Breeder by Cara Bristol Page B

not know what you mean.” She stalled, trapped in a dilemma.
    Alpha radiated anger, but his touch was featherlight as he ran a finger over a welt on her buttocks. One across her thighs. “I should have flogged him unconscious, and then roused him and whipped him again. How often did he do this?”
    The sun never failed to set that Corren hadn’t devised some reason to discipline her. His ingenuity inflicted pain on the inside without leaving outward marks—until yesterday when he’d lost control. If she lied to Alpha, and he later discovered her falsehood, she would pay dearly. But if she confessed that Corren punished her every day, sometimes twice, and he chastised Corren for his disobedience, the beta would exact retribution at first opportunity. Alpha’s responsibilities resulted in long absences from home, during which time she was at Corren’s mercy—and he had none.
    Fortunately, she lay on her stomach so Alpha couldn’t see her face. She opened her mouth to lie, but the Commander spoke first. “He will not strike you again. I give you my word.” His lips followed the same path his fingers had traced. What is he doing? Her heart ceased beating, then nearly leaped out of her chest when he trailed his tongue over her flesh. The wetness burned across the welts, and his jaw rasped where it grazed, but every nerve ending fired in a contrary storm of pleasure.
    He grasped the lock-ring. It emitted a hum as the device read his genetic code, then clicked open. He pulled it off and tossed it. It landed near her head, coated by her moisture. Embarrassment heated her face. Something was seriously wrong with her the way her body kept leaking. Fortunately Alpha was willing to overlook her indiscretions.
    As this was her second coupling, she knew what to expect, so she raised her hips to accommodate the thrust of his manhood, but he inserted a finger into her passage instead. Pressure. Fullness. Pleasure . She squeezed her muscles. It only got better when he penetrated her with a second digit.
    He groaned that satisfied rumble that caused her stomach to flutter every time she heard it and removed his fingers.
    Now he would mount her. She lifted her lips.
    But he rolled her over.
    And did the unthinkable.
    He licked his fingers . The ones that had been inside her—the ones slickened by her moisture. Omra’s jaw fell open. But when he knelt and kissed her, she forgot her shock. She met every stroke of his tongue with a curl of hers, teased him for the joy of hearing him groan. The vibration of it sent little tingles dancing through her.
    She flailed, uncertain what to do with hands that had become useless appendages until they settled on his head. She threaded her fingers through his hair, marveling at the softness, such a contrast to everything else about him. From there, she followed a natural path to his neck, his shoulders. Biceps bulged as he braced himself on his forearms.
    He wedged a leg, strong and hirsute, between hers and pressed against the apex of her thighs, inciting a melee within—comfort and discomfort, satisfaction and dissatisfaction.
    His attentions grew rougher. He kissed her almost harshly, but she relished the abrasion of his chin, the crush of his mouth, the way his tongue plundered. His stony manhood dug into her leg, smearing a trail on her skin. Men ejaculated—she knew that, but hadn’t realized they leaked beforehand. Perhaps it was normal to produce moisture? Her own wetness trickled between the moons of her buttocks.
    He relinquished her mouth to deliver tingling kisses to her neck, and she moaned in rapture and rolled her head to the side. He nipped; she arched. He soothed each place he bit with his tongue, and she whimpered.
    He lifted his head. She stared at him, seeing for the first time an open countenance, her Alpha naked, his expression revealing the same yearning that gripped her.
    A spot of red stained his cheeks. “Your eyes are beautiful like the violet Parseon moon.”
    Before