Page 14 of Bound to the Alien Gladiator
The crowd hushed as Khit’s scream cut off. The roar of applause quickly drowned out the wet, squishy sounds of an eating animal.
Atroba strode out from the raised gate and smiled. She wore the same tight, silver jumpsuit I’d first met her in, although the fake smile was new. “If you make the right choice, you will live to fight another day. But go after the gun, and you’ll die.”
Tezakk’s pained eyes met mine. I slowly shook my head as my heart pounded. Freedom was so close, yet so far away. One wrong move would be the death of us.
He took a step closer to the gun. The guard’s weapons rose.
“Tezakk,” I warned.
His tentacles stilled. Hands clenched, he turned back to me. “Are you sure?”
A dart slammed into his chest. Glazed eyes met mine, and he fell like a rock, slamming into the sand.
I met Atroba’s stare, and she smirked. “Nighty night.”
A sharp sting bit into my neck. I slapped my hand over it, the dart cold and smooth against my skin. Everything went black.
Chapter Four
I woke back in the Champion’s quarters, and everything was quiet. There was no crowd, no imminent danger. Frankly, I was surprised to still be alive and in the Champion’s cell. I thought for sure Atroba would have had us killed after we’d been dragged out of the pit.
I’d been half-dead two hours ago, leg bitten to shreds by a prehistoric gator, and tranqed by a lady who’d rather see me dead. But all of that meant nothing to me as my body begged to be filled by the male that saved me. Apparently, any near-death experience was excellent foreplay.
I lay stretched out again on his bed as Tezakk, naked and glistening, knelt between my knees, determined to rub warming cream into places I didn’t even know I’d bruised. A dark patch of smooth skin among his scales sat on his shoulder where the gun had torn through him, a wound he’d repeatedly told me no longer bothered him.
Tezakk’s hand was coated in that special healing cream he massaged in larger and larger circles. The pain disappeared, replaced by a deep, throbbing heat. I should’ve been thinking about the rescue. About escape. Instead, I focused on the way his hands lingered on my naked body.
I still couldn’t believe everything that had happened, and that we were both alive.
“You chose me,” I murmured.
His tentacles curled protectively around us, but he hesitated, possibly worried about how I’d take his response.
“It was the only choice I could make,” he rasped. “You are mine to protect.”
His fingers trailed over the curve of my hip as if memorizing the moment.
“I thought you were dead.” My breath caught in my throat and tears prickled behind my eyes.
I had a hard time tearing my gaze from his healed wound, even as his muscles continued to flex with his movements. Instead of collapsing into a puddle, I focused on the heat throbbing in my core and the emerald green eyes now lifted to mine.
“I would never leave you.” He paused. “Not by choice.”
Every bruise he touched made me want to cry or climb him. The balm seeped into my skin, melting away resistance, fear, and any lingering doubts.
No one had ever chosen me. Sacrificed themself for me. Even my crew’s support was tinged with the transactional. I was valuable to them for my combat skills and my knowledge of the galaxy.
The power of his choice and what it meant raced through me and heated my blood. I pushed upright, shoving away the last traces of pain and feeling desire build inside me.
“I want to . . . I mean—” My voice hitched, and I almost turned away from his searing gaze. My emotions were too close to the surface, too tight around my heart, and my expression too vulnerable. “I choose you too.”
“I know,” he murmured and pulled closer until our foreheads were touching. He hovered over me, and his hands cradled my hips, hesitating, waiting for me.
“Mine,” I choked out, desperate to claim him.
The question he’d asked before, but now I answered.
I arched into him, and his throbbing hardness was a reply. His earthy, musky scent infiltrated my brain and flipped every one of my switches. I would never get tired of this.
