Marauder Fenrir: Scifi Alien Invasion Romance (Mating Wars) (8 page)

BOOK: Marauder Fenrir: Scifi Alien Invasion Romance (Mating Wars)
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15
Fiona

I
make
Fenrir go with me to see the cows. We walk in silence toward the fenced-off pastures. Every five or six steps I look up to see the settlements above me. I’d seen old Earth’s blue sky in old movies, but seeing lakes and grass and towns miles above my head is almost as good.

We reach the fence, and the cows slowly move toward us.

“What do they want?” Fenrir asks.

“Food,” I say. “I think so, at least.”

“It’s inefficient,” Fenrir says. “You have to feed the cow many more calories than you get in return.”

“Did you like the chocolate?” I ask.

“Cows produce chocolate?” Fenrir asks, studying the cow.

“No,” I say, “but chocolate is even more inefficient. Cows produce all kinds of delicious stuff: cheese, milk, yogurt…”

“You spoke for me,” Fenrir says. “It made me look weak.”

“When negotiating,” I say, “sometimes you have to bend a little bit so that you don’t break. Do you understand?”

“No,” Fenrir says.

“You didn’t tell me there were more assassins. Was that true?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Fenrir says.

“Giving up that information to them,” Fiona says, “that was bending. If you had stonewalled them, Lindgren was going to win, and you’d be on an operating table right now.”

I watch Fenrir’s eyes. They are locked on the cow, and his ears are standing rigid. He’s deep in thought. He reaches through the fence and puts a hand on the cow, right between its eyes. He runs his hand up and down along its face, petting it.

The cow lets out a low hum, and its tail whips back and forth.

“When Aegus and Cygnus fled the fleet,” Fenrir says, “my best friend, Zarek, had been suspicious of Aegus ever since we all awoke from hibernation. He told me that we should keep an eye on him, but I found it shameful to be suspicious of such a strong warrior…”

Fenrir keeps petting the cow as he speaks, refusing to look at me as he tells his story. I can tell he doesn’t really want to tell me this, but feels he has to. I’m not sure why.

“To suspect a fellow Marauder of treason...it’s unheard of. I was furious with Zarek for forcing me to choose between my best friend and a warrior as respected as Aegus. It put me in a difficult situation: I couldn’t just keep silent, I had to fully back either Zarek or Aegus.”

“Aegus didn’t know that Zarek suspected him, and I went to Aegus. I told him Zarek was mistaken and suspected him of treason. I urged Aegus to try to forgive Zarek and somehow convince Zarek that there was nothing to fear.”

Fenrir stops petting the cow and turns to face me. I know that Aegus fled the main fleet, meaning Fenrir was wrong. Not only was he wrong, but he warned Aegus.

“So you owe all this shame debt,” I say, “because you warned Aegus and helped him commit treason?”

“Yes,” Fenrir says, “and because when Zarek went to go stop Aegus, I was not there. Cygnus killed Zarek to protect his brother, and then he fled as well.”

I feel my stomach churn. “So that’s why you have to kill Cygnus?”

“Yes,” Fenrir says.

* * *

W
e’re brought
to the Sortitiary for the triumvirate’s final decision. The huge room is full of habbers, all curious to see what kind of decision their new leaders have made.

We are brought to sit in seats in the front row, and we sit–well, I sit, while Fenrir stubbornly insists on standing–across from the triumvirate and ministers.

“The triumvirate,” Joachim says, standing up with shaking hands, “has decided...after
considerable
discussion,” he looks back at Miriam and Thorsten with a scowl, “that we will back the Minister of Peace’s plan. Fenrir and Fiona will be sent to the Martian surface, and they will be tasked with convincing Cygnus to meet with us on New Copenhagen.”

Fenrir looks down at me with a smug grin. Will he really kill Cygnus? And should I do anything to stop him? Or will he come to his senses and stop himself in time?

The habbers all start muttering, and Joachim quickly continues, silencing them. “However! One more thing! We don’t trust an alien who wants to destroy humanity, so...um....I gotta’ say I feel really bad about this part, but–.”

“Jesus, Joachim!” Miriam snaps. “I’ll say it if you don’t have the balls!”

Miriam stands up. “Since we don’t trust Fenrir, if he does anything on the surface other than convincing Cygnus to come meet with us, we’ll alert the Martian authorities that the war criminal Fiona is on the surface.”

Fenrir’s ears twitch rapidly, and I feel my chest tighten.

“I don’t know what that ear flicking shit means,” Miriam says, “but just in case it’s not clear to you, Fenrir, that means the Martians will kill your mate. Now, like, I know this sounds cruel or whatever, but if you do what you’re supposed to do, there’s no risk, okay? New Copenhagen has already agreed to get Fiona off the hook, so unless you fuck up and double cross us, there’s no reason for us to withdraw our protection.”

Miriam smiles out at the stunned crowd. “Any questions? No? Great! Off to the elevator with you!”

“I agree to these terms, but first I will need at least 100,000 kilocalories of food,” Fenrir says. “Preferably in the form of the following food items: chocolate, yogurt, cheese, and milk.”

* * *

A
fter Fenrir’s
all-you-can-eat dairy and chocolate buffet, we are loaded onto a shuttle and flown to the space elevator.

There’s an elevator tram waiting for us, and the habbers gently remind us that I will be killed by the Martian authorities if Fenrir fucks them over.

They shut the door, and we’re suddenly being lowered down on a nanowire toward Mars. It will take several hours to reach the surface, and the tram is set-up like a small hotel room.

The question is right on the tip of my tongue: will Fenrir prioritize revenge and clearing his shame debt over protecting me?

