Page 17 of Grumpy Alien Boss

CHAPTER 17

OLIVIA

" T hat's for after the wedding, not for getting engaged," I say as Dar reaches for me at our front door.

"Too bad." His red eyes flash with mischief. "I make the rules now."

Before I can protest, he hoists me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing. The world spins upside down, my hair dangling as he carries me across the threshold.

Smack! His palm connects with my bottom.

"Hey!"

"Been wanting to do that all day." Another playful spank makes me yelp.

My heart races as he strides past the living room, past the kitchen, straight toward the special room we haven't christened yet. The anticipation builds with each step.

"Finally going to break in the play room?" I try to keep my voice steady despite my mounting excitement.

"Past time, don't you think?" His hand caresses where he spanked, sending shivers down my spine.

The door clicks open. Even upside down, I catch glimpses of leather and chrome in the dim lighting. All those delicious implements we picked out together but haven't had a chance to use, what with saving the world from shape-shifting aliens and all.

"Put me down, you brute." I squirm halfheartedly against his grip.

"As you wish." He sets me on my feet inside the room, steadying me as the blood rushes back to my head.

My breath catches as I take in the full view - the padded bench, the suspension rig, walls lined with floggers and cuffs and other wicked toys. The air feels charged with possibility.

"Tonight, I make you mine. Utterly." Dar's voice drops to a growl that makes my knees weak.

His scaled hands slide around my waist from behind, the warmth of his body pressing against my back. I tilt my head to the side as his lips brush the nape of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. My breath catches as his fingers trail up my sides, undressing me with deliberate slowness.

“You’re always in such a hurry,” I murmur, my voice already uneven as he peels my blouse away, his fingertips grazing my skin.

“And you talk too much,” he growls, his lips finding the curve of my shoulder. His tongue flicks against my skin, the sensation making me gasp.

I reach back, my fingers tangling in the thick ridge of his neck, anchoring myself as his hands work their way to the clasp of my bra. The cool air of the room hits my bare chest, and I let out a soft groan as his hands cup my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples.

“You’re insufferable,” I say, though my voice is more breath than words.

“And yet, here you are.” His chuckle vibrates against my skin as he unfastens my skirt, letting it pool at my feet. His hands slide down my hips, his scales rough and smooth at once, a contrast that makes my skin hum.

I twist in his arms, breaking free of his grasp, and turn to face him. His red eyes glint with amusement as I reach for the buttons of his shirt. My fingers fumble slightly, but he doesn’t help, just watches me with that smug smirk of his.

“So impatient,” he teases as I finally get the shirt open and push it off his shoulders. His torso is a map of black and red scales, the muscles beneath rippling with even the slightest movement.

“You’re one to talk,” I shoot back, my hands moving to his belt. The leather slides free with a soft click , and I drop it to the floor. My fingers hook into the waistband of his trousers, and I glance up at him, my lips curving into a sly smile.

“What?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing,” I say, dragging his pants down his legs. His cock springs free, and I don’t hesitate, dropping to my knees and taking the tip into my mouth. The taste of him is warm and salty, and I hear his sharp intake of breath above me.

“Liv,” he growls, his hand tangling in my hair.

I hum against his skin, teasing the sensitive crown with my tongue, and he lets out a low, rumbling sound that makes my whole body heat up. His grip tightens, and I know I’ve got him right where I want him—completely at my mercy.

His hips twitch, and he lets out a low, guttural growl as he spills into my mouth. I don’t pull back, don’t falter. Instead, I swallow every drop, my eyes locked on his. His red gaze burns into me, and I let him see it—the way I relish this, the way I crave him. His approval, his dominance, his everything.

“Good girl,” he rumbles, his voice rough and thick with satisfaction. His hand strokes my hair gently, and I shiver at the sound of those words. They always do something to me—unravel me, unravel my control.

I lean back on my heels, wiping the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. “Good girl? That’s all I get? No standing ovation? No medal?”

He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through me. “Don’t get cocky, Liv. You’re good, but you’re not that good.”

I smirk up at him, tilting my head. “Oh, I’m not? Because from where I’m kneeling, you seemed pretty impressed.”

His fingers tighten in my hair, not enough to hurt, but enough to make me acutely aware of his strength. “Impressed, maybe. But don’t think for a second you’re getting off easy tonight. You’ve still got discipline coming.”

I roll my eyes, though my heart skips a beat. “Discipline? Really? What did I do now? Breath too loudly? Exist too confidently?”

He drags me to my feet with a firm grip, his other hand already reaching for a length of rope coiled on the wall. “You’ve got a smart mouth, that’s what. And I’m going to make sure it’s put to better use.”

