Brocke: Alien Warlord's Conquest (Scifi Surprise Pregnancy Alien Military Romance) (5 page)

“It can’t be the Ambassador,” Cora said at once. “She wouldn’t…”

“I don’t think it’s her, but she needs to find out who it is. Terran or Corgan, it doesn’t matter. There is a traitor in the embassy.”

Cora’s face was very pale as she nodded.

“Yes,” she said very quietly. “And I think I know now how Condor’s allies found their victims.”

S
he felt very
weird about inviting Brocke into her home, but it made sense to have him close. It seemed their mission was already known to Condor, and there was safety to be found in numbers.

Usually, it would have been Cora protecting a witness or an informant, but this time she was clearly the one being protected.

And,
Cora reminded herself,
it doesn’t have to be weird if I don’t make it so. So there’s a gorgeous man in my quarters, what’s the worst that could happen?

Her treacherous mind kept parading images of the
best
that could happen before her eyes. They were so graphic Cora felt herself blushing slightly at a few. She hadn’t known it was her undying wish to be fucked seven days into next week until she couldn’t walk, but it appeared to be so.

It definitely didn’t help her work, but Cora pushed her dirty thoughts to the background the best she could.

Brocke was looking around her quarters in the Militant’s living facilities. The building was a two-storied house not far from the embassy meant for the Union’s officers. Cora had three nice rooms to herself, but she suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious about them. She had never seen a Corgan warrior’s rooms.

What do they even look like? They have to sleep at some point, right?

For some reason, Cora could only imagine two possibilities: they would be amazingly lavish, decorated with war trophies and weapon racks, or extremely Spartan, with little more than a bed and a place to hone their swords.

She watched Brocke check her security measures, thinking that he looked terribly out of place in her little world. There was something about her stuff – the memorabilia she’d brought with her from Terra, and her attempts to make the place homier – that made the six foot five warrior stand out in the middle of it all.

“Do you want anything?” she asked, feeling a level of awkwardness she hadn’t felt in a while. “I don’t know if warriors drink.”

Brocke gave her an amused look that sent a shiver down Cora’s spine.

“If we did, would you have Corgan alcohol in your home?” he asked.

“I might,” Cora shot back, shuffling around and looking for her impulsively purchased secret stash that she had never thought would actually come in handy. “Condor is a headache.”

She found the huge bottle in the corner of one of her cupboards. A surge of gratitude went through Cora. She had bought the sample after Ashby said Corgan alcohol worked wonders on Terrans and if that wasn't a challenge, Cora didn't know what was.

So she'd went out and gotten some, but never ended up taking a sip. Cora didn't think she was the drinking alone type, but now she had company.

Brocke ended up accepting a mug of the best brew Gaiya had to offer – according to the guy who'd sold it to Cora, anyway – and poured her a glass as well. The warlord sat down opposite of her behind Cora's work station, looking at the map of Gaiya she brought up on the console built into the table. Cora began entering the information she’d gotten from the embassy as well as bringing up the readings from the orbital platform.

After they came down from the roof, things in the embassy had progressed very fast. The slightest hint of a traitor was enough to make Ambassador Swann fume with fury. Disregarding all official protocol, she had stuck the pilot in a room with Brocke and so Cora had ended up watching the "interrogation" through cameras. Only she wasn't sure if it still qualified if Brocke never spoke a word, didn't do more than enter the room like an avatar of death.

Cora had watched as simple silence broke people.

The man had almost screamed when Brocke stepped into the room. The warrior didn’t need to say a single word for the pilot to spill everything he knew, which wasn’t much, unfortunately.

It had been amazing, really. There had been no need for threats or violence, nothing for the Union to hold against Brocke. Just he alone was enough for the pilot to twist himself into knots, interrogate himself better than any of them could ever have.

He mentioned Gomor, and Cora had noticed that Ambassador Swann wasn’t surprised. It was a great start to her own information gathering.

And so there they were. Over the glowing light of the table projecting the map of Eborat and its surroundings, Brocke was looking at her.

“What did the Ambassador give you?” he asked, his voice deep and dark. “I didn’t hear you speak, but she didn’t leave happy.”

Cora snorted, but the joke was on her.

Or maybe not.

The joke was on the half-breed victims, and it wasn’t a very funny one, which was why she’d done what she had to do.

“I confronted her,” she said, marking the layers she wanted to see on the map.

