Before my eyes, Karter’s spine straightened. His chest puffed out and his gaze darkened. He was on the platform in two steps, I right behind.
Kaed seemed as stunned as I, staring at our female. She was tall, much taller than Commander Phan. The I.C. commander was small, compact with dark hair nearly black and a tight, compact body.
Not our female. She was tall with golden hair that curled at the ends and lush curves that would fill my hands. Large, full breasts with pink nipples, round, curved ass and full, soft thighs. Her stomach curved in a delightful softness I could not wait to fill with our seed and watch grow. She was lush. Soft.
Perfect.
My cock thought so as well, swelling to painful hardness in my pants.
Karter still hadn’t moved, his dark hands a stark contrast to her fair flesh where he wrapped his arms around her.
“Commander, we need to clear the pad.” The transport tech spoke softly, but the reprimand was there. We were staring, wasting time, delaying the transport of the injured.
“She’s mine,” Karter murmured as he lifted her easily into his arms and carried her down the steps, out of the way of the line of injured.
“Ours,” I added when I stroked her silky hair back from her sleeping face. I was no longer dead. I was now a second in a Prillon life match. I now had a mate. I was alive and had a new mission.
Her.
6
Erica
* * *
“She’s mine.”
I heard a deep voice growl those words. It was as if I were in another testing dream, floating, not quite sleeping… hovering. I was laid out, not in the dentist chair from the processing center, but as if in a bed. It was the hardest bed I’d ever felt. Cold, too. More like a floor.
“Ours.” A different voice, but no less gruff.
I felt large hands on me, lifting me to a somewhat upright position.
I couldn’t see—I wasn’t fully awake—but I could hear. A variety of sounds came to me. The two men weren’t alone. I heard other voices, but farther away. All clear, urgent. Banging of metal, as if a hammer hitting a car. Bursts of air, like truck brakes being released.
Soft fabric was pushed over my head. Warm and the scent of… of something I didn’t recognize. Dark. Appealing. I took a deep breath and blinked, saw flashes of light. Color.
Blinked again.
Hands were on me, moving mine, slipping my arms into sleeves of a dark shi
rt. The hands were tanned, corded tendons, thick veins. The size of dinner plates.
I was lifted easily—too easily for a woman of my size—and I was moving, down a few steps, then lowered into someone’s lap.
I lifted my head. Blinked once more. A man—no, not a man, an alien—was kneeling before me. I had to tilt my chin back to look at his face. It hadn’t felt as if I’d been transported off Earth, but just looking at him, I knew.
I wasn’t on Earth any longer. He was looking at me, his gaze roving over every inch of me. Intent, focused, sharp.
The eyes were dark, like chocolate, the same color as his hair. But his skin had the most amazing tan, as if he lived in Florida and spent all his time outdoors. He looked like a man from Earth, but… more. Bigger, like super-sized. With him kneeling, I couldn’t tell how tall he was, but his shoulders were broad and I had to wonder if they’d fill a doorway. Muscles bulged beneath his black shirt. He was… hot. God, like seriously, incredibly gorgeous. And all of his attention was focused squarely on me.
“Mate, are you well?”
The voice was like rocks tumbling down a stream. Deep. Mesmerizing. He continued to study me as I remained silent, but realized he was waiting. While he seemed patient, tension vibrated from him. I sensed anger, frustration and other things I didn’t understand.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I looked down, saw I’d been covered in a similar black shirt as his, and yet the one I wore had definitely seen better days. But a few rips and… oh God, what looked suspiciously like blood… was better than remaining naked in front of total strangers.
The arms about me tightened, then began to rove over me. My arms, my shoulders, the back of my neck, then back down. I was sitting in someone’s lap, not his, felt the warmth of the second person where I was pressed against him. My shoulder in his hard chest—where his heartbeat was steady—and lower, my hip pressing into his… oh shit.