Authors: Elle Thorne
His Human Hellion
Emotions wreak havoc on an Asazi soldier when he discovers the human he loves is pregnant with the child that could kill her.
Finn has a new mission. Save Marissa. Any way he can.
That’s no easy task when Marissa is the most stubborn, headstrong woman—correction—human he’s ever met.
A spitfire Texan finds herself in love with a man who isn’t supposed to have emotions, and isn’t even a man, except, he’s more man than any man she’s ever met before. And now she’s pregnant with his child. A child that could kill her.
Marissa jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire when she fell in love with Finn. Now he says the only way to save her life is to take her to his planet?
I don’t think so.
His Human Hellion
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Published by Barbed Borders Press
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
Cover Design by Melody Simmons
His Human Hellion
Barbed Borders Press
Finn’s phone vibrated a message. He pulled it out of his pocket, expecting to see an
text from Marissa. Instead, he found a whole different kind of message.
Finn dropped the phone as if it were a live rattlesnake. Rattlesnakes were something he’d become accustomed to in the last few weeks in Arizona
on the land the Asazi used as one of their settling areas. The compound was remote and isolated. Snakes were the nearest thing Finn and Marissa had for company. Snakes, rabbits, coyotes, birds of prey, scorpions.
up the phone, pocketed it. He’d been walking the perimeter of the fencing, making sure it was secure, and that there was no chance they’d aroused any suspicions or curiosity among the local humans. He scanned the horizon for witnesses. There was no time to waste and running would take longer. He lifted off, using the powerful Asazi wings which had only gotten stronger since he’d discovered them a few weeks ago. One thing he’d become convinced of, that it wasn’t Earth food that gave him the ability to fly, it was probably the absence of Asazi food. He wondered what could be in it, and wanted to ask Kal, but also did not believe that Kal would know the answer. Kal would not hide this from him. He was certain of that. They’d always been closer than brothers. Kal would not keep secrets from him.
Like you don’t keep them from him?
The voice of doubt cast aspersions on his relationship with Kal. He shoved those thoughts aside and brought his mind to his current problem. A most pressing one. Hopefully Marissa was wrong. Very wrong.
It couldn’t be.
There was no way she was pregnant. He’d been careful. He’d had her be careful. They’d taken all the precautions necessary for humans not to become pregnant.
He flew at a furious pace, his heart pounding in his chest. When the ranch house they lived in came into view he scanned the yard for
Marissa. Nothing. The pickup was parked in the driveway. He landed with a thud, anxious to see if it was true. To see if she was pregnant.
To make sure she was alive.
Kal’s words resonated in his mind, reverberating in his heart.
One warning. Do not let her get pregnant. Human women die giving birth to Asazi babies. Your mother did, and every other one before her.
Now Finn had failed. She was pregnant
, and she would die giving birth to their child. A child he’d tried to prevent. When could this have happened?
Still in the dirt, one thing crossed his mind. If she miscarried the child, before it became large enough to kill her, then she would live. His love would live.
He catapulted to his feet, slammed through the door, running throughout the house to find her. He burst into the kitchen.
Marissa dropped the pan she was holding, it clattered to the ground. “What the hell! You scared me.”
She focused on him, eyes scanning his face, surveying, taking measure. “Finn, what’s wrong? Why are you out of breath?”
Finn ran into the room, a film of sweat glistening on his skin, refracting the purplish-blue color, the tiny scales shifting and glimmering. Considering her news, it was odd, for him to be that color. The color of worry and sadness. His face was a mask of concern. She would have thought he’d be happy, overjoyed.
He paused, leaning against the doorjamb, almost seeming to need the support, his chest heavin
g with every breath.
She studied his sexiness, still stunned that this man was a part of her life. His eyes glowed in the afternoon sunlight, catching the rays, his face with a few days
beard. She warmed at the memory of what that scruff did to her tender flesh between her legs this morning.
She approached him, slipping her hand inside his shirt, running her fingertips along his pecs, then down, slipping them into the waistband of his pants. He sucked a breath in, his shaft instantly responding
to her touch, firming with the same hardness he’d had earlier that morning when they’d made love.
Behind him, his wings flared, opening with a whoosh of air and sound, longer than his height, m
agnificently diaphanous, but oh-so-very-male on his muscled body.
“It’s hot outside. You’ve worked up a sweat.” Marissa unbuttoned, unzipped his pants in one smooth move. She knelt next to him, inhaling his scent, all man, all sweat.
She rose, grabbed his hand, hastening to the shower, she imagined lathering and pleasuring him under the water spray.
She was yanked back by his unmoving stance. His body a statue, his arm outstretched, his hand still in hers
, a frown creasing his forehead. What was wrong with him? He’d never given their sexual play a second thought before. She tugged his fingers. “Come on. Join me in the shower.”
She stripped her top off, one hand went behind her back and the bra was loosened. She made a slow show of removing it, lowering it slowly until one nipple, then the other was revealed, both pebbled, cresting, rosy red buds waiting for his touch.
A part of him wanted to take the offering. To take this woman and complete the act. They couldn’t get enough of each other since they’d first started.
