Marauder Cygnus: A Scifi Alien Shifter Romance (Mating Wars Book 1) (6 page)

“Okay,” I say. “I don’t mean to interrupt your religious experience here, but can you please put that teal cock into my holy pussy?”

I turn around, grasp the handrail, and bend over.

I feel him grab me, and his vibrating dick slides up against me. His dick is soaked with lube, and my pussy is still wet from my last orgasm.

He slides back and forth a few times, and just as I start to feel impatient, his head enters me.

I gasp, it’s warmer than I could have imagined, and the vibration is incredible. I’d never used a vibrating dildo before, because it felt...robotic and impersonal. But having a flesh and blood cock attached to a god of a man—or alien in this case—what a world of difference!

His rod is too big and thick at first, but the wet lube fills me as he slides in and out. He doesn’t enter deep, as just the head is already stretching me wide.

But with each entry, he works his way deeper inside of me, and I feel my own wetness combine with his. He stretches me wider and plunges deeper into me. The vibration seems to be helping things along, as his dick feels constantly in motion even when he holds still.

He grabs my breasts and pinches my nipples, and when I start to moan, he presses his hand over my mouth, stifling my cries.

I scream into his hand, and he drives deep down into me, going several inches at once.

It’s good that his hand is big and tight against my mouth, because I scream without abandon into it as his big teal dick fills me all the way up. I feel his balls slap against my skin as he penetrates me to full depth.

“Will you scream again if I let go?” he whispers.

I nod with his hand still pressed against my mouth, so he doesn’t release me. He’s protecting me from the pirates by not letting me scream and moan. It seems ridiculous, but I have to appreciate how much he’s taking charge of the situation. He’s an efficient multitasker: he can fuck me raw and keep me safe.

The vibration is hitting my g-spot, and I feel my inner walls squeezing and writhing all along his cock. He starts to thrust, pulling almost all the way out before hammering back deep inside me. I scream into his hand again and again as he pounds me. He grunts with exertion, but still keeps his voice relatively low.

The loudest thing in the cockpit is the sound of our skin slapping together wet and sweaty, soaked in cum and alien dick-lube.

Cygnus reaches around my waist and fingers my clit as his dick slides in and out of me.

He presses his lips against my neck as he fucks me, and I can feel his hot breath on the back of my neck. His breathing quickens as he rams in and out of me, and my own breath condenses humidity against his hand. I moan into his palm.

He slaps his free hand hard against my ass, spanking me, and the intensity of the slap surprises me. The pain flares up across my ass, burning hot.

“If you don’t stop screaming,” he whispers into my ear, “I’ll hit you again.”

I scream louder into his hand, wanting him to hit me.

He slaps me hard in the same spot, and plunges his cock deep inside.

The stinging pain dances across my nerves, and my adrenaline surges in response. I’ve never been spanked before and I’m surprised at just how much I like it.

I scream louder and Cygnus laughs.

“I see you, Aura,” he says. “I’m trying to punish you, but you like it. You’ll not trick me.”

He adjusts his grip onto my waist, and he begins to pump me with animalistic intensity.

The juices from both of us are leaking out, and they float across the cockpit in zero-g. I hope our come won’t damage any of the instruments, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.

I feel all the contours of his big veiny cock penetrating me relentlessly, and my breasts bounce back and forth in zero-g as I grip tight to the handrail. His sweaty and muscular abs slide across my back, and he moves the position of his hands to hook over my shoulders.

He speeds up his thrusting even more, the vibration increasing in intensity, as well. My pussy starts surging against him. It squeezes and writhes at a frantic pace. It seems to have taken on a mind of its own: it wants to milk Cygnus for all he’s worth and coax his hot alien seed to spill and fill me up.

“Holy Seraphim!” he blurts, as my pussy squeezes and holds him. “I have seen Her!”

He starts to grunt, and I see thick white cream floating out of me as he rams me hard. I begin to climax and it feels like an electric current that jolts through me.

He’s no longer holding my mouth shut, so I settle on releasing a wailing hum rather than screaming and moaning.

It feels as if every last endorphin in my body has been released, and my body trembles beneath Cygnus’ alien strength and power. I feel his cock begin to twitch within me.

“Yes!” he snorts. “Yes!”

His voice is louder than it’s been, even he’s not able to keep quiet now.

Drool escapes from my mouth as my fingers and toes twitch against the power of my climax, and I feel Cygnus’ thick and creamy cum pumping into my pussy.

His seed fills me entirely, and then I see it spilling out of me and floating across the cockpit. It’s teal-colored.

His cock vibrates with fury and twitches a half -dozen times; more teal cum floats across the cockpit in spheres and rivulets.

