Slag: Book Four in the Galaxy Pirates Alien Abduction Romance Series (Shifter) by Alana Khan (i like reading books .TXT) 📗

Pulling out, I turn her over, pulling her hips up to get her on all fours, then allow my spirit animals closer.

Wild passion surges through me. I feel almost animalistic. Keeping my eyes open, I pay attention for any hints that I’m shifting. If my vision loses color, I’ll need to move away, to avoid hurting my mate.

But my eyesight doesn’t change, just the level of my passion. I pump into her, fast and furious now. Bending my head to her shoulder, I nip her, not wild like a stallion or dragon, but soft nips that heighten her pleasure.

Finding an angle that makes her press back hard to meet me, I keep pounding.

“Right. There,” she moans as she dips her head low, thrusts her ass against me, and then releases in deep, rolling, clenching spasms as she screams her pleasure into the countryside.

Throwing my head back in ecstasy I fill her with my seed, then roll onto the grass next to her and pull her to me.

My stallion’s close, trying to peep out to catch a better look at her. My dragon is lurking closer than I’ve felt him in annums. They’ve been dead for so long—now they’re reanimated and revitalized.

I can sense it in their spirits. They love her. She is our mate. I’ve shifted into dozens of creatures in my lifetime but there are really only the three of us—Ozias the stallion, Dranii the dragon, and me, the az’rah. As an az’rah I can shift into anything, but those animals don’t reside inside me. The three of us who live inside all love her. It’s a powerful feeling.

“Mate,” I say with pride.

“Mate,” she says as she rolls toward me and slides a finger down my cheek. I scan her face for regrets—I don’t see any.

“My animals are closer, Love. Someday I hope to give you a ride on my dragon, Dranii. Would you like that?” I never dreamed of doing this back on To’mah with a mate of my race. Only KJ.

“Yes.”

“You would trust me to fly with you?” This thought honors me.

“I’ve trusted you with my life in many ways already, mate. Of course.”

She likes to call me mate. This pleases me.

“It’s been a long day. I want to get you back to the house,” I tell her, wanting her safe before nightfall.

“We’re sleeping in the barn, Love.”

“I’m sleeping in the barn. You’re sleeping in the house.”

“You’re amusing when you try to boss me around. Let’s get it clear, though, that will never work.”

I rise, help her to her feet and swat her pretty ass. When she’s dressed, we head toward the cabin.

My stallion pushes to the surface and I don’t resist as I shift and stand proudly in front of our mate, tossing my mane. Kneeling to allow her to straddle my broad back, I rise and race to the cabin with her laughing in delight.

Chapter Nine

KJ

“Come and get it,” I call to A’Zul as I push the cabin door open with my hip, bringing a tray of food to the table we set up on the little covered porch.

The ship left us with a ton of food, and Destin gave me a short tutorial on how to use the space-age appliances in the cabin’s kitchen. All it needs to feel like an episode of the Jetsons is Astro and that ridiculous treadmill.

A’Zul and I agreed he’s not to go inside the cabin for any reason. He still has tenuous control over his shifting, and if he turns into a dragon the cabin could easily be shredded.

“I wish I could help you cook,” he says as he helps me carry the food from the door to the table.

“I thought you said that was women’s work on your planet.”

“We’re not on my planet. I want to help my mate.” He gives me an open, loving smile, his eyes glowing chartreuse.

“You’re a good male,” I say as my insides are running the 20-yard dash, doing jumping jacks, and shaking their pom-poms. I still can’t get over the fact that I’m mated to my best friend.

“I want to pull my weight. You told me about a previous male-friend. You called him a ‘narcissistic slacker’ as I recall. My translator may not have gotten it right, but I’m certain I don’t want to be one of those.”

“Good decision, big guy.”

“You said you had a, what did you call it? A job on your home planet. Tell me about it.”

How do I explain why my planet even needs 911 for domestic violence calls and rapes and murders to a male whose planet has none of that? I’ll try.

“We have different types of comm devices on Earth. One of the systems is called 911. People comm in when they have a problem like an accident or a fire, then the person who receives the comm dispatches help. That’s what I do. I’m the dispatcher.”

“The dispatcher of help,” he says, appreciation in his voice as he slowly nods. “One of the highest things a person on To’mah can do is be a protector.”

“Well, I’m not the protector. I dispatch the protectors.”

“That makes you a protector.”

I shake my head, wanting to quickly disabuse him of the notion that I’m anything close to a hero.

“No. I call the people who run into burning buildings, or walk into danger, or carry people to safety. I sit in a dark cubicle in a safe place and talk. That’s all I do.” I shrug.

Although we know each other well, I don’t want to admit just how much of a wimp I am. Some of my fellow 911 operators were washouts from fire or police training, many plan to apply again. I had no aspirations for that. I’m happy to be the calm, caring