Captive: Nomadican Mates Series 1: Alien Reverse Harem Romance Read online

  Earth is the same, isn’t it—a beautiful blue marble from space. Only when you take a closer look, do you see the atrocities of humanity—abuse and neglect of its animals and resources by its self-serving inhabitants. Not that all people are bad, but pessimism dictates that the bad outweighs the good.

  Seeing the ugliness of this alien planet give way to such beauty only solidifies my theory, distance is a most effective disguise.

  My eyes become too heavy to hold open, so I let go and drift away.

  My next moment of awareness comes when I’m lifted from the seat and held against a muscular chest. Wrapping my arms and legs around all that strength, I nestle my face into a muscled shoulder and breathe in the heady scent of the male. That same tingle I felt when the gorgeous one fondled me back on that planet ripples over my flesh.

  I instinctively know without cracking an eyelid, it’s alien-Jason who carries me. I’m too comfortable to try to shake off the narcosis of the drug’s effects to peek at where I’m being taken.

  There’s a pause in our forward progress. I hug alien-Jason tighter. Suddenly, I’m surrounded by a chorus of male voices that speak a language I can’t understand.

  “Xuel, what have you brought?” A particularly deep voice speaks in that strange tongue.

  “Just a trinket,” Alien-Jason’s reply rumbles through the breadth of his chest.

  “She is ours?” another male speaks with a kind of awe.

  “Yes.”

  There is a rumble of approving voices before many hands touch me everywhere at once. Petting and squeezing, they aren’t rough or hurtful, but I tense up and tighten my hold on alien-Jason.

  The weight of my hair is lifted from my back. With a tug and a sniff, another male comments, “Her scent is intoxicating.”

  “She is but a toy, Agris.” Alien-Jason is firm, his strange words sound like a warning.

  I wish I could follow the conversation. Even without understanding their words, I know they are discussing me. It would be nice to know just what it is they plan to do with me. Then again, ignorance is bliss.

  “Yes, intoxicating, but do not become drunk on her cunt and forget your duties. She is to be used as an easement during our long journey.”

  “You are too good to us, Xuel.”

  “You have only Natu to thank for convincing me to part with so much rillium. She was expensive. An overindulgence, I fear,” alien-Jason comments. “Be of care with her. If she breaks, there shall not be another bought from my purse.”

  “Tell us, Natu, what was the power of persuasion you held over our illustrious leader to sway him to purchase a prize such as this?” One male chuckles.

  I match the next voice to the gorgeous male I allowed to fondle me. “No power, only a suggestion that she might make a comparable mate—”

  My body jerks as raucous laughter booms, filling up the air around me.

  “You would bond yourself to an inferior species?”

  “How can you compare a female of any species to one that may well be extinct?” The gorgeous male speaks again.

  “He has a point, Agris. I have not laid eyes on one of our kind since Riosis was exploded to dust.”

  “Thanks to the greed of a few males, the ones of us that are left will forever mourn the loss of our females.” One male fumes.

  “Had I known our government was going to start a war with the Bioti, I would have brought my shoulsis with me on our last voyage,” adds another.

  “Enough with the chatter!” Alien-Jason growls.

  As forward movement resumes, my mind goes blank. The darkness of the drug pulls me under into nothingness until I’m placed on something cushioned and flat. Reluctant to let go of alien-Jason, my arms are pried from around his neck and carefully placed at my sides.

  Drowsily, I listen to the peculiar talk which has sprung up around me. The drugs are beginning to wane, but my earlier rushing need to escape now that I’m unhindered remains deadened. In its wake is a comfortable calm, tinted with mild curiosity, reminiscent of that floaty feeling from the hydrocodone I was prescribed for my arthroscopic knee surgery.

  I crack open my eyes and take a leisurely look around.

  Cocooned in a white luminescent room, if not for the drugs, I would be shocked to find five huge males surrounding me. Laid out on a padded table that brings me waist-high to their towering heights.

  “Look at her eyes! How are they azure?” One of the males leans over me, so close, I can see the emerald striations that radiate out from his slitted pupils.

