Conquering His Queen: A Sci-Fi Alien Romance (Zalaryn Conquerors Book 1) Read online

  “Yes,” Vano says. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Right now, they need all you humans here to care for the cattle. But once the cattle’s gone?”

  “They’ll come for us,” Stine says and now I can see that he’s starting to believe.

  “They will come sooner than later,” Vano says. “Which is why I am issuing a royal edict.”

  There is a chorus of questions from the councilors, and I fight to maintain my composure. This is the first I’ve heard of a royal edict.

  “All human families with young women are to evacuate immediately. I don’t need to remind you of the other commodity that the Rulmek trades in, but I will anyway. They are flesh traders. Slavers. Any young woman age thirteen to thirty-five shall be relocated, along with their families, if desired. This will go a long way toward making this planet an undesirable target for the Rulmek.”

  “Wait a moment,” I say to him quietly while the councilors erupt amongst themselves. Vano has not mentioned anything about starting the evacuations now. “You said that evacuations wouldn’t start for a few months.”

  “That was before I got some intelligence,” he says. “I had Bantokk and Orlon perform some mathematical forecasting on the numbers of cattle in the herds. The rate at which they are exsanguinating the cattle is increasing. The Rulmek will deplete the livestock sooner than we thought.”

  “We cannot evacuate now,” I say. My words are much louder than I expected—and are perfectly timed to the exact moment when all the councilors stop talking. Everyone in the great hall has heard me question Vano’s edict.

  Vano fixes me with a look that would make me shrink back if I wasn’t so keenly aware that I am being watched by all of my councilors. They erupt in a rabble so loud I can barely hear it when Vano pulls me close and whispers in my ear.

  “Do not contradict me in public,” he whispers. “I have already warned you about this. Have you forgotten? Do you need a reminder?”

  “No,” I say. My voice is hoarse, my mouth suddenly dry. The councilors are still arguing, and the din fills the room.

  “I think you’ve forgotten,” he says. “I should strip you nude right now, bend you over the throne and let all your councilors see you with a huge Zalaryn cock filling you up. Let them watch as you’re helpless to come all over it as I thrust in and out. That would remind them—and you—who’s really in charge now.”

  “Please, don’t,” I manage to croak, but in truth, his words have flooded my loins with a heat so intense I am not sure how I will manage it. I do not actually wish for him to do that to me—the shame would be unbearable. I would never be able to look any of my subjects in the eye after they witnessed such a debasement. But for some reason, the suggestion has stirred desire I never knew I had.

  “You would probably like it,” he whispers. “I can tell by your blushing face that your little pussy’s pulsing and wet right now. But I would never do such a thing. You’re mine—and I do not share. But you need a reminder. You keep acting like you’re in charge, when both you and I know that it’s me who rules this planet now. When we get back, I’m going to take your virginity. You will be mine. I will own you completely. And you’ll never forget it.”

  The crowd is starting to get under control, but then one of the councilors yells, “Are you thinking we are so stupid that we don’t notice the coincidence? The Zalaryns show up right at the same time as the Rulmek? This is very suspicious.”

  Many councilors roar their agreement.

  “Fools,” Vano shouts. The room is silent. “The day the Zalaryns landed is the luckiest day in this planet’s pitiful history. Mark it on your calendar and celebrate it every year. Right now, there’s only one thing standing in the way of the Rulmek: Me. And I say that we will start evacuations of the young women and their families immediately.”

  The uproar in the room is deafening. Vano turns to me, and he doesn’t even need to whisper to avoid being heard. He is looking at me with a mix of fury and desire—a combination that makes my knees weak and my stomach flip.

  “I didn’t mean to—” I start to apologize. “But you can’t evacuate so soon.” Am I being too soft? If I really want to save my people, perhaps evacuation is the best choice. Better to evacuate than stay here for slaughter or worse. Soft hearts and hot heads ruin civilization, my father always said. Maybe evacuation is tough love and best for my people. Maybe I don’t have the hard disposition required to make the tough choices.

