Alien passion, p.3
Alien Passion, page 3
part #2 of The Alpha Prince of Astia Series
“Yes,” he says. “I know this, so if you let me claim—”
“One step at a time, Tor, please,” I say, that sensation of unease tightening around my throat.
“I will ensure you are well guarded, Omega, but it is not the same as being claimed. Let me keep you safe.”
“I’m not ready.” How do I explain how I’m feeling to him? How frightening the idea of being claimed is? To him it is a way of life, to me something alien, barbaric, unknown. “Please give me a bit more time, Alpha.”
“For you, Emma, I would wait forever.” Tor catches the hand at his cheek and brings my palm to his lips, kissing it. “I would very much like to fuck you now, Omega. But we must get you dressed.”
Then still holding my hand he pulls me into another room, Fluffy trailing at our heels.
This must be a bathroom because there is a bowl in the corner which looks similar to a toilet but there is no basin and no shower, instead what dominates the room is a huge pool. The floor cuts away, sloping down into fluorescent blue water that radiates aromas of flowers and fruits.
Tor points towards the water. “You may bathe in the waters?”
“Is it warm?”
“Of course.”
I toe off my boots and creep towards the water’s edge, dipping my big toe into the liquid and finding it is a perfect temperature. It has been years since I took a bath — years since I floated in warm waters. I tug down the zip of my overalls and slither out, the oversized orange material crumpling to a heap at my feet.
I’m still wearing my underwear but nevertheless, Tor groans in what looks like agony.
“You’re not coming in?” I ask, beckoning him to follow me with a crook of my finger as I step out of my underthings and into the fragrant water.
He groans more loudly and I can taste his lust in the air, but he shakes his head resolutely.
“I wish I could, Omega, but I must return to my friends. There is more to discuss. But I will only be in the other room. You only need to instruct the AI system and I will come immediately.” He watches me wistfully, as I sink into the water, his mouth hanging open. “The tailor will be here shortly, Omega. You must be quick.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I murmur as the water envelopes me and I lie back and allow my body to float on the surface.
Tor curses under his breath and then I hear him hurry away.
I bob in the water for several minutes, staring up at the intricately decorated ceiling, a swirling pattern carved into the metal. But soon my anxiety about what’s going on returns and I remember I am a space cadet and a soon-to-be mum and I’m not going to be pushed out the way while the boys make all the decisions.
When I search about for soap or shampoo, I come up empty handed. Perhaps the sweet fragrance of the water will be enough to remove the grime and stink of space. Still, I rub at my skin with my hands and duck my head under the surface, letting my hair fan out and swish through the water.
When I pop my head up, I’m greeted by the sight of Tor’s mum, and a new Gryton male by her side.
I scream and wrap my arms around my chest.
So privacy isn’t a thing on Astia, huh?
We all stare at each other until I offer another friendly smile. Unfortunately that has Tor’s mother recoiling in alarm for a second time.
Damn. I wish I’d insisted Tor just let me use the translation device on our flight over here. Now I’m going to have to attempt my pigeon Gryton instead.
“Please leave.”
They continue to stare at me and I make a shooing motion with my hands. The Gryton male turns to Tor’s mother with a slight crease of puzzlement adorning his brow.
“No see me,” I say.
The male turns back. “Clothes,” he tells me slowly. I can tell he is trying to be polite but he can’t help his eyes flickering all over me with curiosity. He is smaller and skinnier than the other males I have met so far and he has no scent that I can pick up. His clothes are plainer than the others although stylishly cut and his red hair is braided elaborately over his crown, his eyes ringed in a neon blue.
“Yes clothes.” I try to remember the words Tor’s taught me. No flipping useful ones obviously. I peer down at my bare shoulders, the rest of my naked body shielded by the blue water. “No clothes,” I explain and begin to rise from the water.
Although my arms are covering my breasts, as it becomes clear I’m naked, Tor’s mother gasps and scurries from the room. The male dips his head and follows quickly after.
Just as I expected. I am a hideous sight to them.
Climbing out of the water, I notice how the warm air dries me almost immediately so that I’m completely dry by the time I leave the pool.
I find my underwear and step back into it and then, as there is nothing else to wear, my comfy overalls too.
Sliding out of the room, I find the Gryton male and Tor’s mother waiting for me in the next room. It’s less magnificent than the grand entrance, more homely but still formal. Paintings of what I think might be battles hang on each wall and several elegant couches stand in the centre. I wonder how many rooms there are — is there somewhere we can just slouch about with a TV and a refrigerator? And how about the bedroom? I never thought to ask Tor if the Grytons have beds like ours.
The Gryton male’s gaze skates up and down my new form and his nose crinkles slightly. I guess he also isn’t a fan of my get-up.
When his eyes finally find mine again, I give him a hard stare.
He dips his head and places his hand on his chest. “I am Petier,” he says slowly. “The tailor.”
I mimic the greeting I’ve seen them all use.
“I am Emma.”
“Emma,” he repeats
I twist to Tor’s mother and gesture towards her. No one has told me her name. But my actions have her scuttling away again, this time to a couch at the far side of the room. Lowering herself gracefully, she perches with her hands folded in her lap.
