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Devil in the Hold: A Scifi Alien Romance (Fated Mates of Breeder Prison Book 3)

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by Tammy Walsh




  Devil In The Hold

  Tammy Walsh

  Contents

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  1. Agatha

  2. Egara

  3. Agatha

  4. Egara

  5. Agatha

  6. Egara

  7. Agatha

  8. Egara

  9. Agatha

  10. Egara

  11. Agatha

  12. Egara

  13. Agatha

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  Alien Breeder’s Bond Sneak Peek

  1. Emma

  Also by Tammy Walsh

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  Agatha

  He was a fascinating, terrifying sight, like seeing the remains of a horrific car crash on your way home from the supermarket. You knew you shouldn’t look but you couldn’t help it.

  His head was angular and square, his chin thick and muscular, his huge lat muscles so broad he might as well have had no neck.

  He towered over Lily who greeted and ushered him toward her “wares.” That was us, the Prizes the fighters could choose from.

  I thought Lily might share a little more camaraderie with me considering we were from the same species but was met with disappointment.

  I had quickly learned we were not alone in the universe. There were as many intelligent species spread throughout the galaxy as there were creatures on Earth.

  As a trained scholar, I had a fascination with history. When the other girls told me about their species, I found a treasure trove of new fables.

  It was the stories I loved, the way they grabbed an audience and held them suspended during their telling and invoked emotions that enthralled. The girls told me all about their species. They were very open and excited to share their cultures. But the discussions always ended the same way—with them turning sad and no longer wishing to speak with me.

  Reminiscing about the past could have that effect, I supposed. The stories kept me entertained while the beasts took me to their cells and used my body for their vulgar purposes.

  Sometimes I enjoyed it. Most of the time, I didn’t.

  I floated away into the worlds of other cultures, finding solace in knowing how small I was and how there were billions, possibly trillions, of lives out there, keenly unaware of my existence. It made me aware of just how little I really was in the grand scheme of things.

  The monster that leered at each of the Prizes now was a species I was unaccustomed to. He was huge and his body was brandished with scars from countless battles. Gold rings hung from his nose and the fringes of his ears. Where the other girls shied away from him, I peered at those ornaments and wondered what they meant.

  My curiosity had gotten me in more trouble than I cared to admit. The prisoners took my interest to mean I was attracted to them and not their scars and tattoos spread across their bodies.

  I tugged on the arm of my sheer fabric dress to reveal the dark bruise on my arm. I got it from falling out of a prisoner’s bed the day before. It was sore to the touch and hadn’t yet turned purple on its way to healing itself. I was desperate for a night off. Perhaps this imperfection would convince the monster surveying the girls to pass on me.

  The monster snorted, still a little tired from his earlier battle. His eyes finally came to mine. I quickly looked away and cursed myself for losing track of myself again.

  He pointed at me with a hand home to a nest of sharpened black nails.

  “That one,” he growled.

  Shit.

  I stepped from the dais. The monster didn’t wait for me to join him. Instead, he turned on his hooves and marched toward the hallway. Before I could step forward to follow him, one of the other girls grabbed me by the arm.

  “Careful,” Harper said. “He’s Egara.”

  Egara.

  I turned to peer at him and appraised his muscular frame head to foot. In good shape to be sure, but no better or worse than a lot of prisoners.

  I shot Harper a look. Concern was etched clearly on her face.

  The rumors about the legendary “Egara” were as terrifying as they were fascinating. He was what the girls referred to as a “jackhammer.”

  Once he started, he didn’t stop, pushing each of the girls far beyond their usual physical capabilities. He used them for his own pleasure but unlike many of the other inmates who might talk the talk, Egara could actually walk the walk.

  He’d been with many of the girls on the stage and liked to pick a different “flavor” each time he won a fight.

  The girls talked. We were all aware of the challenge he provided. I wondered if I would fare as badly as they had.

  “Take this,” Harper said, taking something from one of the other girls.

  It was a vial of lubrication farmed from a plant called a ghastic.

  I gulped.

  “You’re going to need it,” Harper said.

  I nodded my thanks and took it from her. With no pockets to conceal it in, I cupped it in the palm of my hand.

  I joined Egara at the exit and felt a little unsteady as I moved through the hallways at his side. The other prisoners leered at me, nodding approvingly.

  My thoughts were on the approaching night.

  I was in, as the rumors liked to say, for the fuck of my life.

  All the way to his room, Egara didn’t look me in the face. Instead, he took a great deal of interest in my breasts that pressed against the sheer fabric of my dress. My dark nipples were visible to anyone who liked to look.

  And many eyes did like to look as we wound down those endless hallways.