  “What is she?” breathes another in that bizarre language.

  “Mannock female from the Luartick Sector, I expect,” is alien-Jason’s reply.

  “Xuel, she is a rare commodity.” Another comes forth. I recoil from his foul breath. “The Yulineons that govern that region must be slacking in their duties. It is rumored to be impossible to land on any of those planets.”

  “It is also rumored that the Gretolics have resumed abducting females from sectors that are outlawed.” Another male speaks.

  “Like Corillian blood worms, they sneak in and take what that want, without anyone knowing they were even there.”

  “Why risk being caught by the Yulineons when slavery is legal in the Denarian Sector?” I recognize the cadence of the gorgeous one’s voice.

  “Because Denarian cunt is no longer prized.” The male with the foul breath answers. “Those females are so commonplace now; the slavers practically give them away. The Gretolics are smart to choose that region to steal from. The Luartick Sector is larger than most. With such vast distances between star systems, the Yulineon patrols cannot be everywhere at once.”

  “If she is a Mannock, she is a rare specimen indeed.” The shortest of them all speaks and leans in close to me for a look.

  My body goes tense. There’s something untrustworthy about the shortest one’s eyes; a roguish gleam that has nothing to do with the natural glow.

  “Yes.” My eyes float to the gorgeous one as he speaks. “Far removed from our own species, but close enough to pass for one of our females.”

  “You have fanciful notions, Natu.” The shortest one sneers. “Distant cousin or not, she is beneath that of a Nomadican’s mate.”

  “For whatever she is intended, she must have cost a fortune.” Another adds.

  “I would rather not speak of it.” Alien-Jason begins to move away from the group. “Before you become delirious on her cunt, we need to move the ship a safe distance away from Tirius, then you may pair off and have your fill. I want two Nomadicans on the command deck at all times.”

  A rectangular section of the wall he pauses in front of evaporates before my eyes creating a door.

  “Leave the choice of who goes first up to chance. Rare or not, I do not want fighting over a coitus servant,” alien-Jason tosses out over his shoulder before leaving me behind.

  The wall reappears at his back, and I’m left alone with four leering males. The combination of their musky scents settles around me. A cloak of sexual craving envelopes me, swirling into a dark need that stipples my naked flesh. The heady effect comes in for a landing in the form of a heavy ache low in my belly. Where once only a euphoria of numbness from the drugs existed, an unfurling into a tingling awareness hardens my nipples into tight buds. Raking over every square inch of my naked body, their vibrant gazes register as tangible touches. The sensation is electrifying.

  Their focus shifts to a handheld device between them, allowing me the opportunity to study my new captures.

  They all stand well over six feet—the exception being alien-Jason who tops them all by a head—with long, lustrous, dark hair pinned back with wide metal bands that hangs to their waists. Wearing only loose-fitting pants of the same buff color and boots covering their thick calves that are held in place with heavy straps, leaves their upper bodies completely exposed.

  Each is marked on their arms and chests with thick, black patterns that remind me of tribal tattoos. Alien-Jason is the most
heavily marked, then the one with bad breath. The remaining three display a few patterns with the gorgeous one having the least.

  That’s where their human-like characteristics end. All the males have similarly hued effulgent green eyes—the light seemingly originating from inside their skulls. The effect is rather remarkable, but the cat-like pupils are something to get used to.

  Steely bands of muscle make up their immense bodies in rippling strength. Back on Earth, these guys would make professional bodybuilders look like amateurs. With a similar frame compared to that of a man, they possess additional musculature like nothing I’ve ever seen. Slabs stacked upon slabs of dense meat create deep ridges from one stretch of muscle to the next, casting shadows over densely packed torsos and arms.

  Smooth black horns growing from their temples following the curvature of their heads are as alluringly as they are terrifying. There’s something else unusual... I can’t quite put my finger on it… Holy hell, they have no navels! From their smooth, hairless pectorals to the top of their waistbands, there’s no dimple where they were once attached to their mothers. No remnant marking their births.

