His to Tame (Alien Masters Book 4) Read online

  At least that’s what she’d been taught in school. But the sight of him, so virile, so powerful even in slumber… Perhaps I’ll question him about his sexual practices if the subject ever arises, purely from a scientific point of view, she told herself.

  * * *

  That had been nearly two months ago.

  He’d been at sustenance level in the pod the entire time. They’d replaced the synthetic fluid, replicated and replaced all the blood he’d lost within the first thirty-six hours. Then, one by one, she’d cloned nearly every major organ in his body and replaced them.

  Meanwhile, James performed a number of cosmetic procedures, erasing all traces of the slashes on his torso. Her patient still had a ragged scar from the stab wound. She’d been waiting until after she replaced his liver to do away with that one, planning to make the laser incision in that spot. The surgery, performed four days ago, had gone well. He had a new liver now, cloned from a piece of his old one. Unlike ancient transplant surgery using bits of organs from others, there was never any danger of the body rejecting a cloned organ.

  Physically, he was as good as he’d been before his injuries. Better, really. She’d even replaced the poorly healed bones she found in a scan of his left arm and shoulder, no doubt the result of a childhood injury. Now he had a strong new humerus and clavicle, grown from splinters she removed. There was really no excuse to keep him sedated any longer. He could be awakened, put through a course of physical therapy, and sent home through the Portal. Back to his people.

  She’d gotten several messages from Ambassador Anderson, inquiring as to his condition. Selena had requisitioned a supply of pencils and paper from the archives and replied to each one, trying to list in layman’s terms the complex procedures she’d performed, each time ending by saying he was stable and resting comfortably.

  The InterStellar Federation sent an official representative on a regular basis as well. He showed up at the lab two days ago, impeccably dressed as always in his purple uniform with gold braid on the collar.

  “How is our Gadolinean visitor this week, doctor?”

  She snapped to attention and saluted. Though she was director of medical services, this man outranked her. “Welcome, Minister Symon. He’s recuperating well. The cloning process is complete and I’ve replaced all of his damaged organs with new ones, sir. I did the final transplant a few days ago.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. Ambassador Anderson has been most insistent that he receive the best care possible. Apparently he’s the foster son of the king of Gadolinium. A beloved member of the family, as well as a national hero. His people are anxiously awaiting his return.”

  He looked down at the slumbering figure. “Did anyone give you the details of how he was wounded?”

  “No, minister. All I know is what I read in the note he had clutched in his hand when he arrived.”

  Apparently Symon was in a talkative mood. He seemed in no hurry to leave.

  “We’ve reviewed a lengthy report from the ambassador,” he said. “Apparently she arrived on Gadolinium in the midst of an invasion by the Tabun, a warlike tribe of Neanderthals driven from Earth thousands of years ago to a planet outside our galaxy. They poured in through another Star Portal on that planet, captured the king and kept him a prisoner in the dungeons of his own palace.”

  He gestured to the glass-enclosed pod. “Haldor here went on a rescue mission with Sigrun’s trusted guards. A raid planned by none other than our own ambassador. She allowed herself to be captured by the Tabun and kept their leader busy while Sigrun’s men sneaked into the palace. They engaged in battle, during which this man threw himself in front of a sword meant for King Sigrun. Anderson made the rash decision to send him to Earth through the Portal, alone, in a desperate attempt to save his life. Those primitive Gadolineans don’t have the advantage of your excellent medical knowledge.”

  She inclined her head, acknowledging the compliment. “My predecessor Director Luther was an inspiring teacher and role model.”

  “Luther, yes. A fine man,” he responded automatically, looking distracted. Symon glanced around the empty lab, then lowered his voice, as though fearing that the unconscious man might hear him. “I think there’s something going on between Anderson and the king’s son Kylar. She’s never said anything directly, but the tone of her reports…” His voice trailed off.

