The Alien's Revenge - Ella Maven Page 0,53

He thrust hard, his cock rubbing against my clit through my pants. With a rumbling purr, he rolled me onto my stomach and pulled me up by my hips. I cried out at his rough treatment just as my clit throbbed and I arched my back shamelessly.

He ripped down my pants, and the night air cooled my hot, wet pussy. He bent over my back and the metal ring on his cock dragged through my folds. His hot breath whispered in my ear “She. Is. All,” just as he savagely thrust inside of me.

I bit down on my biceps to suppress my screams as he fucked me. This wasn’t my calm and unsure Drak who tenderly touched me beneath the stars. This was Drak the warrior claiming what was his and fuck, I loved it. I’d never been this wet, and when he fisted a hand into my braids, I let out a long groan of need.

He held me with one hand on my hips, and the other in my hair, keeping me pinned right where he wanted me until I was a shivering, crying mess, begging him to keeping going, to never stop, to never leave me.

And all the while he growled and purred until I came apart on the tip of his cock on a scream, trembling with whole body quakes. He found his release with a roar as his cock pulsed inside of me. We fell to the dirt in a heap of sweaty limbs.

His hands gentled immediately, sifting through my hair to massage my scalp before drifting down to rub at the sore spots on my hip. I didn’t care. If any other man had talked to me or fucked me like that, I would have balked. No one owned me or put me in my place. But this was a Drixonian warrior who had let me know the best way he could how he felt about our future.

I turned my head to see he was watching me, eyes a mellow purple while a bead of sweat trickled down his forehead to wet the dirt below us.

He’d offered me security and a promise with his brief words and a dirty fuck. What else did a girl need, really?

“So now I know,” I said with a husky laugh. “We stay.”

“We stay,” he said.

And even though I knew I’d regret it later, I ignored the brief flare of a smoky curtain he threw up in front of his aura.

Fourteen

Drak

My bike sat before me, strange and yet familiar, the black body gleaming in the sunlight. A younger warrior stood nearby, fidgeting with the cloth he’d used to polish it until I could see my reflection on the surface.

Daz stood nearby, his hands on his hips watching my reaction. I didn’t know what he wanted. Should I be thanking him for returning my property to me? As I examined it, I remembered now, how I’d felt over the loss of power between my legs. I hadn’t used my bike for scouting, but I’d taken rides with Ward sometimes to investigate a disturbance seen with Nero’s eyes. Did I even remember how to ride?

I turned away from it, and walked toward the gates, eager to get on with the mission of the day. Ward called my name, but still I kept walking. He caught up to me and stopped at my side. “We thought you’d want to take the bikes.”

I shook my head. “Know the way … on foot.” I needed to feel the ground under my feet and touch the forest. That was how I knew directions now. Not on the back of a bike soaring above the ground.

Ward waited to see if I’d say anything further, and when I stopped at the gates to wait for them to open, he called over his shoulder. “We’re on foot today.”

“Are you serious?” Sax groaned. “But I just upgraded my footboard—”

“On. Foot.” Daz growled. “Drak has to lead the way. I’m going to guess he’s more comfortable on the ground.”

That made me turn around and give Daz a look. He met my gaze and nodded. Respect for him as a leader, which had always remained dormant in my gut, reared its head. He understood, and I appreciated that.

As soon as I took a step outside the walls of the Night King clavas, I inhaled deeply. The familiar scents of the forest calmed me. Despite knowing I was free to come and go as I pleased from these gates, the walls bothered me.