Her Mate’s Secret Baby

Chapter 1

1

Natalie Montgomery, Bride Processing Center, North America

“Keep that stimsphere in your p***y, gara.”

The voice was deep and commanding and I didn’t know what a stimsphere was, nor what gara meant. I knew, though, that if I stopped clenching my inner walls around the heavy, solid object, it would fall to the soft rug beneath my bare feet. The round object was inside me, teasing me with what I really wanted… my mate’s hard c**k.

I closed my eyes, trying to keep the smooth object within. But I was too wet. Too hot. Too ready for my mate to claim me. I knew the ball would fall, and I’d be punished. Again.

The thought made me moan with pleasure, even as a large, warm hand traced the length of my spine from the base of my neck, down over my curves to rest on my bare bottom. Prickly heat stung where I knew he’d spanked me because I let the sphere fall once already. The pressure of it stretching me, filling me, was a carnal tease and my p***y ached for release, ached to tighten around his c**k instead. Sweat dripped from my brow as I felt the sphere slip, sensed it at the entrance to my core. About to fall. Not again!

Shifting my hips, I tried to stop the inevitable even as the deep male voice behind me chuckled at my struggle.

“Naughty mate, I see the stimsphere. Hold it inside that wet p***y, or I’ll spank you again.”

“I… I can’t.” I was leaning over a small, padded table. I tugged on my arms but realized I was bound to it, ankles and wrists. A cushion was beneath my belly, and while comfortable, I realized I was positioned perfectly for him to do whatever he wanted. My ass was in the air, my bare p***y perfectly exposed for him to see. I could not hide from him.

My mate placed both large hands on my bottom, one on each side, and pulled them apart to inspect me. I’d never been so exposed. So vulnerable.

I expected to feel shame, or embarrassment. But this woman’s body reveled in his inspection, knew what would follow.

“You are so wet for me. I understand why you’re having trouble, gara.” His deep voice was rough with his own desire. How I knew that, how I knew exactly how my mate sounded when he was about to lose control and give me what I wanted, I had no idea. But I did. He was close. I just needed to push him. Tempt him.

Shaking with need, I felt cold metal brush against one inner thigh, then the other and knew a heavy chain dangled beneath me, attached to the stimsphere, pulling it slowly, inexorably down.

I was too wet, too aroused, to keep it within. My muscles quivered with the effort to hold it in place, my clit pulsed with the ache and need. But I didn’t want the stimsphere, I wanted him. Filling me. Stretching me open. Making me come. I opened up, loosened my hold on the sphere and it fell from me and onto the floor.

I gasped, feeling empty. “Please, I need… more.”

I didn’t even recognize my voice. It was deep and raspy as if I’d been screaming in pleasure. The way I felt, all aching need, I probably hadn’t come, but cried out from desperation instead.

This man, my mate, whoever he was, knew how to push me. And I loved it.

He tsked me as I felt his palm stroke over my tender bottom.

“This is more, gara. Any man could just f**k you, but I am your mate and I know what you need. You need my command, my authority over your body. Only then will you let go.”

His hand came down on my bare bottom with a loud crack and I cried out in shock. I knew this wasn't real, that I’d never been spanked before, but whatever this was, it hurt, but the pain quickly morphed into a fiery pleasure, merging with the already growing ball of hot, frantic need.

“First you will beg, gara. You will lose control. You will forget everything but me.” His hot breath fanned my neck just before he kissed me in the sweet spot right behind my ear. “Only then will I f**k you.”

“But…”

“This is what you want?” he breathed, as a finger swirled over my entrance.

Oh yes, that was exactly what I wanted. Just the gentlest swipe of that fingertip sent heat clear to my toes. My clit pulsed. “More,” I begged.

Pressing his body against mine, I felt every hot, hard inch of him along my back.

“This?” His finger slid inside me. Retreated. “You’re dripping for me.”

“Please.” I clenched my eyes closed, every muscle in my body taut, ready to come like I’d never before in my life.

I just needed a… little… bit… more. I needed him, hard and rough, pulling my hair and rutting into me like he’d never stop. A wildness rose inside me I did not recognize. A desperate, broken cry rose from my throat, the animalistic groan a sound I did not recognize.

“What do you want, gara?” He filled me with two fingers and I bit my lip to keep myself from ordering him to f**k me harder. Faster. Deeper. If I tried to hurry his pace, he would leave me dripping and empty until I begged. Cried. Gave him everything.

