Page 9 of Space Daddy’s Guide to the Galaxy (Villains in Space #2)

9

ZIGGY

There were countless reasons my mate was perfect for me, but one of my favorites—besides his beautiful brain—was how desperate he was for my cock.

Figuratively speaking. And skinsuit-dependent, of course.

“I swear to gawd, Zig… This better not be another veiled offer to feed me corpus spongiosum, because ya boy needs the real thingggggg…”

His adorable scolding turned into a squeak of surprise as I abruptly star hopped us to the roof of my Stellarian house. The urge to take him to the Lodger’s sleeping pod—our nest , in my mind—was strong, but I wanted to give him a unique experience tonight.

Something a bit more… personal.

“Excuse you, sir!” Micah exclaimed after we landed. “Why were you holding out on me with the MTV Cribs -style roof deck? Look at this boss setup! I just wanna kick back with a frilly little drink?—”

“I’ll give you something to drink if you’d like,” I smoothly interrupted, tapping my gloved fingers against the metal covering my crotch in hopes of distracting him from the loaded question.

Unsurprisingly, it worked, as Micah’s earthy brown eyes snapped to my cock with the naturally ingrained predatory focus all supes possessed.

Including those who rarely flexed their powers on the battlefield.

Even with the obscene amount of satisfaction I felt over his parents’ deaths, there were also times I begrudgingly appreciated that, by underestimating him, they’d indirectly kept my precious mate out of harm’s way.

Even if I haven’t always managed to do the same.

While immense pride had almost eclipsed the anxiety I’d felt upon discovering Micah standing over the remains of the Maroxian who’d infiltrated my ship, I’d also meant what I said about murdering everyone had anything happened to him. I knew my mate could handle himself—had defeated Astrum Force’s Head Commander when I failed to finish the job—so I tried my hardest to tamp down my protective instincts when they flared up.

The last thing I wanted was for Micah to ever feel coddled, or for his well-earned self-confidence to be eroded by my actions.

Since he is the most impressive creature I’ve ever met.

The mission on Marox required I leave him behind, but usually, I preferred having my stellar collision by my side, because I knew I could count on him to display a level of competence most lacked.

So perfect.

So incredibly attractive.

“You’re so goddamn hot in your armor, Space Daddy,” Micah murmured breathlessly, gliding his hands along the flexible metal as he lowered himself to his knees. “We need to figure out a way for you to fuck me while still wearing it.”

Now that’s an idea…

Micah deftly worked open the hidden fasteners holding my armor together, and I couldn’t help smiling as I recalled how he’d struggled to remove it the first time he wore it as Commander Babygirl.

He looks hot in my armor as well.

My cock slapped against my abs once it was freed, painfully hard from not only the sight of my perfect mate kneeling before me, but the memory of that night. It had not only been the first time Micah had topped me—the first person to ever top me in my Earthling form—it was the only time another’s tendrils had tangled with mine.

Fuck, I want to do that again…

Wait, what?

“What are you thinking about, Zig?”

Micah’s voice snapped me back to the present, and I realized he was standing again, cupping my face in his hands, tilting it downward so his lips could brush mine.

“You,” I answered truthfully, enjoying the feel of his clothed body flush with my naked one. “The first time you topped me, to be exact,” I added, almost truthfully, while finishing the remainder of the thought in my head.

Your tendrils specifically.

Micah blushed and attempted to cover his face before I stopped him. “Gah! I was such a nervous wreck that night… I’m shocked you even let me top you again after that mediocre performance.”

“It was perfect,” I vehemently replied, wishing I could somehow convey all I meant by that through our bond alone. “Everything about it was perfect.”

Everything.

I knew Micah thrived on clear communication, and while I’d made strides to match his candor, I wasn't sure how to articulate what I wanted in this moment.

Because I don’t understand why I want it at all.

My stellar collision blushed deeper before grabbing my hand and leading me toward my “boss setup.” It consisted of an enormous slab of intricately carved petrified wood surrounded by two equally ornate benches topped with handspun silk cushions stuffed with Raspun’s wool.

All stolen from the palace of my first kill.

It may have seemed morbid for me to display my prizes in this way, like hunting trophies or spoils of war, but I had my reasons. My generically furnished housing was originally given to me as charity in exchange for pledging loyalty to Astrum Force Command, but this space was all mine. It represented the freedom my mercenary work had provided me after the limitations of my orphaned upbringing—the moment when I was finally in control of my own trajectory.

Or so I’d believed…

I hadn’t been up here since discovering the old Astrum Force had simply used me as a rebel-born social experiment. However, thanks to Micah, I knew I’d still earned everything I’d accomplished, including this open-air refuge.

So why not share it with my perfect mate?

“Still deep in thought over there?” Micah laughed, kneeling between my thighs after I sat on the bench, not seeming at all offended by how distracted I was. “Still thinking about the time I rocked your world at the Muonova?”

Yes.

I cleared my throat. “Actually, I was… thinking about how important it was to bring you here. How… happy I am that you’re mine.”

Alarm bells rang in my head, trying to convince me I was showing too much weakness, but I tamped down my deeply ingrained flight instincts, determined to show my mate how true my words were.

Even if I’m not telling him all my desires.