  Each possesses a face with a hard-cut jawline and patrician nose so perfectly sculpted they could have been rendered from an artist’s hand. Cut from granite, as if life was somehow breathed into a statue to create each being.

  If I were anywhere else, I would say they were a spectacular group of men. But… I’m not someplace else, and these are definitely not men. These are alien males with huge, powerful bodies, pointed horns, and enormous fangs. The latter is what scares me the most—not knowing what that physical attribute is used for.

  Standing in a circle, each speaks a single word. The gorgeous one swipes his finger across the screen of the device held between them. The results of whatever it is they wait for causes two to groan and the other two to cheer.

  The four surround me, and once again, I’m the center of their attention. Their tantalizing scent fills my lungs with a promise of satisfaction. Many hands roam over my exposed flesh with possessive touches, caressing and squeezing. Dignity and strict upbringing yell at me to swat their hands away, but the scent of the males pushes aside all thought with a lusty hand. Instead of squirming to avoid the contact, I arch languid limbs and torso into their forbidden fondling. A moan drips from my lips.

  “Her skin is softer than Nutrillum silk.” The gorgeous one looks at me with something akin to reverence. His hand is roughly shoved away by a male who grabs ahold of my ankles, spreading me wide to his lusty view.

  Licking his lips, he bellows, “I get the first taste, Natu. You can stir your cock around in my leavings as soon as I’m finished.”

  “Why does she appear limp?” the shortest of them speaks in that strange tongue. Catching one of my drooping limbs, he sniffs me. “Is she ill?”

  “Drugged,” the gorgeous one they keep referring to as Natu comments. “She ran after the trollis released her from her bonds.”

  “Why would Xuel purchase a coitus servant who is unwilling to perform?” The one with bad breath sneers down at me.

  I have no idea what I’ve done in the short time I’ve been lying here in my semi-conscious state to warrant such a look, but I hope I don’t do it again.

  “She appeared willing at the time.” Natu sounds to be coming to my defense once again. “She flaunted her wares to us and even allowed me leave to touch her body without complaint. One of the other species at the trading post must have frightened her, so she ran.”

  “Did it occur to you that she was already used, and she played you for a fool to get away?” the boisterous male holding my ankles says in a condescending cadence.

  The male with bad breath shoves aside the boisterous male and handles me roughly. I moan when he too spreads my legs, dropping his face close to my crotch. I should be mortified when he draws in a deep breath, but the drugs and their musk leaves me submissive.

  Dropping my legs, he states, “There is no hint of any prior rutting. She is clean.”

  “Clean or not, I prefer a willing cunt that weeps for my cock,” the boisterous one speaks. “Xuel should have left her for the Natookie. They like to fight what they are fucking.”

  Nodding, they all seem to agree on something. The one with bad breath rubs at his chin as if in consideration, the others adopting the same skeptical guise.

  Natu suddenly cups my breasts, thumbing my nipples like at the market. Raising his eyebrows at the boisterous one, the male is out to convince them of something, and I get the feeling it’s my worth to service these males.

  Pushing my thighs apart, he dips his meaty hand between my legs. Gently rubbing my labia, his touch stirs my earlier arousal back to life. The thick finger he pushes between my folds causes my hips to constrict in a tight curl. Pulling free way too soon, he shows his wetted finger to the group.

  “She is slick.” Natu smiles in satisfaction, flashing his fangs. “She is willing.”

  They grumble among themselves, and another agreement is reached.

  Looming around me, I’m caged in male flesh. Petting and pawing, I’m clothed in large, roaming hands, an exotic encounter to be the center of attention of so many virile males at once. It’s wrong to allow this. I shouldn’t be enjoying the caresses of strange beings.

  That delicious masculine fragrance rolls over me in a thick wave, shutting done my internal protests. Their musk an aphrodisiac that muddles my senses, forcing my body to respond uncharacteristically.

  Enormous bulges growing long and firm behind their flowing pants should terrify me. I know I’ll be fucked by all of them, and most likely soon given how they’re rubbing rough hands over their engorged members. This anticipation welling in my slit should be unwanted. But here I lie on a table, drugged and heavily aroused, ready to receive whatever they have punching against the coarse material covering them.

