Page 34 of The Commander

Bastian returned to the bed he shared with his mate and curled around her small, naked body.

“Oh, cold,” she murmured sleepily, the way she did every time he returned to bed.

At first, it hadn’t bothered her that he slept so much less than she did. He didn’t need it. She didn’t notice. Her biggest complaint when he left their bed was that he took most of the heat with him and he always returned with the cold.

Kitten adapted to their underground life with ease, though he worried about risks to her human physiology. Other subterranean humans hadn’t fared so well, succumbing to respiratory problems, anemia, or the sheer madness waiting for them in the sustained darkness. He monitored Kitten’s health obsessively. So far, she had thrived. He suspected her alien compatibility played a role.

Kitten filled the gaps in his knowledge without the connection to the P.I. with lessons learned from her Dad. She knew how to trap, forage, identify safe mushrooms, and locate hidden food caches. Even before the planet’s devastation, humans had lived off the grid, escaping their governments. Her father had prepared her to survive.

She knew how to find what those humans left behind. Not that Bastian hesitated to take what he needed from others they encountered in the rolling, verdant hills of Old Kentucky.

It took months before he felt like their shelter was safe. Longer before he was satisfied with the bed he built her. She’d told him it looked like a nest. She was correct. A prime battler always prepared a nest for his mate and their young. The finished structure was plenty big for two people and two sons. He could avoid touching her if he wished. He didn’t wish.

It had walls and a woven roof, held all the heat, and could be completely closed in. While it made more sense to build such a thing outside, in a tree somewhere, he hadn’t resisted the urge to find a way to make it inside the old foreman’s lodge. It took up half the room, but he didn’t care. Once Kitten became more tired with pregnancy, she didn’t care either.

She hissed as he fit himself around her, his air-cooled skin caressing her sleep warmed softness. One arm under her shoulders, curled around to fit over her breasts, the other over her belly, his legs pulled up under hers, her sweet round ass cradled in the curve of his lap.

He fit a leg between hers. She was wet.

Pregnancy was so fucking fun.

Lifting her leg just a little, he released his cock, which slid into the perfect position between her legs, curving with the shape of her body. His fully extended cock was long enough that he could tickle her clit with the nob at the end, thick enough that she could ride him “like a fire hose,” she’d once admitted out loud.

They’d had a long talk about his biology, and hers, after she caught with child and every possible worry known to mankind had to be carefully processed, questioned and answered, before she could accept that everything would be just as it should be.

“Bastian. Tired,” she moaned, her hips moving away in a token resistance.

“But you’re so sweet and good like this, Kitten. You give my cock such a warm wet place to rest,” he growled the words to her, as he imagined a man might stroke a cat.

“Rest.” A whine crept into her voice.

“In a bit. I’m just trying to get comfortable.”

“Bastian.” She said his name like a protest. One of his favorite sounds.

“Show me how good you can be.” He played with her nipple, pinching the tip and tugging until her hips shimmied with her upper body as if trying to escape.

His cock slid deeper into the haven between her thighs, granting intimate access. Licking up her neck to her cheek, he pressed his teeth against the soft skin, a warning to hold still. “Isn’t that nice now? Don’t you like that?”

A pulsing bump against the peak of her clit showed her how nice he intended to be.

He knew she loved to be gently touched there with any kind of repetitive gentleness.

She arched, accepting the touch. “Okay. There.”

He repeated the action until her breathing and heart rate increased. The sound of their combined fluids was music to his ears.

“Like this?” he asked.

“You know,” she answered, her breath hitching.

He did know. But he didn’t want her to come yet. Her impatience always amused him; Kitten rushed towards her climax as if it could disappear, ever determined to claim the ending as her own.

Her need to hurry reminded him to linger, draw out every morsel of contact between their bodies and their bond. All his time with her was a celebration that he wanted to imprint on his memory.

He slowed his thrusts, making them shallow, missing her clit.

“Bastian.”

He flicked at her nipple. “Yes?”

She made kitten noises, high, breathy squeaks that sent electric bursts down his nerve endings.

“Don’t. Please.”

Her hands closed over his, pushing his hold deeper, mounding her breasts under his palms until he knew it hurt. She preferred that to the delicately sharp touches to her nipples that made her core tighten every time he did it. He’d relentlessly used the connection between the two since discovering it.

“Don’t? But I like your nipples. You don’t want me to stop, do you?” he purred the question as he again scraped a pointed tip of her nipple, timing it with a tap of his cock where she wanted it. Pain, pleasure. And perfect repetition.

“I can’t. Sensitive.” she whimpered.

She always said that. But she could. He loved how sensitive she’d become. It really was rather irresistible.

