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I am coming. Hard. I am writhing and I am begging and pleasure is flooding my body, overwhelming every bit of my… oh my god. Oh my fucking god. Something else is happening too. Another feeling. A dark sensation of dread is rising through me, mixing with the pleasure so much that at first I don’t know what the hell is happening. It has been far too long since I felt this sensation. It makes my fingers and toes tingle, makes my breath come shorter and faster, narrows my vision and makes me hyper-aware of every bit of my body.
Fear.
I cannot be afraid.
And yet I am.
I am terrified, and yet I am caught in the flow of intense pleasure that must be overloading my mind and somehow interfering with the function of the implant. Fear makes the hotness hotter. Fear makes the pleasure more pleasurable. Fear makes me scream out, grabbing this massive alien beast as if my very life and sanity depended on it.
I need him. I need him to finish this incredible, terrible, perfect experience. I am on a roller-coaster, shrieking and wailing and grinding my soaked pussy on his massive alien cock, my lips distended around his glistening wet scales
“Yes,” he snarls down at me. “Take this, human. Take this cock of mine deep inside you. You thought you could steal from me? Nobody steals from me. Nobody crosses me. I am the alpha of this territory. I am the law. I am life and I am death and you are a trespasser who has earned my ire.”
I don’t know if he means his words to be so unspeakably arousing, but with every threat I feel the little thrills spiking through my body, making the intensity and proximity of orgasm spike too.
I come on his cock with a force like I never knew was possible. I feel him deep inside me, the head of his alien rod pulsing as his seed enters my body, his essence flooding me, causing all manner of reactions deep inside my pussy. I can feel the chemistry of our bonding, his fluids meeting mine. I look up and see that my hands are gripping his scaled arms as if my life itself depends on him. I look up into his eyes and I see no mercy there. I see perfect possession. He is looking at me as if he owns me, every bit of me, as if some unspoken, biological contract has been signed in his seed.
The orgasm wanes, as does that strange tinge of fear that came with it. I am covered in sweat. My limbs are trembling. My breath is coming in short little gasps that slowly start to draw deeper and come slower as the absolute cacophony of sensation starts to abate.
He pulls free of me, and I feel my lips gripping every sliding inch of him as he takes his leave of my body, somehow taking something of me with him. He slumps down against the side of the bar, taking me with him. I am pulled against his chest in an unexpected embrace, though I think it is more of a possessive clench. He looks tired. His eyes are half-closed, the thick, long mane of his hair spread out half on the floor, half-over his muscular shoulder. His chest rises and falls slowly.
I lie there with him, recovering from what I could not begin to call lovemaking. That was not lovemaking. That was rutting. That was mating. That was claiming. I think I will feel him inside me for a very, very long time. Maybe forever.
It is tempting to fall asleep with him. I could curl up beside his big frame and be soft for a moment, allow myself to experience the sheltering sensation of being in the presence of a bigger, stronger, more powerful male. I could surrender and let him take me captive in any way he chooses.
But as my mind settles, and my true nature begins to reassert herself, I know what I have to do. He might have held me down and fucked me until my brain malfunctioned, but I am still Sullivan O’Shannassay. I am still the most infamous female pirate of the Pleiades. And I will not be brought to anything resembling justice through even the most intense carnal experience.
I force myself to slip out of his embrace, missing his heat almost immediately. He grunts softly, still absolutely passed out. I wonder if it might have been a long time since he came that way. There’s something about his reaction that makes me think he has not fucked a female in a very long time. I wonder how that is, that an alpha with his looks, stature, and clear virility has not found a mate.
There’s no time to waste figuring out his life story, though. I have a bike to steal.
3HELLO, PRIMAL
Thorn
I hear the engine of my cruiser fire, the throttle wide open as the wheels grip the rough road. The roar of my beast is one I’d know anywhere — though usually I’d be hearing it from astride the machine.
I realize in that instant I let myself succumb to post-orgasmic tiredness, and that the human has taken full advantage of my only moment of weakness. As much as I thought I had punished and subdued her, she had not submitted one little bit. She took the pleasure I gave her, came like a woman possessed, and now she is stealing my prized possession.
Leaping to my feet and rushing to the door, I see reflected light glinting off the light tints in the human’s curling hair as she speeds into the distance.
Fury rushes through me, but to my surprise, it is a laugh, not a growl that escapes my lips. I will hunt this little human down, and I will bring her to rough and painful justice. My cock will fill each and every one of her impudent human holes. I will make her scream. I will make her beg. I will make hersorry.
* * *
The bike has a tracker on it, of course. It has never been activated before because nobody has ever been reckless and stupid enough to take it. Unfortunately, the tracker is absolutely no good to me in a situation like this. I’m going to have to call this in. And that makes me even less impressed with the incredibly reckless human who has no idea what kind of wrath she just brought down on herself.
I may be without my bike, but I am not without resources. I initiate my mobile communicator and activate the first code on the list.
It takes a long moment before the call is answered, and when it is, I hear a muffled shriek in the background.
“Avel?”
“Here, Thorn.” His voice comes on, gruff and close, and if I am not mistaken, annoyed. Not at me, but at someone or something else.
“Can you bring a contingent out here to the Ground Bar?”
He grunts and I hear the sound of leather snapping in the background, followed by a small, short cry. I’ve interrupted him.