“You. Please.”

His hand retreated and I was empty once again. Wind roared through the top of the tent-like structure and I smelled dry air and leather, almond oil and sand. And my mate. His scent was wild and musky, his unique flavor on my tongue, as if I’d recently had his hard length in my mouth.

God, the thought made me burn. I wanted him. All of him. Everywhere.

I shook my head and sobbed, my hair a silky waterfall that shifted as it hung down over my face. I needed. There was no other word adequate to describe the state of my body. I needed.

Somewhere deep within, I knew this had been going on for quite some time. He’d teased me, tormented me with pleasure. But I was beyond the breaking point, cracking open and ready to beg, plead, cry… anything, if he’d just give me his hard…

“Is this what you want?” he said and I felt the hot, round head of his c**k align with my entrance.

“Yes.” The word exploded from me.

“Do you accept my claim, gara? Do you accept my protection and my devotion?”

What the hell was I supposed to say to that? There was only one word running like a chant through my mind, and this body I was in was only too eager to scream it.

“Yes!”

Footsteps. I heard footsteps coming from my right side. I turned my head to see a second pair of boots. Not my mate’s. Someone else was here…

“For the official records, have you ever been married, matched, or mated to another man?”

His question slowed my thoughts, cooled my ardor slightly. What, exactly, was going on here? “No.”

“Do you have any biological offspring?”

Biological…? “No.”

I tensed and tried to pull out of his hands as the booted stranger stepped closer. I could not see his face, but I knew he was here. Knew he could hear my pleas, my pleasure. And, from where he stood, could most likely see my open p***y.

I dropped my forehead to the table with a groan. God, why did that thought turn me on? Had I suddenly become some kind of freak? A pervert?

Before I could dwell on that thought, a gentle hand tangled in my hair at the base of my skull and tugged gently, lifting my head from the table. My back arched and my ass lifted toward his hard c**k.

“Good. I claim you as my mate.” He thrust forward, filling me in one slow, steady stroke.

The stranger behind me spoke, his voice rough and deep, but easily distinguished from my mate’s. “I’ll note the official records and alert the council.”

“Leave us,” my mate ordered, holding himself still deep inside me.

“But, you have not seeded her. Standard protocol dictates I witness—”

“Get out before I cut your c**k from your body and shove it down your throat.”

I shivered at my mate’s rough order. The boots hurried away and I felt a grin spread across my face. My mate was strong. Fierce. Feared. He would not share me.

God, that f*****g made me hot.

Riding the edge once more, I wiggled my hips, relieved when he pulled out, then pushed deep. Hard. His hand in my hair pulled my whole body back onto his thick c**k. In. Out. Hard. Fast. Rough. Just the way I wanted it. The wet, carnal sounds of f*****g filled the tent.

My mate released my hair and bent low, kissing me on the shoulder. His voice was ragged, his breath uneven as he spoke.

“And now, mate, you will know what it means to be mine.”

He moved his hand to where I could see a ring on his little finger. My p***y clenched in anticipation. I wondered why for half a second and he pressed the ring’s insignia with his thumb.

Vibration exploded in both my n*****s and my clit followed with a small shock, like a zinger of electric current.

A scream left my throat as I arched off the table, but my mate grabbed my hips and held me to him, thrusting deeply over and over until the only sound I heard was his body slamming into mine.

Holy s**t, it was some kind of remote for… what? Some kind of space vibrator. But on my n*****s and clit?

Over and over. My n*****s sent fire to my core and I exploded, coming so hard I feared I would pass out. My p***y pulsed and clenched around him and I lost control of my body, bucking and writhing like a wild animal as his huge hands held my hips, forced me to take more. My orgasm went on and on, until dizziness swamped me and I couldn’t remember where I was.

My mouth was so dry from screaming.

And then things did go black. Sensation faded, as if I were coming out of a dream, a dream I really, really f*****g wanted to get back to.

That was the best s*x of my life, and I wanted more.

In my experience, waking up always sucked.

“Miss Montgomery?” A stern, female voice called my name.

I shook my head, not wanting to answer. I wanted more of my mate, his hard c**k, that incredible orgasm. Holy s**t.

“Natalie!” The voice had increased in volume, and now sounded concerned. If I’d learned nothing during my long years of boarding school, I couldn’t make myself be rude. Good manners were hard-wired into my system by strict and sometimes ruthless teachers.

