RavishedbyMoonbeam

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Authors: Cynthia Sax

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Ravished by Moonbeam

Cynthia Sax

 

When Officer Danielle smacks a hunky alien with her police
cruiser, she suspects her black-and-green perp is up to no good…and that turns
her on. She shoots him. He grins. She hunts him down. He captures her, seducing
her on a bed of pine needles. She’s never felt so alive.

Krol knows a frail human female won’t satisfy his primal
sexual urges, but he’s willing to make that sacrifice to ensure the continuation
of his species. Then Danielle attempts to terminate him, and he realizes Earth
women aren’t as dainty as they appear. Her lust may be a match for his basest
needs, after all.

 

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

www.ellorascave.com

 

 

 

Ravished by Moonbeam

 

ISBN 9781419938184

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Ravished by Moonbeam Copyright © 2012 Cynthia Sax

 

Edited by Briana St. James

Cover design by Mina Carter

Photography: dreamstime.com; 123rf.com; sxc.hu

 

Electronic book publication January 2012

 

The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of
Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

 

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not
be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written
permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home
Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

 

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,
living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The
characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

 

The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and
trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned
in this book.

 

The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume
any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.

Ravished by Moonbeam

Cynthia Sax

 

Chapter One

 

“Officer Clark,” Danielle murmured into the handset. She
dimmed the headlights and slowed the police cruiser, inching the vehicle
quietly along the gravel road.

“10-20, Officer Danielle?” Her friend and fellow officer
asked her location.

“Moonbeam Side Road.”
Street address of one highly
suspicious manwhore.
She hunched over the steering wheel, staring into the
darkness with grim determination.
No more women will disappear on my watch.

“Officer Danielle…” She heard the refusal in Clark’s voice.

“I know he’s up to something, Officer,” Danielle insisted.
“As I knew your perp had a weapon,” she not-so-subtly reminded him.

“10-4, Officer Danielle.” Clark sighed, the radio crackling
with static. “This makes us even. 10-18.”

He doesn’t believe me. No one does.
She slammed the
handset back into place.
Yet all of the signs point to foul play.

A good soldier listens to her gut
, her mother’s voice
echoed in her mind. Danielle slid her right hand over her police uniform,
fingering the reassuring outline of her dog tags.

A good soldier never cries.
She whacked the window
controls with her fist. Fresh air poured inside the vehicle, the night breeze
cool and scented with pine needles, and her melancholy retreated.

Danielle stuck her head out the window and gazed up at the
stars. One star, glowing as bright as the full moon, moved farther away from
her.

Moved?
She frowned.
How—

The cruiser shuddered and she turned her head in time to see
a large black-and-green object hit the windshield. The entity cracked the
supposedly uncrackable glass, a spider web of fragments spanning out from the
center of impact, and it rolled over the hood, leaving a trail of dents.

“Stay still.” She grabbed the first-aid kit stashed in the
door pocket. “And remain calm.” Her heart pounded painfully as she dashed
around the hood of the car, rock fragments crunching under her sturdy police
boots. “I’m a police officer. I’ve been trained to deal with these situations.”
Danielle stopped. Temporarily blinded by the headlights, she couldn’t see
anything.


Lejno.
” The mumbled word originated from the
brightness and she breathed a sigh of relief.
He lives.

With a rumbling groan, the owner of the deep, sexy voice
staggered to his feet. He rolled back his green-and-black shoulders, his joints
popping in a barrage of rapid-fire cracks. Danielle’s mouth dropped open and
the first-aid kit fell with a thump onto the gravel road. Every inch of her
accident victim was green or black.

He loomed over her, his huge, colorful body covered with
ridges from the top of his bald skull down to the waistband of his black
leather outfit. She tilted her head back to meet his swirling gaze.

“You’re not human.” Her fingers shook as she fumbled for her
gun. “At least, not like any human I’ve ever seen. What are you?”

“I am Warrior Krol Nowak.” He extended his hands. Long
silver blades protruded from his wrist armor.

Danger.
Danielle stepped back, fear twisting her
stomach. “Don’t move, Warrior Krol.” She raised her gun and aimed it between
his constantly moving eyes. “And put your arms in the air.”

His forehead ridges rattled as they condensed. “Your two
commands are incompatible,
druzka
.” He stalked toward her, his form
large and menacing.

Sweat trickled down Danielle’s neck. Space guns were strapped
to his muscular torso and daggers decorated his tight leather pants. She held a
simple service revolver. “I repeat. Don’t move, or I’ll shoot.”