I snort, even as he starts looping the rope around my wrists, his movements precise and deliberate. “Better use? Like what? Singing your praises?”

“Something like that,” he says, his voice a low purr as he pulls the rope taut, securing my arms behind my back. The rough texture of the hemp against my skin sends a thrill through me, but I keep my tone light, teasing.

“You know, I bet I can wriggle out of this if I really tried.”

He doesn’t respond, just starts weaving the rope around my torso, creating a complex harness that binds me snugly. I can’t help but admire his skill—every movement is calculated, practiced. It’s kind of hot, actually.

“You’re awfully quiet now,” I say, testing the limits of my restraints. “Getting shy? Or are you just running out of witty comebacks?”

He tugs the rope tighter, and I let out a soft gasp.

“Still talking, I see.”

“Always,” I shoot back, grinning. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that to shut me up.”

He pauses, his red eyes locking onto mine.

“Is that a challenge?”

Before I can answer, he grabs another length of rope—silk this time, smooth and cool against my skin. He trails it down my body, the soft fabric brushing over my breasts, my stomach, until it dips between my thighs.

I suck in a sharp breath as he drags the rope through my pussy, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through me. My snarky comment dies on my lips, replaced by a low, guttural moan.

Dar smirks, his fingers working the rope with agonizing slowness. “What was that? I didn’t catch it.”

I bite my lip, trying to hold back the sound, but it’s no use. The silk glides across my slick folds, and another moan escapes me. “Dar?—”

“Beg,” he commands, his voice rough and commanding. “Beg me to let you come.”

My knees wobble, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “Please...”

"Come." Dar's command hits me like lightning, and my body obeys instantly.

The orgasm rips through me with devastating force. My legs shake and warmth gushes between my thighs, splashing onto the floor. The silk rope is drenched, clinging to my sensitive flesh.

My knees buckle but Dar's strong arms catch me before I fall. The room spins as he lifts me, cradling me against his scaled chest. The leather padding of the table feels cool against my heated skin as he lays me down.

Metal clinks and leather creaks as Dar fastens my ankles into the spreader bar. His red eyes gleam with wicked intent, and my heart races with anticipation.

A mechanical whirring fills the air. My world tilts as Dar works the crank, slowly lifting me until I'm suspended upside down. Blood rushes to my head, making everything feel dreamy and surreal.

"Is this all you've got?" I tease, testing the restraints. "Because honestly, this is just fun."

The position leaves me completely exposed and vulnerable, but I've never felt safer. Or more turned on.

The cool, smooth surface of the candle presses against my entrance, and I gasp as Dar pushes it inside me. The blunt end stretches me just enough to make my breath hitch, and I squirm in my restraints, the leather cuffs biting into my wrists and ankles. Every movement sends a jolt of pleasure through me, the sensation amplified by the helplessness of my position.

“Dar,” I whimper, my voice trembling. “Please, let me come.”

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates through me. “Not yet, brat.”

The candle slides out of me, and I groan in frustration. Before I can protest, I feel the sharp sting of his hand against my pussy lips. The spanking sends a shockwave of pleasure through me, and I cry out as another orgasm crashes over me. My body convulses, and I feel the wetness gush out of me, soaking the candle and Dar’s hand.

“It seems my brat requires the strictest of discipline,” he says, his voice dripping with amusement.

I pant, trying to catch my breath, but he’s already pushing the candle back inside me. The sensation is overwhelming, and I moan as he fills me again. Then I hear the distinct click of a lighter, and I feel a sudden flare of heat on my thighs.

“Did you just light the candle while it’s inside of me?” I ask, my voice shaking not from fear but from sheer pleasure.

“Yes,” he says, his tone matter-of-fact.

I can’t help but laugh, the sound breathless and giddy. “You’re insane.”

“And yet, you love it,” he replies, kneeling down in front of me.

His lips meet mine in a deep, possessive kiss. The angle is strange, upside down, but it’s thrilling in a way I can’t quite describe. His tongue invades my mouth, and I moan into the kiss, my body trembling with need. The heat from the candle inside me is intoxicating, and I can feel the wax beginning to melt, the sensation sending shivers down my spine.

“Dar,” I whisper against his lips. “I need you.”

“You’ll get what I give you,” he says, pulling back slightly. His red eyes bore into mine, and I can see the hunger in them. “And right now, I’m giving you this.”

He starts to move the candle again, the slow, deliberate thrusts driving me wild. The heat from the flame licks at my thighs, wax dripping down, cooling as it touches my skin. The contrast between the heat and the coolness is maddening, and I writhe in my bonds, desperate for more.

