Bonded to the Alien Lord: Sci-fi Alien Invasion Romance (Warriors of the Lathar Book 3) (3 page)

He didn’t reply, looking away without acknowledging her thanks. She didn’t argue because a commotion behind them caught their attention. The group turned to find Jane Allen stalking toward them with Karryl dogging her steps.

“You were injured, female. You should be resting, not running around the ship risking further injury.” Frustration obvious in his voice, the big warrior danced around Jane, trying to get her to stop so he could lift her in his arms. His strange half-scuttle and scoop with his arms spread wide made Cat chuckle, a sound she quickly smothered as the soap opera in front of them unfolded.

“I'm all right
,”
Jane hissed, her gaze focused on the group by the transport as though Karryl were nothing to do with her. “How am I going to come to harm on a ship this well armed?”

Somehow, she’d managed to avoid the robes and cape combo the rest of them had and wore leather pants a la Latharian warrior and a singlet vest. Her dog tags bounced against her chest as she walked. She’d even managed to keep her boots, which somehow fit with her mishmash ensemble. All in all, the Marine looked badass. A fact that didn’t escape the attention of the two other warriors with the group, who sucked quick breaths in at the sight of the human woman.

She, however, wasn’t paying any attention to their little group, mainly because at that moment Karryl had decided enough was enough and tried to scoop her up over his shoulder. The women, knowing what was coming, winced.

He’d no sooner got his hands around Jane’s trim waist when she turned the tables on him. Grabbing his arm, she twisted and turned in a quick movement that dumped the big warrior on the floor. To add insult to injury, she dropped and pinned one arm with a knee, jamming her other booted foot right in his throat.

“Don’t you ever try that again, sunshine,” she warned, her voice cold and level. “You lot might have all these young women atwitter with the muscles and the charm… But I’m older, wiser and with a shitload more experience under my belt of dealing with pretty boy soldiers like you.”

Cat leaned in to whisper in Tarrick’s ear. “She likes him.”

His eyes widened. “She does? How can you tell?”

She hid her smile. “She hasn’t killed him yet.”

Jane rolled away, and Karryl scrambled to his feet. Glaring around, he spotted Laarn. “Healer, do something about this defective female! Make her understand what an honor it is to be chosen by a warrior of my standing.”

Jane snorted, boot stomping on the deck she joined them. “Stow it, big boy. Humans don’t consider it an ‘honor’ when a guy wants to stick his dick in her. You’ve got a hand, I suggest you put it to use if that’s all you’re interested in.”

The women dissolved into giggles quickly smothered when Karryl glared at them.

Tarrick sighed. “Children! If you’re finished, the Emperor awaits.”

***

As Cat expected, the yacht was utilitarian, set up more for combat than luxury. The metal of the bulkheads in the corridors they passed was unadorned, and at no point on their journey through the ship did she see carpeting covering the deck plates. The design was simple, with barracks and other rooms off the central corridor. At one end was the “bridge,” little more than a fancy cockpit, and at the other was a large common room.

All the rooms had their own facilities, though, for which she was thankful. She didn’t fancy wandering the central corridor at night trying to find a toilet. Not that she thought any of the warriors aboard would even look at her sideways, but a girl liked her privacy, especially when bed head was an option.

Voices rose in the corridor behind them as Laarn assigned rooms. None of the warriors were bunked with a human woman, a fact Karryl argued intensely about. From what Cat could gather, Karryl thought his claim over Jane was a done deal, and her consent a mere formality. Meanwhile, Jane was simply ignoring the big warrior. Tarrick led Cat up a flight of stairs tucked in a corner. Cat hid her smirk and followed Tarrick.

The flight of stairs led to a secondary deck. Smaller than the main one, it was one room, with a large bed set in the middle of the wall under a sloping picture window. Clearly designed so the occupant could gaze at the stars. There were two doors in the wall opposite. She raised her eyebrow at Tarrick in question.

“Washroom and storage,” he replied quickly. Absently.

His attention was all on her, steady gold gaze unwavering. It was impossible to look away, and her heart rate increased as the gold became darker, more heated.

She knew that expression. Her body knew it well.

“Tarrick, we don’t have time.”

