Page 14 of The Commander

Returning to the offices, Bastian examined the fallen, wheezing red hats with satisfaction. It took some self-control not to smash each throat under his heel.

The things found with Cara lay in a back room, soaked in grunt slobber. The crotch from a pair of her pants was missing, likely done by his “intelligent” and “well behaved” duty.

Fuckers.

He hunted for anything connected to his mate, stepping over the dying grunts. 56983, lay face down next the base P.I. Bastian yanked the power cord, slapping it across 56983’s muzzle. Glazed eyes shifted, a pained wheeze escaped, nothing more.

Control had really delivered him a batch of shit in the last deployment, hadn’t they? Did every base get the same epic stupidity and lackluster obedience or was it just him?

These hairy miscreants planned betrayal. Perhaps Control embedded orders in their brains. Or they were defective enough to think independently and plan a minor rebellion.

Clearly, the friction he’d created with Control was circling back to him. Bastian had rather hoped that would happen. He had picked at them at every opportunity since leaving the planet. If they ever came for him, he would be happy to oblige a fight. Their fake allegiance to the way of the goddess and their petty family power games would never intimidate him.

But he hadn’t had Kitten then.

One promising step forward in protecting his Kitten was knowing a quarter of the base duty was now dead. He checked on the others who were supposed to be roaming the halls, keeping watch for intruders, and came across the male captured early that morning.

Oh. Oopsie. He’d forgotten the human in there.

One of the red hats was unconscious, slumped next to the door. Bastian kicked it awake before crushing its throat under his bare foot. Opening the door to the repurposed conference room, he saw the trapped human male still alive—naked and shivering on the floor.

Ahhh. That’s right. The heating and ventilation system in this room was broken. Part of the ceiling gaped open, a black hole of temptation. Connected with several other rooms on this side of the building, he knew there was a gap somewhere in the roof letting in fresh air. An escape route if the prisoner was strong enough. They never were, though.

This time the extra air saved what life the human had left, helping circulate the poison. The rebel’s broken leg had swollen to ugly proportions. Bastian heard a wheeze in his every breath. Sounded like he had an issue with his lungs. “Still alive?”

The man glared at him.

“Care to tell me more about those contraband power cells?”

“I don’t want to tell you anything, you big fuck. Go back to where you came from.” He snarled his hate in Bastian’s general direction with swollen, bloodshot eyes.

“I’m considering it, but I’ve found your planet so welcoming.” Bastian baited the man.

“Fuck you. I’m sure you have. My sister couldn’t get enough of blue dick. She lost her mind. I should have killed her.”

“Your sister?” The prisoner’s humanity wasn’t in question—therefore the sister—was a prime battler mate.

That was unexpected. Had Control engineers intentionally chosen this region for a reproduction program? Planted into a young, underdeveloped world, those DNA seeds had slept for more than a thousand years.

“My baby sister. She belonged to the man you murdered, you bluey bastard.” Unhindered vitriol spilled like acid from every word, but Bastian wouldn’t punish the man for it. Yet.

“That must have been years ago.” Bastian didn’t know if Sarrian DNA would override a previous human commitment. Human emotions were a tricky element. Something about this male’s attitude hinted that his sister was better off wherever she was now.

“You expect a man to forget that his only family walked off with a blood sucking alien?” The prisoner broke into a fit of coughing that scrunched up his face and forced him to curl inward on himself, his whole body constricting with the effort.

“Did your sister get a taste of one of my kind? Oh, she must have wanted a decent fuck for once. How else did she manage to walk off with you still here?” Bastian faked a laugh, showing his teeth. This was very interesting and convenient information.

The blood drained from the prisoner’s face as his coughing continued, eyes bulging.

Did this human have something to do with the disappearance of a prime battler and the disconnection of his name day blade? Why had he been left alive to tell tales?

“Do you know the name of the alien?” Bastian asked.

Still coughing, the human’s lips turned a dull gray color. Bastian would be irritated if this source of unexpected information died now. He’d have to have 48001 aid the rebel until there was a better opportunity for a civilized conversation.

Leaving the man to find his next breath, Bastian retraced the evening’s events to make sure he got everything cleared to his liking. He did not want any bit of Kitten left in the building to be examined should Control send an evidence sweep team.

Returning to his apartments, he washed and secured the name day blade. He had questions. Had this belonged to that other prime his captive had mentioned? Who else could it be? What did his mate know?

He’d wasted enough time with the red hats’ nonsense. Clean but still wet, he went to the bed where he’d left Kitten tied, spread eagle. So exhausted she’d fallen asleep, he had a chance to admire his mate in the dimmed lights.

Her hair was garishly bright against her skin. He didn’t understand it. The red came naturally to her, but it didn’t quite match the hair on the other places on her body. She’d taken color out, then put color back with chemicals for no good reason that he could guess. It looked overtly bold and angry against the spotted and white expanse of her milky skin and fragile lines.

Perhaps she had done that to herself to hide how small she was. Delicate. So under fed he could see her ribs. There were scrapes on her elbows and knees, raw marks left behind from his use, bruises, but shockingly, not a single broken bone. Having broken enough human bones to know they snapped like thin wood under his hands, he couldn’t believe she hadn’t harmed herself by attacking him.

He grinned, proud. She had certainly tried.