But I’m afraid to ask that question. “How can you move after eating all that food?”

He smiles. “Truly delicious. Most of the food went to feed my biosuit, which is once again active. When the Martians come for you, I will destroy them.”

I guess that answers my question.

I’m sitting on the bed, and he’s standing alongside me in his habber clothes, brooding, with his arms behind his back.

“Or,” I say, “you could just do what the habbers asked you to. Don’t you think it’s hypocritical to protect me?”

“No,” he says briskly.

“You will protect me now, but for what? Your fleet will arrive in about two years, and I’ll only be in my late 20’s, but I’ll be killed–along with the rest of humanity. Will you protect me from that? By helping the faction that wants to kill us all? You’re doing the complete opposite of protecting me.”

I pull on his arm, and he sits down on the bed next to me.

“I think you’re a good person–or a good Marauder–Fenrir. You’re just misguided.”

“A good Marauder does not betray his friend,” Fenrir says.

“But you’ll betray me?” I say. “What if Aegus and Cygnus are right? I’m sorry your best friend died, but you’re not forced onto one side. Listen to your heart.”

I put my hand on his chest, not even sure his heart is in the same place as a human’s. It is, though, because through his shirt I can feel it pounding fast against my hand.

“You heard of the Great Mother?” I say. “The human woman that Cygnus chose as his mate?”

“Yes,” Fenrir says. “The habbers mentioned her.”

“We can meet them,” I say, “and see their child. Why don’t you go see what peaceful coexistence looks like before you choose a side?”

My hand is still on his chest, and he grabs my wrist. I expect him to pull my hand off him, but he just begins stroking my arm.

“Or,” I say, looking up at him, “I can show you what it feels like.”

He locks eyes with me. His teal eyes burn deep into me and his grip tightens on my wrist.

“Good mating is not peaceful,” Fenrir says. “It’s a battle.”

“But it’s still coexistence,” I say, feeling my cheeks flush.

Giving him what he wants can possibly put him onto the right side, which can help to save humanity. It’s a noble reason to do this, but I realize that–deep down–I want to do this for entirely selfish reasons. I want him all for myself.

I put my free hand on his chest, and I feel his muscular body tense through his shirt.

“Shirt,” Fenrir says, “remove yourself.”

“Sorry!” the shirt says, “I can’t–.”

He grabs the material with one hand and tears it. The shirt rips off from his body, revealing his chiseled muscles.

My eyes fall down his body. I’ve seen him naked plenty of times already, but never in this context. Never knowing that I can actually have him.

“I assume the pants can’t remove themselves either,” I say, standing up from the bed.

I grab his pants by the waist and pull, tearing them off. Now he’s naked again, and his teal cock is standing hard and tall. It springs back and forth as the pants fall away from his body.

I see the Martian surface through the window of the tram. The wispy clouds of the weak atmosphere are still below us, and I can still make out the curve of the sphere. There are still many hours to go–hours before we have to start our mission. Hours for us to fuck.

I pull my shirt off and unfasten my bra. I’m surprised at how hard and pointed my nipples are already, and Fenrir’s cock must be as well, as his jaw hangs open wide. His ears are nearly as erect as his cock.

“The Seraphic Form…” he mutters.

I take my pants and panties off in one pull, not wanting to have to fight with them later, and not wanting Fenrir to rip them to shreds like he did to his own shirt.

The moment my pants hit the ground, he leaps from the bed and grabs me forcefully. He shoves me against the window, my ass hitting the cold glass. His lips crush into mine, and his warm tongue finds mine. An electric shock pulses down my body as he kisses me, and his strong body shoves me against the glass window.

His hand first makes contact with my wide hips, and slowly he moves his hand up along the side of my body. It dips down to the curve of my waist, and then up toward my breast. He looks down at me with intense desire as he touches me, and I see hunger in his eyes.

His hand reaches over to my breast, and he squeezes it gently. I’d never expected such tenderness was possible from the brutish alien, but his light touch on my tender flesh shows a softer side.

I grip his waist as he touches me, feeling his hard and muscled purple skin. He’s warm as a furnace, in stark contrast to the cold glass pressing against my backside.

He’s so tall that his hard cock presses against my sternum, and I feel it vibrating against me as his fingers begin circling my areola.

I reach down and touch his ass, gently at first. But as soon as his finger touches and tweaks my nipple, I moan and squeeze the globe of his ass hard.

His cock suddenly feels wet between my breasts, and I press them together around his hard teal rod.

He lets go of my breast and grunts. He begins slowly thrusting between my tits, and it feels beautifully warm and incredibly wet.

“How is your dick wet?” I ask, astonished.

“Lubricant, of course,” he says.

“I didn’t see you...it’s self-lubricating?”

“Of course,” he says. “Why would any female want a dry cock?”

I can’t argue with that logic, and feeling his wet cock vibrating between my breasts further convinces me. He pushes my hands away and grabs hold of my breasts. He thumbs my nipples as he fucks me between my breasts. I feel wetness pooling between my legs, and my pussy burns hot and aches with desire to feel Fenrir inside me.

He sniffs once, and I see his eyes look down. He lets go of my breasts and falls to his knees.

Before I even realize what’s happening, his head is positioned between my legs, and I feel his warm slick tongue press against my wetness.

I gasp in surprise, and pleasure. He grabs hold of my thighs roughly with both hands, and his tongue runs rhythmically up and down my wet pussy lips, slowly and thirstily.

He reaches his hands around and grabs hold of my ass, squeezing both cheeks.

BOOK: Marauder Fenrir: Scifi Alien Invasion Romance (Mating Wars)
13.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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