“Nonsense. There’s plenty of time... Or did you forget, I give the orders around here.”

She backed as he stalked her, somehow managing to get himself between the door to the stairs and her. Not that it mattered, if she ran it wouldn’t be very far. He’d catch her in the corridor below, where she knew he’d take her anyway, regardless of whom watched.

“Around here… Yes. But have you forgotten about the Emperor?”

He shrugged and continued to stalk her. “Laarn will get us underway.”

There was no arguing with that, so she didn’t bother, her lips curving into a smile as he reached her. Snagging a hand around her waist, he pulled her against his hard, muscled body and claimed her lips.

She melted, her knees weak as he swept his tongue past her lips to plunder her mouth. His tongue found hers, sliding against it in sensual strokes that took her breath away. The small whimper in the back of her throat was purely instinctive and she drove her hands into his short hair to hold him to her.

His kiss turned hard, frenzied, and she broke away to gasp. That didn’t stop him, his lips blazing a trail down the length of her throat. Held in his iron embrace, she couldn’t escape. Didn’t want to escape. Ever.

Strong fingers shoved the cape from her shoulders, the fabric pooling at her feet. She shivered as the cooler air of the room hit her bare shoulders. The dichotomy of the chill and the heat from his body drove her crazy. She moved closer, her hips urgent against his as the fever in her blood grew. Need became all encompassing and she tore at the zipper at the front of his uniform. Anything to get to the smooth, silken skin over his hard, muscled chest. A chest and a body she would never tire of exploring.

“Fuck…you’re hot. So sexy,” he muttered and claimed her lips with open-mouthed, hard kisses. His hands tangled in the straps of her dress, yanking them down with a twist that unraveled the alien design of the garment. It slithered down her body, leaving her naked apart from the heeled sandals he’d had her wear this morning.

He gripped her shoulders, putting some space between them. His eyes burned with passion. He didn’t speak. Instead, his face tightened, hardened until his features became almost cruel.

She squeaked as he spun her around with a quick movement and pushed her toward the bed. The push and the unaccustomed heels made her stumble, and she half fell across the soft surface. As she got to her knees, he wrapped his sash around her wrists with a lightning fast movement. Securing them to the bedpost at the foot of the bed, he pulled the fabric tight until she bent at the waist. Hard fingers dug into the sides of her hips, pulling her ass up even as a large, booted foot kicked her feet apart.

“Tarrick! Slow down!” Her exclamation devolved into a small moan when he swept a finger through her already wet folds. Shit, that felt too good.

“As you pointed out, the Emperor is waiting,” he rumbled, rough voice carrying a trace of amusement as she lifted her ass for more of his attentions. Bastard. He knew he only had to touch her for her to go up in flames. “So, this’ll have to be quick.”

The broad tip of his finger collected the slick juice of her arousal and rubbed it over her clit. She whimpered, biting her lower lip to stop from crying out as he worked her body. Rubbed over and around the little nubbin of flesh, then, when she was least expecting it, gave her a little spank. There. Right there. On her clit.

“Yeo
ooohhh!”
she moaned, the soft tap intensifying her pleasure in a way she hadn’t expected. No time to reflect though, because he started to rub again. Teasing and caressing her clit, adding the short little taps that didn’t hurt, exactly, but soon had her arching back against him. She needed him to fill her… cock, fingers, anything. Just now. Sooner.

He didn’t. Instead, he drove her to the edges of her endurance, rubbing and teasing until her hips rocked and the moans that rolled from her lips merged into one soft sound of need. It didn’t take long, her orgasm rushing up faster than it ever had and then she was there, balanced on the precipice.

And he moved his hands.

“No!” She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her. So close. She needed him to touch her, stroke more. Take her over the edge and into the rolling abyss of pleasure that awaited when she fell.

He grunted, moving behind her, and then her attention was all on the broad head of his cock where it pressed against her. Not for long. Adjusting himself, he pushed his long, thick length into her in a single, hard stroke.

“Fuck!” she gasped, fingers curled into claws with pleasure. He was big, so big, but she loved the feeling of being stretched. The throb of her pussy around his cock. The friction the tight fit afforded. Even the burning pleasure-pain when he first entered her.