Baby steps, as Dr. Micah would say.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one caught off guard by my confession. My stellar collision was frozen with his hands around my shaft, his mouth centimeters from my dripping crown as he gaped up at me.

“Jesus, Zig.” Micah blinked rapidly and dropped his gaze. “I was gonna gobble your dick anyway—no need to butter me up.”

Now he was deflecting, most likely because my sensitive mate was trying to appear tough while his system flooded with emotions. Thanks to our bond, however, and the piece of my essence still inside him, he couldn’t hide from me.

And the last thing I ever want is for Micah to shut me out.

Not like I’ve tried to do to him.

Another thing I lo… liked most about my mate was that he didn’t push me into necessary discomfort until I was ready, so the least I could do was the same for him.

We’ll focus on other things for now.

“I’m also thinking about how expertly you swallow my cock,” I purred, using a tendril to gently guide him into doing just that. “How much you enjoy choking on it.”

“Mmph mmph…” Micah agreed, running his hands up my thighs as his eyelashes fluttered closed and bliss flavored the air.

I groaned when he bottomed out, hot and wet, his tongue lapping at anything it could reach while his throat tightened around me.

Perfection.

“You were made to take me, babygirl,” I stated, caressing his face with my hand before sliding it down to his neck—feeling how perfectly I filled his throat. “Not just your mouth, but your ass…”

I unleashed a few more tendrils to unbutton and unzip his pants before sliding one down the back and between his juicy cheeks, ghosting over his hole.

“Zigmphhh…” Micah tried to speak, but I pushed his head down, feeling his hole flutter in response.

Such a slut.

Micah not only had a safe word— Stormtrooper —but a few non-verbal actions to use if he actually wanted me to stop while his mouth was otherwise engaged. However, “free use” had already been established between us, and with the way he was gazing up at me, eyes glassy and mouth stuffed full of cock, I knew he was giving me unrestricted permission.

My slut.

“For example,” I continued, lazily thrusting into his mouth as I began breaching his ass with a naturally lubed tendril. “Your hole is still so perfectly tight—just for me.”

Micah whimpered and squirmed, so I wrapped two tendrils around his thighs to wrench them open and hold him in place. Then, I added another to his ass.

“Even though I wasn’t your first, this hole is mine,” I growled, still wishing he’d give me names so I could eliminate any rivals outside of our clan. “Just like this perfect cock is mine.”

Micah’s whimper turned into a whine as I burrowed a tendril into the front of his pants to retrieve his cock, loosely coiling around his shaft, stroking in a rhythm I knew was slower than he preferred.

Let’s see how sloppy you can get.

“So perfect,” I praised as saliva overflowed from the corners of his mouth, dripping down my length to coat my sac. “Such a sloppy slut, made just for me.”

Micah’s body had gone limp, indicating he was more than happy to let me fuck his mouth and ass how I saw fit, although I noticed how he thrusted into the tendril wrapped around him—as if he couldn’t help himself.

“Are you thinking about fucking my ass, babygirl?” I tried to snarl, but my voice caught as he unexpectedly slipped a finger behind my balls to circle my hole. “Of… holding me down with your… tendrils again while you take what’s yours?”

It was all I could think about, even if I was certain my stellar collision didn’t share my newfound fixation with our tendrils touching.

Because why would he?

Micah understood that my kind reproduced by using our tendrils to harvest essence from each other, but he would never experience the biological need to create another Stellarian in this way.

A need I never thought I’d experience either…

Prior to meeting my stellar collision, the very idea of reproduction “for the glory and continuation of Stellaria” had made me ill. Thanks to Dr. Micah, I knew this was mostly because of my own abandonment issues, but it was also something I’d simply had no interest in.

Now, it was attempting to consume my thoughts, despite being a moot point anyway. While incredibly accurate, Micah’s gorgeous tendrils were man-made, so combining our essence would be imposs?—

My unruly thoughts were cut short as Micah unfurled his tendrils the same moment he slipped his spit-covered finger into my ass. I choked on air, doubling over with a groan as I immediately unloaded down his throat.

BY STELLARIA!

Micah clenched around me, his cries muffled by my pulsing cock as he spilled across the rooftop with a near-violent shudder of his own. Terrified I was truly choking him, I withdrew my tendrils from his ass, yanked him off me by the hair, and wrenched open his mouth with my hands, checking for blockages.

He laughed, batting me away and using the back of his hand to wipe the overflow of cum from his chin. “Calm down, Space Daddy! I’m fine. Ya boy knew what he was in for with that sneaky finger… Buuuut it didn’t seem like you minded, hmm?”

I huffed as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Of course, I didn’t mind, Micah. I like you being inside me…”

Fuck.

I want his tendrils inside me…

“Yeah, you do.” Micah stood and straddled my lap, his spent cock smearing cum on my still-heaving abs as he licked his way into my mouth. “Because your ass belongs to me too.”

Oh, no…

It no longer seemed to matter what I thought I wanted, because my tendrils were now wrapping around my mate’s mechanical ones of their own accord—desperate to combine my essence with his.

Hesitantly surrendering to the situation, I pulled him closer, wrapping us both in a cocoon of starry light while my resonance hummed in approval of our physical connection.

I am in so much trouble.