  “The royal bedchambers,” he says. I notice that his chest has turned that odd shade of purple again. And there’s something about him that I can’t quite place. Something irresistible. If I’ve got the soft heart, Vano definitely has the hot head. He’s blazing right now, a ball of heat and energy and pure potent masculinity that I cannot resist. “Now. It’s time. Deliver your letters and meet me in the corridor.” He leaves me on the dais, stunned and uncomfortably warm and slippery between my legs. I’m dreadfully nervous but, at the same time, excited for what’s about to happen. He fills me with such desire; I need him to release it.

  Soft hearts and hot heads. That’s me and Vano. Together—maybe we’ll be able to save this planet.

  Or ruin it.

  I take the three letters out of my dress pocket and look at them. One is for the Astronomer, one is for Stine, and one is for Yar.

  I stare at the names on the outside of the envelopes, still unable to believe that one of them is trying to kill me.

  We are walking up the staircase, my hand in Vano’s. His chest is flushed that deep, dark purple. It’s the color of a summer gourd, the color of an early afternoon storm, the color of a black hole in the deepest reaches of the universe. I know he is feeling something powerful, some lust or desire that humans cannot comprehend. All I can comprehend is my own storming, black hole of desire.

  I delivered the three envelopes to the intended recipients, but my mind was elsewhere. The entire time I walked, I was painfully aware of the inside of my thighs rubbing against my slippery sex, my clit feeling so big that it was sticking out between my lips, every step I took bringing torturous, gliding pressure.

  Vano has yet to reveal his full plan with the letters, but I can only imagine it involves some trickery. He is right, of course, when he says that he knows what he’s doing, that he has experience in espionage and political intrigue. Me? I have experience wearing pretty gowns and giving courtly compliments. Does anyone ever feel like they are grown up? Surely Vano does. I can’t imagine him feeling like an impostor the way I do.

  We arrive at the door to my bedchamber. Our bedchamber. It is time for me to surrender my body to the alien invader. To let him claim the virginity that I pledged would be his.

  He opens the door and I walk inside. Though it is my own room, it feels like I’m entering for the first time. Everything feels strange now with the surreal quality of a dream.

  “You are the most exquisite creature I have ever seen,” he says. Before I can say anything, he takes the collar of my gown in both hands and rips it apart. The dress is torn in two pieces, and he lets them fall to the floor. He looks at me with eagerness and lust that mirrors my own perverse desire. No male—human or alien or otherwise—has ever looked at me like this. When Stine looks at me, he sees my title and my power. When Yar looks at me, he sees duty and obligation. When the councilors look at me, they see an obstacle to their will being enacted in the marketplace or on the farmlands.

  But Vano? He just wants me.

  “You have struggled against my leadership,” he says. “You have tried to undermine me. I know you aren’t doing it on purpose. You are a Queen. It’s against your nature to share your power.”

  “I am no Queen,” I say. He has ripped off my dress, but more than just my body is laid bare. “You are right. I am naught but a spoiled girl playing at being Queen.”

  “This is not true,” Vano says. He puts his hands on my hips and draws me close. His hands feel so familiar, so right as they grip my waist. He threads his fingers into my hair
and draws me in for a kiss. I part my lips and feel my entire body melt in his arms as he kisses me. The tips of our tongues dancing together ignites a fire between my legs. He pulls away, breathless. I realize this is the most flustered I have ever seen him. He is close to losing control.

  “You are strong. You are a real Queen. That’s why you fight me. But it’s time that we stop fighting each other. We will bond. We will be one. You will see. After, we will be a united front. Nothing will be able to stop us. Would you like that?”

  He whispers this last in my ear, his voice so low, so authoritative, that it sends a shiver rippling through my entire body. Gooseflesh erupts, and my nipples bunch into tingling knots.

  “I would,” I say. I’m not sure what he’s talking about, all this business about bonding. I am, however, more than ready to give him my body. I want to feel him inside me. I want to know the pleasure of surrendering completely to the carnal desires that have been growing between us.

