Claimed by the Alien Prince: Alpha Alien Romance (Alpha Aliens of Fremm Book 1) Read online

  Claimed by the Alien Prince

  Alpha Aliens of Fremm 1

  Nancey Cummings

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  What’s Next?

  Bonus Book: Prisoner of Pan’s Desire: Part One

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  About the Author

  Additional Titles

  Copyright Notice

  Chapter One

  Evie

  Maybe I should have experimented more in college. Everyone has a Blue Boy at one point. The Fremm, tall, blue warrior aliens, were a box every girl needed to check off the Youthful Indiscretion list, like a girl on girl kiss or recreational drug use. Everyone did it.

  Everyone but me.

  If I had, I wouldn't be standing here like a slack jawed idiot, staring at the most gorgeous creature in the universe. The large sky blue man was of unknown importance but he had to be wealthy to afford the chef’s table at this restaurant. Suddenly nervous, I ran my hands down the front of my clean, white chef’s coat. I’m well versed in many xeno cuisines, but my knees trembled as if I was just out of culinary school. What was it about that strong jaw, expressive face; skin the color of a cloudless, perfect summer day that unnerved me? His eyes were a dark navy, bright and intelligent. His hair was a darker navy, pulled back in a formal knot. The markings on his arm glowed in a banded patterned, showing that he was with friends. His broad shoulders took up the space at the head of the table, sitting like a mountain of hard muscle.

  I had an overwhelming urge to climb that mountain.

  The gorgeous man turned to his companion and said something urgent in his sharp, native language. He seemed unhappy. The man to his left, also big and a vivid shade of azure, shook his head and waved dismissively in my direction.

  Clearly talking about me.

  The big blue man slammed his hand on the table, the percussive sound making me jump, and he pointed a finger at me.

  Yup, talking about me.

  “I thought you would be Fremm,” his tone an accusation.

  Typical Fremm arrogance.

  “I thought you would know better than to insult the woman who will prepare your food,” I replied without thinking.

  Irritation burned on his brow but his companions broke into laughter. His dark eyes were electric and held my gaze, unable to look away. There was a spark of recognition in them, as if I finally found something so important that I didn’t realize was missing. My heart raced, just standing here before him was a thrilling act of defiance. More than that, I wanted to run my hands over those rippling muscles, dig my fingers into that dark navy hair and run my tongue over inch of his summer sky flesh.

  Maybe he could read my mind. Maybe my attraction was obvious. Mr. Big Blue smirked. “Very well,” he said. “Impress me, human woman.”

  Not to brag, but I’m going to knock the socks of that gorgeous, arrogant man. The thing about Fremm cuisine is that the flavor profile is very strong, filled with sharp vinegar notes and nothing subtle. Many human cooks shy away from making the base acidic enough and stay on the boring side of cautious. There is nothing subtle or cautious about the Fremm, at least according to the all the films I’ve seen. They seek the glory found only in battle and honorable combat, which is followed with food and drink. The Fremm afterlife is one never ending feast to celebrate an honorable life and an honorable death: the blood of battle echoed in the blood of the feast.

  Fortunately, I worked my way through college at a cafe run by a genuine Fremm grandmother. Weak sauces and gutless food earned a slap to the back of the head. My proudest day was when Grannie Frem declared my fish pastry to be almost as good as hers.

  “What are we making?” my sous chef and friend, Jaimie, asked. Chaotic and unpredictable, she executed my wildest ideas and made my kitchen work. Currently a smear of butter glistened on her chin.

  Good question. Instinct said to go for something complicated but simple cuisine was truly more difficult to do well. “It’s nearly Christmas,” I said. “Let’s do the Feast of the Seven Fishes.” I was going to drown the arrogant blue man with fish.

  I wrote the meal plan on the whiteboard and instructed my staff. The meal would start complex and each dish get progressively simpler.