  Giving in to the weightiness of my eyelids, I let them drop. A black backdrop to their musk only enhances the feel of their fondling. I don’t want to admit my nipples are hard and sensitive from their machinations. As the drugs paralyzing effects wan, my hips jerk and roll as several different hands take turns between my thighs, dipping fat fingers inside me.

  One male lingers, pumping slow and steady, teasing little sounds of pleasure from me. From out of nowhere, alien-Jason’s face pops into my mind, and like a dirty movie, I imagine the finger filling me is his cock thrusting between my thighs.

  Sluggishly, I bend a knee, and my legs fall wide allowing more room for play. A male’s animalistic groan releases a rush of wetness that welcomes a second finger inside. Smooth glides stretch and fill me with an unthinkable pleasure that questions my morals, but I don’t have time to focus on what’s right or wrong. The building urgency to climax takes precedence over everything. My carnal needs, once again, eradicating all inhibitions of public display as I’m fingerfucked by an alien with an audience.

  My head thrashes from side to side as my orgasm gains momentum. My pelvis curls with every inward stroke as alien-Jason becomes the backdrop to my fantasy. I imagine his rock-hard body pumping freely between my gaping thighs. His hard appendage filling and pleasuring me as I ride him from below.

  The bundle of nerves nestled in the folds of my sex becomes my whole world. Straining and panting, I reach for the apex of pleasure that taunts me. Thrusting upwards, I curl and hold the position of my hips. The male takes the hint and changes his rhythm to something faster, something harder. I shatter into a million pieces, the tunnel of my sex alive with sensation as I squeeze and convulse around what fills me.

  A throaty chuckle breaks through the hypnotic musk. The male’s arrogance the equivalent to a splash of ice water to the face, putting an end to my filthy performance.

  A lively conversation springs up around me, along with hope that they’re pleased with me. As dirty as I feel right now, these males are a better alternative to what awaits me at that marketplace.

  Being rutted by that grotesque beast with bu
lging eyes and hairy arms or spun into a web and carried away to gods only knows what fate, by half-insect, half-man creatures, is a far worse fate than the males gathered around me.

  “We agree the coitus servant is willing, but none will be partaking of anything until this ship is moved as ordered by Xuel,” the male with bad breath says with authority.

  To my utter dismay, the males I thought would soon be lining up to use my willing body to slake their lust head to the wall alien-Jason left through. With a swipe of the gorgeous one’s hand over a panel I hadn’t noticed before, a small square of blue light flashes before the rectangular passageway presents itself like magic.

  Two of the males file out.

  The one with the bad breath halts and turns to the gorgeous one. “Why is Xuel eager to move away from Tirius?”

  “He outbid a Wetokian.”

  “Why would Xuel risk a confrontation with a beast known for having a foul temper? They do not take kindly to losing.”

  “I felt the tremor of the bond with her.”

  With a harsh curse and raised brows, the one with the bad breath makes a cuffing sound before turning eyes on me. After a moment under his intense stare, the male leaves the same way as the others.

  Alone with the gorgeous one, he too looks me over, only his stare is full of reluctance to leave. With a last lingering look over his shoulder, he also leaves me to myself. The room grows quiet as a tomb without the males booming voices, and my pants and moans.

  Rolling to my side, I curl my used body into a ball. The dampness of my sex cooling a dirty reminder of what I’ve become.

  The spell weaved by the males, now threadbare, gives way to the echo of my true self pushing through the fog of musk still haunting the air around me. I hold this weighty dejectedness that threatens me at bay. If there’s one thing life has taught me is that sniveling has never gotten me anywhere.

  Triggered by circumstances I cannot control; I lock down the insecurities of my past. Those seeds of worthlessness my father planted long ago don’t belong here. I breathe deeply of the clearing air. Fresh and pristine, I let the purity of what I’m pulling into my lungs cleanse the new fracture in my soul. Hardened long ago, I must keep the past where it belongs and focus on the challenges before me.