Page 29 of The Commander

Her struggles continued; the blows didn’t move him. He’d suffer no bruises. She wasn’t made to fight a prime. “You are battling yourself. This is inevitable.”

With more bulk, more muscle, and heavier bones than her human body, he easily secured her against the wall to make it harder for her to kick and wiggle. As heavy as a boulder, the poor girl couldn’t move, could barely pull a breath unless he allowed it. Sweeping up one wrist and then the other, he movedback from her for an unimpeded exploration of her body, hands pinned above her head.

Their chests touched. Finally. Goddess, it was better than anything he’d ever imagined when his receptors touched her, fully, with nothing between them. Skin to skin. All the times he’d experimented, searching for pleasure, he’d never experienced anything like this.

“Fuck, woman. Fuck.” Her vulnerable, plush skin felt incredible everywhere. She was tiny, but he loved their size difference. Adorable little kitten.

Rubbing his face against the bend between her neck and shoulder, he bent himself in half to get to her tits. Beaded on her skin, her dread soaked pheromones called his name. He rubbed his face here too, an animal in rut, covering himself in her heady DNA drenched perspiration.

Their coded link slammed into his system. His mate. His claim. She was a trap designed to capture prime battlers and ensure they stopped killing long enough to fuck and perpetuate the species.

He wanted to open his lower mouth and sip up every drop of her, but she hadn’t fully accepted him. It was too early. Best not to break her mind with terror she couldn’t overcome. Instead, he licked up her human taste, reveling in her unique, addictive difference as he nuzzled deep into the lush valley of her chest.

Kitten continued to fight, to shout. He let go of one hand. She pounded at him. He ignored that. Loosening the other hand, he forced her legs wide, spreading open her lower half as he moved down her body. Her center opened fully to him, her sex meeting the uppermost ridges of his abdominals. Every one of his senses celebrated in delight where they touched.

Her shouts changed to pleas and cries as her brain registered her new position.

There was a dire threat of devastating pleasure right at her feminine core.

She’d get over it.

Turning his head, he explored the rest of her, kissing and licking the ample softness of her breasts, seeking the circumference of her areola, the tip of her stiff nipple. He scraped his teeth over that point, teasing, threatening.

“Shit. What’s happening? Did you drug me? Something in the air? Why is this happening to me? How are you making me want this?”

Answers would come later; he was too busy listening to the involuntary guidance of her body calling his. He’d break through her last defenses and discover exactly what she needed from him to create more of those sounds of erotic surprise.

“Feels good. Doesn’t it?” he asked.

“Why? Why does it feel so good? You are a demon. A monster. It can’t feel good. I hate you.”

“Why are you so wet, then? I believe that is an indicator of arousal.” She fought him harder.

Bastian laughed against her skin. The woman’s reactions were a brilliant, enthralling map in his mind. Allowing her escape, catching her again—got her blood up—got her ready.

She had been drawn in during every second of the chase.

This was the claiming.

She had been rightfully caught. There was no escape. Now he would learn the details of her scent, her flavor, all her gorgeous sounds and cries of need. He would map all her weaknesses and learn how to own every part of her. The spice of her fear had been an appetizer compared to the tasty heat of Kitten’s growing desire.

“Sweet girl,” he murmured against her nipple before flicking it with his tongue. He traveled from one peak to theother, worshipping with his mouth, relishing in her response, noticing that when he sucked, her hips moved, seeking pressure.

“I can’t breathe. What is this feeling?” Her head was filling up with the heady fog of his mating pheromones. The irresistible aphrodisiac worked on the coding in her genes, blasting through all her reasonable flight or fight instincts with an opposing relentless drive to submit to desire and mate the one who caused it.

Listening to her heartbeat, he breathed in each helpless surge dripping from her pussy.

“Do you want me to make you feel more? Are you ready? You smell ready.” He mouthed the words into her skin. “Your smell goes right to my head. Do I smell good to you too? Do I smell right? Breathe me in. Scent me, Kitten.”

She groaned, her head rolling. He felt her chest still as she tried to hold her breath in defiance. He went back to her tits and caught one nipple in his teeth, biting until her fine muscles bunched. Kitten gasped, involuntarily sucking in air and the secretions oozing from his pores that would be her downfall. He kept going, drawing the mound of her breast deeper into his mouth, letting her feel the slightest edge of his teeth.

So good. Her responses, the feel, and taste of her amazingly satisfying.

Fascinating creature. He didn’t know why her fragile humanity felt like perfection against him, how it could—she was such a weak little thing—but it did. She was a gift. He had few of those in his life.

He needed to suck on more things. There was more he wanted to do. More he needed to have. He put both of his hands on her ass and reset her higher up the wall. Crushed with the movement, peeling paint rained down like snow, sticking to them. He didn’t care.

Her freed hands went to his head. His shoulders. Bastian wasn’t paying attention. Had to get a better taste. Must have more. He burrowed through the fine, soaked hair guarding her cunt, licking at the wet slick of her desire, grunting with wicked joy as the flavor burst over his taste buds.

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