Page 45 of Tamed By the Alien Warlord
“Say it again,” he growls.
“Ibelongto you.”
He thrusts into me from behind in one brutal, glorious stroke.
My scream echoes through the cabin.
His cock is massive—alien-thick, ridged, with those infernal bone spurs flaring slightly as he stretches me open. They scrape against my inner walls, textured in ways that set every nerve onfire. I’m so wet I can hear it—every filthy, slick slap of his hips against my ass.
He grips my hips, claws digging in. His pace is relentless. Ferocious. Each thrust drives me forward against the chains, the leash tugging at my neck, the blindfold keeping me locked in darkness.
I’m nothing but sensation. Nothing but heat and friction andhim.
“You take me so well,” he groans. “Like you were made for this. Made forme.”
“Yes—yes—harder, please?—”
He grabs a fistful of my hair andpulls, forcing my back to arch. The angle changes. His cock hits deeper. I see stars. Galaxies. The whole damncosmos.
“I want to hear you scream it,” he snarls, fucking me harder. “Who do you belong to?”
“YOU!” I scream. “YOU! I belong to YOU!”
And with that, I come.
Hard.
It detonates through me like a supernova. I scream, thrash, sob his name. My pussy clamps down around him, milking his cock, drawing him in.
He grunts—a sound animalistic, primal—and thrusts deep one final time. His cock jerks inside me, and I feel the hot, thick surge of his cum spill into my core. It doesn’t stop. Pulse after pulse fills me, and I swear I canfeelit dripping down my thighs.
We stay like that—me hanging limp in the chains, him pressed against my back, both of us breathing like we’ve survived a war.
Eventually, he eases the blindfold away.
Then the chains.
I collapse into his arms, boneless, wrecked, radiant.
He carries me to the bed, cradles me like I’m priceless.
“I’ll chain you up a thousand times,” he whispers into my hair, “just to watch you come undone for me.”
I smile against his chest.
“I hope you do.”
By dawn,the ship hums a different tune—a sense of purpose. Georgia Lancaster, human journalist, reclines beside Lanz, former Reaper warlord, with a binder of Holonetwork camera loops and lab logs between us.
He traces a finger over a printed logo. “Ready to leak?”
I lean into his good arm. “Let’s light them on fire.”
He smiles. “Together.”
We merge—partner, lover, revolutionaries—in the quiet hum of our ship, set to expose one of the galaxy’s darkest crimes.
And together, beneath battered shields and hopeful skies, we begin our true fight.
