Marauder Fenrir: Scifi Alien Invasion Romance (Mating Wars) (9 page)

I moan as his tongue finds my clit, which is swollen, sensitive and soaking. I buck my hips against him.

“It’s too sensitive,” I gasp.

He presses harder into it, and I twitch violently against him.

“It’s not ready yet,” he says.

And then his tongue enters my center, leaving my clit to recover.

His tongue fills my soaking wet channel, and just when I think it’s all the way in…it keeps going. It slithers up inside me, filling me entirely, wet and warm–and it’s fucking
long
.

“How the fuck–,” I start to say, but I moan as his tongue swells against my g-spot.

He can’t respond to me, obviously, not with his tongue angled so impossibly deep inside me.

He swirls it back and forth, and it laps up my wetness while rubbing blissfully against my sensitive insides.

He lets go of my ass with his right hand, and slides his finger over to my clit.

He fingers it ever so gently while his tongue continues filling me and pulsing within me. His finger rubs my clit in gentle circles, and I feel my wetness flooding out so much that he must surely feel it running down along his tongue.

I buck my hips against his tongue, urging him to finger my clit with more pressure.

He obeys my unspoken command, and then suddenly his tongue pulls all the way out, and his lips press against me. His tongue, soaked with my juices, presses firmly against my clit. I feel a gentle suction, which increases steadily as his tongue moves purposefully all over my most sensitive part.

I scream loudly and without abandon, and Fenrir has to grab tight hold of my waist to keep me from falling.

I start to tremble, and a strong orgasm starts to overtake me.

I feel my inner walls pulse, and a fresh shot of adrenaline floods through me. My heart races and I hold my breath as the overwhelming orgasm increases in intensity with each beat of my heart.

When it finally overwhelms and consumes me completely, I gasp for air, and then let out a moaning wail.

“Fenrir! Fuck! God! God!”

I scream, no longer able to get real words out. His tongue is moving faster and with greater precision than any human tongue could. He’s hitting my clit with just the right rhythm and the perfect amount of pressure. Two or three fingers slide up inside me, and I clench my inner walls against them.

My inner walls squeeze as I continue to come. I cry out, his fingers moving rapidly in and out of me, matching the frantic rhythm of his tongue pounding against my clit.

My whole body trembles and clenches up. My legs go weak, and Fenrir’s strong arms are the only thing that keep me from sliding down against the window and falling to the ground.

I look down and see my white-hot juices dripping down his fingers, all the way down to his palms.

He pulls his fingers out, and with this next orgasm, I come so hard I squirt. He moves down and slides his tongue back into me, and greedily drinking my orgasmic juices.

When I finally stop gushing, he pulls his tongue out of me and carries me to the bed, holding me tenderly in his strong arms.

I’m breathless and my heart is slamming into my chest. I’m wetter than I’ve ever been, and exhausted as I am, I still want more of Fenrir.

“Is it true, what Aegus’s message to us said? Human women can come more than once per cycle?”

“Of course,” I say, laughing weakly with exhaustion. “How ridiculous and awful would it be if I could only come once per month!”

Fenrir pulls his ears back and looks seriously at me. “You take for granted the gifts given to you…”

“Sorry, Fenrir,” I say. “I didn’t mean to make a joke of it...it’s just…”

“Enough talk,” he says, silencing me.

He grabs me and flips me over onto my stomach, and then he pulls me up onto my knees. I hold my upper body up with my arms, but Fenrir pulls my arms out from under me.

“No,” he says, pushing my upper body flat and pulling my ass further up. “Like this.”

I smile, but he can’t see my face. And even if he could, I’m sure he’d be looking elsewhere anyway.

I feel incredible warmth–and wetness–slide against my pussy lips. I gasp as the vibration of his enlarged cock hits me with full force.

“Do
all
of your cocks vibrate?” I ask.

“What woman would want a cock that doesn’t?” he asks.

“And you take your gifts for granted too…” I say.

He presses his shaft onto my clit, and rubs slowly back and forth against it. I twitch involuntarily, and I feel intense pressure building up within me.

“Fenrir,” I say. “No...I can come more than once per month, but I’ll pass out if I come too much. I want you inside me.”

He slaps his hard cock against my wet lips, and I shudder.

“Excellent,” he says. “We’re of one mind...and soon of one body.”

“That’s some poetic dirty talk.”

“Dirty talk?” he asks.

“Like…” she says, “I want to fuck you like an animal. That’s dirty talk.”

“I see,” he says. “How did you know about my bear form?”

“Bear form?” I ask.

“Never mind,” he says, stroking his hand through my hair.

He reaches down across the nape of my neck, then to my shoulders, and finally he cups my breast in his hand. His cock is still vibrating against me, but he’s relieved some of the pressure so that I won’t come...at least not yet.