  Bonding? I don’t know what he means by that, beyond the obvious physical act we are about to engage in. He has a lot of fancy words about fates intertwining, and I know that his race takes it seriously—whatever it is.

  “There will be no going back,” he says. “I don’t care about the consequences. I’m going to claim you. I’m going to mark you, make you mine. I will be your first and your last, and I will own you. You will always need me, always desire me. You’re my mate. And I will be yours. I will always need you, always desire you. We have little choice in this. I know that now. The universe has decreed it. I was stupid to think I could resist.”

  He lowers me onto the bed and covers his body with mine. We kiss as our chests and hips press together, and I start to feel some of what he’s talking about—the bonding. There is a tingling in my own chest now, a hot glow spreading to fill me up. Am I drunk on the bonding chemicals? Because that’s what it feels like. It feels like I am instantly and severely addicted to Vano, addicted to his touch, his presence, his warmth and grace. Being with him fills me with a feeling of such profound calm and contentment, I know I could never live without it. I would do anything to get this feeling, to maintain this pure joy that I’m experiencing now with him.

  “I have to taste you,” he says. He sniffs the air. “Holy Void, your pussy smells so sweet, I can’t stand it.” He parts my knees just an inch or so. I close my eyes, feeling more than just the lust that’s consumed my thoughts. That lightheaded feeling is back, the calm contentedness. Then I feel his mouth on me. My legs are not spread open, I am not unfolded to him. He opens his mouth and sucks, pulling my clit through my lips. The pads on his tongue sweep against me, and I can feel every bump and ridge as it drags across my sensitive nub. He growls, and the sound reverberates, sending a deeper shiver through my bones. I already feel an orgasm building, and he must sense it, because he pulls away, pushing my knees apart.

  “No coming until my cock’s inside you,” he says. “Then you can come all you want.”

  “Then put it inside me,” I pant. He traces a finger between my lips, over the swollen protrusion of my clit. When he gets there, I gasp. His touch is so light, so maddeningly delicate. He puts his face between my legs again, and I feel his tongue, just the tip, dancing a little trail over my sex.

  “I will,” he says. “But you taste so fucking good, I can’t help it. I can smell how aroused you are. I can sense how engorged your cunt is. It’s going to feel so good.”

  I squirm underneath him, unable to help myself. My eyeballs feel like they’re going to explode if I don’t find release. His mouth is soft and warm, his tongue’s texture driving me insane.

  “Get up,” he says. “On your hands and knees.”

  I don’t hesitate. He positions himself behind me. I feel his erection press against my opening. I have never had anything inside me before. I was always too nervous to even explore with my own fingers. Nothing at all, and the first thing I’m going to have inside me is the throbbing cock of the alien invader who wants to steal my planet.

  “Push back,” he says. “Lower yourself onto my cock. I want you to do it, to fuck yourself on my hard cock. I want you to feel every inch as it stretches you out and breaks you in.”

  I push back a little bit, and my lips part. It feels so strange, to be held wide open like that, my lips so far apart, my opening starting to stretch. I push back more and feel his tip press deeper.

  I take him in a little more, but there’s resistance. I’ve heard girls whisper about that, about having to be broken in the first time, how the man’s got to push through and how much it hurts.

  I want Vano to do it. I want to lie down and open my legs and let him push himself inside me.

  But he’s making me do it. He wants me to be the one to do it because this way it takes more nerve, more determination on my part.

  I grind my hands into the bed and tilt my hips. He groans as my wet, slick essence coats his tip. I push back more, but it isn’t going inside. He’s too big, I think. It barely fits inside my mouth. How can I expect it to fit inside me down there?

  “Come on, my little Queen,” he says. “I can’t wait until you’re gripping my whole shaft.” He reaches around to cup my breasts, one in each hand. His fingers find my nipples and start to play with them.

  I lower myself down further, feeling his hard length disappear a little deeper inside me. Then, I feel something give way, and in a split second, he is inside me. That feeling of being held open is more intense. My opening grips his erection tightly, and I move forward and feel it withdraw. Then I push again and it fills me back up.

