Captured By The Alien Barbarian: A Sci-fi Alien Romance series (Planet Atraxis Warriors)

Chapter 12

As soon as Taccit’s lips make contact with mine, I let out a moan. He doesn’t hold back or hesitate—one moment he hovers above me, and the next he explores my most intimate parts.

My instincts scream at me to grab onto Taccit—to sink my hands into his hair and guide him where I crave him most, causing me to whimper in desperation. However, my wrists are bound too tightly, causing my attempts to yank futilely at my restraints.

Taccit slowly runs his tongue along my folds, from back to front, making my hips squirm and arch beneath him. He drapes an arm over my stomach, pinning me down. Between his body holding me in place and my arms securely restrained, I feel utterly defenseless.

A blend of frustration and yearning coils deep within me as I gasp and moan with every stroke of his tongue.

“You taste so good,” Taccit says, gazing at me as he lifts his head. “I could do this all day.”

My core clenches, and a whimper escapes my throat at the thought. Instead of speaking, I cry out when he leans back down to focus on my clit, using the flat of his tongue in a way that sends sparks through my entire body.

Something probes at my entrance, and then the tip of his tail slides inside of me.

“So tight,” he says, sending tingles across my sensitive skin and causing me to squirm in delight.

His tail begins a slow exploration within me, reaching tender areas that make my legs twitch. He firmly holds my legs open with a strong grip and his wide shoulders.

“Do you want to come for me?” he asks, his golden eyes hot with lust as they still on mine. He grins predatorily, exposing his sharp teeth. “Do you even deserve it?”

“Yes!” I say as his tail continues to pump inside me. He withdraws with a purposeful, slow swipe, and I can’t help but cry out in loss.

“Please,” I say, “I need more.”

“You beg so beautifully, my mate,” Taccit laughs darkly. “But I’m not sure you deserve it. After all, you never apologized for leaving.”

His hands grip my waist and suddenly, I feel disoriented. I find myself on my hands and knees. A hand presses down on my shoulder blades, pushing me further into the furs but leaving my behind high in the air. And exposed.

Taccit’s hand gently caresses my hip and ass, and says, “So beautiful.”

Fiery heat intensifies between my legs, making my thighs even slicker.

Without warning, his hand comes down on one of my ass cheeks. I cry out from the unexpected sharp connection. Before I can complain, Taccit’s soothing strokes alleviate the sting.

However, the second blow comes just as suddenly as the first.

“Ow!” I say, unsure whether I’m trying to push against him for more or trying to escape the pain.

“Tell me you were bad. Tell me you were naughty and need to be punished.”

I glare at him over my shoulder, trying to catch my breath. My flesh shudders with a forceful slap, and my hips jerk in response. As I struggle against him, my eyes well up with tears, the initial sting starting to burn and ache. His gentle caress strokes my inflamed flesh, somehow soothing and pleasant in the midst of my pain.

It’s so messed up that I’m enjoying this. I should be furious at the way he’s restrained me, how he subjects my body to this treatment without my consent. And yet, I’ve never told him to stop, and I can’t bring myself to ask him to.

“Have you been bad?” He stops spanking me, and his fingers trail across my bottom and between my legs, teasing my entrance.

“Yes!” I cry out, almost involuntarily, as his fingers push deeper inside me.

He pauses momentarily, then pulls his fingers out to stroke my skin. “Yes, what? You didn’t admit to being naughty, my little mate.”

In my disoriented state, I can’t focus on anything other than his fingers exploring my body. The need for him takes over.

“Have you been naughty?” he says, close enough that I can feel the warmth on my back. His fingers swirl around my entrance, applying gentle pressure that makes me desperate for more.

“Yes, yes, I have,” I say, willing to admit anything if he would just enter me.

He rewards my submission by plunging not one but three fingers inside of me. My body arches as waves of pleasure surge from my head to my toes. He continues to pump his fingers in and out of me until the intensity of my pleasure ebbs, carefully controlling my descent.

He places a tender kiss on the small of my back.

“Now...” I feel him move closer, his heat pressing against my hip. I gasp as his erection slides between my thighs, brushing against my still-sensitive clit. My thighs instinctively tighten around him, increasing the pressure and rekindling the sparks of desire within me.

He rocks against me, his hips pushing mine forward. Each motion brings his cock in contact with my slick folds, sending sparks of pleasure through me. “Now,” he says, “are you going to be a good girl?”

I nod, voice shaky. “Yes. I’ll be a good girl.”

His low chuckle ripples through the room, both eerie and exhilarating. He pulls back, positioning himself at my entrance. I try to push against him to take him deeper, but he holds me firmly in place with hands gripping tightly to my hips.

“Promise me you’ll keep yourself safe. That you won’t leave me.”

There’s something in his voice that makes me hesitate, the haze of pleasure lifting just a bit. Yet my need for him is too overwhelming; I can’t think clearly or fathom what he’s really asking of me.

