Grace Goodwin - His Virgin Mate

I swallowed, then whimpered again when he nuzzled my ear, lightly nipped the lobe. His hands wandered from the small of my back to cup my ass, his thumb stroking over the sensitive mark on my hip. My legs nearly collapsed as shockwaves of desire made me tremble. I was naked, completely naked in his arms, and his rough clothing brushed against my sensitive skin like sandpaper. My nipples pebbled and I moaned, leaning my head back to give him better access to my neck. I’d never done that before either, but I would give this man who called me mate anything. Everything.

“I never wanted anyone before.” Sad, but true. I’d never felt like his. Hot and wet and achy.

“Good,” he whispered. “You’re mine, and I don’t share.”

That was just fine with me. Closing my eyes, I reached for him, trying to bury my hands in his hair and pull him closer. But as hard as I tried, I couldn’t seem to find a grip. It was like he faded, my hands closing around empty air.

He pulled back and I felt cold. Alone.

“Come back,” I pleaded.

“You are a virgin?” he asked. While he no longer touched me, I heard the need in his voice. I’d made him sound that way. Me!

“Yes.” I nodded my head and my hair fell over my cheek. I heard tears in my voice, not sad or angry tears, but love and happiness filled this body so full it hurt. Somehow, I knew him, knew he was mine. Somehow, I knew he loved me, really, really loved me. The tears were like my heart leaking onto my face.

“Do you want me to be your first?” I could no longer see him, but his voice whispered over me from right behind my ear.

“Yes.”

“Will you accept my claim? And claim me as your mate in return? Forever?”

“Yes,” I repeated. I didn’t know him, but somehow, this body did. I felt like I was someone else, someone magical and powerful, someone not so afraid of being a failure in bed. If he made me feel this good from just a kiss, what would it be like when he touched me in earnest? What would it feel like to have his hard, hot body, his skin, pressed to mine? His cock inside me? His mouth claiming mine as he thrust into me slowly, taking his time, our hands entwined.

Every romantic notion I’d ever had was flooding my mind and I knew he’d give them to me. He was the one. He was going to make me happy. So happy.

“Dream of me.” His voice faded to little more than a whisper and I tried to hold on, but the dream slipped away like water through my fingers.

Dream of me.

My eyes opened then and I took in my surroundings, blinking. It took a few moments for my brain to kick back in gear, to realize none of it hadn’t been real. The man. The kiss. Nothing.

My cheeks were wet, and I realized I’d actually been crying. Now they fell for a different reason. Loss. I was bereft. Empty. Back to my cold, calm center that so far, nothing had breached. Nothing but him.

I was in the Interstellar Brides Processing center. The testing room was small, utilitarian, with a table and chairs, looking more like a drab doctor’s exam room than a space-age matching facility. It was the testing unit I sat in that stirred my memory. My wrists were restrained to the metal arms of a chair not much different than the one I sat in at the dentist.

Still, the restraints bothered me. I knew women convicts could volunteer to be brides. Perhaps the restraints were required since they were prisoners when they arrived. Maybe they tried to break free from here. Maybe, they were just violent or mean and the testing program didn’t want to take any chances.

But I wasn’t a convict. Me? I hadn’t even stolen a pack of gum from the corner store in junior high like my stupid friends. I didn’t cheat on tests or lie to my mother. I was boring and sad and pathetic and so lonely I could barely function. The warden had said the cuffs were for my safety. When she strapped me in, I worried about how dangerous the testing would be. But then she walked away from me with a smile and ran her finger over that tablet and I remembered nothing else.

That dream wasn’t dangerous. Dangerous to my virginity, maybe. My ovaries were certainly awake now.

I shimmied in the curved seat, but I wasn’t going anywhere. It was curved and angled back as if I were going to get a cavity filled, not be matched to an alien mate.

“Are you okay, Alexis?”

Thankfully, the warden had her name on her uniform to help me remember. Egara. She was quite nice, especially considering the Interstellar Brides Program was so streamlined and efficient. Even a tad militaristic. But she’d eased my mind, made me feel good about my decision to be tested. The ads I’d seen on TV promoting the program showed women happily mated to aliens from other planets. The love on their faces—and the obvious well-fucked glow about them—had piqued my interest, but I hadn’t done anything about it. Until now. Until I had absolutely nothing left to lose.

Now, I was ready. My dad was dead, my mom had been gone for two years and my Golden Retriever, Rosie, got freaking bone cancer a week after my dad passed and I lost her, too. My best friend since I was eleven, that dog listened to more crying and horrible pop music than any animal ever. But she’d stayed by my side, slept in my bed when I was home, and kept me company at my dad’s bedside when no one else was around.

I loved that dog. I loved my parents, too. But they were all gone now. Everything was gone but the big rambling house I couldn’t stand to be in. The yard was huge, the house a four-bedroom monster I didn’t want to keep. Being in that house, looking at the pictures on the walls, the furniture, the smells…

Being there felt like being in a shrine to my dead parents, and I just couldn’t do it anymore. So I sold it, put the money in a trust for my cousin’s new baby girl, rented a car and drove to Miami. Three days from Denver. I’d barely slept. Eaten even less.

I felt empty. Totally empty. Until now. Until that dream. And the tears just kept coming, like a silently leaking faucet. That man made me feel . He made me want. Hunger. Lust. That girl in the dream was so unlike me. She was full of hope and love, and had joy bubbling in her veins like fizzy candy under her tongue.

I wanted that. I wanted to feel like that.

“Miss Lopez? Can you hear me?”

I blinked at the warden, clearing the cobwebs from my thoughts. Those thoughts were for the past, the tangled, twisted, painful past that I was leaving behind. Today. Right now.

“Yes, I’m all right. That was fast.” It seemed like just a minute ago I settled into the chair in my drab hospital-style gown with the Interstellar Brides Program logo printed all over it.

“Yes, it was,” she replied. I heard the surprise in her tone and I frowned, felt dread settle in my stomach.

No guy had ever made me feel a tenth of what I’d felt in that dream. I’d never had the hots for a guy on Earth. Ever. I’d gone to the doctor about a year ago to find out if I had a hormonal imbalance or something, but she’d just smiled, looked at my bloodwork and told me everything was perfectly normal. She said there was nothing wrong with my body. I was healthy as could be.

She’d even suggested I visit a counselor of some kind. A therapist. Then she’d started asking me about my papa and uncles and I’d shut her up and gotten the hell out of there.

I didn’t have secrets like that in my past. Even if I had, and I had friends who had suffered abuse and rape, they weren’t like me. They worked through their past, found a way to be in relationships. They, at least, wanted to try.

Me? No. There was definitely something wrong with me. Hank had called me frigid when I pushed away his advances last year. Of course, he was handsy and smelled of garlic. Robert had said I was a prude, not interested in giving him a BJ after our second date, payment, he’d said, for taking me out to dinner. Twice.