Page 3 of Space Daddy’s Guide to the Galaxy (Villains in Space #2)

3

MICAH

Catch me when you can, Space Daddy!

It was a question of when, not if, because this was Zig we were talking about and, besides the fact he was wearing a skinsuit I already knew was faster than me, my man played to win.

That doesn’t mean I won’t give him a chase to remember.

The instant my boots connected with the alien goo-covered gangway, I conjured a set of crampons, digging the spikes into the slippery metal so I stayed upright long enough not to fall on my ass.

It wasn’t until I reached the kitchen that I heard Maroxian-Ziggy release a bone-chilling yowl and start his pursuit, and a split second of panic had me breaking into a cold sweat.

Focus, Micah!

It’s just Zig.

And you’re a bad bitch.

There weren’t many places to go in the Lodger, and as tempting as it was to make a beeline for the bedroom, descending to the lower level would drag out the foreplay a little longer.

First, I need to slow him down.

The majority of Zig’s displaced weapons were still scattered around the kitchen, and while I didn’t know how all of them worked, I recognized a few, like the Iota Bombs. These acorn-sized explosives were more of a distraction than anything, but the flashes of light they gave off were enough to temporarily blind whoever triggered them.

Maroxian-Ziggy’s monstrous shadow appeared in the doorway, so I tossed a handful in his direction and made my escape, sliding down the fireman’s pole I’d begged him to install alongside the utilitarian ladder.

Because… c’mon!

The bombs exploded the same moment I hit the lower deck, and I heard Ziggy curse in Maroxian before growling in annoyance over his temporary loss of sight.

Determined not to give him any edge this time, I reactivated my shields, masking my scent before slipping into the stifling-hot boiler room.

Aka, the not-nursery.

I remained motionless until the sound of his sharp talons scraping the metal floor faded into the distance. Then, I traded out my crampons and slipped from the room, silently sneaking back the way I came.

I’d barely made it a few feet when the hair on the back of my neck raised—leaving me with the distinct impression I was being watched—but when I peered over my shoulder, the gangway was empty.

And deathly silent.

This does not bode well.

The ladder was in sight, but I only took one more step before a strange sound had me freezing mid-step. It was a husky, rhythmic hiss that sounded like laughter.

It was also coming from directly above me.

Like that one dumbass in every horror movie, I slowly looked up. Ambush predator that he was, Ziggy was plastered to the ceiling, his armored Maroxian form molded around the pipes and lighting, awaiting the moment I realized it was all over.

Not yet, it’s not!

I threw myself toward the ladder, screaming when—like my earlier, way less sexy chase—claws closed around my ankle and dragged me to the floor.

Thanks to instinctual panic, my safe word was on the tip of my tongue, but my dick was also hard enough to punch through my shields, straight into the metal beneath me, so it was clear which head was in charge.

“Lower. Your. Shields,” Ziggy growled in my ear, caging me beneath his unfamiliar body, reminding me how much bigger he was in this form.

My hands closed around the fireman’s pole in a defiant grip. “No.”

Yeah, I was still a little salty over being left behind, and a lot salty over how easily he’d caught me.

What better way to brat out than to keep my fine ass to myself?

“I can’t smell—” Ziggy cut himself off, panting in growly breaths that only made me harder. “All I smell is the Maroxian who attacked you. I must fix that.”

Fix it?

I knew Zig was limited to the vocabulary of whatever skinsuit he occupied in that moment— hello, celestial catastrophe —but he was also a man who chose his words carefully.

“Nothing about this mission went to plan.”

He thinks he fucked up his directives…

But it’s actually my fault.

With a sigh, I twisted my body to look at him over my shoulder. “I shouldn’t have opened the bay door. The motion alarms went off, and I couldn’t see what was out there through the scope. I-I thought you might be hurt and unable to star hop…”

Maroxian-Ziggy cocked his head—an oddly curious expression on such an inhuman face. “You… wanted to save me?”

I huffed, annoyed at this big idiot all over again. “Of course I wanted to save you, Zig! You aren’t the only one who gets worried when we’re apart. At least in your case, you can feel it when I need help.”

Ziggy froze, probably because I was getting myself all worked up. Tears pricked my eyelids as the anxiety and relief I’d been holding in flooded my system now that the adrenaline of the chase was gone.

“Lower your shields, star brightness,” he said, gentler this time, and I stifled a smile at his ad-libbing what was most likely supposed to be ‘sunshine.’ “I need to be inside you.”

I bit back my customary reminder that he already was, but I knew even that permanently embedded piece wasn’t enough for Ziggy Andromeda. If my man could live inside me completely, he would be the happiest little body snatcher in all the galaxies.

But that’s not what he’s talking about at the moment…

My gaze lowered to where Ziggy’s Maroxian dick rested on my inaccessible ass—my lower back, really, thanks to its ridiculous length. It was long, yes, but the most exciting feature was the almost cock cage-like exoskeleton surrounding every inch of it, save for the dripping head.

“Please…” Ziggy mumbled low—as close to a whine as his current vessel allowed—rubbing himself against me, leaving a trail of precum on my shields.

Well, if I must.

Besides wanting to continue my all-access tour of the skinsuit closet, my proud Stellarian begging was my kryptonite, so I didn’t waste another second before lowering my defenses.