He’s huge, and I’ve never had a dick even close to his girth inside me. I feel a thrill just thinking about it, but I’m also scared.

“Don’t worry, Fiona,” he says. “I will never hurt you.”

“Did you just...you just called me Fiona.”

I turn to look at him, but he slams his thick, long cock inside me, nearly splitting me wide open.

I cry out, and my head plunges back into the pillow. I gasp for air, but he doesn’t press further in. The head of his dick is wet and warm inside me, and I can even feel it swelling and pulsing.

“Jesus,” I say.

“Fenrir,” he says.

“What?”

“I am Fenrir.”

I snort, and he slides deeper in, silencing me once again.

His veins are so thick and bulging that I can feel them pressing against my inner walls, and we’re both dripping wet, so despite his incredible girth and thickness, he slides right in. But fuck, it’s a tight fit all the same. And the vibration is incredible...even though he’s waiting and not pushing deeper, the sensation is constant. The low hum of his cock as it vibrates is constantly stimulating me even when we’re both perfectly still.

“Can human males do this?” he asks.

Suddenly I feel his dick growing inside me, even though the rest of his body remains still. It’s stretches me even wider, until I worry I might burst.

“Fuck, careful!” I shout.

“I only expanded a few millimeters,” he says. “Human women–or at least you–are too tight for anything more.”

I laugh again. “Are there women out there for whom you need to expand that much?”

“It is written in our histories,” he says. “Though fortunately you are already a perfect fit.”

“Fuck me,” I say.

I’m so wet around him, and his vibrating teal monster cock feels so damn good inside me. I’m no longer afraid of his size, and I yearn to feel his full power thrusting into me.

He presses in, and I feel him slide deeper and deeper into me, until his balls–which are slightly cooler than his burning hot furnace of a dick–push up against my body.

“I can’t believe I took the whole thing,” I gasp.

“A perfect fit,” he mumbles, seemingly to himself.

And then he begins pulling back out, and with each inch he withdraws, I anxiously anticipate his re-entry. I finally feel the ridge of his glans sliding across my entrance, but then he bucks his hips and slams back into me, pounding me until he reaches my center.

His balls slap hard against my skin, and I cry out in a perfect fusion of pain and ecstasy..

Before I can recover or adapt, he slams into me again–and again and again.

The wet slapping sound of Fenrir fucking me fills the whole room, and as our tram lowers slowly down toward Mars, Fenrir and I rise together toward orgasm.

I’m dripping come all over the bed as he continues ramming into me, and suddenly he shoves me down flat and covers me with his body. I can feel his hard abs pressing onto my back, glistening with sweat. He drives his cock down into me, deeper than ever, and from this new angle his vibrations and the ridge of his head hit my g-spot with each thrust. Any moment now I will pass the threshold and it will be impossible not to come.

He presses deep into me and just...vibrates. He bites my ear and nips and licks my neck as the vibrations keep me just on the edge of orgasm. I wonder if he really knew how close I was to coming, and if he stopped just short of it to prolong this moment.

“God, Fenrir,” I say. “How did you…”

“You should always listen closely to a woman’s body,” he says.

“But just not to the woman herself?”

He grunts, and starts thrusting once again.

I guess I pissed him off.

An icy hot chill fills my heart, and then surges up and down my body. My channel walls clench hard against his cock as it keeps sliding in and out of me, and I feel growing wetness beneath me. I must be coming so hard that I’m dripping down onto the sheets.

The clenching pulses along his dick, and he fucks me harder and faster. His hips slam hard against my ass with each impact, and my own hips begin to buck wildly against him. My body moves of its own will, craving that hard teal Marauder cock.

Fenrir’s vibrations intensify as I start to come. I feel insane pressure within myself, and I realize I must be squirting again, but Fenrir makes his cock swell inside me, creating a seal.

“Fenrir!” I shout through thick moans. “Please! I need to come.”

“Beg for it,” he says.

“Please, God!”

He’s laughing above me, and each time he pushes into me, the pressure increases. I need to release.

“Please, please, please!” I plead.

“Good enough,” he says, and his cock shrinks just enough, and then I feel it pulse, and Fenrir’s own come shoots into me.

I feel my own white-hot come explode out, surging across his cock. He moans loudly as I come, squirting all over him, and I feel a thick puddle of wetness pooling beneath me.

When I finally stop squirting, I realize that Fenrir is
still
coming. Every second his cock twitches, and a new thick load fills me up. He must have shot at least ten loads into me already, each as big as the first.

He grunts as my orgasm begins to die down, and still he keeps pumping me full of Marauder seed. Only when I fully collapse and fall limp does he pull out. I feel a thick load blast across my ass and back, and finally he falls down beside me.

“Fiona,” he says, rolling onto his back and pulling me up against him.

I want to say his name back...but my body is spent and my eyelids are heavy. I know I won’t wake up until we’re on the Martian surface.

