A man whose mating fever was upon him was immediately relieved of duty and sent home to Atlan to take a mate. His term of service fighting the Hive was over. A man’s new job was to procreate, to breed his new mate like the beast he was until she carried his child.
Retiring and raising a family while there were still active Hive outposts to fight? No. That, I had no desire to do. I belonged on the front lines of battle, tearing the heads off my enemies and protecting my people. I didn’t need a mate, nor did I desire offspring. I was content with my life as it was. Out here, I was a warrior with purpose. What was I to do with a mate? Follow her around like a lovesick youth, stroking my cock and wasting precious hours trying to convince an alien female not to fear me or my beast? How was I supposed to do that?
When an Atlan turned into a beast, his muscles bulged to nearly twice their size, teeth lengthened into fangs, and the ability to speak was nearly lost. What was an alien female going to do with an Atlan gone berserk?
I needed to go home and find an Atlan female, one I knew wouldn’t fear me. A woman I wouldn’t fear breaking in half with my giant cock and my need to completely dominate her body, to cover her with my bulk and fuck her until she passed out. Resistance riled my beast, and in rut of a mating fever, any rebellion or disobedience from a female would be harshly dealt with. An Atlan female would respond well to my need for control, would grow wet with welcome when I growled at her and would spread her legs wide for my eager cock, knowing that her soft body and wet pussy would tame me in the end. Perhaps she would even allow me to sleep with my head pillowed on her soft thigh, my face next to the sweet scent of her pussy as I dreamed of fucking her again.
But an alien woman? What was she going to expect? A man who daydreamed and wrote love letters and brought her shiny gifts? No. On Atlan, holding a woman’s hands locked over her head and fucking her against the wall was a love letter. An Atlan warrior’s gift to his bride was to tie her down and lick her pussy until her orgasms made her scream and beg to be fucked. My cock swelled at the images in my mind and I shifted, trying to hide my condition from Commander Deek. I glanced at his face, at his raised brow, and conceded defeat. Mating fever. I simply could not stop thinking about fucking.
“Let me go home. I can find a mate on my own,” I replied as I dropped into the exam chair. It was reclined, so I leaned back, crossed my arms over my waist, and stared up at the metal ceiling with a clenched jaw.
“You don’t have time to go through a formal courtship on Atlan. That could take months.” He took a seat on a stool near the end of the table and looked me straight in the eye. “You’ll be dead in a week if you aren’t mated. You have no time to court and woo an elite Atlan female and can be placed at the top of the list for a mate. Clearly your fever offers special accommodation and haste.”
I gave him a disbelieving gaze, raising my brow. “Court and woo? And who said anything about an elite?” At this point, I’d settle for a prostitute on the outer rim as long as her skin was soft and her pussy was wet.
He rolled his eyes. No warrior returned home to Atlan to anything less than an elite female. Warrior mates were prized possessions on Atlan; wealthy, influential and respected. The available females, and their fathers, would expect a full ritual courtship from me, were I to return home now. I was a ground commander, a warlord in charge of several thousand infantry forces and raiding squadrons. I was not a first year soldier returning home with nothing. The Atlan senate would honor me upon my return with wealth, property, and title.
Commander Deek was right. Even if I transported home today, I wouldn’t have an approved mating for months. I didn’t have time for formality. I didn’t have time to woo and court a soft Atlan female. I needed quick and dirty. I needed a woman I could mount and fuck and dominate now, a woman to bring me back from the edge. Someone soft, serene, gentle, and fertile, as the elite females on Atlan were. A woman who could pet my beast and calm my rage.
He cuffed me on the shoulder when he noticed I no longer paid attention. “Listen, Dax. You will only take a mate once and you need to do it right. Even if you’re matched to an alien.”
The idea of coming to actually like a mate, an alien mate, was highly improbable. But I didn’t need to fall in love. I just needed to fuck her. Well, not just fuck her, but bond with her to satisfy my beast’s hunger for touch, for the soothing stroke of a woman’s hands on my body. Should be simple enough.
“All right. Get it done,” I said, resolved.
Restraints curved up and around my wrists and locked into place. My inner beast raged at the confinement, but I remained in control. Barely. I knew this was the fastest way to summon a mate and I focused on that fact above all else until the beast stilled within me, watchful but willing to wait.