“Please, Taccit,” I say, reduced to begging to have him inside me. I’m actually begging him.

He relents, pushing into me just enough for the tip to breach my entrance. In this position, he feels larger than ever, impossibly big. I groan at the mingling sensation of pain and pure satisfaction.

“Promise me,” he groans, and I can feel his trembling, though perhaps it’s my own body shaking with anticipation. Emotions within me are threatening to spiral out of control. I feel like I might snap. Or burst into flames.

“Yes,” I say. “Yes!”

With a snap of his hips, he surges inside me, going deeper than I thought possible. My muscles tighten around him as we both groan in pleasure. His head rests between my shoulder blades, his panting breath causing goosebumps to spread across my body and my nipples to harden.

He begins with a slow, subtle rhythm, gradually building in intensity. Each thrust leaves me gasping and crying out. In and out. I press back against him, matching his movements with my own, craving more.

More.

I need more.

I’m so close to the edge, yet something is missing. His hips move at a ferocious pace, the sound of our passion echoing throughout the cave.

Suddenly, he lifts me up, his strong hands the only thing keeping me off the ground. His claws prick my skin, but the sensation is addictive as he pounds into me from behind. This new angle is exactly what I needed, and I can no longer hold back. Stars fill my vision as my body arches and convulses in his embrace.

He roars in climax, his smooth movements stopping as he grinds into me, filling me with his warmth. My core tightens around him, milking him dry.

The world becomes hazy as I collapse into his arms, my body heavy with exhaustion. I’m faintly aware of Taccit releasing me from my bonds and pressing tender kisses to my wrists. A warm blanket envelops me, comforting me as the sweat on my skin cools. He pulls me close against his body, guiding my head to rest on his firm bicep.

“You are my prisoner,” Taccit says, gently kissing my sweaty temple.

“If I am your prisoner, that makes you mine as well. My captor.” I’m not sure I’m making much sense at this point. Drowsiness is weighing heavily upon me. I’m warm, comfortable, and content in his arms. I wish this moment could last forever.

I had so many doubts about coming to this alien planet. I would never have imagined life turning out like this. I’d never have imagined living with a partner that I actually loved.

“I better feed you.” Taccit lifts my body off of his, guiding me to lie back in the furs.

I bite down on the sigh of disappointment. I wanted to cuddle. I wanted him to hold me, to make me feel as loved as he claims. I’m growing addicted to the feeling, even willing to forsake dinner to stay in his arms.

“You’re going to need your strength tonight, since you won’t be sleeping at all.” He looks at me with a cocky smirk. My body responds in a way that it’s only ever done with him, for him.

What have I done? I married a monster.

* * *

I loungeon the bed furs, taking in the sight of Taccit poking at the fire. He’s wearing thin trousers woven from a rough material that leaves little to the imagination. They also put all of the tattoos that cover his chest and arms on full display.

“These are lusnar leaves. They will help you sleep,” Taccit says as he swings a metal rod over the fire, placing a pot of liquid on the flames. He sprinkles a pinch of pale blue powder into the mix, and soon the air fills with a soothing, vanilla-floral aroma.

As I watch him work his culinary magic, I can’t help but compare my alien-planet life to my old life back on Earth. There are some perks to living with this extraterrestrial dude—I’ll admit it. But boy, do I miss showers. Then again, bathing was quite the luxury even on the spaceship. Maybe, just maybe, I can convince Taccit to help me build a bathtub... by the river... with freezing cold water.

Great plan.

How did medieval people do it? Didn’t they boil water first? Maybe that’s an option.

My friends would be the perfect people to make an experimental bath with—in fact, I had looked forward to doing crazy stuff like this with them.

First, Maya would create some impossible design for us. Actually, it would probably be below her skill level. The woman almost never puts down her data-tablet. Add to that Stacy’s usual list of outrageous suggestions—“Let’s make it a bubble bath!” she’d exclaim. Of course, Maya would only see that as a challenge. And then we’d have... well, a mess, probably.

“You look sad,” Taccit observes.

Sad? Maybe homesick is a better word. “I was just thinking about my friends,” I say. “We usually hang out every couple of days, but now... they’re probably worried sick. Especially Maya. She never admits it, but she’s a worrier.”

Taccit studies me intently. What could be going on in that alien brain of his? Finally, he asks, “She is a kind female, then?”

I nod, gesturing over to my bow and arrows hanging on the wall—all her handiwork. She had made them for me when she found out I was going to be forced to live outside of the colony’s walls.

“She made me that. Designed it herself. I still remember when she gave it to me. She was so nervous about me liking her gift. She came up with some excuse about me helping her test it to make sure it worked. Yet she never once asked me if it did work, because she knew it would.”

I laugh, remembering her apprehensive face. And she had mastered the bow before ever passing it on—testing for safety, no doubt. She opened and closed it so effortlessly, with an elegant motion that still takes me forever to mimic.

Taccit gives me a warm smile.