The other part reminded him that she was pregnant. That she could die in a few short months if nothing were done about the pregnancy. Done? Like what could be done? He knew the options. But he wasn’t sure about her stance.
She took her breasts in her hands, weighing them, angling her fingers perfectly to be able to pinch a nipple and roll it between the fingers of each hand. With every motion, he became harder and harder, and the part of him that wanted to rationalize the problem grew more and more detached.
She dropped to her knees in front of him, eyes on his face, she pushed his already open pants down to his knees. The way she licked her lips, with her tongue so close to his shaft created a tremor that passed over his body.
As if in slow motion
, she opened her mouth, and with her eyes still glued on his, took the head of his sex in, sealing it in with her lips, sucking on it gently while her hands still weighed, hefted, rolled, and pinched her breasts.
The moan that came from
his mouth didn’t even sound like his own voice. He arched his hips, putting his hands on his back to keep from grabbing her head and shoving his entirety into her hot, wet mouth.
“Marissa.” His voice was a hiss. He needed to concentrate
, but the only thing that he could concentrate on was the pull of her mouth, the way it took him in deeper, the way the head of his member pushed against the back of her mouth.
Finn grabbed the doorjamb for support. Who would have thought, a few weeks ago, he’d be experiencing such all-consuming passion? Such lust? And such love for someone in this way?
Her green eyes mesmerized him, drawing him in as she took him in, his shaft disappearing in her mouth. He couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t allow anything to take her away from him. Not even his child. He had to do something about it. But right now he couldn’t think, all he could do was enjoy.
Marissa rose to her feet, her body close to his, her nipples rubbing on his abdomen, his chest, while his shaft trailed along her naked torso. When she was fully standing
, she took his hand in hers and pulled him toward the porch, walking backward, facing him, her breasts swaying, her free hand unsnapping her skirt, letting it drop, stepping out of it, still continuing her backward egress.
Outdoors? He opened his mouth to question her, but didn’t give in to the impulse. She occasionally had innovative ideas that led to interesting occurrences.
With only a pair of panties on, she turned away and drew him to the oversized stump on the porch. The stump they used as a table. She led him to the chair across from the stump, but within reaching distance, if he stretched. She took a spot on the stump, back straight, legs slightly open, topless, the afternoon sun bathing her body in a golden light, the tiny light-colored hairs on her abdomen catching the rays, shining. She smiled at him, spread her legs more, her sex outlined by the almost sheer fabric of her panties.
Taking one index finger, she ran it between the
outline of her fabric-covered lips.
Finn’s member twitched. She’d never touched herself for him before, it reminded him of that day in the hotel, and those videos he’d seen.
His breathing was turning into panting, blood coursed through his body, followed by electric currents of desire.
He leaned forward, put his finger on hers, letting her trail both their fingers over her sex, feeling the heat contained within. She traveled her hand up, to the top of her waistband and slipped her hand inside
, just barely entering the barrier of her waistband.
Finn’s finger separated from hers, traveled down to her lips, to her entrance. He pushed on the fabric, gently, with a fingertip, watching it enter her, watching his finger and the fabric making an indentation as it breached her body. His other hand crept to his shaft, almost on its own volition. He stroked his hardness, poking his finger in deeper, wondering how much give her panties had, how far in he’d be able to put his finger while the fabric created a barricade.
Marissa’s moan broke him. That one moan set him off. Panties be damned. He shoved the fabric aside, marveling at her dark pink and red skin, the moisture making her folds sleek. Marissa pushed her legs further apart, placed a hand on each side of her sex, pushing her flesh apart, giving him a better view of the area he wanted to sink into, to plunge the depths of.
Managing to rise to a stand, aching to be deep within her, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet, slipping a thumb on each side of her panties, he pulled them down, turned Marissa around, and had her kneel on the stump. Taking her hands, he placed them on the wooden porch floor.
Her light brown ass was in the air, her folds beckoning, her breasts swaying. Stopping to tweak and roll each nipple, fueled by her whimpers of pleasure, Finn positioned himself perfectly behind her, placing his head against her entrance, running it down toward her clit then back up to her ass, pausing to enjoy watching her contract and flex with anticipation, her inner entrance almost winking at him.
Marissa pressed backward, tempting his member, almost taking him in, he backed up
. It wasn’t time yet.
“Finn. Now.” Her voice was desperate. “Please.”
Grabbing her hips, he drove into her with the fierceness of his emotions, of his fears, of his pleasures. He plunged the depths, relishing the tightness of her enveloping his shaft, the way it spread her out, then closed back in around him, making a tight sheath that pulled him deeper, threatened to milk him prematurely. Finn pushed and plundered, taking, giving, driving, lost in the grip of her muscles, unable to function or think of pleasing or pleasure, driven by the need to burst.
With every thrust, Marissa grunted and pushed back, her backward thrusts wild, matching his, her gasps loud.
Unable to contain this, still not totally in control of the passions that drove him, Finn yanked her hips close, buried himself deep. He tried to stop the flow, but when she screamed and tightened in an orgasm, he fully lost the battle, matching her outcry, shuddering, filling her completely.