over her ass to caress the bare skin of her back.

  Aymee trailed her lips over his chest and up his throat until their mouths met once more. He kissed her deeply, desperate with need, and she gave all she could. His tentacles moved around her sides to caress the undersides of her breasts. She moaned into his mouth, grinding her pelvis against him as she tightened her leg around his waist.

  His hips rocked, and his stomach quivered. His motions grew more hurried, frenzied, seeking. She squeezed, quickening her strokes.

  Arkon tore his mouth from hers with a growl. He threw his head back, expression drawn, teeth clenched. His shaft thickened, growing impossibly harder before a loud groan of pleasure burst from him. His body trembled and jerked as he came. Aymee didn’t relent until he sagged forward, shivering in the aftermath.

  She moved her hand to the base of his shaft and pressed a fingertip to his pulsing feelers. Her core clenched as she realized where they’d touch once Arkon was inside her.

  His shoulders rose and fell with his deep, ragged breaths. “That was... I… I do not have the words.”

  Aymee chuckled and flattened her palm on his chest. His hearts pounded.

  Releasing the ladder, he pulled her against him and fell backward into the water. He floated on the surface with her laying atop him and ran the tips of his tentacles along her spine. His bare skin, despite the solid muscle beneath, was soft. She laid her cheek on his chest and listened to the sound of his heartbeats, content as they drifted. Occasionally, his tentacles moved in the water, directing them well away from the broken ceiling.

  “Thank you,” he finally said, awe in his voice.

  Aymee laughed, lifting her head to look at him. Her hair fell forward. “It was my pleasure.”

  Chapter 15

  A low rumbling roused Arkon from slumber. He opened his eyes and listened as the sound built to a peak and faded away. He could feel it, too, but only barely.

  The overhead lights were off, and the lights along the bases of the walls were dim, leaving the room in relative darkness. With Aymee — dressed only in a long-sleeved shirt — snuggled against him in bed, her bare legs tangled with his tentacles, it was a comforting darkness.

  Only her slow, gentle breaths broke the ensuing silence. He turned his head toward her. She looked younger while she slept, her features softer despite the shadows cast upon her face. Perhaps it was the absence of the sorrow he too often saw in her eyes. Aymee was doing better than she had been the night he’d brought her here, but she was still healing.

  He understood — Aymee was a doctor, expected to display calm and confidence to soothe others in dire situations. But she had Arkon, now. He would be her strength when she felt weak. She didn’t have to pretend for him.

  The rumbling came again, louder this time. Aymee inhaled and shifted, pressing her face deeper into his shoulder as her hand moved from his chest to his stomach.

  The slide of her palm over his skin heated his blood, and his thoughts returned to the day before. Whether due to his people’s general avoidance of it or his own inexperience, he’d never imagined physical contact could be so staggeringly powerful.

  Not any physical contact, he corrected. Aymee was the key. Her touch affected him.

  They had floated in the water for some time after she’d pleasured him, and once his hearts had finally slowed and the euphoria of her touch had faded, he’d wanted to explore more of her. His glimpse of her breasts had left him craving, and the fleeting brush of his tentacles over them had been taste enough to become addicted. Aymee had only laughed and pulled her suit back into place when he tried to touch her after climbing out of the water.

  “This was about you,” she’d said with a soft smile before kissing him.

  Aymee had taken enjoyment from making him feel good. He couldn’t deny his lack of understanding at the concept. She’d done it to him, and he’d felt it all. How could the pleasure have been hers? He wanted to learn her body, her taste, every tiny aspect of her; he wanted to learn how to make her cry out in ecstasy. But, somehow, she’d found satisfaction through his release.

  That went against all he’d known about females before meeting Aymee. He’d been told kraken females took pleasure for themselves. What concern had they for the males they mated with? Thanks to the way the kraken were designed, there’d always been plenty of males ready to please and provide for the relatively few females.

  It was a male’s duty, after all, to attempt to father the next generation of kraken. Personal desire or contentment was nothing compared to the survival of their people.

  Not so with Aymee. She wanted to make Arkon happy. More than that, she derived her own happiness from his.

  He lightly combed his claws through her hair, careful of the tangles.

  On a rational level, Arkon knew that the ways of his people did not apply to humans. Their physiology, history, and societies were very different, shaped by unique challenges and necessities. Choosing a mate did not have the same meaning to humans as it did to kraken. It did not have the same implications.