Krol grinned, displaying teeth too sharp and pointed to be
human. “You are a warrior, my Danielle. I am the
best
warrior.”

She swallowed hard, her mouth dry with fear. “How do you
know my—”

He sprang toward her, his movements blurring, and Danielle
reacted on instinct, pulling the trigger. The bullet ricocheted off his knee
ridge, the deafening sound followed by an animalistic howl. Krol twisted the
gun from her hands, took three steps to the right and lobbed it with inhuman
strength deep into the brush.

“I shot you.” Confused, Danielle glared at his leg. Red
blood trickled down it, yet he remained standing. “I
shot
you.”

“Yes.” Krol retracted his wrist blades as he strode back to
her. Gravel crunched under his big boots. “I am enjoying our courting.”

“Courting?” Danielle backed away from the approaching alien,
discomforted by his size and anxiously aware she was woefully unarmed.
A
good soldier knows when to retreat.

In a flash of black and green, he captured her waist and
pulled her forward, bumping her hips against his. The strength she’d always
prided herself on paled next to his, his arms bulging with muscles and ridges.

“Courting,” he confirmed. His hypnotizing gaze dropped to
her lips and Danielle sucked in her breath, excitement coiling within her.
He
isn’t thinking of…he’s an alien. He wouldn’t—

Krol covered her mouth with his, his hard lips pulverizing
her soft flesh, grinding, conquering, owning. Danielle clenched her teeth,
blocking his access to her mouth, and she struggled to free herself, pushing
against his chest with her hands. He was hard, strong and male. Her body
responded to his dominance, her nipples tightening and her pussy moistening.

Her spaceman growled, the primitive sound curling Danielle’s
boot-covered toes. “Open.” He stroked her cheek with his calloused fingers,
sending shivers of delight down her spine.

“No way. I’m not letting some alien inside me.” She raised
her chin defiantly, her lips plump and throbbing with his hard usage.

Their gazes met and held, and a grin slowly spread across
his face. Krol bobbed his head once as though acknowledging her challenge, and
Danielle readied herself, bracing for impact. He attacked, bending down to
recapture her mouth, his forceful kiss driving her head back.

She clung to him, teasing him with her body, dragging her
nipples against his chest ridges as he probed the seam of her mouth with his
surprisingly soft tongue. Danielle blocked each assault, pressing her lips
tightly together, denying him entrance.

He pulled on her jaw and she dropped her chin, her lips
slipping from his, running over the bone underneath his mouth. She licked his
skin, flicking her tongue over his flesh, tasting salt and minerals, and she
hungered for more, more Krol, more kisses.

He groaned. “Open for me, my Danielle.”

She laughed at his frustration, feeling desirable, powerful
and in control. “Make me. You—”

Krol slapped her ass hard, the sound of skin hitting fabric
echoing through the night air, and Danielle gasped, shock and arousal radiating
from the point of impact. He was a monster, this alien, and he immediately
filled her open mouth with his thick, soft tongue, plunging into her farther
and farther, forcing her lips wider, insisting she take all of him.

Danielle grazed his flesh with her teeth, warning him back,
yet he bravely, passionately pressed forward, utilizing his tongue like a
weapon, whipping her cheeks and punishing her for her resistance. She
surrendered completely to his greedy demands, clasping his shoulder ridges with
her fingers, hanging on as he ravished her mouth.

Danielle pushed her hips into his groin, grinding her mons
on the long, hard ridge in his leather pants. The ridge vibrated, triggering a
corresponding hum within her, and she moaned into his mouth while dry humping
him harder and faster.

The pain. The pleasure.
I’m so close. So—

Krol pulled away from her, breaking their kiss, and Danielle
swallowed her scream of frustration. “We will mate now.” He slid his fingers
under the waistband of her police pants and yanked, tearing her leather belt in
two.

The cool night breeze wafted upon her heated skin, reviving
Danielle’s logic.
What am I doing? He’s an alien, and perhaps the enemy.

“Wait.” She stepped back from him, her desire flowing to
fear.

He stilled, staring at her, his forehead ridges raised in
question. His eyes, more black than green, swirled quickly with passion.

Think, Danielle.
She looked down the deserted road.
The headlights of her police cruiser faded into darkness. She glanced up at the
big, muscular alien. Moonlight reflected off his arsenal of weapons. Resting
her hand on her empty gun holster, Danielle took a deep breath, held it to the
count of ten and slowly released the air through her front teeth.
A good
soldier never shows fear.

She forced a seductive smile. “Do you want to fuck me,
Warrior Krol?” Danielle dropped her voice to a husky whisper. Her space perp
narrowed his eyes before nodding slowly. “Do you want to put this big alien
cock,” she leaned forward and covered his groin with her trembling hand, “in my
tight human pussy?”