I laugh and giggle and cry simultaneously, and he continues orgasming. He comes much longer and more intensely than any human man, and he produces so much fucking cum that I worry we’ll spend hours cleaning it up.

His orgasm starts to die down, and I feel his cock’s vibrations finally subsiding. He holds himself still, his cock balls-deep inside me. We stay like that until the vibrations stop entirely.

“Cygnus,” I say quietly, feeling his cock softening within me. “That was...incredible.”

“Yes,” he says. “The way your insides clenched against me, and the overwhelming wetness...and to think you had just orgasmed! Minutes before!”

He pulls out of me and I turn back to face him. “How many times can you come? Just once per cycle?”

I know it’s a somewhat selfish question, but I need to know what I’m getting into. Even if he can only fuck me like that once per month—or however long one of his cycles lasts—it’s well worth the wait.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“You said you’d never seen a woman who could come more than once per cycle, what about you?”

“I’m a man,” he says. “A dominant male.”

“Which means?” I prompt.

“I come when a female does,” he says. “Typically a dominant male can take any number of women and he can fill them all up one after another.”

I open my mouth, but no words come out. “You….” I start to say. “You want to take more women?”

He narrows his eyes at me. “No.... Don’t you understand?”

He cups my face in both of his hands and gazes at me with fierce intensity.

“No,” I say. “I don’t.”

“We’ve attained the Seraphic Form! It’s growing now within you, our child. Even the bear agrees with me, you’re my lifemate.”

I
’ve forgotten
about the pirates.

Aura. I can think only of Aura.

Still I must save my brother, if only to tell him how right he was. If only to help him find his own lifemate.

Aura is all that matters now.... Aura and the child growing inside her. I know how strong my seed is, and I don’t need any equipment to check that she is now pregnant. Our child will mean the end to my race’s nomadic lifestyle.

Or war, I realize. Not everyone will embrace the Seraphim. I must find my brother and work with the humans. I must secure a future for my child and lifemate.

“We’re clear now,” Seth’s voice says. “You better get in the shuttle while you still can.”

Aura floats over and grabs me. She’s jammed a number of supplies into a big bag, which she straps to her back. I’m ravenously hungry, especially after the divine exertion of procreation, and I already cooked and ate the last of the rations. Aura saved the last of the meat strips—the bacon—for me.

The bio-suit would have already been ready had I not lacked food or hibernated. It’s still immature, and I don’t know how much food will be available on the Martian surface.

I follow Aura into the shuttle, which is barely large enough for the two of us. There are two chairs, and I’m too big for mine. My knees are pressed into the edge of the wall and I must bend my head down so I don’t hit the ceiling. I’m wearing the clothes Aura has made for me. My penis presses uncomfortably up against the pants. It’s a curious design, as the penis—which is meant to hang down along a male’s line of symmetry—is forced either to the left or right. It seems an arbitrary decision, but I put my penis to the left, as it feels slightly more comfortable in that position.

It’s not comfortable, however, when I become erect. The pants are not designed for that, and the erection presses uncomfortably against the cloth. Human males must have much smaller penises in order to wear pants all the time. All of the pirates I killed wore pants, even though there were no women around.

“Good luck, Aura...and Cygnus,” Seth says.

“I’m bringing you with me,” Aura says. “Upload into the dropship.”

“But how can I watch over the
Zephyr
?” Seth asks.

“I’m going to sell the
Zephyr
,” Aura says. “But not you.”

“Why are you selling the ship?” I ask.

“I have no money. Nothing of value. Mars is a harsh place, and even after selling the ship we’ll be lucky if that holds us over for even a few weeks.”

She looks sad. I can tell she is emotionally attached to the ship.

“I see,” I say. “Aura, I am adept at surviving in harsh environments. We will flourish there.”

She gives me an uneasy look, as if she doesn’t believe me.

“Did you believe me when I told you of my mastery with all weapons?”

“Uh,” she says. “No, not really.”

“Well believe me now,” I say. “You are safe with me. We will flourish here.”

She smiles and squeezes my hand.

“I’m in the shuttle now,” Seth says.

“Alright,” Aura says. “Let’s go.”

I feel a jerk and a brief thrust. The g-force increases for a few seconds, and then zero-g returns.

I squeeze Aura’s hand back and look through the window. I see nothing but blackness, but soon the shuttle begins to rumble as we hit the atmosphere. The rumbling intensifies, and Aura holds me tighter.

The heat dies down and we begin to glide.

A joystick deploys, and Aura uses it to control the shuttle throughout the descent.

I look out the window, but am surprised to see nothing but red and lifeless terrain. There are occasional algae blooms and patches of greenery, but it’s largely a red and cracked desert.

“Where are the cities?” I ask.