  “Just between you and me, I’m getting a great deal of pressure from above to get this matter resolved quickly.” He shook his head. “Every time we send someone to one of those cursed planets, they start acting strangely. Come back with all sorts of seditious ideas. Lust, that’s what it is. Hormones raging out of control. Causes people to behave in the most irrational ways. Engaging in senseless battle. Putting their lives in danger. That’s why we did away with all those nasty, troublesome urges here on Earth.”

  Symon’s voice rose. “Anderson knows her prime directive is solely to observe and report. Sigrun had plenty of Viking warriors to rescue him. Why she had to insinuate herself into local politics—well, there’s just no excuse for it. If it were up to me, I’d recall her immediately.”

  He stopped suddenly, as though realizing he’d gone too far. “Doctor Reston,” he went on, his tone formal now. “I am here to inform you the federation wants this man returned to Gadolinium as soon as he’s capable of withstanding the journey through the Portal. They would like your estimation of when that will be, so we can inform his people.”

  “Well, Minister Symon, as you can see, he’s still in sleep mode. Once he’s awakened, it will be weeks before he’s fit to travel. He’ll need physical therapy, certainly counseling to deal with the emotional trauma he’s endured.”

  Symon gave her a stern look. “There will be no counseling. Once he’s awakened, the federation has decreed that contact with him be curtailed as much as possible. This man is a barbarian. A dangerous, warlike creature. He has been determined to pose a threat to our way of life. The federation wants him sent back to Gadolinium, Doctor Reston. See that he’s ready to leave. Soon.”

  Now, as she ran the warm cloth slowly over his body, she realized Minister Symon was right about one thing. Proximity to primitive beings apparently did cause Earthers to think and behave strangely. Over the past two months, being so close to the barbarian, she’d found her thoughts constantly dwelling on coitus. She’d become increasingly intrigued with just how his people went about engaging in the forbidden sexual activity.

  And touching him seemed to awaken strange desires in her.

  She thought her response might be caused by the unaccustomed physical intimacy required to care for him. The clinical technician in her theorized that her reaction was probably the result of hormonal imbalance. Being exposed to all that uncontrolled testosterone may have affected her own hormones, normally kept under control by the regular injections all Earthers were required to receive from the time they became adolescents.

  Over the past few weeks, she’d taken over even the most menial of tasks required to care for her patient. Selena told herself it was her duty as head of the facility. She couldn’t risk having Mindy affected the way she had been. The young woman would be traumatized by such intense sexual urges.

  But deep inside she knew it was because she couldn’t bear the idea of another woman’s hands roaming over his body.

  Though she could have used her instruments, Selena laid two fingers on the vein pulsing in his neck, tracking the steady beat of his heart. Strong. Healthy. She’d ordered him moved from the glass-enclosed pod to a regular bed right after the minister’s last visit. And over the last few days, she’d begun lowering the dosage of the drugs that kept him asleep, weaning him off them gradually. She looked down at the peaceful slumbering man and sighed. She hadn’t admitted to anyone, least of all Minister Symon, that he was ready to be awakened.

  Rather than heading home to her sterile, empty apartment, she’d gotten into the habit of spending time with the Viking at the end of every day. She’d started out t
aking his vital signs, checking on his recovery.

  As time went on, she spent hours sitting by his bedside, just as she had when he first arrived. Listening to his breathing. Laying her palm against his chest, as though she could feel his heart beat there with her bare hand. Following the movement of his eyes, flickering back and forth as he slumbered. Wondering what he dreamt about. Yesterday she even shaved him clean. His beard had already begun growing back, a dark shadow on his jaw.

  When he began talking in his sleep, she’d had James install a Tellex chip behind her left ear, just like the ones used by travelers through the Star Portal. After a few hours of exposure to his speech, the device seamlessly translated his language into her brain, allowing her to understand his words.

  He often dreamt of battles, calling out commands, curses, taunts to his enemies. Tossing and turning as though dodging blows all the while. She found that the sound of her voice and the touch of her hand on his brow lulled him back to peaceful rest. She began talking to him more and more whenever she was with him. Lately, she’d even found herself sharing the highlights of her day, as though they were a couple.