The program Cora had built from the moment she set foot on Gaiya wasn't a technological wonder, exactly, but it was better than anything the others had. On a very basic level, it was a crude AI that made sense of everything she fed to it.

Some would have considered her use of an AI-s intelligence for such a menial task an insult, but Cora got her results. Using only her own mind, it would have taken her weeks to put it all together, but the program did it in hours on a slow day.

She inserted every detail Cora could think there. The program cross-referenced it all, matching weather reports to traffic, to witness accounts, and to the weapons manufacturers. Cora had often thought she used the program as another brain, but that was only fair.

She got her answers because she noticed the important things and fed them to the AI: together they were able to make sense of the terrible crimes that were happening on Gaiya.

It was right, too, because the cooperation between Corgans and Terrans just wasn't very enthusiastic. Cora had needed to give it a good kick to get any information at all.

Understanding dawned on Brocke’s face as he leaned back in his seat, drinking the mead.

“About the traitor,” the warlord said, quirking a brow. “No wonder she looked so pissed. It can’t be good for her.”

“She knew already,” Cora said, looking at him to see whether it incited any reaction. “Zoey is smart. She didn’t miss the fact her personnel let the enemy use her roof as some kind of a drop zone without interfering. She’s hunting down the person responsible as we speak.”

“But that’s not the reason the Ambassador was so upset,” Brocke finished for her, apparently reading her like a book.

Cora allowed herself a small smile.

“No,” she admitted. “I asked something of her that she absolutely didn’t want to divulge, but I convinced her that it was to catch Condor and his killers. So eventually she agreed, but if I get caught, the Union will lock me away until the day I die.”

All ease was gone from Brocke as the warrior sat and waited. Cora kept setting up the map, wondering what he would think of her actions. She didn’t know why, but his approval mattered to her. It was important that Brocke understand. If anyone supported Cora in what she was doing, surely Brocke would – after all, he was the guardian of the worst scum in the Corgan realms, on the hunt for killers who had used the same method for finding their victims.

“You know about the Palians, right?” she asked.

“Of course,” Brocke said, his tone darker than Cora would have liked. “We call them the Union’s brains. They have invented half the technology you use and improve the other part. Even we have adapted a few of their accomplishments. What of them?”

“They can determine someone’s genetic code through a simple scan from orbit,” Cora said, not looking at him. “It is against Union law, of course, but they can. We consider it one of most awful violations of personal rights, which is why the ambassador was so appalled. She relented, however, when I pointed out that it was possible one of the embassy’s workers had used the same method to pick victims for the killers.”

She finally dared to raise her eyes to Brocke again, but instead of disgust, the warrior looked… impressed?

Her hands stopped adding and removing markers to the map, simply staring at him.

“That is brilliant,” Brocke finally said.

“It’s horrible,” Cora argued. “But I’m doing it anyway. I’m cross-referencing all my findings from the cases I’ve worked on and adding the current locations of all the half-breeds. This is a terrible thing I’m doing, but Condor must be stopped before his operation gets more influential. Judging from what you’ve said, that is going to happen?”

“Undoubtedly,” Brocke said, studying the map with interest. “Now that Condor is out, he will target all of them. I don’t know how far he can reach, but I’m glad my sister is not on Gaiya right now.”

“She was the first half-breed,” Cora stated. “Condor would want her, I think.”

Brocke laughed, his blue eyes shining in the light of the map.

“He can try prying her away from the chieftain’s elite warriors,” he said. “I think Deva is one of the few people on this map who doesn’t need to fear anything right now.”

Cora looked at the map, feeling the burden of her choices. All the work she was proud of. It was all there, had all been there for weeks now as she built her research. The locations where the bodies were found. Where they lived. Witnesses. Clues and hints. The manner of their death as well as the necessary circumstances. She had added the latest finding too – the drowned man.

And then there were the red dots all over the map, marking the half-breeds out from the others. Cora didn’t know how exactly Palian technology determined that, but it worked. There was a red dot in her quarters, clear as day.

When she looked up, Brocke's eyes were on her.

“I don’t care about the Union,” the guardian said, his deep voice etched with certainty. “There are many species in the galaxy, and if some of them are so bothered by others knowing what they are, that is their choice. But we are Corgan. No one in this realm would mind this unless it’s used in the way you figured out it was used. You are not doing anything wrong.”

Cora didn’t entirely agree, but the fact that he approved helped, a lot. There was a fierce determination to Brocke which she really liked. Things were
simple
with him.