E
verything has changed
. I am still burdened by my shame debt, yet I begin to wonder if there is another way.

Could our endless invasions of other star systems, and endless interbreeding and evolution, be our final purpose? What point is there in constantly becoming stronger if not to...do something with it? To settle down?

Is it not a sign? The Seraphic Form is real and not just an ideal, and given that truth, what is more logical? That it’s a test made to tempt us into ruin, or that it’s the one thing we’ve always been striving toward?

Aegus was right, and I’ve chosen the wrong side.

But I can undo that.

I owe shame debt to my fallen comrade, Zarek, but he was
wrong
. Stopping Aegus was wrong. Even if he was wrong, I loved him like a brother.

I look over at Fiona, my mate. She’s in the deep blanket of post-orgasmic slumber. She embodies the Seraphic Form, and even after I said I wanted to destroy her race...she still had patience and saw the potential in me. To clear my shame debt, I must protect her above all else. I must help Aegus and his brother Cygnus. I must protect humanity.

* * *

W
hen our tram
is ten minutes from reaching the surface, and the red Martian horizon is high in the salmon-colored sky, a voice wakes Fiona.

“Ten minutes until disembarking! Please gather your belongings! Neuvo Quito is fully insulated and pressurized, so feel free to leave your masks and surface clothes in your suitcases. Welcome to Mars!”

Fiona sits up, and I stare at her breasts. I begin to wonder if ten minutes would be long enough to fuck her once again...but I dismiss the idea, as she will need her energy once we are on Mars.

“What’s this about masks?” I ask.

“Nuevo Quito is a modern equatorial city,” Fiona says. “One of the first Martian settlements. The air is good, and there’s never been so much as a minor leak in decades. You’re going to have to wear your mask, though, and cover yourself...it will draw a lot of attention, but it beats walking around as a Marauder.”

“Oh,” I say. “This is why I asked for all the delicious food on New Copenhagen.”

I will my biosuit to disguise me, and it melts across my skin as a transparent film, only a few micrometers thick.

When it’s fully encased me, it begins to fill with pigment, and soon I see my arm is entirely human-colored.

Fiona gasps. “You’re like...a really tall human guy with elf ears.”

“Yes,” I say. “I will need a hat.”

* * *

W
e exit
the tram and find ourselves in a great domed city. The beanie I’m wearing presses my ears uncomfortably down onto my head, and I keep fidgeting with it.

Fiona pulls it up so that my ears can point and move. “A lot of people wear them like this; it’s not a skull cap.”

I don’t know what a skull cap is, but I’m happy to have my ears less restrained.

The city has many tall buildings, and it’s much more densely populated than New Copenhagen. Rather than seeing the other side of the city in the sky, there’s just a large dome above everything. The city is so packed that buildings on the edge of the dome curve inward to conform to the dome’s shape.

We’re in the combination space elevator and train terminal. It’s elevated above the surface, and the walls are glass, giving a full view of Nuevo Quito. Fiona explained earlier that the trains only reach the other equatorial cities, which are heavily dependent on trade with the orbitals. The polar cities are much more sparsely populated, and also self-sufficient. They rely largely on polar ice rather than outside trade. Cygnus reigns there.

“It’s crowded,” I say.

As if to prove my point, people jostle and shove past us, all rushing to space elevator trams and equatorial trains.

I grab Fiona’s hand, for fear she could somehow be separated from me.

“Come on,” she urges. “We need to get a buggy.”

“A what?” I ask.

“A vehicle with four wheels,” she says. “We’ve got a good chunk of money, and we’ll need to spend a lot of it for a long-haul vehicle.”

“I see,” I say.

I expect the horrible crowds to die down when we leave the station, but walking out onto the streets, I realize it’s just as crowded everywhere. My wide shoulders and size help me shove people easily out of my way, but this also means I’m forced to shove much more often. Fortunately, I can shove people before they bump into Fiona. I’m leery of thieves and pickpockets.

As we reach the main street, incredible smells fill my nose.

“Fiona,” I say. “Can we afford this food?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I’m hungry too. What do you want?”

“What is there?” I ask.

She looks around at the numerous roadside food stalls. “Well...there’s not very good meat here. It’s too crowded for that, but do you like noodles?”

“I’ve eaten only what you’ve seen me eat,” I say. “What are noodles?”

“You’ll like them,” she says. “Come on! Over here.”

She pulls me toward a stall, and I look as the woman behind the counter takes a huge iron wok and sets it onto an open flame.

“Mushrooms?” she grunts to the customer in front of us.

The customer nods, and she grabs a handful of strange fungi from a bin. She takes a knife and attacks the fungi like a skilled warrior, slicing it into uniform pieces. She throws the pieces into the wok and splashes them with a black liquid. I hear it start sizzling immediately, and then she chops up a long, green vegetable. The smell of the fungi hits me, and I shove the customer out of my way to lean in closer.