  Starter would be a Fremm fish stew, one the kitchen kept on ready but superb. Second course was a pickled fish salad I made a month ago and had fermenting in the cooler. A chopped Sild in a cream sauce served on pieces of crisp bread for the third course. Fourth was my fish pastry, the flaky puffs served on a platter with the fishes’ own heads. Fremm always got a kick out of that.

  Fifth was a larger Skrubbe with a tender, delicate flesh placed inside the body of an inedible mud fished, stuffed with citrus. I gutted the mud fish, placed the edibles inside, and carefully sewed it back up with string. The diners must tear through the mudfish to get at their meal.

  Sixth was a massive predatory fish, much like an Earth shark, filleted and served raw, like sashimi, with various sauces, each more tart and astringent than the other. Cooking turned the delicate flesh bitter.

  Seventh was desert. Since the Fremm had no actual concept of sweet, I made a simple salad with tomatoes, slices onions and cucumbers topped with a sweet balsamic vinegar and anchovies.

  Earth food for dessert. Let Mr. Blue choke on that.

  I kept my face stoic as staff served each course, my arms tucked behind my back. The companions exclaimed in delight, tearing into the feast with gluttonous abandon. Mr. Big Blue watched me while he ate. His possessive gaze appraised me like a piece of meat. I have to say, it wasn’t all that bad a sensation. I shivered under the ferocity of his gaze. At several points, he stood, as if he would toss me over his shoulder and carry me away, but his companions would lay a hand on his shoulder and he sat back down.

  “You surprise me, woman,” Mr. Big Blue said, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

  “Evie,” I said. I stood near the table, hands clasped behind my back. “My name is Evie.”

  His dark eyes sparkled. “Aster,” he said. The way his gaze swept over me, he either wanted to tear the clothes from my body or strangle me. I sincerely hoped for the former. “Let me buy you a drink,” he said.

  I nodded. “It is the least you can do for calling me bloodless. My shift ends in thirty minutes.”

  Chapter Two

  Evie

  His eyebrows rose in surprise. Really, why so surprised? Most people have a passing knowledge of Fremm from pop culture. Granted, I did watch a lot of Fremm soap operas in school, but I was far from an expert.

  A perk of living and working at a space station was the twenty four hours continuous operations. Nothing ever closed. The station was just off a moon of Jupiter, with the red giant lurking out of every window. It was the last station before deep space, or the first before hitting the inner worlds, depending on your journey.

  Aster took me and his two companions to a wine bar, the kind normally out of range of my salary. Well, I knew he had money. I was more than willing to let him spend it on me. He ordered a bottle with a name I did not recognize.

  “Tell me how you learned to cook Fremmian,” Aster said, when the bottle arrived. He p
oured me a glass of a deep red liquid. An amazing aroma drifted up from the glass, like autumn, apples and a hint of frost. The taste met expectations with a kick that burned its way down my throat. I tried not to make a face as I swallowed.

  Aster laughed. “Not many humans can down lekakasa. I’m impressed.”

  At least I knew he was being honest. Fremms had a reputation for honesty to the point of brutal bluntness. It was the greatest sign of respect to speak your mind. Only if you had no regard for another would you not tell them the truth, let them believe a misconception. I said, “I worked at a Fremm restaurant in school.”

  “That seems unusual.”

  A human scurrying among the blue giants, yes, a little. I shrugged. “I needed a job and I worked the shifts no one wanted. I started serving, then chopping veg, and eventually I was a line cook.” I neglected to mention that batch after batch that was thrown away as “unfit for dogs” and “weak, only good for the bloodless” before I got the knack.

  “Why are you at Callisto?” I asked, turning the subject from me to the handsome man.

  “Profit,” Aster said, a mischievous gleam in his eye, “and experience.” The look he gave me could melt panties and spoke to exactly the type of experience he wanted. Maybe he never enjoyed an Earth girl before and needed to get it out of his system, too. The air between us positively crackled with electricity.