“Far and few between,” Aura says. “We’re landing outside of a city called Rust Bucket. It’s where I sell my scrap, and it’s where most of my contacts are.”

“Rust bucket,” I repeat. “Do they insult themselves?”

“No,” Aura says. “It’s built in a small crater, so it’s shaped like a shallow bucket. And it’s on Mars...so rust.”

“How do we know my brother landed near here?” I ask.

“We don’t, but all of my contacts are near Rust Bucket, so we have to start here. We’ll do everything we can to find your brother, but first we have to figure out how to survive here. It won’t be easy.... I’d expect Scorpio has put some kind of bounty on us, so even walking into the city together will be a huge risk.

The surface is close now, and Aura stops talking to focus. She has no window, but the lenses on her eyes are giving her a full view of the surface, or so she’s told me.

I watch through my tiny window as the ground comes up fast on us, and at the last moment she pulls a lever.

I hear a hiss of air, and suddenly the window is covered by something.

“Airbags,” she says. “They completely cover the shuttle, and we just kind of bump all over the place until we grind to a halt. Hold tight!”

I feel a slam, and my stomach churns. We are jostled violently, and I am jerked forward against my restraints. Soon the vibrations die down and we stop moving.

“Okay,” Aura says. “We didn’t die.”

“I thought you make this run regularly,” I ask her.

She undoes her harness and stands up. “I do, and every single time I’m in disbelief that I don’t die.”

“A harsh place indeed,” I shake my head.

She opens a panel and pulls out some masks.

“You have to put this on,” she says. “It’s warmer than it used to be on Mars, so as long as we bundle up, we won’t die from exposure, but there’s not enough oxygen in the atmosphere. If you lose your mask, if your hose gets cut, or if your tank goes dry...you’ll pass out in a few minutes, and you’ll be dead in ten.”

She looks me over, then says, “Well, that’s how it is for humans. But since you breathed the air on the ship just fine, I’m just assuming it’s similar for you.”

“We are more adaptable than you,” I tell her. “It’s possible I can do without the mask. I need very little oxygen.”

She forces it into my hands. “No, you need to wear this big jacket with a hood to cover your alien-looking ears and purple skin and the mask to cover your face. It’s bad enough that you’re seven-feet tall, but you’re going to need to do your best to look and act human. You think you can handle that?”

I nod. I realize that Scorpio—and many others—would kill to capture me. I must keep a low profile so as to not endanger my lifemate.

I put on the big jacket and affix the mask. The jacket compresses the bio-suit sphere, but it’s adaptable and spreads itself out along my arm. I can feel my stomach churning and tearing with hunger, but I will not complain. I will find a source of food for Aura and me. She’s shamed me enough already by providing me so many of her own rations.

She hands me a medium-sized blade. It’s only about the length of my hand, but it will do. “It’s the only weapon I have left.... I should have carried more than one gun.”

“It’s my fault,” I say. “It would have been wise to have taken more of the pirates’ weapons. But this blade will suffice.”

“Let’s go,” I say.

“Aren’t you going to put away the knife?”

“Why?” I ask. “We will look like weak targets.”

“Subtlety,” she says. “Most people on Mars will have guns. If you’re carrying a knife, they’ll assume you don’t have a gun, and they’ll try to shoot you.”

This woman—my lifemate—is wiser than I could have imagined. How can a female learn so much about the nature of combat and aggression?

“I will conceal the blade,” I say.

I tuck it into my jacket.

I open the jacket and put the blade into one of the pockets. It’s slow and awkward compared to my bio-suit, but I cannot argue with Aura’s logic.

The gravity on this planet is quite low, but I spent several cycles training on a planet with a similar gravity. I grin in anticipation.

“Ready?” Aura asks.

I nod, and the door opens.

Cold rushes in, but it’s much less frigid than I’d expected. Women must always feel cold.

I step outside first. In case there is some type of ambush, I must be ready to protect her.

I step outside and let my inner bear rise up, but I do not shift. I just need access to its heightened senses.

I hear everything around the shuttle. Every last piece of dust rustling across the rocks.

There’s a gale of wind, and red dust sweeps across me. I’ve been outside for only moments, and my clothes are already covered in dust.

My ears twitch, and far in the background I hear an electric droning, and men laughing.

Aura begins to step outside, but I push her back into the shuttle. “Someone is coming.”

I point to the hill. “Just on the other side of this hill. Stay inside, lock the door. I’ll handle this.”

“Wait,” she stalls. “Cygnus, I need to see who it is first. I have friends—okay, not quite friends— but acquaintances here. I’m guessing it’s going to be three guys on a buggy.”

“They ride on a bug?” I ask, astonished.

“A buggy,” she says. “It’s a thing with four wheels.”