OK, the meeting-the-parents thing is not going well.
Petier is back to examining my overalls when my attention returns to him.
He reaches out his hand, making to touch the stiff, durable material. “May I?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Rubbing the material between his fingers, he circles me, pulling at the loose fabric swamping my frame.
“Not good,” he declares finally.
I give him another hard stare, then mutter in English “I wasn’t exactly trying to win any fashion awards.”
The twinkle in his eyes suggests he finds my babbling amusing. With a swish of his tail, he strolls towards one of the couches where I now see several dresses laid over the arm. The material of each is pale and light, with sparkling white gems sewn into the organza fabric.
He lifts one, looks at me, then replaces it and tries another. Then he stands with his arms crossed over his chest, tapping his finger against his mouth, his tail whipping from side to side behind him.
Tor’s mother makes a suggestion, and he takes the pale blue dress in his arms and brings it towards me.
“Clothes off,” he instructs slowly.
I suddenly feel shy. My body has been changing rapidly these last few weeks; my tummy rounding and my breasts growing heavy. And while Tor seems to worship every little part of me, I suspect he will be the only Gryton who does not find me repulsive.
Still, the dress is pretty. Very pretty. I haven’t had cause to wear anything like that since I dressed up as a princess as a child. I’m curious to know what it will feel like against my skin. And whether Tor will like me in it or not.
So I unzip my overalls and climb out of them yet again.
At the sight of my breasts and my belly, Petier’s eyebrows jump up his face in obvious alarm. He points at me, muttering to Tor’s mother anxiously and far too quickly for me to understand.
She draws herself up even straighter in her seat and answers him in a low, harsh tone I can only imagine is an order or a threat.
The Beta gulps and regains his composure. He inspects my underthings for a few seconds and then offers me the dress.
Struggling with the vast amount of layers and material, Petier eventually steps forward and helps me to locate the holes for my arms and head and then ruffles the soft blue fabric down my body.
I’m obviously much smaller than your average Gryton female because the dress bunches up in waves around my ankles and is loose around my frame. The only place it is tight is around my breasts and belly. I remember Tor telling me only female Grytons with young babies have breasts and he has certainly had a particular fascination with mine.
Petier taps his fingers against his mouth again, then whips open a leather case hanging from his waist and starts to wrestle the dress into shape around me with the help of an army of pins.
I’m surprised to find things done by hand. Tor has always bragged about his specie’s technology being far more advanced than mine, and while it gets up my nose, I have to admit he is right. However, it seems some things they won’t trust to technology.
When Petier’s done, he shuffles back to admire his work and huffs with approval. Tor’s mother mutters something that confirms she is also satisfied and Petier sets to work with a needle and thread, a tiny device in his hand speeding his work. He is remarkably quick and in a matter of minutes my dress fits as perfectly as a glove, sleek to my body and showing every curve. I spin around searching for a mirror but there’s none.
Tor’s mother stands and calls for her son, and before long the three Gryton Alphas stroll into the room. They have changed from the suits they were wearing and each is now dressed in what looks almost like a military uniform. The same skin tight material — but these suits a royal blue, with blood red piping tracing down the outsides of their legs and over their shoulders and a red embroidered crest adorning their breasts. On their feet each wears highly polished boots and a slim needle like sword hangs from their hips.
Petier fusses around me, straightening the skirt of my dress and collecting up spare material from the floor.
The scents of the Alphas peak as they see me, their tails swishing behind them, and I take that as a sign I can’t look so bad. Still, I’d like to see for myself. While I like the idea of looking elegant and sexy for once, I want to ensure the tailor hasn’t turned me into a puff ball princess.
But before I can make my request for a mirror, Tor has marched to my side, grabbed my wrist and ordered everyone out. His tone is more of a growl than coherent words and no one hangs around.
Although his mother mutters some words and in among them I catch the words late and father. Strax takes her by the elbow and steers her out.
“What’s wrong?” I ask Tor, alarmed.
But he isn’t listening, his hungry eyes are roaming over my form and he’s licking his lips like a starving man.
I place my hand on my hip and frown. Then I wave a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Tor? What’s wrong?”
He makes a grab for my hand and uses it to tug me flush up against him.
“Omega, you look like a Goddess. So beautiful, so delicious, so fuckable.”
“You like the dress, then? Does that mean we’re good to go?” Two hours must have passed since we arrived and his mum seemed to believe it urgent that we see Tor’s dad.
“Not yet,” his hands cup my shoulders and follow the neckline of the dress where it scoops down low and frames my cleavage. “I mean to fuck you first.”
“Oh you do, do you? And your dad?”
“Can wait.”
“And my trip to the hospital?”
“A few minutes delay will not matter.”
“A few minutes? Well that doesn’t sound very satisfying.”
His palms brush down my body, over the sides of my breasts, groping my thickening waist and down to my arse.
“It will be very satisfying,” he growls into my ear, and as much as I worry about pissing off his dad, fire stirs in my belly. Tor’s large hands on my body, his big strong arms wrapping around me, is exactly the kind of reassurance I desire right now. The others might look at me as if I’m some strange creature from the zoo, but Tor can’t get enough of me or my body.
