Grace Goodwin - Mating Fever

He was mine. He had to be mine.

The beast worked me with his tongue until I couldn’t think, my pussy so wet and swollen that I actually ached there, my pulse moving through me like a blowtorch. He was big and powerful, definitely one dominant male, but I had the power here. Only I could tame his beast. He would be mine forever. Forever. And he needed me, needed me to soothe his beast. My body, my acceptance, was crucial to his very survival.

He stood, cupped my breasts, played with them. I reveled in the feel of his calloused touch. He wasn’t gentle. No, his thumbs and forefingers tweaked my already tight tips, bringing about a delicious moan and the arching of my back.

Gripping behind my knee, he lifted me up so our bodies were aligned. I no longer felt the floor beneath my bare feet; I was supported between his heated body and the cool wall.

“Mate,” he growled, running his tongue along my collarbone, tasting me. Marking me.

“You’re mine. All mine,” I replied.

When he slid the head of his cock through my slick folds, perhaps to test my readiness, I whimpered. “Yes. Do it.”

“Mine.”

Oh yes. I needed him to fill me up. God, was he trying to kill me with lust? “Mine. Mine. Mine. You’re mine.”

“Beg,” his growl was nothing less than an order.

My eyes flew open to find him watching me intently, even lost in the throes of mating fever, his beast wanted to dominate me, force me to surrender. And fuck me, if that didn’t make me hotter. I couldn’t catch my breath. My heart was going to burst from behind my rib cage and explode like a firework.

“Please,” I breathed when his cock settled at my eager entrance.

“Mine ’til death.”

Those were heavy words. Like marriage vows, but insanely more serious. There was no annulment between mates, no divorce. This was a bond on an elemental level. I knew that by fucking him I was more than just sating the man. As he said, I was soothing his beast. He would be bound to me forever, a possessive, arrogant, protective, dominant alpha male. I could recite dozens of reasons I should turn him away, refuse his claim, choose someone else.

But I wanted him. Only him. I loved the demanding, dominant lover. I wanted him fucking me so hard I wouldn’t remember my own name. I didn’t want to think, I wanted to feel. I didn’t want to worry about taking care of myself. For once in my life, I was going to give up control. I was going to let him take care of me. I was going to submit.

My body melted at the thought. Yes. I needed him to take control, to force my mind to stop whirring and churning, just to let me feel.

“Fill me up. Please.” I shifted my hips and had him slide into me about an inch. Just that little bit opened me, stretched me. I knew having that entire cock inside me would almost split me open. I should be running away, not settling myself on him further.

“Now,” I said, my hands in fists above the cuffs. I was spread before him like a feast. “Now,” I repeated and cried out when he slid all the way in one long, smooth, hard stroke.

“Mine,” he growled.

I threw my head back as he stretched me open. The pleasure-pain triggered my first orgasm as he stared down into my eyes like a hunter, watching me, holding my gaze as my pussy clamped down on him like a fist, pulsing and gripping him as my entire body shook.

God. More. I needed more… Pulling out, he slammed deep in one hard thrust and my back hit the wall.

“Miss Simmons.” I heard a woman’s voice coming from far away, but ignored it as my beast filled me up with a harsh growl.

Yes, it was so good. I loved his cock. Needed it. He pulled back, filled me again…yes!

“Miss Simmons!” That voice again. Insistent. Exasperated. Whoever she was, couldn’t she see I was a bit busy here?

I shook my head, focused on feeling the wall at my back, huge Atlan hands on my hips, his cock between my thighs. The sharp pinch of the cuffs forcing my body to take what he gave me, to take the pleasure, the thrill of danger that I felt placing my body under his command. Of being his. Totally. Completely. His.

His giant cock withdrew. Thrust deep. God. So big. So hard. An edge of pain that I loved.

“Megan?” That woman’s voice again, sounding irritated this time. I ignored her. I didn’t want her. I wanted him. His cock. His huge hands. His heat.

“Megan! Soldier, snap out of it!”

Oh, the voice was getting bitchy now, but I didn’t care. I shook my head and bit my lip as my mate fucked me hard. I was going to come again. God, I was so close—

“Prepare the neural stimulant. She’s not coming out of the testing.”

Testing?

That one word triggered a memory. The doctor. The ship. Once my mind started down that slippery slope, the rest faded. He faded. I tried to hold on to him, onto the pleasure, but the feelings drifted from my mind like sand being carried away by a windstorm. I opened my eyes, blinked. There was no sexy alpha male fucking me up against a wall like I was his favorite treat. There was no male at all.

Which pretty much summed up my life lately. At least in the sex department. I was surrounded by men on the battleship, thousands of them. But I hadn’t had sex in over a year, and my body was not satisfied with the small taste I’d just been given. I wanted more. Which was just my luck, because I wasn’t going to be getting any action. Not for a few more days at least.

“Oh, good.” The woman’s voice belonged to Doctor Moor. I recognized her dark brown hair and kind face hovering over me. She was an Atlan female, which meant she looked human, mostly, except she was well over six feet tall with shoulders broader than most football players. The Atlan Warlords were big men, so I wasn’t surprised that the women were sized to match. She was dressed in the usual green doctor’s uniform, her hair cut short in a pixie style that made her big brown eyes practically jump out of her face. She was gorgeous. But more importantly, she was kind. Which was why I’d come to her for the Interstellar Brides Program testing. I was not about to let one of the Prillon doctors loom over me while I was having an intense sexual experience dream, possibly involving one of their kin.

No way. Not happening. Doctor Moor suited me just fine. And so had that dream.

Looking around, I recognized the dark green stripes lining the walls, the exam chairs that looked like the ones I used to sit in at the dentist’s office when I was a kid. Lying here, I felt small. These things were built to hold huge alien warriors, Atlans and Prillons being the biggest, most close to seven feet tall. And in beast mode? The Atlans topped out at eight or nine feet, like the Incredible Hulk minus the green skin. They were huge, brutally efficient killers, and sexy as hell. At least to me. Nothing made me happier than seeing a battalion of Atlan Warlords swarm the battlefield around me and literally rip enemy Hive soldiers in half with their bare hands.

So I had a wee bit of a violent nature. I’d made peace with that side of myself a long time ago when I joined the Army. Not everyone was cut out for flower garlands and peace protests. No one in my family, at least. But I was more than willing to fight and die to protect those who were. Put a gun, or an ion blaster, in my hand and turn me loose on anything evil. Terrorists on Earth. Hive drones in space. They were all the same to me. Evil was evil. Fighting them made me feel powerful. Made me feel like part of the family. My dad and both my brothers went into the military. Therefore, I went into the military, even though I was a girl. A half-black, half-Irish mutt from Boston.

I could pull the trigger on my rifle just fine.

I was also the only one who’d transferred from the Earth army to join the Coalition Fleet. Not that it made a difference to my mother. I’d fought the Hive for almost two years now—my term was almost up—and seen some seriously insane shit. I wasn’t a weak girl. I was a powerful woman who not only stood up to the Hive, but baited them, trapped them. Killed them. Killed their leaders. Sneaked behind enemy lines and lured the Integration Units away from their protective Hive Soldiers and Scouting units. We’d been targeting the Integration Units, the Hive responsible for torturing and assimilating their captives into the Hive collective mind, for months. But now I had bigger fish to fry. Top Secret fish.