Alien Commander's Mate Read online

  But this was about her, not him. He put the thoughts from his mind and pressed his thumb against her clit. Worked her sweet pussy, pumping with one, then two fingers as he pressed against her clit with his thumb.

  She gasped and moaned, little body writhing against his, until… finally… she broke away from his kiss. Her scream of pleasure was sharp and filled him with savage male triumph as she came hard over his fingers.

  She was his. He’d brought her pleasure and when they got back… he was making her his.

  * * *

  Barbarian alien warriors were actually excessively polite.

  Amanda stood at Fenriis’ side, surrounded by the rest of his warriors as they waited for the human shuttle to arrive. They were all huge, tall and well-muscled like Fenriis, but, as she’d discovered, unfailingly polite and courteous when it came to her. Each of them had greeted her with a small smile and nod when Fenriis had introduced them and then arranged themselves in an arc around her and the tall warrior with his arm looped loosely around her waist.

  She snuck a glance up at him from under her lashes. Her body still hummed from the mind-blowing orgasm he’d treated her to, her legs weak at the memory.

  He’d held her right there in front of the bed in a protective embrace, his hands stroking her beneath the skirts of her dress. Her cheeks flushed with heat. The same dress she wore now. All he’d done was smooth her skirts down and, when her breathing had returned to something near normal, had led her from his rooms and through the ship to the shuttle bay.

  Through it all, he hadn’t said a thing but, when he caught her looking up at him, he winked slightly, his dark eyes full of promise and heat. The blush intensified. How could he do that to her with just a look?

  She looked away, studying their surroundings as she tried to compose herself. There was a contingent of warriors around them, all in leather and heavily armed, which seemed to be the norm for Latharians, even aboard the safety of their own ship. Most of them had their attention on the large bay doors ahead of them, but one of them was looking her way.

  She caught his eye and instantly looked away. It was the dead-eyed warrior who’d looked at her in the corridor. His nearly black gaze reminded her of a shark. She shivered and moved closer to Fenriis. Perhaps it was just because most of the Lathar hadn’t seen a woman for years, but that one gave her the heebie-jeebies.

  Fenriis smiled down at her as she moved closer, his arm tightening around her waist. His touch on her lower back was both comforting and possessive. This time her shiver was one of pleasure as the gentle stroke of his fingers reminded her of their little tryst in his rooms. Although he’d said he would give her time, she wasn’t naive. The darkness and heat in his eyes said that time was running out fast.

  It couldn’t run out fast enough for her…

  “They’re on final approach now,” Danaar announced, his attention on the device strapped to his wrist. From what she could see it was some kind of uplink to the ship's computer system built into a wrist bracer.

  Sure enough, almost before he’d finished speaking, the warning lights at the end of the bay lit up and the heavy door started to open up. She sucked a quick breath in, the instinctive fear at having nothing between them and cold, hard space almost getting the better of her.

  “There’s an adaptive force field in place,” Fenriis muttered, his voice low so only she could hear. “See that slight shimmer? It’ll allow the shuttle in, but nothing out. Like the air we’re breathing.”

  She nodded, focusing on the ever-expanding gap as the large metal door rose. Sure enough, there was a slight ripple in the air and an iridescent sheen that reminded her of a butterfly's wing. Relief filled her and she let go of the breath she’d been holding. Her fingers uncurled from the death-grip she’d had on the back of Fenriis’ jacket.

  The door was fully open now and for a moment she gazed out into space in awe. She’d never been into space. Not even to any of the colonies. In fact the nearest she’d ever gotten to space was the pictures Jess had sent back from her postings.

  Now though she was treated to a front row view of the Terran shuttle as it rounded the side of the Latharian ship's hull. She almost winced at the sight of the blocky little ship as it chugged toward the open doors. Even though she knew it was state of the art—there had been wall-to-wall coverage in the media when the new Terran fleet had launched earlier in the year—it looked like a child’s toy next to the sleek lethality of the alien vessel.

  The slight shuffling of the warriors around her, while restrained, said the Lathar around her were getting bored waiting for the Terran shuttle to reach its destination. She could understand that. She was ready for it to land already, her nerves on a knife edge.

  Finally, it made it through the bay doors, the force field parting to create an airtight seal. The roaring sound of its engines almost deafened them as it slowly lowered itself to the deck.

  “No noise suppressors,” Danaar had to shout over the noise, and she covered her ears until the shuttle powered down.

  The door on the side opened, lifting up slowly to reveal a squad of marines. While armed, their weapons were all slung across their backs. They were tense and vigilant as they surrounded the airlock of the shuttle.

  The woman who stepped out next explained the honor guard. She wore a fitted skirt suit that made the most of her tall, slender figure and power heels that filled Amanda with envy. She could never have walked in anything that high.

  “Vice President Cole,” she murmured to Fenriis and Danaar. “She’s hard as nails… takes no prisoners. Been known to make her political opponents cry.”

  “Really?” It wasn’t Fenriis but Danaar, standing next to her, who answered. “She does not strike me as a female who is easily scared.”