“I’m sorry. Yes?” My voice was raspy and weak, as if I’d not used it for days.

“Open your eyes, dear. I need to know you’re back here, on Earth, with me.”

Reluctantly, I forced my eyes open, the backs of my eyelids like sandpaper. It all rushed back to me. The cold, clinical white walls. The strange chair I was currently strapped into like a demented mental patient. The strange hospital style gown I wore with the Interstellar Brides Processing insignia all over it in a dark burgundy pattern like ugly-ass wallpaper. Even the serious eyes and solemn expression on the pretty brunette woman who was performing my testing. She didn’t look like she was much older than me, but the darkness behind her gaze told me she’d lived a hell of a lot more.

Time for me to do some of that thing called life. I was tired of being kept on the shelf like delicate china. I’d cooperated for twenty-four years, and look what that had gotten me. An Ivy League education, parents I never saw more than twice a year, and a fiancé so desperate for hot s*x he’d rather pay for it than sleep with me.

True, he’d never rattled my cage like the dream I’d just had, but he hadn’t tried all that hard either.

Getting him to eat me out took an act of Congress. He was much more a rut-into-me-like-a-pig-and-walk-away kind of guy. And I’d put up with that for the last eighteen months to try to please my parents. Seriously? What was wrong with me?

To make it even worse, the best s*x I’d ever had had been a dream. Although, if I was going to get more of that, if I accepted the match, then I was all for it.

“Miss Montgomery, are you with me?”

“Oh, sorry.” I blinked a few times and dismissed thoughts of Curtis Howard Hornsby III from my mind. Billionaire, silver-spoon, spineless, limp-dicked, cheating low-life. “Yes. I’m here, Warden. Sorry.”

“I understand. Take a moment to recover. I know the processing protocol can be intense.”

I flushed. “I didn’t scream too loudly, did I?”

She smiled, then looked away. “No, not too loudly,” she replied, but I didn’t believe her. The way I’d come apart in the dream, surely everyone in the processing center had heard me.

“Yeah, about that. Sorry, but it was… God.” I couldn’t even explain it.

“Yes, I understand.” The warden’s name was Egara. I remembered that now. But was that her first name? Or last? It was a weird name for a woman, but then, I’d heard rumors from some of the others being processed in the center the last few days that Warden Egara had been mated to not one, but two warriors from a planet called Prillon Prime. And they’d both died. She was a double widow.

Sad. It sounded so sad.

Warden Egara looked down at the tablet in her hand, one it seemed she always carried, and nodded briskly. “Excellent. You have a ninety-nine percent match.”

“I do?” Yes, that pathetically hopeful voice was mine. My mother would scowl at the unnecessary display of emotion. But screw her, screw my billionaire banker father and their decision to have a child simply to conform to societal expectations. I’d been raised by nannies and housemothers in boarding school. I’d learned to keep a stiff upper lip from the age of three, and I wasn’t even British.

As of today, my mother’s opinion no longer mattered. I needed to remember that. I was getting off this stupid planet. I was going to have a real life, with a man, an alien, mate, whatever, that was ninety-nine percent matched to me. I didn’t care what he was called, as long as he cared. For once in my life, I wanted someone to put me first.

That one simple characteristic wasn’t my ex-fiancé’s or my parents’ nature. Hell, their consistent lack of interest in their only daughter probably meant that they wouldn’t even realize I was gone until Christmas, which was four months away.

“Yes, Natalie. You’ve been matched to Trion.” The warden’s eyes warmed slightly, and I relaxed back into the examination chair. I felt like I was at the dentist, but I wasn’t going to bring that up. And I wasn’t getting a filling, I was getting a man. A mate. A life.

“Okay.” I didn’t know anything about the planet, and I didn’t care. Anywhere had to be better than Earth, because when my parents and Curtis paid attention, they noticed everything and dictated what I did, what I wore, who I socialized with.

I’d pulled up my big girl panties and rebelled a few times, but that had never worked. It was a new boarding school or a first-class ticket home from wherever I’d run to. Just last year, I’d gone on an Alaskan cruise and was met in Juneau by a Montgomery lackey to retrieve me. It had been a f*****g cruise, but that wasn’t allowed.