Aaaand Zig didn’t waste a second before he struck.

I yelped as his tail swung around, securely binding my wrists to the pole while his claws tore off everything I wore below the belt.

RIP, Han Solo pants.

Again.

Successfully immobilized, I could only watch in scaroused horror as his massive, fanged mouth opened—releasing his long, slimy black tongue.

Okay, why is that kinda…

“FUCK!” I shouted as Ziggy wrenched my ass cheeks apart, claws digging into my flesh as his mile-long tongue punched its way into my hole. “Holy fuck, Zig, just… fuck!”

Of course, he’d rimmed me before—in multiple forms—but this was the first skinsuit with a Venom-worthy appendage.

We were all thinking it. Don’t play.

I writhed beneath him as it tunneled deeper, teasing my p-spot just enough to make me whine, the squelching sounds mixing with my helpless noises and Ziggy’s growls until the gangway echoed with obscenity.

More, more, more!

All I knew was I would need to peruse the closet again after this, because the only time I’d experienced this glorious of a sensation was from Ziggy’s tendrils.

Plus the tentacle dildo I’d created back home, pre-space adventures.

Nothing like the real thing nowadays.

“My mate,” he growled after withdrawing his tongue, making me moan. “Mine to taste… to claim… to devour…”

Zig’s brain had clearly gone bye-bye to primal la-la land, so I couldn’t be sure if he meant that last part literally, but I also did not give a single fuck.

“Devour me,” I whimpered as he licked a hot stripe up my center again. “I need more.”

My brain might have been on its way to la-la land as well, but I was still coherent enough to know exactly which words to say to push his feral buttons.

“Get inside me. Please… breed me.”

That did it, as I barely registered a full second before Ziggy notched his armored cock at my opening, viciously pushing past my tight ring.

Okay, maybe not as tight as it used to be, but look what I’m dealing with here!

It was a good thing I’d spent the past several months gorging myself at the weird peen buffet, because, while the stretch was wild—magnified by the cage-like texture skipping over my prostate—the only pain I felt was the good kind.

There’s nothing better than being stuffed full of alien appendages.

“Mine…” Ziggy rumbled, sawing his way in like he truly wanted to rip me open to nest inside. “Mine to drench with my seed, to fertilize and inseminate.”

Ehhh…

It appeared the word ‘breed’ was not in the Maroxian vocabulary, but I could work with whatever my man gave me. After all, mating vibes were quite literally universal.

“Mine to impregnate.”

That’s the one!

Impregnate sounded close enough to mpreg to get my motor running. It didn’t hurt that it reminded me of when I’d worn Ziggy’s armor to the Muonova to pretend-capture him, only to have my dick-drunk Stellarian beg me to?—

“Tear me apart, Space Daddy!” I blurted out in a sudden gush of inspiration.

Ziggy lowered himself with a growl, rubbery skin gliding over mine as razor-sharp teeth grazed the back of my neck. I instinctively squealed, clenching around him, and he cursed before placing a clawed hand on my nape instead.

No bedroom bites from this skinsuit, thank you very much.

I could live without the nibbles, especially with Ziggy holding me down so he could jackhammer into my ass with frenzied abandon. We’d played with ridged dicks before, but this was next level—like an actual piece of machinery wrecking my hole.

Anything is a dildo if you’re brave enough!

“Yes, Zig! Yes, Space Daddy! Fuck me, breed me, mpreg me. Fill me with your cum. I’m yours to tear the fuck apart. Pump me full of Stellarian super space babies, pleeeeease!”

Never mind that this wasn’t at all how Stellarians reproduced. I was happily babbling slutty nonsense, drooling on the gangway and so close to climax, I could taste it.

Like heaven.

Precum was pulsing from my throbbing dick, smearing all over the metal floor as the weight of Ziggy’s thrusts provided unrelenting friction.

What I wouldn’t give to turn the tables and breed his ass.

It wasn’t the first time I’d envisioned mpregging my stellar collision, of somehow lodging a permanent piece of myself inside him.

And the obvious way to do that is to make babies with my Space Daddy.

This thought had me clamping down on the bulldozer currently rearranging my internal organs and howling through my orgasm, painting the floor with so much cum, it felt like a goddamn slip ‘n slide.

Wheee!

“All. Mine,” Ziggy snarled, his pelvis flush against my ass while his caged cock continued to piston inside me, pumping me so full, his ‘seed’ ran down my legs.

Okay, so maybe “drenched” was the right word…

We caught our collective breath for a few minutes while Ziggy massaged my wrists and nuzzled his terrifying face against the back of my neck.

To no one’s surprise, he withdrew his monster cock before sliding down my body until he was in prime position to unleash that magic tongue again. I melted into a puddle—literally—as he burrowed into my ass, collecting every drop before rolling me over and licking the cum from my sweaty abs.

So gross yet so sweet.

Tears blurred my vision again, but this time, it was from gratitude. Watching a creature who’d tried to kill me be so loving and gentle reminded me how perfect Ziggy was for me—not just with the way he protected me, but with how he always provided exactly what I needed.

He has certainly come a long way with the aftercare.

Closing my eyes, I allowed the soothing motion of his tongue to wash away my cum and my anxiety, bringing me back to baseline with his signature sexy competency.

Until the motion alarm went off again.

The one that meant something was inside the ship.