A fighter is shooting at you? Jump on it. Makes sense. Need answers? Get them.

It was nice.

Cora smiled, lifting her mead in a toast. Between them, the map calculated, trying to find something significant enough for them to chase before the enemy came looking for them.

She took a sip and nearly spat it out straight away. Brocke watched her cough, an amused grin on his face.

"I should have warned you, perhaps," the guardian said. "Terrans usually don't like the taste of Corgan mead."

"You think?" Cora asked, wheezing, her hand shaking a little around the cup. "Gods, this tastes like the chemical solutions Ashby uses to disinfect the bodies must."

Brocke laughed, nodding.

"It packs a punch," he agreed. "It gets better."

"Does it now?" Cora smiled. "I find that hard to believe."

When Brocke didn't immediately answer, Cora gave him a playful look and walked back to her little kitchen.

"I'll take your word for it," she said, browsing the contents of her fridge. "But I think it would be better if I found something to bury the taste –"

Strong hands came around her and turned Cora to face the guardian. Her breath was caught as it was immediately clear to her that the light in Brocke's eyes suddenly burned for her and her alone.

His lips caught hers in a fierce, passionate kiss and Cora had to agree he had a point. When a girl was kissed like that, even Corgan mead didn't taste so bad on her tongue.

I
t was
reckless and sudden and so completely out of the blue, but in Cora's mind, all of those things were turn-ons instead of arguments to stop.

And if she really thought about it, perhaps not so out of the blue after all. At least for her part, Cora knew the attraction had been there the second she saw the guardian walk into the room in Gomor. It was very clear that Brocke felt the same way about her, so who said they couldn't do what they both obviously wanted?

The Corgan mead
did
pack a good punch, but Cora knew it really had nothing to do with her decision to let Brocke lead her to the couch and pull her into his arms.

Somehow, Cora still had the mug of mead in her hand. She sat on Brocke's wide lap, straddling his powerful thighs, gazing down at him as her head spun.

Brocke's hands were slowly running up Cora's legs, coming to push her uniform shirt out of the way. Feeling his warm hands on her skin was enough to bring the first quiet moan over her lips. Cora turned around and put the mead on the table behind them.

"I think I’ve had enough," she said, looking at Brocke again. "I have a feeling I want to remember this."

Getting ahead of ourselves, are we?
her mind pitched in.
So this is what the mead does. Removes the filter between the brain and the tongue.

Cora thought her inner voice wasn't keeping up to date with what was happening, because the look in Brocke's eyes told her without a shadow of a doubt they were on the same page. The guardian wasn't going to stop and Cora didn't want him to.

Brocke pulled her shirt over her head, a low, appreciative groan coming over his lips as he looked at Cora. She saw the way his eyes traveled over her half-naked body, loved the the guardian's fingers tugged at the straps of her bra.

"One sip was already impressive," Brocke said, musing. "I've seen grown men gag over less."

"You tricked me," Cora said, swapping his hands away playfully despite the fact she wanted those amazing fingers everywhere on her body.

"You knew I couldn't finish the drink."

"I wanted to see how far you would get," Brocke admitted. "Your friend has a weird sense of humor, I must say."

Cora was about to say something further, but when Brocke kissed her again, it swept everything and everyone but him out of her mind.

The guardian wrapped his hands around her, pulling Cora against him. Brocke's lips were demanding and hungry on hers, their tongues battling each other. The dark armor was cold against Cora's bare skin, in sharp contrast to how warm Brocke's lips were, drinking in her moans as he groped her.

Brocke ripped off her bra and Cora bit his lip in answer, pulling back with a teasing grin.

She saw the way Brocke's eyes took in her naked form, the flame burning in his eyes growing only brighter. Since the moment they sat down, Brocke hadn't taken his hands off her for a second, running them over every inch of Cora's body.

"I want to see you," Cora said, hearing her voice shake a little. "Let me touch you."

"Get on the bed," Brocke ordered in return.

Cora obeyed, her heart beating so fast she thought it would burst. She got up, backing away towards her bedroom, watching the guardian follow her with a predatory prowl, a feral grin on his lips. It was like he was on the hunt and Cora was the prey.

She had no objections to that. Every step Brocke took, he unhooked the clasps of his armor, letting them fall to the floor unceremoniously. It sent pleasant shivers down Cora's spine, to see how little he cared about the precious armor when compared to how much he clearly wanted her.

Inch by inch, the warlord's impressive body was revealed from under the dark metal covering it. At some point, Cora forgot to stop moving and simply stood, staring.