  “Why are you on Callisto?” he asked.

  “Variety,” I said simply. Let him chew on that.

  He downed another glass, his cheeks glowed faintly. Aster said something in Fremm to the men at his side. I picked up a few words at the cafe but they spoke too quickly and with an accent I didn’t recognize. Aster sounded far more sophisticated than the farmers turned cooks I knew. I caught “kompli” and “Hvilmarja”, whatever that was.

  The men didn’t look happy but they left.

  “They don’t trust me with you?” I asked.

  Aster smoothed the stray hair from his face. As the evening progressed, he was becoming more undone. I liked it. It was a casual gesture, one made between people who are comfortable with each other. “They think me headstrong and foolish but are too timid to say so to my face.”

  “And if they did?”

  “I am the captain,” he said, “and their superior. Tough shit, I believe you say on Earth.”

  I laughed. “Have you been to Earth?”

  “Once, when I was young. My father was there for business. I developed a fondness for chocolate and caramel,” he said with a toothy smile.

  I blushed, glancing down at my hands. I never felt so exposed in my caramel complexion, like I was about to be devoured. My heart thrilled at the sensation.

  Maybe it was the strong Fremmian wine, the gorgeous blue man’s smile or the way the muscles of his shoulders rippled under his shirt, but I said, “Come back to mine and I’ll make you a hot chocolate you won’t forget.”

  That’s how we ended up outside my apartment with the gigantic man pressing me against the door. “I will claim what I desire,” he said, voice a growl in my ear. I fumbled to press my hand against the sensor pad to open the door.

  People passing by in the hall were staring. Let them.

  His arms wrapped around my waist and his large hands pushed up my shirt. In his arms, I felt tiny. I was a tall woman and more than enough curves to get the job done, but I was not small. But in his arms, I felt delicate. I really liked it.

  The door finally opened. “It’s not much,” I said, dumping my bag at the entrance, “but its home.” My apartment was a studio with more than enough space for one person. The big feature was the gigantic viewing wall. I paid extra to have a non-planet side view. The bulk of Jupiter was behind us and the view was the endless expanse of velvety black and stars. My bed pressed right against the wall. It was like sleeping among the stars.

  “It is suitable,” Aster said with classic Fremm tactfulness. “But I am not here to admire your domicile.”

  No, I don’t suppose he was.

  Aster picked me up easily and brought me to the bed. In a rush, we tugged off clothes and tossed them to the floor. I pulled at the band holding back his hair, letting it spill across his shoulders. I twisted my caramel fingers in the dark navy hair, giving it a satisfying tug.

  He was gorgeous. I scrabbled backwards across the bed, to get a good look at my blue man. He stood with his hands on his hips, slightly darker cock thick and erect.

  Aster’s cock was enormous.

  I gulped instinctively. How was all of that going to fit inside of me?

  Aster lowered himself to the bed, lying next to me. His hands traveled the length of my body, caressing every curve. I did the same, admiring the firmness of his arms, the hard pecks on his chest and marveling at the bioluminescence. Aster glowed where we touched. My fingertips, my kisses, my caresses reflected back with a warm silver glow on his skin. This was remarkable.

  “You are my kompli, my mate,” Aster said. “I will claim what is mine.” He took my breasts into his mouth, sucking forcibly with teeth grazing my nipples. Wet and hot, his tongue seared a wide path across the underside of my breast.

  My back arched, dazed by pleasure before returning to myself. He was making it hard to think. “What do you mean mate?” I asked.

  “You are mine,” Aster said. “I am yours.” His tongue licked the length of my neck, making me forget his words. With ease, he lifted me and pressed my back against the window. My form was under his sky blue body and my back was to space. Another bite on my nipple and the pressure on my wrists increased. The chilled surface of the window pressed against my skin in wonderful sensation.

  One hand went to my slick folds, rubbing me without mercy, applying pressure to my sensitive nub. “You are so wet, kompli,” he said. A finger went in. My hips rocked, riding his hand.