  The guards, as always, followed on our heels, shock rifles clasped tightly to their chests. I wondered if they ever looked at the girls in the Prize Pool and wanted a little taste.

  I doubted it. Not once had I seen them glance in our direction or get distracted by a girl.

  Shame, I thought. I always liked a man in uniform.

  Even if he wasn’t a man. And even if the uniform did consist of thick plates of metal over a hard exoskeleton of technology I could barely even fathom.

  As a historian, it was fascinating to see the evolution of advanced weaponry and armor. They moved in obvious and predictable lines. Anyone who had seen a suit of armor couldn’t help but recognize the armor these futuristic guards wore.

  The material might be stronger, might have technology stitched into its every atom, but it still performed the same function as medieval plate mail.

  I ran a hand over my dress, my palms growing sweaty. My mind always wandered when I became nervous.

  We came to a stop outside a cell door that looked identical to the hundreds of others we’d passed on our way here. I wondered about the countless lives and stories the prisoners had to tell. I wondered—

  Stop! Focus!

  I waited for Egara to motion for me to enter his cell but he didn’t. He only stood and watched me. I stepped inside first and found the cell to have the appearance I expected.

  Cold, sterile, rough, with scuff marks along the walls. There was no private bathroom and no other amenities. The bed was barely big enough for a monster of his size and no art or personal items hung on the wall
s.

  That, at least, was a bit of a surprise.

  Most of the prisoners liked to have something to remind them of home or the past life they once occupied. This cell had nothing at all that identified it as belonging to Egara. It could have belonged to any number of prisoners.

  I liked to scan their possessions and get an idea of who I was dealing with, talking points I could distract them with.

  But he had none.

  I stopped in the middle of the cell and turned to face my host. He had to turn sideways and squat slightly to fit through the doorway.

  The cell door hissed shut and we were alone.

  We stood facing each other for a moment, that same awkwardness passing between us like the river Nile. We both knew what we were there to do.

  It was only a matter of time before he took me. Would it be right away or would he prefer a little conversation first?

  I was his to do with as he pleased. Nothing would happen that he didn’t have complete control over.

  The silence seized my tongue the way it always did in this situation. My mind was full of interesting pieces of information on centuries of human history and general details about the culture of dozens of others, but I hadn’t been brought to this cell, or any of the others, for engaging conversation.

  “Would you like me to sit?” I said, motioning to the bed.

  The monster called Egara peered at me—and when I say me, I really meant my breasts—and didn’t say a word.

  He stepped toward me and raised a hand to touch me.

  I shut my eyes and turned my face to one side.

  Jackhammer. He’s a jackhammer.

  “When he claims you, you’re in for the fuck of your life.”

  I tried to shut out Harper’s warning and the circulating rumors the girls whispered about Egara over the past few months.

  His thick fingers ran over the pendant that clasped my dress together at the shoulder. His black nail caught on it and made a soft tink noise.

  Egara unfastened the pendant with surprising dexterity and my dress slid from my body to the ground.

  He would ravage me, the way he had the other girls, I thought.

  I felt the thin vial of lubrication in my hand. I would have to use it secretly. Sometimes inmates were suspicious of tools girls brought into their cells as if we were deliberately trying to sabotage them or our lovemaking.

  The way to make them relax was simple. We parroted Harper’s line: “You’re so big I have to use it to make sure you fit inside me.” That always made them feel good about themselves. They allowed us to use it after that.

  Nothing worked better than soothing a monster’s ego.

  Egara held my pendant in his hand. It seemed to hold more interest for him than my naked body.

  He moved around me, bent down, and pulled out a plastic container from under the bed. Inside it was some kind of flimsy-looking device. It consisted of a long metal pole with about a dozen cylinders arranged around each side.

  He snapped my pendant in half with his powerful hands, then snapped each of those pieces in half, and again, until he had enough pieces to slide into the cylinders.

  And there I stood, stark naked save for my high heels. I peered at an invisible audience and shrugged my shoulders.

  Now what?

  I shivered from the cold. The sheer fabric of my dress might not have seemed like much but it did an admirable job of keeping out the cold.

  The guy was more interested in his stupid machine than he was in me!

  I wanted to shout at him. “Hey! I’m right here!”

  But did I really want to distract him from his little device? It gave me time to relax, and that was rare enough when I was in another creature’s cell. I scooped up my dress and slipped it on over my head. I tied the two ends of the shoulder strap together into a knot to do the job the pendant had once done.

  I sat on the bed. There was little else I could do. I got comfortable. I felt relieved and yet a little disappointed he wasn’t more interested in me. It was a slap in the face after he’d had such a wild time with the other Prizes.

