Page 11 of Mated to the Alien Warlord

"You are the most beautiful kallini I have ever seen, Damaris, and you awaken all kinds of emotions in me, but foremost, right now, I just want to fuck you."

His words created a storm inside me, and I stared at him wide-eyed.

He came back to me, knelt in front of me, and took my hands in his. "This kiss… you… enflame a desire in me," he confessed, and my heart skipped a beat. "When a male desires a kallini, his cock gets hard." He took my hand and guided it to the hard bulge between his legs, and I hissed in surprise. Of course I knew what a cock was, had even seen one once or twice, but never touched one. Curiosity overcame me, and I pressed my palm against the hard length underneath his pants, making him close his eyes and exhale sharply before he chuckled. "You really don't know what you are doing to me, do you?"

I shook my head.

"This," he pressed my hand against his shaft, "feels incredibly good, but it's also painful, even more so when I can't sheathe myself into your pussy."

Understanding began to bloom inside me, and my face must have turned even redder. I tried to withdraw my hand, but he kept it pressed against him before he rose with a deep sigh.

"I'm going to… wash up in the creek, further down… can you watch our food?"

I looked up at him with my mouth agape and slowly nodded.He wants me. Me! repeated in my head, and I could barely believe that this magnificent male, the one who had been more or less forced to marry me, wanted me. But it filled me with so much giddiness that my smile threatened to split my face in half while I watched him slowly retreat down to the creek into the darkness. It was idiotic, really, but I couldn't stop it.

Itwaslateafternoonthe next day when we ran into the first camp followers of Khazar Gryck's army. All day long we had found evidence of their march: a lost silver canteen, discarded, bloody scraps of clothes, bones from leftover food, a broken sword, and many other items a large contingent of marching warriors and their entourage left behind.

The camp followers made up the rear of any marching army and consisted of blacksmiths, horse handlers, cooks, really any trade that might be needed to replenish the needs of the army, as well as some family members who had been unwilling to stay behind while their loved ones had been called on by their liege lords to follow them into war. And, of course, there were the harlots as well. Pleasure concubines to keep the lonely males happy and a necessity for any army.

As much as most people looked down on these kallinies, I was well aware of their contribution to any battle and to the males' discipline. Without them, most armies would have fallen apart. It was a well-known fact that males who couldn't relieve their… desires and pressure would be less effective in battle.

I sympathized because I was on the verge of losing my self-control around Damaris.

My only respite had been while she was sleeping, something she had desperately needed. She put on a brave face, but the events of the last day had shaken her. Her body and mind had needed rest and while she found it, I paced our little camp, checked on the horses, filled the canteens, made sure the fire burned, and nobody snuck up on us, basically anything I could think of to distract myself from the famous blue balls the kallini was causing me.

Even the quick trip down the creek hadn't been enough to ease my ever-present stiff cock.

We quickly caught up with the foot soldiers, and soon after, the riders, and then the head of the group where the khazar, Myrca, and King Helmut rode.

"Damaris!" Helmut exclaimed when we reached them.

"Father," the two embraced awkwardly while staying on their horses. Helmut's pleasure at seeing his daughter was obvious, and I remembered her hinting at having lost her brother. After her abduction, the king must have been devastated.

"You found her. I owe you much gratitude, Warlord Vandor," Helmut said to me when he and Damaris finally let go of one another.

"I always get back what was stolen from me," I stated offhandedly before I turned to Gryck. "Have we engaged the enemy army yet?"

Gryck shook his head. "The bastards are on the run. From their course, I suspect they're going to take the long route through the mountain passes instead of crossing the steppe where we could run them down. Once they reach Fionbyr's home, he will be out of my reach unless I want to invest in a long siege."

Sieges took a long time and were a costly venture in time, resources, and credits. They weren't done very often, since not many warlords ever rebelled against their khazar, but they weren't unheard of; sometimes warlords fought among each other over a land dispute or a perceived slight, laying siege to the other's stronghold just to make a point.

"What is Fionbyr thinking to accomplish now that he is on the run?" I wondered out loud.

"He probably just wants to return to his home and lick his wounds," Myrca suggested.

"If we don't catch him, it will be my people paying the price," King Helmut predicted, looking gloomy. He had lost his entire army to Fionbyr.

"We won't forget your sacrifice to Thyre," Gryck assured Helmut. "You will have my full support."

"And mine," I added. After all, he was my mate's father. His holdings would one day be hers.

"Thank you." Helmut looked pleased but still worried.

"If it helps, I will send a contingent of warriors to Steppenfort. It will show Fionbyr that your outpost is under my protection. He would be a fool to attack," I offered, before I turned to Gryck. "If I can have your permission to withdraw some of my troops, Khazar."

"Fill your ranks with an equal number of my warriors. That will send a clear message," Gryck offered.

"That sounds like a quest for you, Myrca," I nodded at my second-in-command, whose entire face instantly split into a smile.

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