  This sensation is like nothing else I’ve experienced, nothing I’ve ever imagined. The filling, the withdrawing. The hard length sliding in and out, stretching me open. There is no pain, nothing like the girls whispered about. I suspect it’s because of the fluids that coat my opening, my lips, the inside of my thighs. It’s so slippery, so inviting.

  I find a rhythm, pushing myself back and forth, up and down, sliding along his hard alien cock as he presents it for my use.

  “Does it feel good?” he asks after I’ve worked it inside.

  “It’s not good,” I say. “It’s better than good. Good isn’t an appropriate word. My language is insufficient.”

  “Mine is, too,” he says. “We are bonded mates now.” He pulls himself out and flips me over so I am on my back. “And now it’s time for me to enjoy what is mine by right.” He gets between my legs, and I wrap them around his muscular back. He thrusts into me, slow at first, then building speed. At first, it’s pleasant enough, but then he puts his hands under my rump and tilts it up just a little bit. That small change of angle does it. Every thrust is like he’s hitting against some secret pleasure button deep inside me. I start to make shamefully wanton noises, but I don’t care if the servants hear.

  I feel a strange calm come over me, very strong and very distinct. It is not unlike the quality of one or two cups of strong wine by the fireplace before bedtime.

  This is it. The bonding. The thing he speaks of, the chemicals and hormones binding together, our genetic material combining.

  It was all true.

  Now I know that I am bound to him, our fates forever intertwined. Before he was the King in name only.

  But now he is my King, truly, inside the silence of my heart.

  I thrust into her, unable to resist. I was stupid to even try.

  This is my fate, this woman. She’s mine, and I claim her. Her cunt is wrapped around my cock, the dual sensations of slipperiness and grip driving all other thoughts from my mind.

  I brush the loose strands of hair from her face and look down at her. She is beautiful beyond measure, her eyes squeezed shut in mysterious and overwhelming pleasure.

  I lean down and cover her mouth with mine. Even having my cock inside her is not enough. I need our mouths to connect, our bodies to push flat. Our bond is strong, drawing me to her, drawing me into her.

  She starts to moan louder, not the prim and proper nois
es of royalty. She is consumed by her pleasure, by the bonding, and the noises coming out of her mouth are raw and primal—a carnal song she performs only for my ears.

  I rise up so I can watch her. She is close to her orgasm, and I want to see her face as it contorts in the untold delights I am giving to her. I push into her slowly, and she squeals.

  “You feel so good. So damned tight,” I say. “How does my cock feel? Do you like it?”

  “Yes,” she gasps. She opens her eyes and stares at me. It’s like a bolt of heat straight to my cock. I’m not going to be able to last much longer. This female, she’s all I ever needed, all I ever wanted. Everything, right underneath me, squealing and writhing and ready to come.

  “Show your King how much you enjoy his cock,” I say. “Let your King watch you come.”

  She holds my gaze, and though her eyes are clouded by lust, I feel the intensity of her stare right to my core. She starts to breathe faster, and her hips are rocking a more urgent rhythm against me. She grinds into me as I thrust, our bodies and fates and everything entirely in sync.

  “Oh, fuck,” she screams. She is coming, her orgasm possessing every facet of her being. Her body is tense, and her cunt clamps down on my cock as if willing it deeper inside. She bucks her hips and throws her head back, utterly undone.

  That is when I feel my own orgasm speeding down. I thrust harder into her, eager for my release. I groan and push deeper, feeling my seed spurt inside of her in thick waves.

  I collapse onto the bed, taking her in my arms.

  It is complete. For better or worse, I have claimed her. I own her. She is mine. Those are the words I whispered in her ear during the council meeting. I was trying to rile her, trying to assert my dominance.

  But now I realize those words were true.

  And now that I own her, she is my responsibility.

  I have made my choice, and I will face the consequences—though it wasn’t much of a choice. The universe put me on the ship to Lekyo Prime, put me in Bryn’s bed, stitched our fates together.