Grace Goodwin's Blog - Posts Tagged "the-beasts"

"Styx Legion, Enforcer, Hyperion/Hunter/Prillon hybrid... One of the Legion's top 5 people. He’s as bad as they come." - GG

READ CHAPTER ONE NOW!!

Abigail “Abby” Gregg, Interstellar Brides Processing Center, Miami, Florida

The slow, heavy movement of a large—make that huge—cock pumping in and out of my body made me gasp and reach for my mate.
I groaned with pleasure as the male fucking me took my hands and shoved them over my head, his heat enveloping me as he fucked me harder. Deeper. Faster.
“Bite me,” I begged. The voice was desperate, female, but definitely not mine. My
body was too big, too tall, my legs too long. I’d had sex against the wall before, and I
knew my legs were not long enough to wrap around a man whose hips were this big. He
was big all over. Massive chest lined with sculpted muscle. Thighs as thick as a football
player’s. Even his hands were bigger than anything I’d ever seen before, easily trapping
my wrists between his fingers as he held me in place for his attention.
He thrust deeper, my—her—pussy stretching as our lover tilted his hips, lifting her—me—higher off the ground.
“Patience, mate.” His voice was a deep rumble, one this body recognized. Every
cell in this body reacted to the sound with anticipation. Heat. My—her—pussy tight. So
fucking tight. Ready to explode.
“Now. Please, do it now.” The words seemed to drive the male a bit mad as his cock
actually swelled inside me, getting bigger. Harder.
Hands over my head, my back was pressed to a hard surface as he shifted his hips, moving in a circular motion until the body I was inhabiting moaned in surrender. I was right there, on the edge with her. I wanted to come. Needed to come. We were soooo close, but I—she—knew we were missing something. Something fucking spectacular.
And she wanted it. Badly.
Now.
“Please.”

With a grunt, the male before me smiled. I couldn’t quite make out his face, his
features a bit of a blur. Dark hair? Thick lips? Maybe. What I could see were fangs.
Long. Sharp. Dripping with some kind of…venom?
In a panic, I tried to pull back, but the body I was in did the opposite, dropping
her—our—head to one side to give this freak better access.
He was going to bite me! And this body wanted him to. Holy shit. What the actual hell was happening right now? I tried to shout out in protest as the male lowered his head toward my—her—neck.
He scraped the sharp points over her sensitive skin, the slight sting making
my—her—pussy clench in anticipation. The first shocking stirring of an orgasm rocketed
through me in a single spasm. Stopped.
Her moan of protest matched what I was feeling. The orgasm rode me, teased me,
wouldn’t quite come for a visit. Damn it.
“I want them deep. Fuck me. Bite me. I need you.” The female voice sobbed with
need. She was desperate. Shameless. I would never beg like that.
Never.
The male fucking me shuddered at her words, his fangs returning to press along the
curve of her neck. “You are mine. My mate. I will kill anyone who touches you.”
“Yes,” she begged, his words, his threat of violence, making her body spin out of
control. She was dizzy. Which meant I was dizzy. I felt like I was falling. Spinning. Lost.
“Mine.”
Fangs sank deep, the shock wave of heat, the momentary flash of pain followed by
intense bliss as hot liquid—the best fucking drug I had ever even dreamed
existed—flooded my body. My mind. Love exploded inside my—her—body as her mate
claimed her, filled her with his essence.
I had no idea how I knew what was happening, but she knew. He was giving her everything. His body. His life. His loyalty. His soul was in that bite. And she took it like the greedy bitch she was—took it all. Leaving nothing for me.
Her body exploded, the orgasm making her wail in a long, drawn-out scream of
pleasure that I felt with every cell in my body.

Fuck. Me. My body rocked up off the table as the strange sound of my own voice filled my ears and the male, his bite, the complete and utter bliss I’d been feeling, faded away like a dream.
“No!” I tried to get him back. I wasn’t finished. She wasn’t finished. We wanted more. I knew she was going to get more. A lot more.
“Miss Gregg? Can you hear me?”
“No.”
A soft huff of laughter answered my denial. “Glad you are back in the land of the
living. Your testing is complete.”
“Send me back.” I rolled my head from side to side, testing the hardness of the
strange indentation my skull rested between. And then I remembered all of it. The
Interstellar Brides testing center. The chair that looked like my worst nightmare from too
many visits to the dentist’s office—I had a rather terrible sweet tooth when I was young
and too many cavities to count. I remembered, too, that my two best friends in the world
were gone, really gone. No longer on Earth, gone. Which was just one more layer to the
reasoning behind my decision to volunteer as a bride.
That, and I wanted an Atlan warlord like Tane for my very own. Or Bahre. Hell, I
wasn’t picky. Any warlord would do as long as he looked at me the way Tane looked at
my friend Elena. Lucky, lucky Elena. But…Atlans didn’t bite. Did they?
I opened my eyes to see a kind but not smiling Warden Egara looking at me with
her lips tight and her head tilted at an angle as she studied me. “Are you all right?”
Was I? Well, my body was still pulsing with the aftershocks from an orgasm that
hadn’t really been mine. I’d been bitten by some kind of freak alien with fangs and loved
it. Wanted more. My wrists were in restraints so I wouldn’t fall off the chair as I writhed
and begged some unknown alien to pump his cock into me, bite me, and make me
scream. And I had no idea what the hell I’d just seen. I’d signed up to get matched to an
Atlan. Not…that. Whatever that alien creature had been.
“I don’t like vampires. You know that, right?” The thought of sucking blood had
always made me nauseous. Gross. Just gross.
Warden Egara raised her perfectly arched brow. “There are no vampires in the
Coalition Fleet.”