Slow and easy, his cock slid between her legs. Wet from her pregnancy, extra swollen and perfectly responsive to everything he did. Wet from the last time he’d released his cum inside her. He glided his cock between her legs with excruciating slowness, his vision flickering as the decadent feelings threatened to overwhelm him.

A low, satisfied rumble vibrated in his chest. “Yes. Just this Kitten. You feel so fucking good.”

“Please, Bastian,” Cara urged, her breath coming in short gasps. Her hips bucked, attempting to draw him deeper, to increase the pressure. “Put it there.”

“Not yet, pet. Not yet.” Back and forth. She drenched him. He’d had no idea that their fluids would be so fun that her lack of receptors didn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy the feel of her velvety skin. There were no sensory hairs on his cock, he was just one long, thick organ of sensation.

“Yes. Now.” She opened her legs and tried to scoot back against him.

He chuckled, his mouth in the curve between her shoulder and her neck, teeth grazing her skin, leaving a trail of shivers in the wake of his mouth with the promise of his claim. She’d begun to scar from all the tiny bites but neither of them regretted it. She was a well used Sarrian mate. “Ah, ah, darling. Not yet. I’m enjoying this. Don’t you like my cock? Should I just let you sleep?”

“Need to come.” She emitted the saddest moan he’d ever heard.

“I’ll let you, I promise. Doesn’t this feel good? Am I not making you feel good?” He knew he was being gentle, but it was always good to check.

“Asked nicely.” The words carried a distinct pout.

“You did ask nicely. But that’s not quite what I wanted to hear.”

“Oh, c’mon,” she complained, squirming to escape his grip. If he relented, she would eagerly climb on top, riding him to find her release. But they had shared that intimacy once today; he craved something different now.

With his palm against her belly, he drew her closer, trapping her against the liquid pleasure. “We’ve just started. Let me savor this. My cock misses your pussy.”

She half-laughed, half-groaned at his silly words. “You were just here. Don’t tease.”

He relished that his dirty talk amused and aroused her. She couldn’t mask the physical response that was revealed in their play, even if she wanted to.

“Kitten is so eager and lovely this way.” His skin had warmed again, and now she was sweating from the heat. He inhaled the release of fresh scent from her pores, lapping it up, like a sweet.

“Bastian,” His name was a little mew on her lips.

“You know I love to hear you beg, Cara.” He opened his hand, tested the round fullness of her breasts before drawing his claws back to the peak once again, pulling until she twitched and cried out. Between them his cock throbbed with involuntary vibrations that signaled his own need to release starting up.

She moved an arm, so he tightened his hold, bringing his hand up and lightly holding her throat. He wouldn’t risk squeezing her airways, not while she carried his child, but his hand was plenty large enough to hold her still. “What are you doing, Kitten? Aren’t you comfortable?” He asked in feigned concern.

He knew exactly what she was doing. She was trying to move her arm so that she could reach down and grab hold of his cock and make him do what she wanted.

“Need to come.”

“You’re always so impatient. Don’t you want me to enjoy my beautiful mate?” He gently squeezed her belly, reaching down with his fingers close to the top of her mound.

He craved every moment of this intimacy. He wanted it on his skin at all times. To breathe her into every cell and hold her there.

With pregnancy often leaving her sleepy and vulnerable, she spent more time naked in their bed. He’d taken days to craft a snug alcove sanctuary for her where he could explore all her exquisite human features—features she insisted on hiding under layers of clothing when she wasn’t in bed.

She hadn’t quickened with a child until after their home was secure. Not until after she started sleeping longer, regular human hours. Not until he’d finished building the nest. And not until after he raided a wanker camp and stole all their food stores, including things she called high-grade chocolate and nectar-of-the-gods-coffee.

This was their world; he relished every forbidden touch and couldn’t get enough of touching her.

“How is our nestling today, humm? How does our little battler feel?” He rubbed a circle over the spot where his child grew.

“She’s fine.” She tried to push him down farther, deeper, and make him touch her in her favorite spot.

“He’s fine, you mean.”

“She wants you to make her mama come so we can go back to sleep.”

Bastian chuckled. “Does he?”

The baby nestled inside her was smaller than an apple seed, blissfully unaware of their tender exchanges. He expected that they would welcome a male protector into their lives before a female successor after the design of his species.

It had taken Kitten a bit to accept the idea of pregnancy. She’d been terrified of bringing such innocence into their harsh world. They would not be able to produce more than four children if they managed more than two. His kind did not breed as her kind did. “Stop teasing.” She pushed at his hands more, arched her back, and squeezed her legs together to create a tight tunnel between her legs.

“Doesn’t it feel good? Do you want me to stop?”

“No, don’t stop.”

“Then I need you to say the words.”

“Oh, god, no, don’t make me.” He could hear and feel the blush of embarrassed shame color her all up, along with a fresh drench of arousal. He knew her core tightened, too. Her love-hate relationship with certain words had amazing results in her body.

