Page 27 of Claimed By the Alien Warlord

I don’t know if he’s talking to me or himself, and right now, I don’t care.

“Spread your legs,” he commands, his voice rough with desire. “Wider.”

I obey, I step my feet apart. His eyes are locked on me, drinking in every detail.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and the words send a shiver through me. “Now, touch yourself. Show me how much you want this.”

My hands move without hesitation now, one sliding down my stomach while the other teases my nipple. I’m wet, so wet, and the way he’s watching me—like I’m the only thing in the universe—makes me feel powerful in a way I’ve never experienced before.

“Turn around,” he says, his voice strangled. “Show me everything.”

I turn, my heart pounding as I bend over slightly, spreading my cheeks for him. The air is thick with the scent of cigar smoke and arousal, and I can hear the rustle of fabric as he adjusts himself.

“Perfect,” he growls, and I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips. His desire is a physical thing, a heat that radiates across the room and wraps around me. I’ve never felt so wanted, so needed, and it’s intoxicating.

He’s watching me like I’m a revelation, and I feel like one.

I stumble forward, my legs trembling beneath me, until I’m standing in front of him, his red eyes burning into mine. His claws dig deeper into the armrests, the leather groaning in protest.

“Come here,” he growls, the sound so low and guttural it makes my head swim. He leans forward, his muscles coiled like a predator ready to pounce.

I step closer, and his hand snaps out, grabbing me by the small of my back. The scales of his palm are rough against my skin, but the heat radiating from him is intoxicating. He yanks me onto his lap, and I gasp as my bare skin presses against the fabric of his suit.

His mouth is on me before I can catch my breath—hot and relentless. He kisses my neck, his tongue flicking against my pulse point, his teeth nipping just hard enough to make me shiver. I grab the back of his scaled head, my fingers tangling in the ridges there, and press him harder into my skin.

“Oh god,” I moan, tilting my head to give him more access. The contrast between his fully clothed form and my nakedness is stark, a reminder of my place in this dynamic, and it sends a thrill through me.

I squirm on his lap, feeling the hard length of him beneath me, and finally manage to settle onto his cock. The stretch is intense, his vakutan ridges undulating inside me, and I cry out, my back arching.

“Who owns you?” he demands, his voice sharp as his eyes lock onto mine.

“Master Guvan owns me,” I breathe, my words hushed but sure. The weight of his control washes over me, that golden glow of subspace wrapping me in its warmth.

I grab the lapels of his suit, feeling the fine fabric crumple in my fists, and start to move. My hips roll and grind, taking him deeper with every motion. His cock pulses inside me, and I can see the way his jaw tightens, the way his eyes darken with every stroke.

“That’s it,” he growls, his hands gripping my hips, sharp claws pricking my skin. “Take what you need.”

I do, riding him harder, faster, until the room is filled with the sound of our ragged breaths and the slick slide of skin against scales. His mouth finds my breasts, his tongue swirling around one nipple while his teeth graze the other.

When I finally come, it’s with a scream, my body tightening around him as he spills inside me.

“Did I do a good job?” I ask, my voice dripping with cheeky snark as I catch my breath. “Master?”

His eyes narrow, but there’s a flicker of amusement in them. “Don’t push your luck, little spitfire.”

I grin, leaning in to kiss him, but he stops me with a clawed finger under my chin.

“You’re not done yet,” he rumbles.

His hand tangles in my hair, pulling my head back sharply. I gasp, the sting sending a jolt of heat straight to my core. His mouth crashes into mine, all teeth and tongue, a collision that steals my breath and fills my lungs with the scent of cigar smoke and something wild, somethingalien. My hands clutch at his shoulders, the scales slick under my palms, and I moan into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his growl.

Before I can process it, he spins me around, his claws gripping my hips as he yanks me back against him. I feel his cock, hot and ridged, pressing against me, and I lift my hips instinctively, expecting him to slide into me like before. But instead, I feel the blunt tip of him nudge against a place I’ve never explored.

“Master?” My voice wobbles, a mix of nerves and curiosity. I’ve never done this before, and the idea is equal parts terrifying and thrilling. My heart pounds, my body caught between wanting to pull away and wanting to push back.

He leans forward, his breath hot against my ear. “I won’t let you get hurt, Reily.” His voice is low, softer than I’ve ever heard it, and the words wrap around me like a promise. “I’d never let you get hurt.”

The tension in my shoulders eases, and I let out a shaky breath. I trust him. God help me, Itrusthim. Slowly, I lower myself onto him, the stretch sharp but not unbearable. His ridges glide against me, sending sparks shooting up my spine, and I whimper, my hands gripping the arms of the chair for support.

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