Page 29 of Wrecked By My Alien Mentor

Finally, I slip the cloak on, pulling the hood up over my head. The fabric brushes against my bare skin, soft and warm, and I feel a little thrill run through me. “Happy now?” I ask, my voice a little breathless.

“Very.” He crosses his arms, leaning back against a tree. “Where’s your costume?” I tease, tilting my head. “Or are you just going to watch me wander around the woods like Little Red Riding Hood?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he reaches into the duffel bag again and pulls out something that makes my eyes widen. It’s a mask—a wolf mask, carved and painted with such detail it looks almost real. He slips it on, and suddenly, he’s the Big Bad Wolf.

My breath catches. “Well,” I say, my voice shaky but teasing, “I guess I should start running.”

“Three minutes,” Orion says, his voice low and teasing, as he starts to strip. I lose myself for a moment, my eyes wandering over him like they’ve been magnetized. His body is unreal—broad shoulders, defined muscles, scales that catch the dappled light filtering through the trees. He’s all power and grace, and I stare. “Your time already started,” he adds, slipping the wolf mask over his face. His voice is muffled now, but still commanding. “Grandma’s house is at the end of that trail. Good luck.”

“You’re such a cheat,” I mutter with a grin, sticking my tongue out at him before I turn and start jogging down the path. The forest feels alive around me—the cool, earthy scent of humus fills my lungs, and the sunlight spills through the canopy, casting shifting patterns on the ground. I can’t believe how real it all feels. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear we were actually in the middle of nowhere, not in some high-tech holo-gym.

I hear the faint rustle of underbrush behind me, and my heart skips a beat. I glance over my shoulder but don’t see him.Still, I canfeelhim, his presence like a shadow just out of reach. It’s thrilling and terrifying all at once. My pace slows almost instinctively, my body betraying me as I think about what he’s going to do when he catches me. I laugh softly to myself. I’m not motivated to run faster—I’m motivated to run slower.

“You’re not even trying,” his voice calls out, deep and taunting. It’s somewhere to my left, but I still can’t see him. “I thought you were smarter than this, Little Red.”

I stop, planting my hands on my hips and scanning the trees. “Maybe I’m just not scared of the Big Bad Wolf,” I shoot back, my voice steady despite the way my pulse is racing. “Maybe Iwantto get caught.”

A low growl rumbles through the air, and I spin around, my breath catching. Still nothing. “Cheap tricks,” I mutter, but I’m grinning as I start walking again. The path winds deeper into the forest, the trees thickening around me. Every snap of a twig, every rustle of leaves makes my skin prickle. I know he’s out there, stalking me, and the anticipation is intoxicating.

I pause by a large oak, leaning against it as I catch my breath. “You know,” I call out, my voice echoing slightly in the stillness, “if you’re trying to be scary, you might want to actually show yourself. This whole lurking-in-the-shadows thing is getting old.”

“Patience,” comes his voice, closer this time. I whirl around, and there he is—partially hidden by the trees, the wolf mask making him look otherworldly. He steps forward, his movements fluid and predatory. “I was just enjoying the view.”

I swallow hard, my body buzzing with adrenaline. “Well, enjoy it from a distance,” I tease, pushing off the tree and breaking into a run. I don’t get far before I hear him behind me, his footsteps light but impossibly fast. I cut to the right, weaving through the trees, my cloak flaring out behind me. It’s a gamenow, and I’m determined to make it as fun as possible—for both of us.

The cottage comes into view, its weathered wood and crooked chimney like something out of a fairy tale. I’m so close I can practically taste victory. My legs burn from running, but the adrenaline keeps me moving. “I wonder what prize I get for winning the game?” I call out, my voice laced with playful defiance. I’m ten feet from the door, my hand already reaching for the rusty handle, when he strikes.

Orion tackles me from the side, his body slamming into mine with enough force to knock the air from my lungs. We hit the ground hard, the damp grass cushioning our fall. “Gotcha,” he growls, his voice low and rough through the wolf mask. I let out a startled yelp, squirming under his weight, but he’s got me pinned. His hands are quick, yanking the scarlet cloak up and over my head. The fabric wraps around my upper body, cocooning my arms and blinding me. I’m trapped, helpless, and the thrill of it intoxicating.

“Hey!” I protest, my voice muffled by the cloak. “That’s cheating!”

“Cheating?” he scoffs, his tone dripping with mock offense. “Little Red, the wolf doesn’t play fair.” He flips me over, the rough edge of his mask brushing against my cheek as he smacks me firmly on the ass. The sharp sting makes me gasp, and I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. “Keep going,” he taunts, his voice a purr in my ear. “You’re so close.”

I squirm, trying to wriggle free, but the cloak holds me tight. He grabs me by the back of the head, his fingers tangling in my hair as he guides me to my feet. My bare legs brush against the cool grass, and the contrast between the warmth of the cloak and the chill of the forest air is maddening. He pushes me against the cottage wall, the rough wood biting into my skin. My upper body is bound, exposed, while my lower half is completely at hismercy. It’s a dizzying sensation, vulnerability and anticipation coiled tight in my chest.

I hear the rustle of his clothes as he positions himself behind me, his hands firm on my hips. “You’re mine, Cora,” he growls, the words sending a jolt of heat through me. There’s no preamble, no teasing—just the sharp, searing pleasure of him filling me in one swift motion. I cry out, the sound muffled by the cloak, my body arching against his. He fucks me like he’s claiming me, every thrust hard and relentless, his hands gripping my hips to keep me in place.

The world narrows to the sensations—the scrape of his scales against my skin, the rhythmic slap of his hips against mine, the way the cloak traps my arms and muffles my cries. I’m lost in it, every nerve on fire, until he sinks his teeth into my shoulder with a feral growl. The pain is sharp, immediate, but it mingles with the pleasure until I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. “You’re mine,” he repeats, his voice raw and possessive, and I feel him spill inside me, hot and claiming.

I want to sayyes sir, to tell him I’m his, always his, but the words are lost in the wave of pleasure that crashes over me. My body convulses, my knees buckling as I come apart in his arms. He holds me up, his grip firm, his breath hot against my neck. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of our breathing and the distant rustle of leaves in the wind.

The cloak falls away from my body, pooling around my feet like a scarlet puddle. I blink up at Orion, the sunlight filtering through the trees casting dappled shadows across his face. He pulls off the wolf mask, tossing it aside, and his purple eyes lock onto mine. There’s a softness there, something that makes my chest tighten.

“You’re a menace,” I say, my voice still a little breathless. “You know that, right?”

He smirks, the kind of smirk that makes my knees go weak even when they’re already jelly. “A menace who just made you scream.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. “Barely. You’re slipping, Weller.”

He steps closer, his hand brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Are you complaining?”

“Never.” I lean into his touch, my skin still humming from the intensity of what just happened. His other arm wraps around me, pulling me against his chest, and I let out a contented sigh. The warmth of his scales against my bare skin is electric, grounding and thrilling all at once.

We’re quiet for a moment, just standing there under the shade of the tree, the forest alive around us. I tilt my head back to look at him, and he’s already watching me, his expression unreadable but intense. “How does every day with you keep getting better?” I ask, my voice soft.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” he says, his thumb brushing over my cheek. His tone is casual, but there’s something in his eyes that makes my stomach flip.

I press my lips together to hide a smile. “Maybe I’m just a terrible influence on you. Turning you into a hopeless romantic.”

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