Venomous: Erotic Science Fiction Romance (Alien Warrior Book 1) (59 page)

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Authors: Penelope Fletcher

Tags: #science fiction romance, #alien warrior, #sci fi romance, #alien abduction, #erotic alien romance, #alien romance

BOOK: Venomous: Erotic Science Fiction Romance (Alien Warrior Book 1)
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Beowyn threw his arms open and grinned. “Small one!”

“Hello,” I laughed then my eyes snagged on the up-tilted, angry-looking erection bobbing between his thickset thighs. I slapped a hand over my eyes. “Wyn! Where the hell are your pants?”

“I cannot recall.” Amused by my refusal to look at him, he grabbed my hands and pulled them off my face. “‘Tis only a cock.”

“Sit.” I tugged on his arm until he flopped down next to me, chortling. “Are you drunk?”

He blew a raspberry, rolled onto his stomach then wriggled on the divan knocking the cushions off. “Nay.”

I eyed his flushed cheeks and glazed eyes. “I feel like you’re not being honest with me.”

Grinning, cheeky, his legs flopped off the divan edge, and tanned bare buttocks dusted in golden hair flexed as his big feet hit the floor.

I laughed. “And where are your boots?”

Éorik popped his head into the pod then huffed. “There you are.” He stepped into the room with an unlaced pair of breeches draped over his arm, a pair of boots in his hand. “I am sorry, my Lady. He brought you a bottle of rare Aztekian wine as a gift, but after learning the Rä serve no ale, he drank the whole thing.”

He made a feeble gesture towards his liege.

“It’s okay. He can sleep it off in here.” I stroked Beowyn’s mane from his face. He purred and burrowed into my side, rubbing his horns against my thigh. “Are you having a good time?”

He dropped his head onto my lap and grinned up at me. “Aye.” He brushed his fingerclaws to my jaw. “Are you happy?”

“More than I can say.”

The shiny mist receded from his catlike eyes as he focused on my face. “You will always have a place with me.”

Cobra rumbled a warning, but I held up a palm to shush him. I used the same hand to cup the Verak’s bearded cheek. “I won’t need it, but thank you.” I kissed his hand then held it in my own on his chest. “You and I are going to be friends, Beowyn.”

“Friends,” he repeated with a slow blink.

Éorik dropped down on my other side.

He relieved Cobra of my drinking bowl then took a deep glug. “The Great One does not have friends.” He licked his lips and made a pleased sound. “He has concubines, servants, vassals and allies, but no friends.”

“He does now.” I snatched the amrita from him with a sniff. Who knew when my mates would let me drink it again? I waved it under his nose. “Mine.”

Excited voices drifted from the main hall.

Intrigued, I looked a question at Éorik who’d just come from out there.

“Oh, nay,” he replied to my unasked query with a shake of his silver mane. “I shall not be the one to ruin the surprise.” He helped me onto my feet, smirking when Cobra glowered at what he considered his duty being usurped. “I will take you to your males.”

“And I shall escort all of you,” Beowyn declared brandishing an arm.

He lurched onto his feet, swayed, lunged a step then crashed into the wall, getting tangled in the tapestry.

He yelled and fought it as if it were alive, calling for his sword, and for his legions to, “
Rally to me
.”

“Ignore him,” Éorik muttered. “I do.”

A hand shot out from under the wall-hanging to point damningly. “
I heard that
.”

Heaving a long suffering sigh, the Commander handed me off to Cobra who was happy to scoop me up.

Freed from the drapery, Beowyn yanked on his breeches.

He wobbled from one leg to the other, and slapped at Éorik when the male tried to expedite his drunken fumbling.

The Verak King stomped into his knee-high boots then shouted a triumphant, “Ha,” as he thumbed his nose.

Using Éorik as a crutch, he hooked a beefy arm around my shoulders to plaster me onto his side.

He crowed his delight about my charming ceremony, and invited me to an upcoming carnival on Vayhalun as we tottered towards the festival hall struggling to keep him corralled.

Everything we passed grabbed his attention, and stirred him into raptures.

Accented drawl shaking the glister creep, Beowyn bellowed a vulgar ditty about a lusty, behorned wench, and dragged our motley foursome along in his rambunctious trail.