“That was the idea. Or did you have something else in mind?” As he spoke, he pulled back and thrust again, drawing out the tight, burning ecstasy of his initial penetration. She was back to biting her lip, trying to contain her sounds of pleasure.

With her bent over in front of him, he set up a hard and fast pace, slamming into her over and over. She couldn’t move, but she didn’t care. Her body was a mass of hypersensitive nerve endings all attuned to his every movement. Tightness coiled within her, drawing into a tight knot in her core.

Reaching around her, one large hand covered her left breast, tweaking and pinching the nipple. A line of fire arrowed down to her clit, making it throb, as though it and her nipple were connected. She panted, shoving her ass back against him with each thrust. That was it. Wouldn’t take her much longer. Just a little more.

He reached around with the other hand, sliding it between her thighs and tweaked her clit.

It was all she needed.

She shattered, screaming his name as she came.

Chapter Three

When Cat and Tarrick rejoined the rest aboard the vessel, they were well underway and everyone was gathered in the common area at the back of the ship. All eyes turned toward them as the door opened, and Cat ducked her head, cheeks flaming at the knowing looks the women shot them. The warriors were either clueless or far too worried about Tarrick’s reaction to bat an eyelid.

They wore leather uniforms, but with the jackets unzipped to show their hard, sculptured chests. When they’d left their quarters, she’d thought Tarrick was just lazy. Now though, she realized it was more than that. The half-undressed deal seemed to be more akin to casual dress for them.

“Ey, ey…the lovebirds return,” Kenna smirked as Cat slid into the seat next to Jess, which earned her a play cuff around the ear from Jane behind her. She ducked, laughed, and stuck her tongue in her cheek while hollowing the other in the universal gesture for a blowjob.

“There’s always one.” Cat sighed, shaking her head at the woman’s antics and took the glass Jess held out to her. “What’s this?”

“Tastes like lemonade,” Jane answered, lifting her glass in salute. “Just be careful and go slow. It’s got quite the kick, as you can see.” She nodded toward Kenna, who bristled with indignation. “I am not drunk!”

Her denial fell on deaf ears because right at that moment Laarn chose to remove his jacket. Instantly he had the attention of every woman in the room. Like Tarrick, he was tall, broad-shouldered and heavily-muscled. Unlike Tarrick, he had shoulder length dark hair that brushed his shoulders.

And scars.

Everywhere.

They crisscrossed his pecs and over his arms. Fine scars like lace over his skin, old and faded, but that still looked painful. Farther down, deeper marks highlighted his rib cage, also healed and old. A single, thick scar ran down the center of his chest, reminiscent of old style open-heart surgery back on earth. It trailed down, disappearing under the low cut pants.

“Fucking
hell
…” Kenna murmured what they were all thinking. How much had he suffered? And why?

Unable to tear her eyes away as Laarn folded his jacket and turned to a kitchenette in the corner of the room, Cat leaned toward Tarrick, seated next to her. “What happened to him?”

Tarrick leaned against the padded back of the seat, arm spread behind her. “All healers have them. From their trials.”

She looked at him, not bothering to hide her shock. “I thought you said it was holo-stuff…simulation? That he wasn’t actually hurt?”

“No, he wasn’t. But the injuries were real to the mind, which caused a reaction in the body.” Tarrick’s expression was neutral. “It’s why we never use lifelike avatars. It’s the same technology. If we used something that felt too right, too similar to our real bodies and the machine ‘dies’ we’d die too.”

The shudder rolled from her toes, raced up her spine, and crawled over her scalp. “So becoming a healer could have killed him?”

Tarrick’s expression was blank and polite, but Cat was quickly coming to realize the Lathar put up a mask when they wanted to hide something, much like humans. She stayed silent and kept eye contact, a trick she’d learned years before. Most people felt uncomfortable and automatically filled the silence. A quick flare of lighter gold in his eyes told her that he knew what she was doing, but finally he gave a small nod of his head.

Not to be outdone by Laarn, Karryl started to strip his own jacket. Like the rest of the Lathar, he was tall and heavily muscled but…bigger. He made Laarn and Tarrick seem like greyhounds in comparison. Kenna, well through her glass of the alien lemonade, wolf-whistled in approval as the warrior strutted his stuff, eyes on Jane.