“Then what’s with the fangs?”
She glanced down at the tablet screen she held in her hands. “You have been
matched to the moon base Rogue 5. The people there are hybrid descendants of a
native race of fanged creatures who lived on the planet Hyperion.”
“All of them? They all have fangs?”
“Yes.” She studied me for long, silent seconds. “Did you find the bite
uncomfortable?”
I couldn’t lie. I wanted to, but I couldn’t make myself do it. “No.”
“Excellent.” She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as she ran through a series of
rapid-fire questions. Was I married? Did I have children? Was I legally responsible for
any children here on Earth? I would have thirty days to reject the match. Blah. Blah.
Blah. I’d already read everything, checked every box, and answered all these questions
more than once. I barely listened. I couldn’t stop thinking about those fangs. That
orgasm. That feeling of being blissed out.
That kind of pleasure would be addictive. I’d be eager. Desperate. Needy. I hated
that. What if he said no? What if he got her—me—all hot and bothered and needy and
then refused to bite me? I would not be like that woman in my dream. I would not beg.
Would. Not.
“Why do they bite? What’s in that venom?”
“It’s not venom, my dear. It’s a special enzyme complex that promotes healing and
helps the males bond with their mates. It also encourages the female body to prepare
for pregnancy.” She grinned at me. “To be honest, I’m not exactly sure how it works. I
haven’t studied it in detail as you are the first bride I am sending to them.”
“What?”
“Well, technically, they are not part of the Coalition Fleet. However, some members
of their legions have helped us, so those males qualify for a bride on a case-by-case
basis. And this is a very good match. Very good.”
“What does that mean?”
“Ninety-eight percent compatible. Nearly perfect.”

Perfect? Except I did not like vampires. I’d watched a Dracula movie when I was
seven and never moved past it. Even the sparkling vampires that were so popular for a
while couldn’t erase that dark terror from my memories. “Helped how?”
She shrugged. “Spying, probably. Smuggling. The legions are, technically, criminal
organizations. They are run somewhat like our motorcycle gangs, or maybe like the
Mafia here on Earth. I’m not exactly sure. But whatever they do for us, I know the I.C.
doesn’t want their activities in the official records.”
“The I.C.?”
“The Intelligence Core. Kind of like the CIA.”
God. What had I gotten myself into? “And you’re telling me I’m matched to one of
these smuggler spy criminals?” Instead of an Atlan? I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t quite
get over the bliss of that bite. I was losing my mind and all good sense. Officially. Gone.
“Yes. You will be sent to Transport Station Zenith, where your mate will meet you
and create a cover story for you.”
“Cover story?”
“Outsiders are not allowed on Rogue 5. But don’t worry. There are at least two other
human women mated to members of the legions.”
“But not brides.”
“Correct. One met her mate at a bar, of all places.” Warden Egara laughed. “A
space bar called a canteen. She was a medical officer in the Fleet, and from what I
hear, they didn’t even make it to their room.”
Sex in a bar? In space? God. “And the other woman?”
“Oh, she was a fighter. She left the Coalition and infiltrated the legion to avenge her
ReCon unit. Her friends were all killed by an overdose of a drug one of the legions sold
to her friends.”
What? “Did she get them?”
“Her new mate did. Or rather, his legion. I’m not sure exactly what happened. I only
get bits and pieces sometimes. Earth is so very far away, after all.”
“Gossip will always find a way.” I knew that to be one hundred percent fact. Truth or
lies, nothing traveled faster than a juicy bit of gossip. What would my social media
followers think—all five million of them—if they knew I was going off to be married to a