“I won’t make you do anything, Kitten. You are my mate. You have a will of your own.”

“But I need to come.” She argued, pulsing her hips, digging her nails into the back of his hand.

He liked that. Her need built his, fed his, sending snaps of heat down his spine and forcing them out his cock so that he spurted more arousal fluid. The opening where his frillium came out burned with the most pleasant sensation.

He grunted with the push. “I can do this for hours.”

“Please, can’t take it. I’m gonna die.”

“What a pretty liar.” The build of her need, her erratic, helpless movements, the scent of their bodies, the exquisite feel of her, was a powerful infection.

She turned her head to the side, licked at his skin, sucked, bit down when he twisted her poor, abused nipple. “Oh, no. I can’t. Just a little faster. A little deeper. Make me come.”

“Who’s so bossy now? Tell me what I want to hear. You’re doing really well, pet. I know you can do it. You can be good for me, can’t you?” Back and forth, his cock moved between her legs, rubbing wet, gorgeous friction that she tried to hump into desperate, deeper, harder touches.

He barely had to move, she didn’t need to move at all, but she couldn’t stop herself. Chasing her orgasm. He licked up the taste of the sweat beading under her chin, on her neck, lashing her with his tongue.

Her breath caught.

“Just say it, Kitten. It’s just words. So easy. Say it and I will give you what you need.”

“Oh god. I’m not that person.”

“But you are. There’s a dirty, little slut inside of you, just waiting to get out.”

“Where did you learn to talk this way? Did they let you watch adult stuff too?”

“Adult stuff? Is that what all that fucking is called?”

“Pornography. You watched pornography.”

“The words that make you come are from human literature. Media. I read them. And I know you like them. Say it. You need to. It will make you feel better.”

“It won’t,” she wailed, yanking at the blankets.

“I want all of you. It makes you so wet. So mewling, needy, and sweet. And I want it. Say it.” He could almost feel the heartbeat in her clit, peaked with her withheld climax.

“You’re terrible,” she cried, resisting him.

“Yes,” he affirmed, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

“Oh, why do you do this?” Her entire body trembled and quaked on the verge, but she couldn’t get there without him.

“I like it when my Kitten meows just for me.” He added incentive, playing with her nipples again, digging his nail into the tip, giving her the sharp edge while his cock thrummed between them, rubbing at her clit over and over.

“Need.”

“I know. This feels very nice. You have such a nice wet pussy for me.”

“Oh, fuck.” She burst out, “Please, can I come, Daddy?”

He sensed the heat of embarrassment wash over her, mingling with a fresh tide of arousal as the muscles all over her body tightened with anticipation.

“Yes, you can, baby.” Thrusting a stiffening cock inside, matching her need, directing his dick to hit where she wanted it most with the perfect amount of force.

She groaned. Loud and low, quivering all over, legs shaking, hands fisting and pulling at whatever she could reach. He could only manage two, three pumps before he became so swollen he couldn’t move and his frillium extended, changing her groan into a scream.

How he fucking loved this. This was joy right here. Life. Had his hearts beat in his body without this woman? He’d told her he couldn’t love her, that he didn’t know how—but if she carried Sarrian DNA, then he now carried a newly formed human heart, and it only beat for her.

Her pleasure expanded until it left her liquified in his arms and sent her right back to sleep, his cock still embedded inside of her.

“Yes, just like that, Kitten,” he murmured, his breath hot against her cascading hair. This was worth it. Worth the weakness of her in his blood, the hope of her in his bones, and the grasping for a future on an alien planet, with all the high-brow houses of Sarria arrayed against them. Worth everything.

He would accept the goddesses breeding program . Anything that would let him keep his mate, and allow him an excuse fuck her as often as he wanted. Make a family. Keep a true and right nest. Hunt. Protect. Guard. Kill all his enemies.

Maybe eat a few of them when his mate wasn’t watching.

Xylos was a true believer. He’d seen it in her mate and her sons. As a female, she might be able to lie, but they could not. He didn’t know if the goddess had planned all of this. That was a big reach into the nothing . But he did know that Sarria had reached its peak. The home world was tumbling down the other side of that peak into an abyss of consequences. He’d seen everything he loved about being Sarrian destroyed, attacked, and disassembled in that damn bug war.

It left him with nothing to live for other than causing problems for Control.

Kitten had taken him. Everything had changed.

Her presence grounded him. He discovered sanctuary not in the strength of teeth and claw, but in the warmth of her body, in the quiet rhythm of their shared breath. The void of duty and conquest that once defined him no longer had any power.

His purpose was here. Tangible. In her. In the life growing within her, a spark in the darkness. He closed his eyes, and the deep rumble in his chest vibrated with contentment.

The End.