  Was there something wrong with me? I wondered. Maybe the stories about him were exaggerated. Maybe he only went crazy with non-human species.

  Except, Harper had shared similar stories to the others. He’d liked Harper, so why didn’t he like me?

  It must be me he didn’t like, I realized.

  I looked my body over.

  I wasn’t in bad shape, I thought. I didn’t get to eat healthy food or work out in a gym as much as I liked but I couldn’t help that.

  I decided to make conversation.

  “So, uh, what are you working on there?” I said.

  He started, which only added coal to the fire of my contempt for him. He’d forgotten I was even there!

  “A little project I’m working on,” he said, turning the cylinders so they faced a slightly different direction.

  “What’s its purpose?” I said.

  He looked over at me—at my face and not my body. Only then did it occur to me that earlier, he hadn’t been admiring my swollen breasts, he’d been infatuated with my broach!

  “I can’t tell you that,” he said secretively. “I’m not even sure it’ll work.”

  I appraised the machine and couldn’t even begin to figure out what it was meant for. My expertise was in the domain of the past, not this futuristic technology.

  “Have you been here a long time?” I said.

  “Six months. You?”

  “A year.”

  He nodded but didn’t give any indication he wanted to continue the conversation.

  “Where are you from?” I said. “Which species are you?”

  “Originally, planet Vulcar. I’m a Vulcarian.”

  Vulcarian… Vulcarian… Hadn’t I heard something about that species before? I could swear one of the girls—or one of the other prisoners—had said something about it…

  “What are Vulcarians famous for?” I said.

  If it was one thing I had learned about alien species, it was that they were all proud of the fact their species was uniquely gifted at one enterprise or another.

  “Raiding and pillaging, mostly,” Egara said.

  Raiding and pillaging! That was it!

  The Vulcarians were the intergalactic equivalent of pirates. I heard about them from both prisoners and Prizes because they were a constant pest to their civilizations. It was hard enough to develop an empire with multiple colonies without having pirates hijack your merchandise every time you turned around.

  Still, it annoyed me he was paying more attention to his device than to me. I felt the vial of lubricant in my hand and suddenly, the warnings from the other Prizes became a well of curiosity.

  What made him so good in bed and the other prisoners poor by comparison? I wondered. They weren’t bad bedmates but what made Egara so much better?

  Curiosity got the better of me and I had an idea.

  Was I seriously thinking about doing this? I thought. Was I seriously going to provoke Egara into action?

  I gnawed my bottom lip and decided that yes, I would. I was too curious about what made him such a great lover.

  I laid back on the bed and placed my feet on the bedspread. I eased my feet apart so my pussy was on full show, not more than a few feet from him on the floor.

  I popped the lid on the vial, slid a finger into it, lowered my hand to my slit, and ran my finger inside, rubbing at myself the way I liked.

  He was going to fuck me later anyway, so why not warm up and prepare myself for the festivities?

  It was an endless source of fascination for my classmates at college that I could be such a nerdy bookworm at school and such a party-going slut in the evenings.

  I never understood their way of thinking. Those who most needed respite from work were the ones who worked the hardest.

  I groaned breathily as I stroked myself. My nipples followed suit and turned pert and hard.

  Egara g
lanced up at me before turning back to his beloved machine. He paused and looked up at me again.

  This time, I had his attention.

  I squeezed my breasts, pinching my nipples as my fingers worked their magic, making me warmer and wetter each time I dived deep.

  I opened my eyes and looked over at him.

  Daring him.

  Challenging him.

  His eyes roamed from my soft loins, up my body, to my hand clasped firmly around my breast.

  His nostrils flattened, turning broad. He snorted. His eyes turned waxen and misty and shoved the plastic box under the bed with a violent kick. He pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it to the floor.

  He unzipped his fly and let his shorts fall. He didn’t kick them off.

  I peered at his large cock standing proud. Big, but not the biggest I had seen. It was his staying power that was legendary, not his size, I reminded myself.

  I dipped my fingers into the vial again and added the lubrication to my pussy.

  He grabbed my hips and pulled me toward the side of the bed. There was no warmup, no teasing, as he slammed his bulging cock deep inside me.

  I gasped and let out a slow breath.

  He peered down at me as he moved his hips back and forth. I rubbed my clit before thinking better of it. I was wet enough for him to do what he wanted with me.

  What I needed from him.

  My breasts bounced as he fucked me hard, making me slide backward. I braced myself on the wall.

  Jackhammer indeed.

  He went for me hard, and when I thought it was about time for him to slow down and shift to a lower gear the way most lovers did, he didn’t.

  He just kept on going, pummeling me and taking me deeper and deeper. I wondered how he could keep going, how he could keep slamming me without growing overexcited.

 

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