space criminal? What did I think? This mate of mine didn’t sound like a big teddy bear
Atlan. Or even one of the uptight, rule-following Prillon guards I’d met at the Bachelor
Ball or at Chet’s house after. I was matched to a criminal? A bad guy?
No. A spy. Maybe like a double agent? Was he a good guy?
Had to be, right? On a case-by-case basis? He’d helped, earned a bride, so he had
to be good.
Shit. What if he wasn’t? Would I care? That bite had made me lose my mind. Would
I care what he did when he wasn’t making me sob with out-of-control orgasms?
Damn. Yes. The answer was yes. I would care. “What happens if I don’t like him?”
“You have thirty days to decide. If you find Cormac does not make you happy…”
Cormac. His name was Cormac.
“…report to Styx, the leader of his legion. He knows how to contact someone who
can get you out of there.”
“Okay.” At least I had an out. That made me feel better.
“Oh, one more thing. This is a special case. Normally, your mate would be waiting
for you with bells on, so to speak. If you were going anywhere else, I wouldn’t have
been able to tell you his name. In this case, the Styx legion’s involvement with the
Coalition Fleet is top secret. Revealing their connection to us could endanger multiple
lives. No one can know you are an Interstellar Bride.”
“But…how am I supposed to explain being there?”
“Cormac will take care of that, I’m sure. When you arrive, play along. Pretend you
know him, that you met him somewhere else. Be vague until you two get your story
straight. He will do the same.”
Great. Was she serious? I studied her facial features. Not one hint of a teasing grin.
No smile. She was deadly serious.
The warden’s fingers flew over her tablet, and she seemed to be making multiple
selections. “I do believe you are ready to go.”
“I—”
A line appeared in the wall next to me, and the chair I was sitting on jolted to the
side as it moved into the new space the retreating section of wall created. Beyond the
wall was a room bathed in blue light with a small pool in its center.

“Hold still, Abby. You need your NPU.”
I knew from dealing with the Atlan Warlords and from my own research that the
Neural Processing Unit was some kind of universal translator. I wouldn’t be able to
understand my new mate or anyone else in space without it. Holding perfectly still, I
waited as a slender robotic arm moved toward my head. The sharp tip settled just below
and behind my ear. I winced as it pierced my skin. This bite hurt a hell of a lot more than
the vampire man’s had in my dream. Vision? Memory?
“Wait! What does he look like?” I squirmed in the stupid hospital-style gown I was
wearing, my bare backside sticking to the seat, my thighs and bottom coated with my
arousal. I was very ready for some hot sex. Really hot sex. With a vampire criminal.
What the hell was going on here? Was there something wrong with me? Why didn’t
I get matched to an Atlan? I really, really wanted an Atlan warlord. Damn it.
I tried to use my arms to shift my weight on the seat but didn’t get far. My wrists
were restrained, supposedly so I wouldn’t fall off and injure myself while I was out of my
mind having sex on another planet—in someone else’s body. The thought made me
squirm even more. I had to stop moving before I got a rug burn. Seat burn. Whatever.
Warden Egara was watching me, and she hadn’t answered my question.
“Well?“ I insisted. “How am I supposed to know who he is?”
“Normally, I’m not allowed to show you. But this is a bit of an unusual match, so I
will. As I said, his name is Cormac. He is a member of Styx legion.” She moved her
hands even faster over the tablet. Seconds later, the wall before me turned into a large
screen.
And there he was. Holy crap. I didn’t know when they’d taken the picture, but he
didn’t look happy. His eyes were dark and narrowed as if he were annoyed. His hair
was so short it looked like a buzz cut the army gave new military recruits. I thought
maybe it was black as well, but it was nearly impossible to tell the color with it being so
short. His face was older. Somber. He looked like he had been to hell and back and
could teach a class on cruelty.
But his lips were full. His jaw was cut. He was handsome in a brutal way that made
my pussy clench and my nipples grow hard. He wouldn’t treat me like a porcelain doll

that might break at any moment. No. He looked like the kind of man—alien—who would
shove me up against a wall, bite me, and fuck my brains out.
I shuddered with anticipation, with a raw hunger I’d never before allowed myself to
feel, as I studied the barely visible tips of his fangs peaking at me from between his lips.
So this was my mate. My hard as nails, take no prisoners, no bullshit mate. Cormac.
Cormac with fangs.
I wanted him to bite me. Fill me with his cock and claim me. Like, now. Right
freaking now.
Maybe I didn’t need an Atlan warlord after all. I’d met several, and not one had
made me want to rip his clothes off and demand sex.
Warden Egara waved her hand at me as the chair lowered me, gown and all, into
the warm, blue water. I had to admit, the bath felt heavenly. Soothing. So relaxing.
“Good luck, Abby!”
I tried to smile, but I was suddenly so very tired. My eyelids were so heavy.
The last thing I remembered was Warden Egara’s voice.
“Your processing will begin in 3…2…1…”