  She hadn’t realized how lonely she’d been all her life until she thought of facing the days ahead without these hours by his side.

  Torn by guilt, Selena looked down at her patient. The federation wanted him gone. His king looked forward to a reunion with a beloved foster son. And what if the Viking had a family of his own on Gadolinium, waiting anxiously for his return? Occasionally he muttered something she couldn’t understand when she touched him. Perhaps it was a name. The Tellex chip wouldn’t translate names if they had no modern equivalent. An unaccustomed wave of sadness hit her and she blinked back a tear. A man as handsome and virile as Haldor probably had a beautiful Viking woman back home, desperate to have those strong arms wrapped around her again.

  Selena knew she couldn’t stall any longer. She’d have to awaken him. Tomorrow, she decided.

  She dipped the cloth into a basin of warm water. Wringing it out, she ran it gently over his face. He breathed in and out, slow and regular. She moved to his torso and then down, tracing the ridges of muscle on his abdomen, her mind filling with more of those strange, forbidden images. Images of the Viking running his hands over her body the same way. Leaving her breathless and aching… wanting something for which she had no name.

  Selena never knew what demon possessed her to do what she did next. Always rational. Always proper. It was so unlike her. But they were alone in the lab. He’d be gone soon. She knew she wouldn’t have another chance like this. So she seized it.

  Sliding the sheet down his body, she stared at his penis, then ran the warm cloth over it. It stirred, as though it had a life of its own. She’d seen this reaction before when she bathed him. But this time, she wasn’t content to feel it through a piece of fabric. Selena tossed the cloth into the basin and put her bare hand on his member.

  Such smooth warm skin. She wrapped her fingers around the shaft. Instantly, it began swelling in her hand. Selena felt a shiver of arousal deep in her belly, like the sensation she felt when her vaginal probe started vibrating inside her.

  She ran her palm up and down, fascinated. His penis grew and hardened, until her fingers barely closed around it. He made a low rumbling sound deep in his chest and she stopped, terrified. But his eyes remained closed and she couldn’t resist touching him again.

  Hot. Still sleek and smooth, but now rock hard underneath. A drop of seminal fluid welled up from the opening at the tip. She knew all about that, could recite the exact chemical composition. Had even harvested sperm cells from specimens of donors to create genetically perfect fetuses.

  But she’d never seen it like this, glistening there at the tip of an erect penis. She touched it with a fingertip. Rubbed it around the head of his organ. So warm and slick. The texture of his skin was different there, too. She explored, circled the head.

  His penis jerked in response. Boldly, she traced a bulging vein down his shaft with the same fingertip, all the way to the base. And then lower still, curving her fingers around his testicles. He made another noise, a cross between a sigh and a rough growl, that drove all clinical thoughts from her mind and sent a bolt of lust straight to her core.

  Selena brought her hand back up, closed it around the shaft, and stroked. Slowly. Long, deep strokes from the tip all the way down to the dark thatch of hair at the base. His penis grew even harder in her hand. His breathing quickened.

  When his body tensed and began quivering, she stopped, shocked at the intensity of his reaction. Shame flooded through her. She’d taken advantage of his unconscious state to satisfy her own raging curiosity without a thought to how it would affect her patient. She took her hand away—and choked back a scream as an iron fist shot out and closed around her wrist.

  “So—a wanton wench looks to toy with me as I sleep? Come here, then, and I’ll show you what such wicked behavior deserves.”

  Before she could move, the Viking dragged her body face-down across his. His broad palm came down squarely on her bottom, the harsh smack echoing off the walls.

  Chapter Two

  Dreaming. He must be, though it felt so real he could have sworn he was awake. This time about Hilda, the buxom serving wench in Sigrun’s palace. He’d taken his pleasure with her many a time after a feast. She’d tease and flirt the whole night long. Bending over so her lush breasts rubbed up against his arm. Whispering all sorts of wicked things in his ear as she refilled his mug with ale. Then she’d sashay out of the Great Hall, flashing a naughty grin over her shoulder as she disappeared.

