Stolen By the Alien by Ashlyn Hawkes

5

Hannah

The bed is rather comfortable, but it’s also unlike any other bed I’ve ever been in. It’s bouncier, foam-er almost, although I can’t tell what material it is made from. It’s only when I stretch from waking from my slumber that I realize that I’m alone.

Omur isn’t here.

But I remain on the spaceship.

At least, that’s where I assume I am.

I’ve been stolen by an alien.

A hot alien.

A sexy alien.

Whose cum tastes like licorice.

Whose cock I want to feel inside me again.

I mean, why not? I haven’t figured out what I want to do yet. Might as well go for round two, right?

Where is he, anyway?

I sit up with a groan and stretch a bit more. Honestly, I feel exhausted yet, which makes me think I didn’t sleep all that long.

Despite my aching muscles, I stand and head toward the door.

“I am not a fool. I have found my mate, and her name is—”

Omur’s outside, nearby. I can hear him, but I can’t hear any other voice. Is someone else on the spaceship with us? Or is he talking to someone else not on board?

“We already departed,” he claims.

That’s a lie. Why would he say that?

“I will not.”

Will not what? I’m so confused.

“I will not live my life without my mate.”

My eyes widen. Someone doesn’t seem happy that I’m his mate. Why is that? This other guy—is it a guy or a girl? In any case, he or she doesn’t want Omur to be with me even though they don’t know me from Eve.

“You would condemn me to a life without my mate? To a life without love?”

Omur’s almost shouting now. He’s seriously upset, and the raw pain in his voice has me wincing. Even if I’m not sure about this whole mating thing, Omur truly believes it, and he’s beside himself at the thought of losing me.

No, not me. Of losing his mate. Maybe he’s wrong, mistaken. Maybe I’m not his mate because he seems to be feeling something, but I don’t. What should I feel toward my mate?

I don’t have one. I don’t.

“What do you have against Earthlings?” Omur asks.

I bristle. I hate that it seems like Omur’s kind has such a terrible attitude toward Earthlings. What did we ever do to them?

“Why do you think Earthlings are weak and dumb?” he asks.

Well, at least he’s sticking up for Earthlings, but still. I’m growing more and more frustrated—not to mention infuriated—by the second.

“You’ve been to Earth, Maestro?” Omur asks.

Hmm. Who is this maestro? Whoever he is—is it a he? This maestro fellow seems to be giving Omur a really hard time, and I, for one, really don’t appreciate that. Not that I truly care about the alien. I mean, I only just met him, and yes, we bumped uglies, but…

I’ve always thought cocks looked kind of a little bit weird, you know? What with their shape and their mushroom heads, but his cock cannot in any way, shape, or form be considered ugly.

“I was just curious,” Omur says smoothly. “My mate was telling me about—”

I’m not his mate. Just what nonsense is he telling this maestro guy?

“Maestro, I—”

This maestro is terrible. He’s not letting Omur say much of anything. It’s a good thing he’s not here because I just might be willing to bust down this door and give him a piece of my mind.

“But why would it be such a travesty? We live to find our mates,” Omur protests.

A pan settles in my chest, and I bite my lower lip. Omur almost sounds like he wants to cry. A big, tough alien like him wants to cry at the notion of… what… abandoning me? Depriving himself of me? Don't these Garrux guys realize that women have dreams and aspirations of their own? I don't need to have a guy in my life. I… I mean, did I even love Luca? Or did I, deep down, realize that he wasn't all in with me? Is that why I refused to move in with him the first thousand times he asked me to? Did I do something to push him into Brea's arms? Nothing can excuse cheating, but maybe I hadn't been emotionally available to Luca.

“No.”

It’s a simple enough word from Omur, but it comes out firm.

“Maestro, please. I… She’s my mate. You cannot do this to me.”

Now, Omur sounds almost frantic, and something about the raw pain in his voice makes my ears burn. He's hurting at the idea of losing me, but he doesn't even know me? I mean, sure, yes, what it feels for his cock to be buried deep inside me, but he doesn't know my mind or my soul. He doesn't know what makes me me.

Honestly, I'm not sure if anyone living does. My parents died a few years ago, shortly after I graduated college. It had been a real tragic occurrence, too, because it could've been avoided. There had been a flood, and they had their house inspected before they returned to it, but some mold had been missed, and months later, they died in their sleep.

“Not if her mind’s wiped,” Omur says.

At least his tone is bitter, but WTF? Who is talking about wiping my mind? What exactly does that mean? Does that mean… Just not knowing about aliens? Just Omur and the mind-blowing sex we had? Nothing else, right?

You know what? Regardless of what it means, I do not want that. No one is going to wipe my mind. No thank you.