I sniff. “I also want mash rooms!”

“Wait your turn, asshole,” the man says.

Fiona pulls me back. “Sorry,” she says. She gives me a pissed off look, scowling at me.

When it’s finally our turn, I ask for the mash rooms, the green long vegetable, and I order the cooking woman to show me more of the available choices.

“I will have the meat sticks, as well as the bird egg–that is a bird’s egg, yes? –the red thing with the stem, and the white thing with the powerful smell.”

The cooking woman gives me a strange look, but throws everything I ask for onto her cutting board. She slices and dices, then tosses it all into the wok.

“And you?” she asks Fiona.

“Same as him, but no onions for me.”

I grab my bowl of noodles, and I’m so hungry I dig right in.

I grab a handful of the long strips in my hand, and then I tear off a piece of the fried egg and place it into the center of the noodles in my palm. I add in some onion and one whole mash room. I wrap the vegetables up with the noodles, and then squeeze it into a bite-sized clump. I put the whole thing into my mouth and chew. The mash room juices and the salty sauce dances on my taste buds, and then the fatty taste of the egg joins the flavor explosion. As I chew, the strong onion smell fills my nose, and the onion gives a satisfying crunch to the mixture.

Before I finish chewing, I begin to prepare another ball of noodles, this time wrapping them around one of the meat sticks. My hands are covered in the black sauce, oil, and fat from the egg. I’ll have to lick it all off when I’m finished eating.

I look up and see Fiona laughing at me.

I swallow my first bite of noodles and arch my eyebrows at her. My ears are twitching beneath the beanie, but she can’t see the full extent of my confusion.

“Here,” she says, handing me two little wooden sticks.

I sniff them, but they seem inedible.

“You eat with them,” she says, demonstrating. “See?”

She takes another pair of wooden sticks from the counter, and holds them in her right hand. I watch as she somehow grasps the noodles and pieces of vegetables with the tiny sticks, then raises them to her mouth.

“No,” I say. “I eat this my way.”

I toss the meat stick balled with noodles into my mouth, and savor the taste.

* * *

T
hree bowls of noodles later
, Fiona and I begin shopping for a buggy.

We find a high-rise that sells buggies on the first five floors–they are visible from the windows. Some are small and open to the elements, while others are quite large and seem capable of remaining fully pressurized and climate-controlled.

Just before we go inside, Fiona turns to me and says, “Can you wait here?”

“I need to get us a good deal,” I say.

“These buggy salesmen are scum,” she says, “and they assume women don’t know anything about buggies.”

“So you need me helping you.”

“Do you know anything about buggies?” I ask.

I narrow my eyes at her.

“That means no,” she says. “I’ve researched the prices on these things, and I think I can use my...feminine charms...to get us the best deal. If they see that I’m already with a hot guy, that method will be less effective.”

“So I will stand outside uselessly, while you take charge like a man should?”

“No…” she says. “Look, if my plan doesn’t work, then you can go in after me and use your...Marauder charms to try to brute force a good deal. Sound good?”

“I look forward to proving you wrong,” I say. “Try your best.”

She rolls her eyes at me and goes inside.

I stand outside and keep my eyes open. I watch the people passing by, and I realize that there are some habbers here. I can identify them by their height and facial features. Everyone must think that I’m a habber as well, I realize. I’ll need to play that role to sell my disguise. Not knowing the proper names of the food I order can hurt my ability to pass for a habber. I will need to learn all of the correct words, and I will have to rely even more on Fiona to educate me.

I don’t like the idea of relying on a woman, but to properly protect her, I must rely on her help as well. We have to reach Cygnus and convince him to meet with the habbers, and if I blow my cover, it will be incredibly difficult to discreetly reach the polar settlements.

The crowds part around me, as I refuse to move out of the way or to make myself small. Though everyone is shoving and jostling each other, they make space for me. Even disguised as a human, because of my size, no one wants to risk angering me.

I look back up at the building, seeing if I can spot Fiona through the windows, but I cannot.

And then someone shoves me.

I spin around, ready to shove them back, except much harder.

And I’m met with a familiar face–though white-skinned rather than purple. It’s my fellow assassin, Minos.

“Fenrir,” he says. “I finally caught up to you.”

“Minos…,” I say, alarm bells ringing in my head. I need to get him away from Fiona.

To get him away, I need to pretend I’m glad to see him.

We grab each other’s’ forearms and flex–the Marauder handshake–and nod to each other. He’s wearing a hat similar to mine, and even the way he moves seems human to me.

“You’ve been here longer than I have,” I say.

“Yes,” he says. “Six months already.”

Does that mean he’s completed his mission?

“You found Aegus?” I ask.

He scowls, a fully human scowl. I don’t even need to see his ears to make out his disappointment and shame.