  Amanda shook her head. “Former war reporter before she went into politics. She’s the real deal.”

  Several uniformed men followed the tall woman, trailing her across the deck toward Fenriis and his waiting group of warriors. It was easy to see the vice president was in command, and just as easy to see it didn’t sit well with the high ranked military men behind her. They were resplendent in their bling and braid, looking like children playing dress-up compared to the no-nonsense leather of the Latharian warriors.

  Amanda flicked a glance up at Fenriis. Even though he was in command of the whole ship, he was dressed like the rest of his men. She couldn’t see any outward sign of rank on any of them. The only difference was Fenriis was the only one of them with short hair.

  The rest all had long locks that covered their shoulders, most of them with a mass of braids on one side, the ends decorated with different colored beads. It had to be some kind of system, she decided. They weren’t the sort to sit around and plait each other's hair and sing songs.

  Madison gave an easy smile as she reached them, her hand outstretched. “War Commander Fenriis. A pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

  Before Amanda could murmur to him to shake hands, Fenriis reached out and clasped Madison’s hand.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Madam Vice President,” he said, giving her hand a firm shake before letting go. Approval spread through Amanda when he didn’t try and dominate the gesture or pander to Madison’s gender in any way… simply treating her as an equal.

  “May I present my senior warriors,” he indicated the men surrounding them. “My second in command, Danaar…”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Danaar stepped forward. Unlike Fenriis, his manner wasn’t polite and solicitous. Instead, his manner was predatory and domineering as he crowded her.

  Amanda felt more than saw the tension roll through the marines behind Madison, but she stayed them with a small motion of her hand as she looked up at the tall warrior.

  “Well, aren’t you just a long tall drink of water?” Her voice was low but controlled and she didn’t back down an inch, her gaze locked to his as she matched him look for look. “Now, do you want to step aside, handsome, or do you have t
he brains to back up that brawn?”

  Danaar didn’t appear to know what to say, and Amanda bit back her smile as she clocked the quirk at the corner of Madison’s lips. Oh yeah, she had the measure of the big warrior alright.

  Fenriis growled in warning and Danaar stepped aside. But it didn’t escape Amanda’s notice that he didn’t return to his original position, instead hovering by Madison’s side.

  “And this is my mate, Amanda K’Vass…” Fenriis continued, as if Danaar hadn’t interrupted. A hand on the small of her back, he urged her forward.

  “Ma’am,” she murmured, not sure if she should bow or curtsy or something, but Fenriis' small look stopped her. She’d stopped being a subject of Earth the moment she’d accepted his claim on her, so she straightened her spine and held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Likewise!” Madison was all genuine smiles as she shook Amanda’s hand, covering it with her own for a moment.

  “And congratulations on your… wedding?” she checked, looking between the two of them.

  Amanda opened her mouth but stalled, not sure what to say, but Fenriis came to the rescue.

  “Bonding… the ceremony itself will be carried out at court before the emperor,” he said, sliding an arm around Amanda’s waist and pulling her against his side. His expression as he smiled down at her made her heart skip a beat.

  “So you’re not really married then?” One of the blinged up generals behind Madison asked, his voice verging on a sneer.

  The temperature around Amanda dropped several degrees, the attention of every warrior in the room on the general.

  “General Hopkins.” Madison’s voice was like a whip in the air. “We cannot attribute human cultural norms to an alien society. They can, and probably will, do things differently to us.”

  Fenriis inclined his head in what seemed to be silent thanks for the vice president’s words, but Danaar spoke.

  “Once a warrior's claim has been accepted, it is binding,” he rumbled, looking down at Madison as though he were talking to her and only her. “The ceremony is simply a…”

  “Formality?” she offered, eyebrow arched, and smiled when he nodded.

  “Not all couples have a ceremony. It’s not required by law. As long as the female swears she was not under duress when she accepted the claim… it stands.”

  “So…” Amanda couldn’t help butting in. “It’s just down to two people deciding to be together.” She exchanged glances with Madison, ignoring the simmering Hopkins, who had been banished to the back of the group with a wave of Madison’s hand. “Seems far more sensible than some Terran cultures, doesn’t it?”

  “Oh, indeed,” the taller woman replied, turning her attention to the warriors around them. “We still have a problem with some cultures… arranged marriages where the woman has no choice, child brides… that sort of thing.”

  “What?” Fenriis’ voice rang with surprise. “You marry children to other children? For what reason? They’re children—”

  Amanda shook her head sadly, her hand on his arm. “Not to other children, love. Some men like their wives very, very young.”

  It was a problem in the outer colonies with some of the more traditional religions. The trouble was, all the way out where they were, it was hard for the authorities to stop them, or to stop families traveling from Earth for such a purpose.

  Fenriis looked at her in shock, and then his features twisted. “That’s disgusting. Those are not males worthy of the name. We would not allow such males to remain Lathar. They would become dishonored… if we allowed them to live at all. We will happily find and rout these males out, should your leadership allow us to,” he directed to Madison, a sentiment echoed by his men as they all nodded in agreement.