“Please,” I beg, my voice breaking. “I can’t take it.”

“You can,” he says, his voice firm. “And you will.”

His words send a thrill through me, and I moan as he continues to fuck me with the candle. The restraints make every sensation more intense, and I can feel myself teetering on the edge of another orgasm. But Dar is in control, and I know he won’t let me come until he’s ready.

“You’re mine,” he growls, his lips brushing against mine. “And I’ll take you however I want.”

I nod, unable to speak, my body trembling with need. The candle moves inside me, the heat and the wax driving me closer and closer to the edge. And then, finally, he gives me the command I’ve been waiting for.

“Come.”

The word is like a trigger, and my body obeys instantly. The orgasm crashes over me, and I cry out, my body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washes over me. Dar holds me steady, his hands firm on my hips as I ride out the intense sensations.

When it’s over, I’m left panting, my body limp in the restraints. Dar pulls the candle out of me, and I feel the cool air against my sensitive flesh. He leans in, his lips brushing against mine in a soft, almost tender kiss.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction.

The ropes creak as Dar lowers me from the ceiling, my body swaying gently like a pendulum. My skin tingles where the restraints had bitten in, the sensation mixed with the lingering heat of the wax. I twist my wrists experimentally, testing the give, but the knots are as unyielding as Dar himself.

"Untie me, you overgrown lizard," I say, wriggling for effect. My voice is light, teasing, but there’s an edge of need beneath it. I’m desperate to feel his hands on me again, even if it’s just to free me.

Instead of untying me, I feel his palm connect with my ass in a sharp, stinging slap. I yelp, more from surprise than pain, and hear his low, rumbling chuckle.

"Still mouthy, I see," he says, his voice thick with amusement. "Guess I’ll have to do something about that."

Before I can retort, I feel something cold and rubbery pressed against my lips. A ball gag. I open my mouth to protest, but he slides it in before I can get a word out. The leather straps dig into the corners of my mouth as he fastens it behind my head. I feel the click of a padlock, and my heart skips a beat.

"This isn’t exactly what I meant by ‘untie me,’" I mumble around the gag, my words muffled but still coherent enough to sass him.

"Talking back, even when gagged. Impressive," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. I hear the rustle of fabric and feel a blindfold being tied over my eyes. The world goes dark, and suddenly, every other sense feels heightened. The warmth of his body, the scent of his skin—spice and something alien I can’t quite place—fills my awareness.

"Now," he says, his voice close, making me shiver, "it’s your turn. Make me come."

I tilt my head, trying to convey my confusion and skepticism through the gag. I can’t use my arms, my mouth, or my eyes. What exactly does he expect me to do? Telekinesis?

"Isn’t making it hard literally my job?" I try to say, though it comes out as a garbled mess. I’m sure he gets the gist, though, because I hear his low, rumbling laugh.

"Improvise," he says simply.

Alright, challenge accepted. I can’t see him, but I can feel him. His body heat radiates through the room, and I move toward it, guided by instinct. My rope-bound arms are useless, but my body isn’t. I press my chest against him, feeling the hard plane of his scaled torso. I can feel his cock, hot and throbbing, against my abdomen. I rub my breasts against him, the rough rope adding an extra layer of sensation.

"You’re trying," he says, his voice strained. "But you’re going to have to do better than that."

I step back, frustrated but determined. I hear him shift, and then his voice comes from lower—he’s sitting on the floor. His hands guide my hips, positioning me over him. I lower myself slowly, feeling the thick, scaled length of him press against my entrance. I sink down, gasping around the gag as I take him inside me.

I start to move, my hips grinding against him in slow, deliberate circles. His growl of approval sends a thrill through me, and I pick up the pace, riding him with all the ferocity I can muster. His hands grip my hips, guiding me, encouraging me.

"God, Liv," he groans, his voice rough with need. "You feel incredible."

I wish I could tell him how good he feels, how he fills me completely, how every stroke drives me closer to the edge. Instead, I let my body speak for me, my movements becoming more frantic, more desperate.

"Please," I mumble around the gag, begging for release. "Can I...?"

"Yes," he growls, his voice breaking as he comes inside me. I feel his cock pulse, the hot rush of him sending me over the edge. My body convulses around him, the pleasure so intense it steals my breath.

As the waves subside, I slump against him, my body trembling. He holds me close, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I feel the gag being removed, the blindfold lifted. I blink up at him, my vision blurred, but I can still see the satisfaction in his red eyes.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice soft but laden with pride. I smile, my body limp but sated. Challenge accepted. Challenge conquered.