Mating Fever (Interstellar Brides Book 10)

By: Grace Goodwin

Interstellar Brides Program, Book 10

Chapter One

Megan Simmons, Medical Station, Battleship Karter, Sector 437

I was being kissed. And carried. Literally lifted off my feet and a hot, very insistent mouth was on mine. We were moving but I didn’t know to where. I didn’t care. I just wanted to be kissed.

Hot. Deep. Lush. My body responded instantly. My pussy became wet, my nipples hardened when a growl rumbled deep in his chest. I felt it as much as heard the carnal sound.

All at once, I was pushed against a wall and I felt every hard inch of him pressing into me. He was big. So big that I felt the thick outline of his cock pressing high against my belly.

“Mine,” he said, his voice a harsh rasp. His lips only lifted enough for him to breathe that one word, but I felt it all the way to my toes.

Yes. I had no problem agreeing with that. I had no idea who this guy was or why he was kissing me, but I didn’t care. I wanted him with a desperation I’d never known.

Through our clothes I felt his heat. It was as if he had a fever, his body raging with a need for me that all but consumed him, turned him into something dark and primitive.

“Yes, yours,” I whispered.

His hands slid down my body, down my bare body. Wait. I was naked. He was dressed. I should stop him, but why? It felt too damn good.

I didn’t need my clothes. I needed him to remove his.

He stepped back and I was able to see he wore the uniform of a Coalition fighter, and he filled it out so beautifully. I couldn’t, though, see his face. Why? Why couldn’t I see who was making me so needy?

His hands went to his pants, opened them and pulled out his cock. Whoa, now that was a monster cock. Long and thick with a broad head, I licked my lips with an eagerness to taste him.

What the hell was wrong with me? I didn’t salivate after a stranger’s cock.

Until now.

“Mine.” There was that one word, witty dialogue again, but my body responded as if he’d just whispered a hundred and one erotic, naughty deeds he was going to do to me. He reached for my wrists, lifted my hands to his lips where he kissed the metal I now noticed circled my wrists.

Atlan mating cuffs.

Holy shit.

Fascinated, I stared as he traced the intricate design chiseled into the metal with his tongue. I couldn’t look away from the way the metal about my wrists glinted in the light. Gold and silver tones combined to make beautiful, wide bracelets. I’d seen Atlan mating cuffs before, knew that if I turned my attention to his wrists, he would be wearing a matching pair. They felt far heavier than I’d ever imagined, significant. He acted as if they were. His body curled over mine, so possessive, as if I truly belonged to him. He kissed the palms of my hands and I felt an amazing sense of power rush through me as this giant beast of a man worshipped my skin, kissed me with a featherlight touch as if I were fragile china.

As a woman, I should be offended by his blatant claim. I was a battle-hardened warrior and could take care of myself. But this…this…gentle giant was unmaking me.

My body quivered like a plucked guitar string and I closed my eyes as he raised my hands above my head. Somehow I knew what was coming, knew there was a hook in the wall above my head, knew that if I let him raise my hands, I’d be bound, trapped.

Instead of running, screaming, kicking, demanding to be freed, I lifted my arms and thrust out my chest, eager for the roughness of his tongue on my nipples. This body was his. He could have me as long as he put that perfect cock inside me.

With my hands locked above me, he stepped back and stripped out of his pants. Naked and glorious, he was huge, his eyes peering at me through the darkness with a strange animal heat. His large hand gripped the base of his cock and he began to stroke up and down the length, bringing about a shiny pearl of fluid from the slit at the tip. I couldn’t miss the matching cuffs about his own wrists below the cut of his uniform jacket. “Mine. Mate.”

I watched as he continued to stroke himself. “That cock is mine, beast. Give it to me.”

Whoa! Where had that sassy wench come from? I seemed to have no control over this body, or this sharp tongue, but the beast before me didn’t seem to mind. He chuckled before dropping to his knees. Before I could blink, he’d lifted my thighs to rest on his shoulders and his tongue was inside me.

“Yes!” I locked my ankles behind his head and held him to me. The shudder that moved through his powerful frame made me groan. His mouth was hot, so hot. But I wanted more. I needed him inside me, stretching me open, filling me up.

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.

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