Brocke was magnificent. His body was like a temple to physical perfection, tanned skin pulled taut over ripped muscles bulging with the slightest movement. Brocke had seemed intimidatingly huge to her before, but now Cora saw his size hadn't merely been an illusion created by the armor.

She didn't think she could wrap her hands around his biceps, even less around his chest. He was picture perfect in a way that almost defied nature.

Cora caught herself licking her lips, her eyes nailed to Brocke's stunning form, standing stark naked before her now. She moaned despite the shiver going through her, looking at his huge cock, rock-hard and thicker than any Cora had ever seen. Her wet pussy trembled in excitement even if her mind was trying to figure out if she could actually take a cock that large.

She had thought they would take it nice and slow. Kiss a little, cuddle a bit, get some good old-fashioned foreplay in, but seeing Brocke like that, Cora knew she couldn't wait. Lust was burning in her veins and she could see she wasn't alone in that.

Brocke's powerful body was almost shaking as he tried to control himself, coming her way again.

"Take me," Cora wanted to say, but it came out little more than a whisper. "Oh fuck I need you to fuck me right now–"

She only had enough time to back into her bedroom before Brocke charged her. Cora yelped, seeing the way the warlord jumped into action. The flare she'd seen in his eyes told Cora she better know what she'd just unleashed.

The guardian grabbed her into his arms, ripping her pants in two without so much as a warning, but it only made Cora cry out in pleasure. She didn't remember ever being so wet, her panties were soaked from the mere idea of being fucked by such a man.

Cora dragged her fingers over Brocke's flesh as the warlord ripped every item of clothing she still wore from her body until she stood before him, bared to his lusty gaze.

There were no more words.

Brocke lifted her into his lap and Cora wrapped her hands around his thick neck, kissing him wildly. For a second, she was terrified that Brocke was simply going to thrust inside her and split her in two, but he seemed to maintain some control at least.

Instead, Cora screamed in pleasure as Brocke pushed two fingers inside her, twisting them in her wet pussy. Cora was grinding herself against him shamelessly, unable to stop her body from reacting to the delicious torture he was inflicting on her.

Lifting her higher, Brocke licked and sucked Cora's nipples into his mouth one at a time, teasing her breasts with his tongue while he added a third finger inside her.

"You're so damn tight," Brocke murmured, his voice low and husky. "You'll feel so good around my cock. I can tell how much you want me, your pussy is aching for me."

"
Yes
," Cora whispered, breathless.

The guardian kissed her so hard Cora's lips hurt, but the desire had buried them both underneath it so deeply there was nothing else but the lust between them. She answered in kind, her hands fisted in Brocke's dark messy hair, pressing their bodies together so tightly there was no air between their bodies.

"Tell me how badly you need it," Brocke ordered roughly. "I want to hear you ask for it."

It took a moment for Cora to get any words across her lips. Brocke's fingers were hitting the spot of pleasure inside her with every ruthless twist of his wrist, his thumb rubbing her clit, driving Cora fast out of her mind. She was trembling in Brocke's arms, writhing without abandon against his marble-like chest.

"I want your cock," Cora finally managed to whisper breathlessly. "I need you to fuck me so hard I can't remember my own name. Oh god
yes there
..."

Brocke didn't need to be told that twice.

Pulling his fingers out of Cora's pussy, Brocke braced himself against her entrance, teasing her clit with the tip of his cock. Cora whined in protest, her body needing to be filled again, stretched open for him. She spread her legs as best as she could, but Brocke had no problem holding her up.

He slammed inside in one swift thrust, making Cora scream so hard she thought she'd lost her voice for good. Her pussy clamped down on Brocke's thick cock, the ecstasy of it making every nerve in her body sing in tune. For a second Cora felt like she could come from that alone, but she held on, needing more. It was too good to end, ever.

Brocke let her body adjust to his hard length before he settled into a brutal rhythm. He kissed Cora passionately, the guardian's tongue exploring her mouth like she was the sweetest thing he ever tasted.

Despite the preparation, Cora felt like the cock inside her was going to break her after all. Only instead of the dread she should have felt, her body kept rocking against Brocke's in mindless need.

"Fuck this feels so good–" she panted, but apparently Brocke took the fact Cora could still speak as an insult.

In the next moment, he pushed his hands underneath Cora's legs. Her breath was caught as Brocke's deep eyes shone like blue flames and when the warlord thrust in again, the angle was perfect.

