Page 79 of Alien Captain's Prisoner

There’s a knock at the door. I know it’s not one of my Bonded triad. I might not be able to pinpoint their exact locations, but Icansense they aren’t on the other side of that door right now.

“Who is it?”

“Garrick. I have a delivery for you from the Captain. May I open the door?”

That might be the most this stoic alien has said to me in all the time I’ve known him. Garrick is a reminder that not all Aurelians are like Captain Aelon, who always seems intent to get the last word in.

“Hold on a second. I’m not decent.”

I jump under the covers of the bed. Garrick has been nothing but respectful, but I don’t want to test his resolve if he opens the door and finds a nude human woman waiting for him. Even the best of Aurelians could snap.

“Okay!” I finally yell, when I’m safely hidden beneath the covers.

The door opens, only for a split second – just enough time for Garrick to throw a bag inside. Then, he shuts the door without looking at me. I smile. He’s an honorable man. It would be so much easier if I was Bonded to him. Ifhehas demons, he at least hides them well.

I throw the covers aside and walk naked to the bag. I pull it open – and smile at the sight of the dozen dresses enclosed within.

I pull one out, and my gratitude sours.

One after one, I pull out the dresses. It would take three of these skimpy outfits to make one modest item of clothing. I’m now left facing the choice between wearing a thin slip of barely-more-than-lingerie, or going back to my uncomfortable, dirty, sweaty old pants – that had seen better days even before I bought them.

“Ugh.”

I pick out a yellow dress at random, slipping it over myself. I’ve worn a dress maybe three or four times in my entire life and it just feels so…unnatural.

When I look at myself in the mirror, I can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous I appear. I don’t look much like the captain of a ship anymore. Now, I look like a little pleasure slave.

Aelon can dress me up for the part, but that won’t make mebecomeit. He’s quickly going to find out that I’m not just some toy for his use. He thinks of himself as myowner,but that’s not true. I’m a free woman. I can’t be held captive, and I won’t submit to him – not unless I want to on myownterms; to experience the sweet release of complete surrender.

Sweet surrender I will never feel again.

But I can’t stopthinkingabout them. The way the bodies of those three Aurelians intertwined so perfectly with mine. I’ve always like bigger guys, especially more muscular ones, but I’ve never felt an attraction as powerful as this before.

When our bodies molded together in the heat of passion – Iunia, Aelon or Vinicus – it was as if we truly became one. When I felt them cumming deep inside of me, our bodies writhing and moving in the rhythm of our need, I’d felt a satisfaction like I’d never thought possible. Every worry I had disappeared in that moment of sweet release.

“It’s just the Bond,” I tell myself, smoothing the dress out.

I say the words to convince myself, but they fail. The Bond might make it more intense, but if even a fraction of the attraction and pull I feel towards those three Aurelians is real, then it exceeds anything I’ve ever felt before. Their kiss alone made every romantic encounter of my past seem like a shadow in comparison – a cheap reflection compared to the realness of their passion.

So, what am I going to do with myself?

The years are going to be lonely – thethousandsof years.

Pushing the three Aurelians out of my mind – reducing their auras to faint circles in my consciousness – is ultimately only going to make things worse. I’ll always know they’re in there, and I’ll always know why we can’t be together.

I can’t let those men raise my children. Not with Aelon’s violence and willingness to take huge risks for a prize as intangible as vengeance against the species he hates. No man with so much hate could possibly have room for love.

But that means I will have no love in my future.

Any human man I marry will grow old and die while I stay young. Any children I bear will wither in front of my very eyes. What horror could there be worse than that? Worse than a mother losing her child? I can’t bear to put that on myself.

I have two choices, then: A life of loneliness, or to deal with those possessive, dominant aliens – the ones who drive me mad with pleasure and yet infuriate me in every other way.

“Focus on your crew.”

This time, I say the words with conviction. I center myself, grabbing the bag of clothes. Sawoot and I are the same size and she’ll like these dresses better than the rough clothes she has aboard my ship.

I open the door, and Garrick’s triad looks away – as if they don’t trust themselves seeing me in such a skimpy dress. They truly are a gallant group. These three aren’t like other Aurelians, who’d be staring at me hungrily, imagining ripping apart the thin fabric of this dress and forcing me hard against the wall.

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