  Still, he couldn’t help but feel Aymee had chosen him. It was likely she’d done so after their night together on the beach, but he’d been too startled by his body’s reactions to recognize the significance of what she’d offered — herself. Her actions today had expanded his understanding of the way humans viewed such matters; Aymee had placed Arkon’s contentment before her own, had chosen his satisfaction, had chosen him despite their multitude of differences.

  Absently, he trailed the tip of a tentacle down her leg.

  “Is it morning already?” Aymee asked, voice husky with sleep.

  “No, it is not,” he replied. The base’s lights — at least in this room — were set on some sort of timing mechanism. They came on fully only for a few hours around sunrise and sunset. Aymee had theorized it was because the people who’d worked here had slept in shifts.

  “Then why are you awake?”

  As though in answer to her question, the rumbling returned, drawn out over several seconds.

  “Another storm?” She buried her face between his neck and shoulder and slid an arm around him. “Can you hear the storms when you’re below?”

  “Not in the Facility, no. But in the water, those sounds sometimes seem to go on forever. There is a certain feeling in the sea when a storm begins. It is difficult to define or describe...”

  “What kind of feeling?”

  “It feels like...the water is charged. It’s tension, anticipation, fear. The currents are disrupted and can become violent, and much of the sea life seeks shelter.”

  “Is it dangerous?” Her breath was warm against his neck and sent tingles across his skin.

  “Hunts are ended when such storms begin, and most of us remain home.” As his awareness of her body against his heightened, it became more difficult to hold onto his thoughts. “I’ve never known a kraken to be killed by lightning, but the sea is dangerous enough without the complications introduced during bad weather.”

  Her hand returned to his chest, resting above his hearts. “Must be difficult during the wet season, then.” She rubbed her thumb across his skin. “Do you miss it? Home?”

  Arkon slid his tentacle back up her leg slowly. “I miss Jax, Macy, and Sarina. Even Dracchus, if I am honest. I know there is still so much information to delve through with the Computer. It is the only home I have ever known…but I do not miss it. I am content.”

  Her hand stilled, and she fell silent; Arkon wondered if she’d fallen asleep.

  “Thank you for being here with me,” she finally said.

  He shifted, propping himself up on an elbow, and turned to look down at her. She moved onto her back, hair fanning out over the bedding.

  “There’s nowhere else I would rather be,” he said, cupping her cheek in his palm.

  She peered up at him, a soft smile on her lips, and cradled his jaw in her hand. “Me too.”

  After a moment,
his gaze trailed downward, sliding over her body. Human and kraken anatomy bore many similarities, at least on the surface, but she should have appeared alien to him. She should’ve been little more than a passing curiosity, easily sated and subsequently forgotten. Yet she tantalized him. Aroused him.

  She was beautiful in every line and curve, and he cherished every smile she gifted him.

  Her arm fell to rest beside her head. “Do you want to see me, Arkon?”

  Hearts stilling, he stared down at her; had he heard correctly? Her legs parted as she slid a foot along his tentacles.

  Arkon swallowed. “Yes.”

  Aymee raised her hands to the collar of her shirt, unfastening the top button and allowing the fabric to billow open before moving down. Arkon watched, enrapt, as she revealed her skin little by little. His breath quickened when her fingers hovered over her stomach, and his claws dug into the bedding when she touched the final button.

  Once it was undone, she grasped the edges of the shirt and drew it slowly apart.

  Arkon’s breath fled, and heat suffused him.

  She lay bare before him. Her breasts were small but full, tipped with dark nipples, and her flat stomach dipped before meeting the flare of her hips; farther down, an enticing patch of black hair. With one knee bent, she parted her thighs, allowing him a glimpse of the pink flesh between her legs.

  His pulsating shaft pressed to the inside of his slit. His tentacles — sliding restlessly, hungrily, along her legs — tasted her growing arousal in the air, and it sent a shudder through him.

  “I see you, Aymee,” he rasped, “and long to do more.”

  “You can touch me, Arkon,” she beckoned.

  He settled a trembling hand on her stomach and slowly trailed it up, brushing between curves of her breasts with his fingers. Her skin was warm, soft, and responsive. When he covered a breast with his palm, she closed her eyes and arched into his touch.

  Shifting his tentacles, Arkon lifted his torso and held himself over her. He placed his free hand on her other breast and stroked her beaded nipples with the pads of his thumbs. She released a soft sigh.