My ears hone in on the sound, and I watch the hill. I grip the handle of the blade within my coat.

The buggy bumps lazily over the hilltop, and it begins descending the hill toward us.

When I turn around, Aura is already waving her arms.

I go to shove her back inside, but she says, “No, Cygnus, it’s Baxter. He’s cool.”

“All humans must feel cold here. Is Baxter even colder?”

“I mean he’s not going to kill us,” she says. “He’s an okay person.”

“I see.” I tuck my ears back and watch the buggy approach, but I do not let go of the knife.

The buggy stops just a few meters away from us, and just as Aura said, there are three men. They’re all wrapped up in thick jackets with big facemasks. The tallest of the three jumps off the buggy and pulls back his hood.

He has wild black and grey hair, and it’s caked with the red dust of the surface.

“Aura,” he shouts, his voice distorted by the face mask. “Who’s your friend? He’s...tall.”

“This is Garrett,” she says, looking at me. “Hired gun.”

The other two men jump off the buggy, and I pull the blade partially out of the pocket, readying myself to strike.

“That’s good,” Baxter says. “It’s getting rougher down here with the war heating up. A lot more piracy, and the orbitals don’t give a flying fuck what happens down here.”

“Did they ever?” Aura asks.

Baxter laughs and reaches his hand out to me.

“Shake it,” Aura hisses behind me.

I grab his hand, and we’re both wearing gloves, so it feels awkward. I squeeze lightly, and Baxter’s body doubles over.

“Shit! Okay, dude, I got it, you’ve got a strong grip.... Jesus!”

He flaps his hand and hops up and down. It seems I’ve damaged him.

“I am...Garrett,” I say. The name sounds strange on my tongue.

“Baxter,” he says. “And these two bums behind me are Sherlock and Gusto.”

“So,” Baxter says, turning to face Aura. “What you got for us, sweetie?”

I grab Baxter by his collar and pull him in. “What did you call her?”

“Ah! Shit!” Baxter says.

“You’ll not call her that! Please!” I shout into his face. The facemasks are all tinted, so we cannot see each other’s’ faces. The hood is still covering my ears.

“Sorry, sorry!” he cries.

I let go of him.

I hear Aura stifling laughter through her facemask. She seems to find humor in almost anything. It’s an admirable trait.

“Um, well,” she says. “I’ve got nothing for you, to be honest.”

“Nothing….” Baxter says. “I don’t run a charity, you know. You want me to guard the shuttle while you’re down in the Bucket, you’re going to need to give me something worth my time.”

“I had a new deal in mind,” Aura says. “You can take the whole shuttle, scrap it.”

“What are you hiring us to guard then?” Baxter asks.

“I have a hired gun,” Aura says. “But we have no gun.”

“The shuttle for a gun?” Baxter says, looking it up and down. “That’s fair.”

“Two guns,” Aura snaps back. “And some rations.”

“One gun,” Baxter says. “And I can throw in some jerky, I guess.”

I’m impressed by this exchange. Among my race, we would simply battle each other and the winner would take everything. This is...subtle. Each party can walk away alive and with something they need.

Baxter turns toward Sherlock and mumbles something. Sherlock walks back to the buggy and opens up a cargo hold on the back. He rummages through, sticking his head way down into the hold.

He pops back out with a weapon in his hand. It’s a small pistol, and it’s as red and rusted as the surface of the planet. There are a few flecks of black, which must have been the original color.

“Let’s see,” Sherlock says. “This is your classic Mark VI, a real collector’s item.” He grabs the top of the gun and pulls back. I hear a rough grating sound, like coarse grains of sand cracking, and the weapon half cocks, then jams. Sherlock ducks down and tries again, and the weapon grinds all the way back, and clicks.

“It’s only got three bullets,” Baxter says. “Like I said, it’s a collector’s item...the bullets are even more valuable than the gun! I can have Sherlock test fire it for you, but then you’d be down to two bullets.”

I take a long stride forward toward Baxter, and I reach into his inside jacket pocket. I feel cold, oiled metal, and I tear the item out of his jacket.

I draw the knife, pull Baxter’s body against my own, and raise the gun at Sherlock.

Gusto starts to slowly fumble into his jacket, but I shout at him.

“Do not try to draw your weapon. Please! Or I will kill him.” I press the knife flush against Baxter’s thick scarf, and then I pull it up to expose the skin. I settle the cold metal against his throat.

Gusto raises his hands into the air.

“Shit,
Garrett
, what are you doing?” Aura hisses behind me, but I ignore her.

Sherlock has the rusty Mark VI gun pointed at me.

“If you pull that trigger,” I shout over to Sherlock. “And the gun doesn’t work, I will kill all three of you. Do you want to risk that? Will you risk your lives on this gun functioning properly?”