Page 16 of The Commander

The red hats had eaten all the dogs and cats in the area. The humans whined about losing their furry pets, showed him images of the lost beasts when he first arrived. He didn’t understand the appeal of the custom, of cute things with claws. Until now.

He shouldn’t care about that other than as an observation. But he did care. The idea went to his head and sizzled across his receptors. He liked that he appealed to her, in spite of herself, beyond her own fear. Programmed to respond to him, she lacked choices with her body’s responses to his presence, but that only made her dismay more fun to watch.

It was all very wrong. He really should have killed her and stepped out of this room several minutes ago. He should endthis now. But he couldn’t make his body turn; he couldn’t make himself act with the least bit of self-preservation.

Was he already infected by her?

As soon as he had the clothing removed from her thigh, he put his hand there. She twisted, as if to pull the same trick she had before, hurting herself to escape what was coming.

“Stop that now. Hold still. Why do you think you are tied? It’s not because I want you flopping about like a landed fish.”

“Fuck you.” She spat, her defiance escaping.

Bastian struck the spot with his open hand. Rapid fire, stinging slaps, until the skin reddened, then moved to the intriguing curve of her ass over her pants.

She wailed her resistance, pulling on her ropes. He wouldn’t allow her to hurt herself. That was his job.

“None of that.” Every time she moved, he spanked her more until she got the message.

“Monster. Alien pervert! I didn’t do anything.” Her more agreeable, frightened mask disappeared under the sharp delivery of pain, her face flushing with beautiful, angry color.

Oh, yes.He liked that.

He leaned in, so that his face filled her vision, forcing her to see all the species differences between them. Why didn’t she like his pearly teeth? He kept them clean and minty fresh.

“But you did something, Kitten. You broke my law. Fighting me isn’t a good way to make me change my mind about your punishment, either. Be still now. Relax. For me.”

“I didn’t do anything on purpose. This isn’t my fault. I told you.”

“Just one of those shit days, yes? I think this is what your people call a ‘Monday’.”

“Please. Just kill me,” she moaned, voice cracking. Her fight was useless, muscles straining in the ropes.

She didn’t think his sarcasm was funny. Did he do it wrong?

“Why would I do that when you are so much fun?”

The touch pads on his hands weren’t as sensitive as the areas on his body covered by clothing. But the difference between her human skin against his immediately materialized to his hunting senses. Every brush on her cheek with the back of his knuckles, every touch of his fingertips on her neck, activated a deep awareness.

He cut away her clothing quickly. The old human armor might stop their weapons, but it parted easily under his blade. Vitality shot through his blood, a battler hormone that sharpened his intent, kept him from shaking apart with the desire to experience the female with his fine receptor hairs.

Humans had tiny hairs in varying places, an animal byproduct, to keep them warm, to activate chill bumps, but basically useless. She was smooth, warm, damp with perspiration, and soaked with a catalog of feminine smells.

She said she had no mate, no male, and he only smelled her, as if she’d never been touched by another.

Fuck. He liked that. The knowledge made him start and freeze. But he didn’t want to freeze. Didn’t want to stop. His senses cried out in active rejection of any resistance to the compulsion to touch her.

He sent another command to his brain to stop inhaling her scent and sucking it into his nose like the most incredible thing he’d ever smelled. His knees locked, calf muscles screaming resistance, instinct taking him over in a hormone flood that started at the base of his skull and washed through his long body right into his gonads.

And fuck, it was too late now to walk out of the room, but he no longer cared.

One of her elbows had taken damage, a hematoma darkening purple as he stood there, a fool trying to maintain his control. He leaned down and put his lips on the sore spot.

She made a noise at the touch of his mouth, a cut off, choking sound between horror and hopelessness, in response to the warmer contrast of his hot touch against her cool skin.

Primes ran warm, but this girl called to his basest urges, the most untamed part of his primal, wild nature. He knew she had him running hotter than usual.

“You don’t have to do this. I’ve answered your questions. Please. Don’t do this,” she begged, trying to convince him.

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