Mated to the Beast

Mated to the Beast

By

Grace Goodwin

Copyright © 2016 by Stormy Night Publications and Grace Goodwin

Copyright © 2016 by Stormy Night Publications and Grace Goodwin

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

www.StormyNightPublications.com

Goodwin, Grace

Mated to the Beast

Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

Images by The Killion Group and 123RF/Dmitriy Denysov

This book is intended for
adults only
. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

Chapter One

Sarah, Interstellar Bride Processing Center, Earth

My back was pressed into something smooth and hard. Against my front was something equally hard, but hot as I stroked my palms over it. I could feel the heartbeat beneath the sweat-soaked skin, hear the rumbling of pleasure in his chest. His teeth nipped at the spot where my shoulder met my neck, the sensation sharp and with a hint of pain. A knee nudged my thighs apart and my toes barely touched the floor. I was pinned in such a
good
way between a man, a very big and eager man, and a wall.

Hands slid over my waist and higher to cup my breasts, to pluck at my already hard nipples. My body melted at his skilled touch and I was glad for the wall and his secure hold. His hands moved higher, lifting my arms up until he gripped both of my wrists in one very large, strong hand and held them in place over my head. I was well and truly pinned. I didn’t care. I should, for I didn’t like to be manhandled, but this… oh, God, this was different.

This was fucked-up-against-a-wall goodness.

I didn’t want to think about being in control, of knowing what would come next. I just knew that whatever he did I wanted more. He was wild, untamed, and aggressive. The press of his thick cock was hot against my inner thigh.

“Please,” I whimpered.

“Your pussy’s so wet it’s dripping on my thigh.”

I could feel how slick I was, my clit pulsing, my inner walls clenching down in eager anticipation.

“Do you want my cock to fill you up?”

“Yes,” I cried, nodding my head against the hard surface.

“You said earlier you would never submit.”

“I will. I will,” I gasped, going against everything I knew. I didn’t submit to anyone. I stood on my own two feet, defended myself with my fists or sharp words. I didn’t let
anyone
tell me what to do. I’d had enough of that with my family and I wouldn’t take it anymore. But this man… with him, I would give him anything, even my submission.

“You’ll do as I say?” His voice was rough and deep, a mixture of dominant and aroused male.

“I will, just please,
please
,
fuck me.”

“Ah, I love to hear those words from your mouth. But you know you’re going to have to soothe my beast, my fever. I won’t just fuck you once. I’ll fuck you again and again, hard and rough, just as you need it. I’ll make you come so many times you won’t remember any name but mine.”

I moaned then. “Do it. Take me.” His words were so dirty that I should have been mortified, but they only made me hotter. “Fill me up. I can soothe your fever. I’m the only one.”

I didn’t even know what that meant, but I
felt
that it was true. I was the only one who could ease the anxious rage inside him that I could sense lurking beneath his gentle touch, his soft lips. Fucking was an outlet for his intensity and it was my job, my role, to help. Not that it would be a burden; I was desperate for him to fuck me. Perhaps I had the fever, too.

He held me up as if I weighed nothing, my back arched by his hold on my wrists, my breasts thrust out in offering as I squirmed to get closer, to force him to fill me.

“Put your legs around me. Open up, give me what I want. Offer it to me.” He bit down gently at the curve of my shoulder and I whimpered in need as his massive chest rubbed my sensitive nipples and his thigh nudged higher, forcing me to ride him, pushing against my sensitive clit in a relentless assault meant to make me lose control.

Using his hold on me for leverage, I lifted my legs and bucked against him until I felt the head of his big cock at my entrance. As soon as I had him where I wanted him, I crossed my ankles just above the curve of his well-muscled ass and tried to pull him closer, to impale myself, but he was too big, too strong, and I moaned in frustration.

“Say it, mate, as I fill you with my cock. Say my name. Say whose cock is filling you. Say the name of the only one you will submit to. Say it.”

His cock nudged in, spreading my pussy lips wide, stretching me open. I could feel the hardness of it, the heat of it. I could smell the musky scent of my arousal, of fucking. I could feel his mouth sucking on the sensitive skin of my neck. I could feel the steel-like strength of his grip where he held me in place and the solid wall behind me, allowing me no escape from the dominance of his thrusting body. I could feel his powerful bulk as I clenched him with my thighs. I felt the shift of the muscles in his ass as he thrust into me.

I tilted my head back and cried out his name, the one name that meant everything to me.

“Miss Mills.”

The voice was soft, timid even, not
his
. I ignored it and thought of the way his cock was filling me up. I’d never been stretched so fully before and the slight burn of it mixed with the pleasure of that flared head sliding over the most sensitive places deep inside me.

“Miss Mills.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder. Cold. Small. It wasn’t
his
hand because his hands had moved to my ass in the dream, clenching and squeezing as he drove deep, pinning me to the wall.

I startled awake and tugged my arm away from the clammy touch of a stranger. Blinking a few times, I realized the woman before me was Warden Morda. It was not the man in the dream. Oh, God, it had been a dream.

I gasped and tried to catch my breath as I stared at her.

