Page 61 of The Commander

This was the moment that altered Cara. The change that had broken and remade her, a thing his body did to hers, that joined their souls together. She cried out, a groaned, agonized sound that matched his, her body shaking in his arms as they orgasmed together when his cock thickened and finally spilled his semen into her waiting womb.

It was so much. Too much. Her consciousness flickered.

“Stay with me, Kitten. Stay with your mate.” The connection released. Cara orgasmed again, clenching around the pulse and swell of his penis.

“What a good girl you are,” he praised. “Look at how you glow in my arms, my mate.” He nuzzled her head.

Lowering them, he sat, careful not to jog her from her position on his cock. His member stayed put, but it changed shape, shrinking some. “You will take a breath,” he announced.

As if he didn’t need a moment, too.

Her forehead against his pectoral muscles, Cara did nothing but breathe, her head going fuzzy. Stop thinking so much, he’d said.

She had a dozen questions. A thousand. But something he’d said or done had eased the fears and worries. He’d changed her again. She couldn’t guess all the ways, but another fundamental transformation had taken place in her being, her character.

Was it acceptance? Had she admitted to herself that she liked this? Wanted him?

Cara didn’t know. That answer was dangerous. He’d told her not to think. So, she wouldn’t. That wonderful rumbling purring noise of his filled up the silence of the forest creaturesand calmed her breathing even more, until she was drifting, almost asleep.

“I think we will go to your friend. Talk to Mister Danov. Meet this Andy. This must be settled. I cannot have you walking around the country by yourself.”

CHAPTER 19 - CARA

Since she had no clothes, they returned to the base and Bastian’s apartments. He carried her the entire way, teasing her spread legs with his dick until they were in sight of the base, and she begged him to stop.

If he made that sex-harness-carrier thing, she wouldn’t survive it. The man was a menace. Reaching the apartment, exhaustion, intensified by multiple climaxes, overwhelmed her. She needed sleep. But Brenda and the others relied on her.

“You need nourishment,” he said, taking her by the hand and drawing her toward the kitchen area.

“I need fresh clothes. I ate. Remember?”

“As I understand it, humans require more calories than the eight hundred you consumed this morning. The mating has depleted you.”

“I’ve gone longer without food.” Cara held her hands over herself, watching his eyes sweep down then up, staying on her breasts exposed between the ruined flaps of the shirt.

“I have plenty of curves.”

“Perhaps. But you will keep those curves. I like curves. You will no longer go without. Sit down.”

Cara didn’t want to sit. She felt like she was breaking a promise to Brenda. Promises were tied to her self-respect. They were important.

He didn’t give her a chance to argue the point, just picked her up and sat her down back at the little table in the corner of his kitchen. It had two chairs shoved in a corner next to a double window covered with protective bomb film that darkened the room spread over it.

“How old is Brenda?”

Her name sounded funny when he said it, as if he wasn’t sure Brenda was a real person. “I don’t know.”

“Guess,” he insisted.

“Why?”

“Must you argue about everything? Do I need to teach you how to have conversations with your mate? All the studies show that human females are good communicators. Why is my mate so terrible at it?” He acted out a whiny beleaguered tone that made Cara think of Andy.

“Less than two days ago you were my enemy. Now I’m not sure what you are.”

His eyelids lowered to slits over the black. “Mate. I am your mate. Answer the question. How old is this, Brenda? Older? Younger?”

Cara put her hands on the table. Was sitting really a good idea? She had to keep moving, if she didn’t, she’d sleep for two days, happily, in that clean, big bed of his in the other room. She sighed before saying, “I don’t know. Almost thirty?”

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