The only way to break free was to leave the planet, to go in a way that they couldn’t get me back. I glanced down at my left hand, at the oversized diamond engagement ring still on my finger. When I looked up, it was to see that Warden Egara had been watching me. “Can you take it off?”

With my wrists restrained, it wasn’t like I was going to do it. But I wasn’t going into space matched to an alien from Trion wearing Curtis’ ring. It was big and gorgeous and I didn’t want it. I wanted my matched spaceman. “Will you help? I can’t reach it.”

She nodded and walked to my side. She set the tablet next to my knee and carefully worked the ring from my finger. The moment it was off, I felt a bubbling, giddy sense of freedom. Was I really going to do this, leave everyone and everything?

Yes. Yes, I was. I wiggled my fingers and sighed. “Thank you.”

She held the ring and raised a brow. “What do you wish me to do with it?”

“I don’t care. Sell it. Keep the money. Give it away. Throw it in the trash. Whatever you want.”

“All right.” She slid the ring into her pocket and I worried she might actually throw it away.

“It’s worth well over thirty-thousand dollars. Don’t take a penny less.”

Nodding, she reached for the tablet again. She didn’t seem impressed by the ring and I liked her all the more for it. It seemed she wanted love over objects, just like me. The ring meant nothing because I meant nothing to Curtis. I settled back against the chair.

“For the record, Miss Montgomery, are you now, or have you ever been married?”

“No.” These were the same questions I’d been asked before, but I knew this was the last time. Now I had a mate. A match. A man who was supposed to be paired to my psychological profile perfectly. Knowing that my mate waited for me only made the questions seem much more real.

“Have you produced any biological offspring?”

“Hell, no.” And before today, I’d never wanted to. Curtis had never inspired me to want a child, and my own upbringing had left me cold. If I ever had a baby, I’d need to take mothering classes or something. I’d have to do all the things my mother never did, like learn all the little songs and games little ones played. The ABCs. I knew the ABCs.

Did they even have an alphabet on Trion? Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to find out. I bet it had its own special children’s song. I’d learn it right away, and sing it to my baby. Maybe even before it was born. They could hear in there, right? Maybe I’d sing both songs, English and Trion.

Wow. I wanted a baby. That was a new one. Had they given me something during testing to wake up my ovaries?

“Natalie?”

I blinked up at Warden Egara. “Yes.”

“I know it’s difficult, but try to stay with me. We’re almost done. Do you accept the results of the matching protocol?”

“Yes.” Oh, hell yes, gara accepted. I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Elation washed through me, hot and heady. I felt… happy. For once, I had something to be excited about, and I’d done it by myself, for myself. “Sorry, I’m kind of excited.”

The warden patted me on the shoulder and walked to the opposite side of the room, her form-fitting gray uniform reminded me of that sexy, alien character, Seven of Nine on Star Trek. Curtis had always pointed out how sexy that stupid, blonde actress looked in her sparkly, super-tight, silver spacesuit. She was a cyborg on the television show. How was a machine woman sexy? I didn’t get it, but Curtis drooled every time she came on the television screen, even if I was sitting right next to him on the couch.

Well, I had the last laugh. Curtis was stuck here, on Earth, paying his escorts to suck his d**k and living inside that bank eighty hours a week like a robot. I was the one going off on a sexy adventure in space.

God, I hoped my Trion mate was hot. Smoking hot. Drench-my-panties hot, just like the dream.

A bright blue light appeared in the wall to my left and the chair lurched sideways.

Startled, I looked up to see Warden Egara smiling at me. “Try to relax. All planets have specifications for their mates. All modifications for Trion will be made as part of your processing. When you wake up, you’ll be on Trion. You will no longer be a citizen of Earth. Your new mate will be waiting.”

I leaned back, ready for whatever insanity was about to happen. Actually, I was simply trying not to throw up.

I was leaving home. Forever. I’d read the handbook. I knew what I was getting into and knew I couldn’t come back. But thinking and doing were two separate things.

When the giant needle thing came at me, I flinched. When it stabbed me just behind my ear, near the temple, I tried to ignore the pain as the warden explained they were implanting neural processors to help me learn the Trion language.

Cool.

The chair lowered me into a warm, blue bath and a feeling of calm settled over me. I figured they were drugging me and I didn’t care. At least I wasn’t about to lose my cookies all over this glamorous hospital gown.

“Your processing will begin in three… two… one.” Warden Egara gave a little wave as the wall slid closed behind me.

And then…nothing.