  Right there, seeing his genuine reaction, Amanda’s heart melted a little bit more. Far from the barbarian alien warriors they’d been told the Lathar were, she was coming to realize they were simply different. And unfortunately the standard human reaction to anything different was to fear it.

  Madison inclined her head. “Thank you. One day I hope we will be able to combine our efforts on such an undertaking.”

  7

  Danaar hadn’t left Madison’s side. He was following her around like some overgrown, leather-clad puppy.

  “I think he has a thing for her,” Amanda whispered to Fenriis, her hand tucked into his arm as he led them around the ship on a tour.

  So far they’d seen the staterooms, with the bridge below them, the central gallery where the warriors were training against each other and the combat bots that lined many of the hallways. Danaar had led them through one of the barracks, where the majority of silent warriors stood at the end of their beds, and then showed them one of the senior warriors' quarters.

  She’d been surprised to realize that Fenriis’ quarters were exactly the same; just a couple of rooms, and no more luxurious than the rest.

  They were currently in the mess hall, the humans in the party studying the food on offer with interest. Fenriis flicked a glance at the tall vice president, currently looking at what appeared to be a slice of chocolate cake on a plate in her hands. Danaar stood by her side, offering her a fork so she could try it.

  “He definitely has a thing for her,” Fenriis said softly. “If she wasn’t who she was, he’d have done like I did with you and carried her off the moment he saw her.”

  Amanda’s lips quirked as she looked up at him. The rest of the group had moved a little ahead of them. Only Hopkins was lagging, but he appeared to be riveted as a warrior explained how the food was carefully prepared to meet a training warrior’s nutritional requirements.

  He didn’t seem to be paying attention to her and Fenriis so she moved closer, her hands smoothing over his naked chest beneath his jacket.

  “As I recall,” she said in what she hoped was a sultry undertone. “You offered me a choice.”

  And he had. He’d waited until she’d agreed to his offer before carrying her back up to his ship. Something that she suspected was not typical of the Lathar. But then, Fenriis seemed to be unique and very much a man who made up his own mind about things.

  Her gaze locked with his and it was like no one else was in the room. Her existence narrowed down to just the two of them as he slid his hands around her waist and pulled her closer. Her lips parted on a small gasp as she felt the thick, hard bar of his cock pressed against the softness of her belly.

  “I am not a civilized male,” he murmured to her, the look in his dark eyes stealing her breath and setting her heart thundering in her chest like a herd of stampeding elephants. “Not like some of the others. Not like Laarn, your daughter’s mate… They are from a line much more civilized than mine. My father’s people still live in the deserts of our home world, battling sandwryms and living by the old ways.”

  He reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, a look of fascination on his face as he wrapped the trailing end around his finger before letting go.

  “Had I seen you out there, in the desert… I would have just taken you,” he admitted in a rough voice, all pretense seared from his expression. She sucked in a hard breath. It was like she could see all the way down to his soul.

  “You’re so beautiful. Like a goddess made flesh and sent down to tempt mortal males… and you’re all mine. I would have made sure of it.”

  He dipped his head so his lips brushed her ear. “I would have tumbled you down, got you underneath me and stripped the clothes from your curvy little body… then buried my cock balls deep in your tight heat. Claimed you right there and then with my body and seed so all would know you are mine.”

  She blinked, heat filling her at his explicit words and rushing to color her cheeks. “What… in public?” she whispered.

  She wasn’t a prude but the idea of that—having sex with everyone watching—just didn’t do it for her.

  “Draanth, no!” His response was immediate and forceful. Head thrown back, his nostrils flar
ed and his eyes flashed dangerously at her suggestion. “You’re mine. No other male gets to look at you that way. Not ever again.”

  She bit back her smile at the possessive note in his voice. Having a guy go all alpha male on her was seductive in its own right, especially when he looked the way Fenriis did. Call her shallow, she didn’t care, it felt damn good.

  “No,” he continued on a growl, sliding his hand into her hair, and held her still as he bent his head as though to kiss her. Her blood heated in anticipation. “I’d have claimed you under my cloak. Protected you from the sun and the gaze of other males with it and my own body,” he murmured against her lips and then, finally, kissed her.

  It started out soft, little more than a brush of his mouth against hers, but she was greedy. Wanted, needed, more.

  She’d had trouble at first understanding why he’d wanted her. Why this seemingly young, handsome man was interested in her at all. But now she didn’t care. He obviously was, really was, and she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  So she kissed him, lifting up on her toes to press against him eagerly. The rumble of approval in the back of his throat said he’d noticed, and the touch of his hand across her lower back was electric.

  Her tongue brushed against his lower lip, his mouth opening to allow her access…

  Then the shit hit the fan.

  Somewhere between one kiss and the next, when it seemed Fenriis was ready to push her into a quiet corner all to themselves, shouts of anger and gunshots broke the spell.

  If she’d thought the Lathar were fast before, it was nothing compared to the speed they reacted with now. Her head whirled as Fenriis lifted her bodily and shoved her behind him. His attention snapped to the small group of humans in the middle of the mess hall.