His fingers creep up the skirt of my dress as he trails soft kisses along my jaw and down my throat.
He nibbles at the point where my neck meets my shoulder and I shudder and moan. It is a favourite spot of mine and he knows it. He nibbles some more. He enjoys eliciting these noises from my mouth, the ones I couldn’t stifle if I wanted.
Meanwhile he has flung his sword to the ground and tugged himself free from his trousers. But the many layers of skirt prove a nuisance. No matter his efforts to raise them, the material bunches in folds between us.
He tuts in annoyance. “This dress may make you irresistible but it is a giant cock tease. I can’t get anywhere near you.”
I see his point but I watched enough costume dramas on our long endless space flights to know how this works.
Leading him to one of the couches, I fold myself over the arm and flip my skirt over my back, bearing my backside towards him.
Tor has my underwear off in a flash and then he strokes the globes of my arse. I am already wet for him, warmth spreading between my legs and I wiggle my bottom in a way I hope he finds enticing.
“Oh yes, little Omega,” he groans as he thrusts his way inside me. That first feel of him inside me is always the best. I’m always stunned by just how big he is, by the ridges on his cock that seem to light up every nerve inside me, by how he reaches places I’m sure no human penis could. “I will fill you with my seed and ensure every other Alpha Gryton in the court knows you are mine,” he says as his hips come flush against my bottom and he pauses.
“I’m pregnant with your baby,” I gasp. “I think they’re going to know we’re together.”
“I told you,” he says, sliding slowly back out, knowing that I like the considered rub of his ridges against me. “That won’t matter.”
When it’s just the thick head of his cock resting within me, he thrusts in hard again and I’m lifted onto my toes, sparks darting across my vision as he knocks against the sensitive spot inside me.
He continues this leisurely pace. A slow tortured drag out, followed by a hard slam back in.
I remember that we’ve only been doing this for a few weeks and yet he’s already an expert at how to work my body.
Soon I’m moaning and muttering. Begging and wailing at him to just take me hard and fast, to fuck me and knot me and come inside me.
“Tor,” I scream, so close to my orgasm, just needing that little bit of extra friction to send me tumbling. “Tor!”
“You want me so badly, don’t you, little Omega? Only me and my cock. Tell me, Omega, promise me you don’t want anyone else.”
“No one, no one else, just you Alpha. Only you.”
He growls and cracks a hand against my arse as he plunges all the way inside. The pain and the heat from his hand and the pleasure from his cock knocking against every nerve has me screaming with ecstasy. He fucks me through the waves of convulsions as my cunt sucks at his cock, and then he comes too, his hot spunk flooding inside me.
“Knot me,” I beg, but for the first time ever, he doesn’t. He jerks out of me, hot come spilling over my entrances and my arse cheeks, and wraps his fist around the base of his cock, squeezing hard and gritting his teeth.
“No,” I moan, twisting to peer over my shoulder. “No!”
“I can’t knot you, Omega,” he tells me. “There is not enough time.”
I whimper and bite my lip.
My body has become trained for the knot now, and it clenches expecting it.
He screws his eyes and breathes through his nose, more ribbons of his come streaking from his cock and hitting the floor. Finally, it subsides, and he releases his now limp cock and opens his eyes.
“I am not happy.” I pout.
“Neither am I. I didn’t expect that to be as unpleasant as it was.”
“Then please never do it again!”
“If I can help it, I do not intend to!” Producing what looks like a handkerchief from a pocket at his breast, he cleans himself. “We must hurry to the court now. Do not move or you will sully your dress. Let me fetch a cloth.”
Oh, so now he’s worried about being late and looking respectable.
I wait for him with my skirt drawn up by my waist and when he’s cleaned me too, we rearrange my dress, and hurry quickly to the door.
When we draw it back, we find the others waiting for us behind it.
Tor’s mother looks utterly horrified, the Alphas even more curious, and the Beta amused.
“Tor!” I hiss as we follow them towards the vehicle. “Did you know they were right there, listening to everything we just did!”
“Yes,” he answers simply.
“Oh good lord,” I mutter, my cheeks flaming red.
I’m definitely not making the best impression with Tor’s mum. I just hope I fare better with his dad.
Chapter 4 — Tor
The journey to the Great Hall where my father holds court is a short one. As an Alpha Prince of Astia I have been awarded the more luxurious chambers close-by.
Still the journey seems to drag on forever. What I have learned from my friends about the uprising in the East concerns me. Usually such uprisings are easily crushed, but this time circumstances are different.
Both Zyam and Strax have recently returned from the battlefield. The fighting has been fierce and bitter and I can see how worn and tired they are. I fear my father will want to send me to the East to lead his troops. I am one of his best generals and popular with the troops who Strax tells me are beginning to become disgruntled with this war.
This will be a problem. I cannot be separated from my Omega, not when she carries my child and we are not certain this pregnancy will be safe. Also she is newly arrived, unfamiliar with our ways and customs, with no friends and no protectors. I would not leave her alone to fall victim to the beguiling politics of the court. Especially unclaimed.