  The pain of my desire was a literal ache. I needed his cock now. So what if he said “kompli?” Maybe it’s a Fremm turn of phrase for “girl I’m going fuck so hard she can’t walk in the morning.” God, I hoped so. I was so turned on, my pussy throbbed and yearned to be filled, pounded and abused.

  I had a feeling Aster could satisfy those cravings.

  “So stop talking about it and claim me,” I said. “I need you now, Aster.”

  Aster growled in response, a happy purr in his throat. He pushed a knee between my thighs and lifted my hips, pulling me towards him. His large hands held my form suspended against the window without a problem. He was in me suddenly and roughly. I exhaled in surprise from the pressure of so much inside me. He felt like a monster, filling and stretching me to capacity.

  A little starlight came through the window, and the glow of the lights of the stations, casting his face in a soft light. His shoulders where my arms wrapped around him, clinging to his back, his abdomen pressed against me, where our skin made contact, burned like the sun.

  I glowed with Aster.

  Every stroke back was slow and the push forward was hard. My breasts jiggled from the force, back arching. I tried to brace myself against the bed, toes digging into the mattress. I tilted my head back and moaned. This blue man was a machine; relentless and only going forward.

  My cunt wrapped tightly around him. I wanted to be fucked and this pounding was merciless; it was wonderful. My toes curled and then the sudden stab of pain from a foot cramp. Damn fragility of the flesh.

  Aster paused. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” I said. “Foot cramp.” Aster grunted and lowered himself to the bed, never dropping me and never letting his cock leave me. He held me on top of him.

  On top, the glow from our contact was blinding.

  “Are you going to sit there all day?” he asked.

  “Admiring the view,” I said. I lifted myself and slid my inner fold along the length of his shaft, dragging slick skin along his rock hard member. I paused in the journey to let the head probe my entrance; just enough to savor the way soft skin gave way to the rigid, engorged head. Every fiber of my
being wanted to impale myself on that mighty cock and ride off into the stars, but I held back, savoring the sensation.

  “What are you doing, woman?” Aster asked, voice a growl. Frustrated and driven by desire, his fingers dug into the soft flesh of my hips.

  I leaned forward to kiss him. Hungry and possessive, like a glutton at a feast, his mouth reached for mine. My pussy clench in excitement. Everything this blue man did set me aflame.

  This time when I moved against his shaft, he lifted his hips and pushed into my ready and slick tunnel. No lingering at the entrance. I did not pull away but met his thrust with enthusiasm.

  I rocked forward. He was in me so deeply. His hands were on my thighs. They were huge. No wonder he could pin me to the window with ease. I lifted and lowered myself back onto his cock. The first convulsions of an orgasm welled deep inside. This man with the possessive stare was making me come.

  I locked eyes with Aster. I wanted him to see how he satisfied me. I rocked faster, lowering myself on his cock forcefully, my ass slapping against him as I took the entire length. I tilted my hips just enough for his massive cock to hit the perfect spot inside. Suddenly my skin tingled and burned. My hips jerked uncontrollably as I lost control. A cry escaped, louder than I intended but I was beyond caring.

  Aster’s fingers dug into my hips, trying to coax me into movement but I would not budge until the last of the quaking left me. I raised my arms over my head and gave Aster the best view of my breasts. He seemed less than impressed. This was a man of action, unsatisfied with letting me control the pace.

  “Aster,” I moaned. “I want you to bend me over and fuck me hard.”

  He lifted me off his cock. I gasped; amazed that he could pick me up like I was nothing. I knelt on the bed, facing the window. Our reflections transposed over the starry expanse beyond the window.

  A thick finger parted the swollen lips of my sex and then Aster filled me again with an uncomfortable amount of pressure. I exhaled slowly, willing muscles to relax. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of my hips, hard enough to leave a bruise tomorrow. Fully seated, he stroked into me.