Page 77 of Galaxy Games Four-Book Box Set (Galaxy Games)

77

Where’s the Downside?

S adie

We’ve already established I can’t run. And talking seemed to calm him in the past. Besides, I have nothing at my disposal other than my words.

“Anubis is a good male. He’s decent and kind. I don’t see any blood on you. You’re safe. You can go to sleep.”

I ease to the packs we’d set down before the bear came calling. Slowly bending while I keep an eye on him, I open one pack and then the other to grab the silver blankets. Then I rise, flick them open, and lay them on the least rocky areas of the floor.

One is on his side of the room, the other is on mine. It’s a visual cue—you sleep way over there, I’ll sleep way over here. Get it?

He’s not even looking at the sleeping arrangements. He’s looking at me. As if I’m delicious—and he’s hungry.

Maybe it’s the fire, but his eyes seem to be glowing even brighter red as he sniffs the air. He stalks to me. I can’t help but notice how tall and muscular and confident he is.

“Anubis. I’m not interested.” I shake my head, assuming he can’t understand me. When that doesn’t deter him, I back up until I hit the rough, rocky wall.

He comes close, having no awareness of personal boundaries, until he’s standing right in front of me. His palms bracket my head as he leans close and sniffs me.

He’s huge and feral and doesn’t understand spoken language. He places his nose at the juncture of my neck and shoulder and breathes in deeply. He does the same thing in my hair, then moves to the other side of my head, sniffing at my ear.

Stepping even closer, his naked cock presses against my stomach.

He’s making a rumbling noise. It’s animalistic and full of need.

His black fur is soft against my skin as he touches me wherever he wants. He’s tipped his head, looking at me in wonder as his clawed finger winds around a strand of my hair that must have escaped my ponytail in my fight with the bear.

There’s something terribly wrong with me. I should be disgusted—or terrified. I should try to push him away. Even though it would be as effective as a hummingbird battling a lion, I should beat my fists on his chest or knee him in the nuts. Instead, I’m quivering in anticipation of what he’s going to do next.

Those unearthly red eyes stay focused on me as he uses the back of one finger to stroke my cheek. He releases a canine sigh as he strokes me again, then tips his head as he edges closer.

He sniffs rapidly, as if he just caught an interesting scent on the air. I think it’s me.

He replaces the finger that was softly stroking my cheek with his nose. It’s as if he’s memorizing me—my feel, my scent. Then the tip of his tongue slides along my jawline to my ear, where it explores every whorl and twist.

I shiver in arousal when he tongues my ear. I’m unable to control my hip-thrust as he continues.

I hate my body right now. It’s a traitor. I keep repeating to myself, this isn’t Anubis . This is some beast the Federation created as a super-soldier. It’s an animal, barely sentient. It’s not the body that made love to me last night and brought me to the peak of pleasure many times.

But I evolved from animals, too. My body is responding to his despite my orders to the contrary.

He rips the buttons off my shirt and wrestles the tattered remains off my body, then leans back to look at me. A deep hum rips from his throat. It’s part humanoid, part animal.

Maybe it’s the clothes ripping, or the animal need radiating off him, or the feral noises. Something cracks open inside me, lighting my libido on fire.

Using his thumbs, he pulls my halter up and over my head. I don’t fight him. My hardened buds are puckered, waiting for his tongue. I’m on fire for him. My panties are drenched despite my best intentions.

He sniffs in loudly. It’s lusty and animalistic and the biggest turn-on of my life.

All in one movement, he slides to his knees, grabs my ass with both hands, and puts his snout between my legs. He whimpers—whimpers!—in desire as he tosses his head back and forth. I’m sure he has no idea that his nose’s pressure on my clit is turning me on even more.

He shakes his head as he sniffs, I reward him with my scent, he shakes even more, and both our desires ratchet up exponentially.

Did I call him animalistic? Listen to me. I’m panting almost as loudly as he is.

A tiny part of my brain urges me to close my legs, scold him, and point to the bedding on his side of the cave. In direct defiance of the sensible, prudish part of my mind, I open my stance and invite more of his touch.

When he stands again and folds me into his arms, I unfasten my autozip and kick off my pants.

I’m tired of fighting with myself, tired of telling myself what’s right and wrong, tired of living by rules that made sense a billion miles away on the other side of the universe but have no place here.

What matters is that I’m here now, and I love the male who’s trapped inside this body and can’t communicate with me. I want what I want and I want it right fucking now. Besides, I’ll be dead tomorrow. The next day tops, and only if I’m lucky.

This bestial, alien geneslave wants to make me feel good? Where’s the downside?