  He’d pursue. Excuse himself from the feast to follow the echo of her giggles as he moved silently through the halls of the palace. Catch her unawares, clapping a hand over her mouth as she rounded a corner in one of the long stone passageways. He’d drag her into an empty room and yank her over his knee. Pulling up her skirt to bare that sweet, plump ass, he’d lecture her sternly about making naughty promises while she squealed in mock dismay. Then he’d spank her wiggling bottom until she swore she’d make all those promises come true.

  In this dream she’d already begun. Her soft palm wrapped around his cock, making it throb with need. Running a fingertip around the head. Sliding up and down the shaft, low slow strokes. Teasing. Even fondling his balls until they swelled and ached for release.

  He lay there with his eyes closed. Letting the hunger build for just a few moments longer. Soon he’d take over. Bend her face-down across the wooden table in the corner of the room and plunge himself deep in her molten core. Pounding into her again and again. Fucking her hard until she had to bite her fist to keep from uttering screams of passion that might be mistaken for pain and draw in an unwanted rescuer.

  Wait. What was this? The little vixen stopped. Pulled her hand away. He let out a low growl. She’d been teasing again. Provoking him to give her a spanking, as always. She loved it when he warmed the cheeks of her ass before he buried himself in her hot, tight center. And he loved it too. Feeling her skin grow hot under his palm. Seeing those twin moons turn rosy red as she confessed all the wild, wanton things she’d do if he’d only stop.

  Eyes still closed, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her across his body. He reached for her gown to bare her bottom. But instead of a linen skirt, his hand encountered some sort of silken fabric covering her ass, then separating to wrap around each leg. Frustrated, he gave her a firm smack right at the spot where the lush curves met the top of her thighs—and heard a scream.

  Haldor’s eyes popped open. Though he lay in a soft white bed, this was no dream. And the slim body lying over his crotch encased in a slippery white second skin was not his well-padded Hilda.

  The female struggled, writhing against his stiff cock. Still half in the throes of his dream, he brought his hand down again with a loud smack. Hilda or no, this wench deserved to be punished for awakening his manhood and then trying to creep away without finishing what she’d started. He whacked her again, ha
rder, his broad palm covering nearly her entire bottom with one stroke.

  She let out an ear-splitting shriek.

  “Stop it! Let me go!”

  “Not a chance,” he growled. “Unlike you, I don’t stop something once I’ve begun, not till I’ve finished it. And you won’t ever again, either, once I’m through with you.”

  He draped one arm over her waist, holding her down easily over his body, letting her wiggle as he whacked her bottom again and again. She stopped dead, as though she’d just realized her wild gyrations simply ground her against his cock, making it even stiffer.

  He sat up, only to fall back against the pillow, suddenly weak as a newborn lamb. Bright lights shone in his eyes, glaring off walls as dazzling as a hunk of quartz glistening in the suns. The room began whirling in circles, as though he’d polished off one too many pitchers of honey mead.

  “Where are we?” he roared. “And what in the name of all the gods have you done to me, wench?”

  * * *

  Selena braced her palms against his thigh and shoved backward until her feet were touching the floor again. Shaking, she took two steps back, out of range of those powerful arms. Even after two months of inactivity, he was still frighteningly strong.

  She’d miscalculated. Badly. Reducing the dosage way too much, not taking into account the rate at which his increased muscle mass would metabolize the drugs. Now she had a wide-awake, angry, sexually aroused primitive warrior to deal with.

  He glared at her. Well, I was half-right about Vikings. No blond hair, but you do have blue eyes. She stopped herself just in time from blurting it out, choking down a nervous burst of laughter.

  Selena took a deep breath and forced herself to remain calm. Surely the huge man was still too weak to do her any real harm. She’d just been caught off guard or he’d never have been able to… to… Her bottom stung but she couldn’t bring herself to say the word, even in her mind.