“Is it just because of their fighting? Their wars?”

Oh, is that why they hate Earthlings so much?

“You cannot and should not condemn an entire species.”

It seems to me that this maestro guy is doing just that. I don’t know who he is, but I hate him. Arrogant, prejudiced bastard.

“How is it that you know so much about the Earthlings?” he asks.

Good question.

“And you think the Earthlings are…” Omur doesn’t finish his statement, which frustrates me.

I hate that I can only hear one side of this conversation, but maybe that's for the best because if I can hear the hatred spewing from the maestro's mouth, I'm liable to butt my way into the conversation and make things even worse for us.

Us. Us meaning Omur and me. A strange flutter in my chest as my heart skipping a few beats, and I’m not altogether sure why I’m suddenly breathless.

“There is no other for me,” Omur whispers.

That pain is pain, but there’s something else too. Pride? Joy? I can’t tell, but whatever it is, it’s real.

“I do not need your help,” Omur says, the words almost sounded as if they’re forced out.

There was a long pause, much longer than the other pauses between Omur speaking.

“What?” he yells. “No. I will not do that.”

My heart begins to race, and I bite my lower lip from fear. Omur sounds beside himself. Whatever he is denying, it’s something he does not want at any cost.

“If I… If I were to wipe her memory…”

What the hell? What could the maestro have said that would make Omur willing to abandon and desert his mate? Omur sounding hesitant about it does not exactly inspire confidence within me. This is horseshit.

“I will not do anything else.”

I flinch. Does the maestro mean something worse than wiping my memory? Like what? He doesn’t mean something like my being killed, right? The maestro would have to be one sick bastard to ask a man to kill his mate. No, that can’t be it, right?

There’s a huge long pause.

“Yes,” Omur finally mumbles.

There’s nothing else, and I don’t know what to do. Should I try and go to Omur? But what if he wants to wipe my memory? Or do something else even worse?

Just like Omur doesn’t know me, I don’t know him. I don’t know what to expect from him after hearing half of that conversation.

Well, I’ll stay here. Omur can come to me, and then what? What should I do?

I return to the bed and sit down on it just as the door opens. The smile Omur gives me is fake. He’s naked yet, and I almost want him to turn around so I can see his back, the scales or whatever it is on it. Does he have that kind of patch of skin on him anywhere else?

Why am I worried about his body right now?

“You’re awake,” Omur says with a grin.

“I am. So are you.”

“Were you disappointed to wake to find me gone?”

“I have to admit that I didn’t know what to think.” I make a show of looking all around. “I still don’t know what to think about all of this. A part of me still thinks this might all be a dream.”

“What do you normally dream about?” he asks, crossing over to sit next to me. He places a hand on my knee. A spark from his touch shoots straight to my crotch, and my eyes widen as I stare at him.

He squeezes my knee and pushes his hand upward, up along my thigh, and I part my legs without even having to think about it. His lips quirk into a knowing grin, and he brushes his fingers against my wetness.

I suck in a breath. There’s no doubt in my mind that this is not at all what his maestro wanted from him. Unless this foreplay and fooling around is because of some plan for him to be able to worm a way past my defenses so he can wipe my mind…

His fingers roll my clit, and I want to give into him, to believe that he just wants to love my body, but I’m too frightened and scared.

“Stop,” I whisper, placing a hand on his firm chest.

He stiffens, not moving at all, which means that his fingers remain pressed against my clit.

“You want me to stop?” he asks, slowly moving his hand away from me.

“How do I know that you aren’t using this as an excuse for you to be able to get close enough that you can… What was it? Wipe my mind? What exactly does that entail? Or do I not want to know? Because I have a feeling that’s the case, isn’t it?”

Omur lays his hand on his thigh. His fingers glisten with our combined juices, and I stare at a bead that falls from his nail onto his leg hairs rather than look at his face.

“You…” Omur gapes at me.

I smirk. “What about me? More like you.”

He inhales deeply.

Before he can launch into whatever BS excuse he’s about to dish out, I hold up my hand. “I do not want to hear it.”

“But—”

“I heard enough,” I assure him.

He closes his mouth and nods. “I… I suppose you have.”

“Yes, indeed,” I say, but not oddly enough, my tone isn’t cold. The one I’m furious at isn’t him. It’s that maestro bastard.

“Do you want me to, ah…”

“You should leave,” I tell him.

I expect him to argue with me, to beg for a chance to explain things to me, but I don’t want to hear it. Maybe he’s able to figure that out based on my body language because he simply nods, complies with my request, and closes the door behind him.

A man who listens to a woman. Will marvels never cease? And yet, what the hell is up with the Garrux and Earthlings?