Breeder (26 page)

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Authors: Cara Bristol

Tags: #Science Fiction & Space Opera, #Domestic Discipline, #Futuristic

BOOK: Breeder
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Once he had thought reform would be sufficient, but he had since abolished the Breeder Containment Facilities, though they still remained in provinces controlled by other Alphas.

“And what if she
wants
to bear offspring?”

Dak clicked his tongue impatiently. He curved his arm around Omra to shift her in front of him, her back pressed to his front. He covered the slight swell of her abdomen. She insisted this baby she carried was a male. “You know that is not what I am saying.”

“Nor did you say what keeps you from your slumber.” She persisted in her questioning but relaxed against him. She tilted her head and sought his gaze. “Is it the Enclave? Have there been more demonstrations?”

“There are always protests, growing with the size of the Enclave.” No longer a mere settlement, the collective had become an actual village, attracting more and more people every day, a testament that for many, Protocol had outlived its purpose. And rising protests indicated that for many, it was rock solid. A combustible impasse.

“Parseon is changing for the better,” she said softly. “Thanks to you.”

He shrugged. “I am doing my best.” To support the change. To quell the violence. For Miri. For Omra. He turned her in his arms. With a little tug, the robe she’d sewn from a vivid swath of pale purple Terran silk fell open. “Do we need to talk politics now?” He filled his hands with her breasts, rubbed his thumbs over her nipples.

“No,
Alpha
, we do not. That was my poi—” He cut off her sass with a kiss, and she twined her arms around his neck. He lifted her and carried her down the corridor to their chamber.

After depositing her on the platform, he shucked off his own robe and crawled over her to kiss her. She smiled against his mouth. “Isn’t this better?” she asked, unrepentantly impudent. She’d grown cheeky, this female of his. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

He trailed his lips along her jaw, nuzzled her ear. “I believe I must reiterate who is in charge of this domicile,” he whispered.

Before she could do more than widen her eyes, he upended her over his lap, positioning her buttocks that were as sassy as her mouth. He cupped his hand and swatted, delivering more sound than heat. Their union had altered, and he rarely used the sudon anymore, but he still liked to make her saucy cheeks blush on occasion. Liked the sight of her splayed across his knees, her kicks, her whimpers and moans. And the wetness. Oh yes, the wetness.

“Dak!” She laughed and splayed her hands over her posterior.

“Dak? Never heard of him.” He grabbed her wrists in a gentle grip and imprisoned them against her lower back. He spanked. She bucked and ground her hips against his hardening manhood. He peppered her bottom with whisperfly kisses.

“Alpha, Alpha,” she cried.

“That is correct. And who’s your Alpha?” He lightly stung her bottom. His cock, fully rigid now, wept. He slipped his fingers between her legs to find her as wet as he was hard.

“You are!” Her legs had fallen open to reveal glistening pinkness, swollen folds secured by his lock-ring. His. She was his.

Her moisture prevented him from gaining purchase on the device, and it resisted his efforts to open it. “You do not need to wear this thing,” he groused as if removing it were an inconvenience and not a pleasure that never failed to send a heated zing through his cock. And another zing when he reattached it. The ring popped open. He tugged it loose and dropped it on the floor, where it landed with a
thunk.

“I wear it because I choose to belong to you,” she said. “It is a symbol of my regard.”

It was a symbol of
his
regard that he no longer commanded her to. But he loved that she wore it. He no longer tried to untangle the knot of possessive pride and humility the lock-ring evoked. He just accepted it.

She rolled off his lap, straddled him, and sank onto his turgid member. All the way down. He was enveloped in wet fire, and he groaned. He ducked his head and sucked on her nipples until both were red and ripe; then he stretched out on the platform.

“Ride me, Omra,” he said in Terran.

“Yes, Alpha,” she answered pertly, bumping and grinding, squeezing her channel.

He homed in on her clitoris and stroked it, watching through lowered lids as her eyes darkened from lavender to violet. They reached the peak of ecstasy together, and though he loved to watch her face contort with her pleasure, when orgasm shuddered through him, he could not prevent his eyes from closing. He filled his mind with pictures of her face, her breasts, her sex.

Of her.

Mine
. At peace, he sighed.

Loose Id Titles by Cara Bristol

Breeder

Destiny’s Chance

Reckless in Moonlight

* * * *

The ROD AND CANE Series

Unexpected Consequences

False Pretences

Body Politics

* * * *

Disciplinary Measures

(a
Rod and Cane Society
Spring Fling)

Cara Bristol

Cara Bristol has written everything from mainstream long and short fiction to nonfiction magazine and newspaper articles. She sold her first erotic romance in 2009 and never looked back. Now multi-published, she has ten erotic romances and two anthologies to her name. The author of the popular
Rod and Cane Society
domestic discipline series, Cara writes spanking fiction most often, but her published works also include contemporary and paranormal erotic romances.
Breeder
is her first science fiction novel, which she is intends to be a series. She lives in the Midwest United States with her husband. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading, traveling, and watching reality TV shows.

She loves to hear from readers! Check out the links below to find out how to contact her.

Main Web site:
http://carabristol.com

Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/cara.bristol.3

Twitter:
http://www.twitter.com/#!/CaraBristol

Email:
[email protected]

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