“With time and practice, you will be just as skilled,” he says.

He takes a deep breath and looks at me for a long moment. The words gush out of him, almost like he had been trying to hold them in. “But you don’t need to worry. I will do everything I can to protect you.”

A tender moment stretches between us. I duck my head, feeling my cheeks grow warm. This isn’t just some guy spewing nonsense to woo me or sound impressive in front of his buddies. Taccit genuinely means to do whatever it takes to keep me safe.

It’s a weird feeling to wrap my head around, knowing that Taccit would risk so much for little old me.

“Did you know my people called the colony Eve’s Rest?” I ask, with the casualness of someone discussing the weather. No, I’m not changing the topic... much.

“I do not know the meaning of the word ‘eve’,” he replies.

“It was named after a friend. She was one of the first humans to land on the planet. She basically picked where we’d build everything.” A bitter laugh slips out. “She never even got to see us build it, though.”

Taccit gives me an inquisitive look. “What happened? Was she ill?”

I shake my head.

“No, they found her campsite. Some beasts had attacked, and...” A lump forms in my throat. Tears prick my eyes. “They didn’t even find her body. We didn’t get to bury her. All because some stupid beast attacked her.”

My voice trails off, and I wrap the covers around me like they’re magically going to keep all the bad memories at bay. The memory of the shreem attack lingers in my mind, but it’s hazy now. All I remember are teeth, and lots of them. It will take some time before I come to terms with being brutally attacked by wild animals.

“My people call this area Bol Nora. I do not know why. Multiple tribes make their homes here. You can go further, beyond the sands… but the tribes there are different. I’ve never traveled that far.”

We settle into silence, each lost in our own thoughts.

“I’d like to keep practicing with my bow,” I say with determination. I never want to be caught unarmed and without protection again. I vow to learn to defend myself so that anxiety doesn’t flood my veins every time I think about stepping outside the cave. It’s still a chore to even go to my garden, and some days I have chickened out entirely. I don’t want to live my entire life like this.

It’s funny to realize that I’m no longer afraid of Taccit. In fact, when he’s with me, I feel safe. With him close by, I don’t even think about bringing my bow along when leaving the cave.

The silence between Taccit and me stretches. It feels awkward. Undoubtedly, he thinks I’m rejecting his offer of protection. Am I? It seemed so significant for him to declare. His disappointment is almost heartbreaking to see—like watching someone’s soul shrink right before they hide all emotion.

At this moment, I feel so alone that I don’t know what to make of everything. Beneath all my actions, fear simmers like boiling water.

“There will come a time when you master your bow. If you were one of my people, then we would give you your markings... but it does not seem your people display your accomplishments like mine,” Taccit says thoughtfully.

Unlike his usual lust-hungry expression, he appears disappointed once again. As if I let him down just by being human.

“Do your markings mean that much to you?” I ask softly.

He nods. “It identifies you for who you are. Every bitter season, I reapply the dyes. Normally, your tribe members would apply the dyes for you...” Taccit glares at the fire, his jaw clenched as if he’s reliving some painful memories. Unsure of how else to comfort him, I crawl over and place my hand gently on his knee. “I’m sorry, Taccit. Is there really no way you can go home? Talk to your family about what happened?”

Taccit snorts, amused. Swiftly, he lifts me up and plops me onto his lap. He lets me settle in before wrapping his arms around me, burying his face in my hair. “I do not know, Nika. I haven’t truly tried to talk to them for many, many cycles. Still, they always accept the offerings from my hunts.”

We fall silent, entranced by the fire. Taccit’s tight embrace lessens, and he starts to caress my arms. I’m drifting off to sleep when he asks, “How do your people know their tribe without markings? Or someone’s skills?”

Battling sleepiness, I try to gather my scattered thoughts. It’d be all too easy to just fall asleep right now and not answer him. “My markings? Oh. We don’t have tribes anymore. Some humans get tattoos like your markings. Most of the time, when we are awarded for a skill, we get a bit of paper as proof. If we do something amazing, we might get a medal. That’s a bit of metal and a cloth ribbon. I’ve never gotten one of those, though.”

“And mating marks? How do you show that you have mated already?”

His heartbeat quickens beneath my ear, although he displays no outward sign of his nerves.

“When humans choose to get married, we often exchange wedding bands. Metal rings that go on a finger. We don’t get tattoos.”

Taccit sounds incredulous. “You choose your own mates? What if someone has already claimed a mate, only to come across their mishara?”

“What is a mishara?”

“My people get their markings as soon as we find our mishara. That means our perfect mate—the one who binds our souls. Without you, I would not live a good, long life. I would have no hope of ever being truly happy.”

Mishara. Soul mate.

My heart races. Taccit believes I’m his soul mate.

I slide off Taccit’s lap so that I can look up at him. This time, he lets me go, though his hands reach out as if he can’t bear to be fully separated from me. He looks upon me with such adoration. He looks at me as if he loves me.

I might just love him too.