Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

The entrance to the hunting cave is nearly invisible. Golden vines twine over the leather door flap, nearly obscuring it from view.

Sweat drips off my brow. The humidity of the jungle is so different from the dusty deserts of this planet. I find it hard to believe these two ecosystems exist so close to each other.

Drohako removes the saddle bags from Grasyi and sets them near the rocky wall of the cave.

Pushing through the saffron-colored brush, I notice the sweat on my arms mingling with the blood of the fallen alien attacker.

I took someone's life, extinguishing it in a single act. A full-fucking-grown Volkroth warrior.

And he fucking deserved it.

I think about my life before, how I wouldn't be able to do what I had just done. But things are different now. I love an alien barbarian, I'm carrying his child, and we've run away from what little civilization exists on this planet.

I should feel worse about murdering someone, shouldn ' t I?

Drohako's hand caresses along the messy skin of my arm .

"Your first kill?" he asks, although I can tell that he already knows the answer when I nod. "You are strong, you protected our family—wear his blood with honor."

Our family.

I push my way through the overgrowth on the door and into the cave.

As the leather flap snaps free from the grasping vines, dirt sprays and I cough, my lungs assaulted by the dust.

The hunting cave is even more primitive than I expected. Unlike where we've fled from, there are no comforts. No furs line the sleeping space, the fire pit is tiny, and a thick layer of dust coats everything.

"You don't get to do much hunting, do you?" I ask with a sarcastic smile.

"Hunting seasons are short, especially in spawning years." He shrugs, pushing past me.

Drohako removes the incubation pod from his satchel as if it was the most fragile thing in the world. His thick fingers struggle to hold the tech just barely bigger than a gallon of milk.

"Hard to think you were ever that small." I sigh as I flop down and pat my slightly swollen belly. "I feel like I can't even feel him in there, you know?"

A panicked look flashes across his purple face.

"I mean, he's in there, but I thought it would feel different—like a parasite."

My alien frowns, and I get that my choice of words has me sounding less than enthused.

"What I mean is, it doesn't feel wrong—it feels natural, like it was meant to be."

When I look back up at my mate's face, his gaze softens.

"It's fate," he tells me. "Come, the pod needs a blood sample to activate. "

He reaches his scarred hand out to me, pulling me to standing. When he taps a button along the incubation pod's side, a robotic arm pops out.

"It's strange Volkroth's births are so high tech, isn't it? Because, well…" I gesture broadly to our surroundings. The primitive cave isn't really where I would expect the Volkroth to live after seeing this little space-age orb of white metal and glass.

"We choose to live in the ways of our ancestors—but we've adapted to breed without female Volkroth, and it's mostly thanks to this tech." He keeps talking even after the little robot arm pokes my finger with a quickly appearing needle.

"Ouch!" I yelp as Drohako grabs my hand to prevent it from recoiling from the machine.

"Still, it'll be over in a second," he mutters as he watches the collection tube meet the small droplet of blood welling on my fingertip. With a whoosh, the machine sucks the sanguine fluid away.

As the blood enters the pod, it glows with an orange light. The intensity pulses like a heartbeat.

"Done. That wasn't so bad, now was it, my tiny warrior?" His face is filled with pride as he stares down at my blood-covered body.

"Well, no, but?—"

He interrupts my words by sucking my finger into his mouth, his rough tongue licking the needle's wound.

"I promised you pleasure earlier," he growls as my finger drops from his lips. The sound of his voice is making my pussy quickly slicker, as if on his command.

When his hand drifts lower, skirting the hem of my wrap, I grab his wrist.

"Stop."

Maybe I'm still full of adrenaline from the attack, or maybe this feeling has always been under the surface—but I want to be in control for the first time in my life.

"Mate?" His body is frozen, maybe shocked by my command.

"I think I'd like to call the shots this time," I whisper to my barbarian.

"That's new." Drohako cocks an eyebrow. The muscles of his body relax slightly, but his eyes bore into me with a new intensity. "So, what do you want?"

"I want you to listen, but don't worry—you'll enjoy yourself if you do. Will you be a good boy for me?"

His pupils dilate, and he looks like he can taste colors as he gazes at me with hooded eyes.

"If that's what my mates wants, a good boy is what she'll get."

"I need something comfortable to lie down on," I say with an unpracticed coolness that surprises us both.

Drohako swiftly steps past me, pushing the leather flap out of his way. He grabs the saddlebags from outside. Once back indoors, he kicks some dead leaves and twigs away, clearing a spot on the dirt floor.

He looks at me with a pleased smile as he unrolls a few of the thick yellow furs from our former home.

"This will do." I shrug off my makeshift clothing, already feeling one hundred percent better than before. There's something so natural about wearing nothing at all around Drohako, and that makes my heart sing.

His gaze on my naked body is that of a predator's, hungry and all-consuming. I lie down slowly, deliberately, spreading my legs so he can take in the view.

He inhales sharply and pushes the heel of his hand down over his loincloth, onto his quickly hardening bulge.

"Who said you could touch yourself?" I drawl as my finger traces up my slick lips. "I don't think I gave you permission."

"I thought this was supposed to be fun." He scowls, clenching his fists at his sides. I don't let the fact that he's still listening to me go unnoticed.

"It will be, because the anticipation is part of the pleasure."

Whatever's possessed me to be so bold, I love it. Could it be that letting myself be used like I've always wanted has me finding some new confidence? Have I found my power through being submissive?

I rub small circles over my clit. Drohako's breath catches as he watches me work.

"I want you to want me, to feel every pang of desire."

I twist my nipple with my free hand, not even attempting to stifle the moan that falls from my lips.

"Can I touch you if I can't touch myself?" His voice is needier than I've ever heard it before.

"Are you uncomfortable? Does my having the control cause you this agony?" I ask, dipping my fingers into my opening and thrusting deep. "Don't you wish it was your cocks plunging inside me?"

"Is torture your idea of fun? Does the Volkroth babe inside of you harden your heart like a barbarian?" Despite his suffering, he smiles. His eyes hold a menacing glint.

"Seeing you squirm is fucking delicious, a reward all in itself." I pick up my pace, and throbbing need ebbs through my core. "Ask me for what you want."

Drohako licks his lips, stepping closer.

"I want to taste you," he growls.

"Then crawl and beg me for the honor. Prove to me you want it."

Drohako, the mighty alien warrior that he is, drops to his knees with a thud. He rakes his nails over the dirt floor, pushing his glorious ass high. Each scrape of his fingers over the ground sends shivers up my spine.

When he finally reaches me, he presses his lips against my trembling skin, worshipping every inch of me with fervent kisses. I moan in ecstasy as he continues to worship at the altar of my pleasure. His tongue laps up my honey, teetering me on the edge of bliss.

We're both consumed by our primal desires, oblivious to the world around us, fueled by an insatiable hunger for each other's bodies.

"Make me come, mate," I hiss as I buck my hips, threading my fingers through his coarse hair and wrapping them around his horns.

Drohako probes his fingers into me, spreading me wide with his hands alone. When he sucks on my clit, my core pulses sharply and I shatter.

My legs attempt the snap shut over his ears, but he pushes them open. His tongue is unrelenting.

"Stop!" My voice is hoarse as I yell.

Despite his history of loving my overstimulation, he does. With just one word from me, he immediately ceases his ministrations. He's under my command, after all.

"You've done such a good job, you deserve a reward?—"

"Serving you, mate, is enough." He pulls himself up until his strong jaw rests on my stomach. His face glistens with my juices.

He brings his hand to either side of my hips, kissing the small swell on my stomach. He stares adoringly at the pooch and the promise that lies within.