We careened through the hallways and bounced into furniture before stumbling into the celebration; me giggling, Beowyn attempting a partner dance with Éorik who unflinchingly refused to shuffle along, and, finally, a traumatized Cobra, who tried to sneak away, but couldn’t, because I had hold of his belt to keep myself upright.

I laughed so hard, I crossed my legs to alleviate the need to pee.

Watching us with a crooked smile, Venomous waited in the middle of the festooned enclosure.

He motioned me closer then said in a strident voice, “This is a ritual my Rä’Na has on her home world. As we have joined and created new life, I wish to honour her by sharing her traditions.”

Dumping Beowyn on his Commander, I hurried to my mate then clasped his outstretched hand.

Face exultant, Fiercely strode through the gathering of kindred clustered around us.

He held aloft a shiny that caught the light. “I have the rings.”

He did, indeed, have rings; six of them.

It hit me what they were doing, and a hand flew up to cover my mouth.

The engraved gold circles were more like bangles, but I beamed a smile from behind my fingers because it was the thought that counted, and the pieces were exquisite.

I whispered, “Who is the third set for?”

I understood why there would be four.

Two for me, given by each of them, and one for them, given by me.

“Your lesser mate, of course.” Fiercely held up the two most slender. “They are thinner and less decorative, but he is not your third life mate, only your lesser male, and the story of your union was not needed. Only his name is carved here.”

I swept a finger over the delicate curves and flicks of the glyphs. “Who wrote the stories?”

“I did.”


You
did these?”

The scales around his spiky ears and sharp cheekbones darkened. “I wanted it to be special.” His tone was defensive. “I am no Artisan, but I did my best.”

Pressing myself into his side, I tugged his head down to kiss his scowling mouth. “You did good, sweetheart. I love them almost as much as I love you.”

“You love Venomous One,” he countered as if it were set in stone.

“I do.” I held his gaze. “I also love Fiercely Comes the Night.”

Too overcome to speak, he rubbed his cheek to mine, arms holding me tightly as his body trembled.

Cobra that Strikes had not moved since it had been revealed he had an armlet too.

He stared at the rings. “Gold for me?”

“You are part of us now,” Venomous said, “For good or ill.”

“Don’t take the for ill part lightly,” I advised.

Chuckling, Venomous took the largest, most ornate of the rings from Fiercely.

The hammered, polished ore caught the glister creep glow.

Engraved with a lyrical account of our meeting, there was a brutal beauty to how it read.

Fiercely hadn’t glossed over the truth, nor had he downplayed the love that flourished amidst the hurt.

“I marriage you,” Venomous declared in a clear voice as he pushed the cold metal onto my upper arm.

“I marriage you too,” Fiercely blurted as if at risk of being left behind.

He slid his gold onto my other arm.

His band wasn’t as thick, nor the narrative he’d written as poignant, but there was a compelling purity underlying the account that moved me.

“I like this custom much,” he announced with a stare that radiated masculine satisfaction.

“As do I.” Venomous ran a claw down my arm. “It is a softer, but no less powerful claiming.”

They turned to Cobra who took a step back then took three closer.

Hands shaking, he gently lifted the arm bearing Fiercely’s gold to add his own below it.

His gaze met mine and shone with a powerful devotion then he bowed his head. “I do not know the words for the lesser male.”

I thought about it, not wanting to embarrass him by saying there were none.

“Neither do I. What a pair we make.” I smiled, happy he was with us, then slid my gold onto his forearm. I turned to Fiercely and curled my finger. “Come here you.”

His was one of the last two armbands in the form of an adjustable cuff, as no way was a solid circle sliding over his bulging muscles. “I marriage you too, sweetheart.”

Taking the last cuff from him, a magnificent piece with remarkable attention to detail on the etchings, I faced Venomous.

At once, my eyes watered and my chin wobbled. “You remembered. You did this.”

His big body curled around mine, and he cupped my face between his rough palms. “You try hard to please me. I could do no less.”

I slipped the ring into place then kissed it.

Four arms wrapped around me tight, and claws stroked down my back. “My Lumen.”

I snuggled into the male holding me close to his hearts. Happy tears streaked my cheeks as our hatchling quickened between us. “I marriage you too, babe.”

Naked as the day he was born, Beowyn staggered to us, arms outstretched for a hug.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he dropped.

His laurel horn cracked the floor, saving his noggin, as he passed out cold.

Éorik strolled up, nudged him with the rounded toe of his boot.