The pleasure was so maddeningly overwhelming Cora nearly let go, her fingers slipping on Brocke's skin. She had to close her eyes to endure the pleasure and not cum right then and there.

Brocke held her open for his huge cock and pounded into her without pause or concern. Cora's cries seemed to urge him on and she loved it. Her body struggled to accept the merciless pace, but her pussy throbbed around Brocke's thick shaft, trying to pull it in deeper and harder every time he buried himself into her, balls deep.

Every inch of Cora, from head to toe, was rocked in the storm that was Brocke. Her limbs were quickly losing any feeling at all as her body became nothing but a tool in the guardian's hands. Cora looked at the way Brocke's amazing cock pounded into her, pulling almost entirely out of her before Brocke thrust into her again.

Her lips were parted, taking breathless gasps as Brocke did as Cora had asked. The world was gone from around them as she could no longer even remember where they were. The only thing that mattered was that Brocke never stop fucking her.

"You feel incredible," the warlord growled. "Open that pretty mouth of yours. I want to hear how much you love this."

Cora obeyed again, unable to hold anything back from him.

"I do," she panted. "I fucking love it – yes
, fuck yes –
"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Cora knew she couldn't last much longer. Brocke's cock was filling her pussy to the brink, hitting the spot in her with every thrust, right where she needed it. Her body was already oversensitive, the stimulation threatening to undo her any second.

Looking at Brocke's blue eyes staring right at her, Cora knew both of them were close to the edge.

"I'm gonna..." she tried to say, gasping for air wildly, but it seemed Brocke already knew.

He grunted and picked up the pace one last time, fucking her without mercy and rhythm. Cora screamed, feeling how much he needed her, so badly Brocke couldn't control his own actions. His cock throbbed inside her pussy and it triggered Cora's orgasm, so blinding she nearly fell again.

Pressing herself against Brocke's solid, firm chest, Cora let him ride out their mutual orgasm as her body trembled in the aftershock. She cried out as Brocke's last thrusts rocked her pussy until the warlord cummed too, spilling his seed into her wetness.

Cora could feel the warmth of it as Brocke held them in place for a long moment before slowly walking to the bed they had never reached and lowered Cora gently on the sheets. His cum trickled out of her pussy, running down her thighs and Cora could see Brocke's cock harden again, looking at his seed on her skin.

He turned away and went for the mead she’d left on the counter. He took a long sip and handed it to Cora.

“Drink,” he commanded. “You’ll need it.”

Cora gulped, expectation and a tiny hint of expectation mingling within her. Clearly, the warlord was not ready to end the night quite yet.

Good.

Neither was she.

Cora drank.

S
he woke up with a terrible
, truly mind-shattering headache.

Damn Corgan mead. I will have to give Ashby a piece of my mind. My head!

The next second brought clarity when Cora realized there was a pair of strong arms around her.

Naked
.

The word rushed through her brain without stopping. Cora’s eyes flew wide open as she started to realize pretty much everything was naked. She, for example. Also Brocke, holding her in his embrace surprisingly gently.

Oh. Right. That happened. Holy fuck.

S
he climbed
out of the bed, turning to see Brocke regard her with a surprised look. The warrior looked even more gorgeous than on the night before, bared to her gaze. Cora had to take a deep breath before she could focus again.

He was positively stunning, that’s what he was. But in the light of day, Cora wondered where their spontaneous passion was going to leave them.

“Cora,” Brocke said, clearly seeing her distress.

She knew it hadn't been all mead. After all, she'd only taken one sip before the first time. Even if it had helped to pave the way, she hadn’t been too drunk to not be responsible for her actions. There hadn’t been nearly enough mead to actually get wasted, it just made her head feel like it was being banged against a tower bell.

A few memories stood out as well. Words that were too embarrassing even to hear in her own mind echoed in her ears, making Cora quickly cover herself up.

Well, fuck. How can I say it’s his fault when I pleaded with him so nicely?

She looked at the warrior, trying to figure out a way to explain that Terran girls sometimes had terrible judgment around men who were handsome enough to die for.

I don’t think this guy has ever been called a mistake. I can't even convince myself.

Especially when Cora realized she couldn’t conjure enough regret to make that a plausible argument. The images of their fucking were in her head, and she didn’t want to ruin them. That amazing body thrusting into her, the way the orgasm had almost made her black out with its intensity. Those blue eyes shining down at her, filled with passion.