She was reality. Warden Morda was with me in this room. I wasn’t being fucked by a dominant male with a huge cock and the words of a demanding lover. She had the expression of a constipated cat and it was perhaps the look on my face that had her taking a step back. How dare she interrupt
that
dream? The best sex I’d ever had didn’t even come close. Holy hell, that was a hot dream. I’d never had head banging, slammed up against the wall kind of sex before, but I wanted it now. My inner walls clenched, remembering what that cock felt like. My fingers itched to grab his shoulders again. I wanted to lock my ankles about his waist, dig my heels into his ass.

This was insane, a sex dream. Now, here. God, it was almost mortifying if it hadn’t been so real. No, it
was
mortifying because I was supposed to be processed for the coalition front lines, not a job as a porn star. I assumed the processing meant a medical check, birth control implant, perhaps some mental health assessment. I’d been in the military before, but not in space. How different could it be? What kind of processing did the coalition have to force me into a dream porno? Was it because I was a woman? Did they want to ensure I wouldn’t jump a fellow soldier? That was ridiculous, but what else could be the reason for that steamy hot dream?

“What?” I barked, still angry at being wrenched away from such pleasure, embarrassed she caught me when I was so emotionally vulnerable.

She flinched, clearly unaccustomed to the rough edges of new recruits. Odd, since she dealt with them on a daily basis. She
had
said she was new in her role here at the processing center, but how new was undetermined. Just my luck, this was probably her first day.

“I’m sorry to have disturbed you.” Her voice was meek. She reminded me of a mouse. Drab brown hair, straight and long. No makeup, her uniform making her appear sallow. “Your testing is complete.”

Frowning, I glanced down at myself. I felt like I was at the doctor’s office with the hospital-style gown with a red logo repeated in a pattern on the scratchy material. The chair was like one at the dentist’s, but the wrist restraints were an unwelcome touch. I yanked on them, testing their strength, but they would not yield. I was trapped. Not a feeling I enjoyed, at all. It made me think of the dream where he’d pinned my hands over my head, but that, that I’d enjoyed. A lot. Except he’d made me tell him I wanted to submit, to give control to him. It made no sense because I
hated
giving control to anyone. I drove when I went out with friends. I organized the birthday parties. I used to buy the groceries for my family. I had a father and three brothers, all bossy. While they’d raised me to be just as bossy as they were, they never allowed me to tell them what to do. They pestered me, teased me, scared away any guy even remotely interested in me. They’d gone off to the military and I’d followed. I craved control as much as they did.

Now, with these damn restraints, I felt trapped. Pinned down with no escape. I glared at the warden.

Her shoulders went slack, shrinking her size another inch or two.

“My testing is over? Aren’t you interested in my accuracy with firearms? Hand-to-hand combat? Piloting skills?”

She licked her lips and cleared her throat. “Your… um… skills are impressive, I’m sure, but unless they were a part of the testing you just finished, then… no.”

My skills in battle were plenty, for I had years of experience, probably more than most coalition recruits. My understanding was that all tests were conducted via simulations like the one I’d just endured, which was odd, but perhaps faster than soldiers proving their worth on the firing range or in an actual aircraft. Was the sex dream some kind of new test? I wasn’t a nympho, but I also wouldn’t turn down a hot guy if the right one came along. But I knew there was a difference between the bedroom and the battlefield. Why would they care what my sexual proclivities were? Did they think a human woman would be unable to resist a smoking hot alien? Hell, I’d been around hot alpha males most of my life. Resistance was not a problem.

Or were they trying to prove there was something wrong with me that I had conjured up a woman being dominated and pinned against a wall by an eager and well-endowed guy? He hadn’t been forceful. I hadn’t feared him. I’d longed for him. I’d
begged
for him. There had been no explosions, unless you considered the fact that I’d almost come when he’d bottomed out deep inside me. I clenched my core muscles down again, the vividness of the dream causing me to long for
the heat of the huge man’s seed filling me.

It was my turn to clear my throat.

A crisp knock on the door had the warden spinning on her rubber-soled heels.

In walked another woman in an identical uniform, but she wore it with much more confidence and a knowledgeable demeanor.

“Miss Mills, I am Warden Egara. I see you have finished your testing.” Warden Egara had dark brown hair, gray eyes, and the bearing and posture of a dancer. Her shoulders were straight, her body trim and upright. Everything about her screamed educated, confident, refined. The exact opposite of the neighborhood I’d grown up in. The warden glanced at the tablet she carried with her. I assumed the nod of her head indicated she was satisfied, but her expression was carefully schooled and gave nothing away.

I wished for half her restraint as I felt a fierce scowl cover my face. “Is there a reason I am shackled to this chair?”

The last thing I remembered was sitting across from the little mouse—who now practically cowered next to the confident warden—and taking a small pill from her hand. I washed it down with a paper cup full of water. I was now naked beneath my gown—I could feel my bare ass against the hard plastic—and restrained. If I were to be dressed in anything at all, it shouldn’t be this ridiculous medical gown, but a warrior’s uniform for my induction as a coalition fighter.

The warden glanced at me and offered an efficient smile. Everything about her seemed to be professional, unlike the mouse.

“Some women have strong reactions to the testing. The restraints are for your own safety.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind removing them now?”

I felt out of control with my arms pinned. If there was danger of some kind, I could kick an attacker since my legs were free, but they’d certainly get an eyeful when I lifted my leg.