He jerked a shoulder. “’Tis fine.”

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

I
dyllic didn’t come close to the following cycles.

I luxuriated in the attentions of my mates.

In what seemed overnight, I passed into the second moontide of my pregnancy, and grew plump.

One moon, Nāga showed us a hologram of our hatchling.

It was so freaking teensy, curled up, sucking its thumb, its wee spiky ears twitching as its gushing
thwomp-thwomp
heartbeat filled the room, the most beautiful sound I’d heard.

Venomous and Fiercely were boisterous in their delight.

Swaggering about with their chests puffed up, exclaiming how it was going to be a strong a’Rä, grinning ear to ear.

When Nāga advised the hatchling had a sex, they’d looked so aghast, I’d laughed myself sick.

No, seriously, I puked over the rug.

My morning sickness had been hellish, and I’d been getting booster shots because I couldn’t keep enough down, so as to be healthy.

The unsettled stomach didn’t stop me from consuming everything edible in sight though.

Overcoming their shock, Venomous and Fiercely spent the rest of the appointment assuring me what grew inside me was the second most precious thing to them, after me.

Which made me cry because I was hormonal, and it was said with such blunt sincerity.

On the rotations my Rä’Veks didn’t leave me to potter around the lair, we toured the province on the goodbeasts, and took lazy meals at high heat in the scenic, rural areas outside the city proper.

My favourite spot was a secluded vale with a waterfall that flowed into a rocky pool just deep enough for me to stand in.

The foliage was abundant, but less savage than typical, giving its uncultivated nature a wild, yet embracing feel.

Powder fine, green sand dunes rolled on a gentle slope towards the quartz city then on to shadowy mountains that held up an endless horizon.

Dawning Light offhandedly noted it was land for sale, and would make a lovely, rustic lair for raising hatchlings.

I’d glanced at my mates in longing, but Fiercely had looked dubious, Venomous uninterested.

Wind Dancer and his nest mate joined us several times on our excursions, attentive in what they saw as their duty to help me acclimatise, and were delighted by my eagerness for the indigenous cuisine.

Thanks to my accelerated pregnancy, I had a big appetite, so set upon the widowed Rä’Veks’ efforts with relish.

They always brought a delicious spread, which made my mates happy, as I wasn’t the best cook.

I still wouldn’t let Sylphs into the lair, and took it upon myself to do the domestic chores, much to their consternation.

Most of the dishes were far too sour or spicy for my palate.

I enjoyed food eaten by hatchlings, like creamy fermented goodbeast mylk flecked with sweet kakt-mi, tangy cheeses infused with tenderised, salted meat, and fruits sautéed in amrita nectar until they melted on the tongue.

Blitzed vegetable paste that reminded me of guacamole texture wise, but was yellow, and tasted like roasted, caramelised parsnips was a savoury favourite.

I gobbled it using fresh, pan fried bread to scoop it from the bowl.

Mischievous, Venomous once tried to steal some from me when my back was turned, but my sixth sense pinged, and I spun brandishing a knife, seriously considering cutting the fool for even considering it.

“Don’t muck about,” I warned as he fell back laughing.

Cobra that Strikes came along to these outings, but there was always a reason his Rä’Na skipped attendance.

It was no skin off my nose.

The Rä’Na avoided the intimate get-togethers because she knew I would betray how much she disgusted me.

Other than that one cloud, my life was perfect.

I was nervous about the hatchling, flipping out when I felt it move for the first time.

I gave my mates heart palpitations when I screamed the lair down then demanded they feel up my belly, but mostly I laughed, sang, experienced the day to day joys of living well, and got rode hard and put up wet by lusty males who couldn’t keep their hands and mouths off me.

“A man would not partake in clutch like a Rä’Vek,” Venomous stated apropos to nothing one sweltering morning as we lounged in the garden.

It was his turn to stay home with me as Fiercely went to the guild.

“Yes, he would. Just in other ways too.”

Sprawled on the blue grass playing with a three dimensional puzzle, he abandoned it to roll onto his back, closer to me. “Other ways?”

“Different positions. Kink. Fetishes.”

“Explain.”

“Anal and oral are popular kink,” I replied distracted half by the Zýt’s fascination with my hair, and half by the hologram soap opera Fiercely had shown me how to download from the matrix, which was television, the internet, the telephone, email and radio rolled into one console.

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