He closed his eyes as she touched him. “I will fill you with
my seed, my Danielle.” He was hard, so very hard, and his thick shaft pumped up
and down like a vibrator, his broad cock head clearly outlined against his
leather pants. Even knowing he could be the enemy, she wanted him, and her
cheeks heated with shame.

Focus, Officer Danielle. He’s an alien.

She pulled a space gun out of Krol’s holster and pointed it
at him. “In your dreams, big boy.” She smiled with satisfaction as his eyes
widened and his mouth dropped open. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot.” She rested her
thumb on a green button resembling a trigger. “And you know I mean it, so no—”

He fled, his body a flash of black and green under the
moonlight. He was huge and alien and too heavily armed to be on a mission of
peace. “Oh hell.” She chased him, her space gun in hand, her blood pumping with
exhilaration.

He lumbered through the forest with the grace of a charging
bull moose, snapping branches off the fir trees, pounding his boots on the
needle-covered earth. She ran as fast as she could after him. Her lungs ached,
her muscles strained and she felt alive, so very alive.

“You. Can’t. Escape. Me, Krol.” She caught a glimpse of
movement, and darted in that direction.

His chuckle rolled through the air, mocking her, and then
there was silence. She didn’t hear his footsteps, his breathing or any sound at
all. She stopped and pivoted on her heels, squinting in the dark, cocking her
head as she listened, the stillness disconcerting. The tiny hairs on the back
of her neck rose and she raised her space gun, turning, turning, turning.

A branch snapped with a crack to her right and she shot, her
fireball bullet burning holes through thick tree trunks as it blasted through
the forest. The kickback was a bitch, the butt of the gun slamming into
Danielle’s shoulder and throwing her off her feet. She landed with an oomph
flat on her back.

“My Danielle.” The alien she hunted emerged from the
darkness and crouched by her side. “Are you damaged?” Krol searched her skull
with his fingers, looking for injury. He handled her as though she was fragile
and soft. And as if she was unworthy of respect or love.

“Respect this.” She released years of resentment upon the
alien, pistol-whipping him with the barrel of his own space gun.

Krol straddled her waist and caught her wrists before she
hit him again. He stretched her arms above her head, securing them easily with
one hand. The awkward position thrust her breasts toward him and made her
agonizingly vulnerable to any assault.

“You are not damaged.” He grinned, a trickle of blood
dripping from the corner of his black lips. He dropped his gaze to study her
heaving chest.

He was a beast and she arched, offering her body for him to
ravish. “Don’t you dare rip my shirt.” She issued a challenge she knew he
couldn’t ignore.

His eyes swirled in a captivating eddy of green and black.
“It is not a worthy garment for a warrior.” He shredded her shirt with three
hard yanks, the fabric burning her skin, the buttons flying like bullets out of
a service revolver, her badge falling to the ground, as useless as her
resistance.

He tapped her mother’s dog tags. “The symbol of your warrior
status.” He slid his fingers lower, his touch hot and rough on her chest. “This
is a worthy garment.” He squeezed her right breast, ripping the black lace of
her bra.

Danielle moaned, writhing under him, her skin alive with
sensation. “Harder. Squeeze my tit harder.”

He tightened his grip on her breast to the point of
bruising, her nipple sensitive and taut under his palm. “Open,” he commanded
before he kissed her, and she obeyed, welcoming the harshness of his tongue,
savoring the metallic tang of his spilt blood. She licked at his wound as he
tortured her breast, pushing the lace aside to dig his fingertips into bare
skin.

He clamped her nipple between his thumb and index finger,
the sharp pain shooting straight to her womb. “Yes!” Danielle cried out,
thrusting her breast into his hand, needing more, needing him. She sank her
teeth into his lower lip and pulled.

He growled and pushed her into the ground, devouring her
mouth and pinching her nipple until the tip was white. She gasped, appeased by
the violence, and he kissed down her neck, leaving a trail of love bruises
until he reached her neglected breast. He caught the edge of the lace cup
between his teeth and jerked, freeing her curves.

“Suck me. Suck me raw,” Danielle urged, pushing up with her
hips. She was unable to dislodge him and unable to touch him, her hands lowered
to chin-level, but remaining thrillingly restrained.

Krol fastened his lips over her nipple and inhaled her
flesh, drawing her breast deep within his hot, wet mouth. He suckled thirstily,
his tug and pull ruthlessly severe, pushing her closer to the edge of release.

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