Releasing the ropes, he carried her with him back into the shower. He’d love a good ion bath for her but would have to make do with dreary soap and water. Soap wouldn’t do a damn thing to help her heal faster, but it would keep the small wounds from getting worse and wipe away the grime.

He had the water set at his favorite cool temperature, thinking to ease her into wakefulness. Holding her in his arms and allowing it to cascade over her back.

She woke up screeching and clawing at the first touch of water. “What the fuck?”

“None of those filthy human words now, Kitten. You will only say fuck if you want to feel my cock pounding into your pussy.” Bastian covered the back of her head with his hand to keep her from banging it against the wall of the narrow space. His bigger palm easily forced her head back, so that she had to look him directly in the eyes when he spoke.

He wasn’t sure she heard him since she was busy kicking and sputtering.

“You don’t put a sleeping person in a freezing shower!” She yowled. Clinging to him, her legs tightened as she lifted herself up, trying to evade the water and pressing her breasts into his chest.

“I do whatever I wish,” he answered her against the lovely curve of her neck.

“Why is it so cold? They have hot water in the town. Why don’t you?”

“Cold? I thought it a pleasant temperature. You like it hotter?” Bastian snuggled his face into the irresistible feel of her skin.

“Yes, Damnit!”

He couldn’t tolerate her constant unruliness. “Cease with that language, Kitten.”

“Stop being such a giant walking dildo and trying to freeze me to death.”

“You have a couple of bruises on your backside, but those will heal in due time. I’m not adverse to adding more.” He squeezed her waist. He liked her strong and spunky, but she was his mate. He wouldn’t accept disrespect.

“You can’t spank me like a child.”

“Lower your voice, Kitten.” He fisted his hand in her hair, tightened his arm at her waist, and pushed her against the wall behind her until the breath was squeezed in her lungs and the mulish twist of her pink lips went lax.

“You damned sasquatch. What is wrong with you?”

Bastian growled her name in warning, “Kitten.”

She froze, finally hearing him.

“Mate, there are any number of things I can do to you to make you listen. Some of them are painful on your body, some of them will be painful on your mind. Would you like me to keep you naked, on a leash, and make you follow me everywhere I go? Would you like the reds to watch that? Your own people? Would you like me to spank you? I have many ways to make you behave that will keep you alive, whole, and mine. And I can make you enjoy some of them, or make you cry with shame.”

“The water is cold,” she tried again, softer and less hostile. Her eyes bounced over his face and her little fists opened and closed on his shoulders, self-conscious.

“This is the temperature that relaxes me. I didn’t think about it being too cold for you. What would you like me to do?”

“Could you warm it up?”

“Isn’t there a nice way you weaker humans ask for that when you don’t get to control a situation?”

She thought about it for long enough, Bastian wondered if she really did not know anything about civilized behavior. Looking so adorably pitiful that he had to rethink some of the possible punishments. Her shining big eyes were expressive and rather perfect. Would he be able to look into them and hurt her with more than a sting to the ass now? He doubted it. But he would lie about that as long as possible.

“I am in charge, Kitten. I am your mate and master. My role in your life is to keep you safe and at my side. You will adjust. Immediately.” She blinked and frowned.

He turned the water colder.

Kitten yelped out, “Please warm up the shower.”

“There you go, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

“You are an alien,” she said, as if that explained her lack of manners.

“Am I? Perhaps you are the alien. Does it matter? Do you think you could leave me if I let you? We are tied, my sweet little pussy cat. Perhaps I need to show you what that means?” He gentled his hold and lowered her.

“You must cleanse yourself of germs your eyes cannot see. The red hats are known to carry e-coli because of their eating habits. I am not sure if you have heard of this, but it is dangerous to humans.” Bastian had a weird impulse to keep talking, to comfort her, to tell her he would make her new life good, to defend his actions. He strangled the impulse to silence.

She sent him a frown that scrunched her eyebrows down but said, “Alright. Give me the soap.”

“Use your nice words, Kitten.”

“My name isn’t Kitten.”

“Your name is what I say it is. Are you going to ask me correctly?”

She didn’t answer. Fighting the bond with her mouth, she couldn’t hide the lack of tension in the muscles under her skin, or the way she opened her hands, hugging him to her instead of scratching and fighting.

“I’ll do it, then. I must make sure you are clean.” She huffed out a breath, frustrated.

Bastian ignored that. Let her have her pique. She was standing still. That was all he needed to be able to run his hands over her slick curves with soap. He took his time, watching her face, forcing her to give in to the urges of the bond under the spray of hot water and delightful caresses.

His hand between her legs, she did more than relax, eyes closing and mouth opening with a moan as he teased her clit. Without the mating frenzy on them, the urgency to finish riding them hard, he could enjoy the way her body responded to pleasure. His lightest touch made her twitch.

The movement shivered through her breasts, and he couldn’t resist lifting her higher between the wall and his chest and putting his mouth to a peak. The damn shower stall was much too small for fucking, but that wouldn’t stop him from enjoying what was his.

It took her longer to reach her peak, but he enjoyed every moment of it, maintaining his self-control. It’d only been a few hours since he’d had his cock in her and her blood in his mouth. He could wait till she’d eaten and gotten the tracker embedded before he had his turn.

He might even interrogate her a second time.

But first, he needed to decide if they would play chase again or not.