Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
This eight-foot-tall alien brute already stripped me bare, spanked my a$$ red, and made me beg and scream and c*me like a good little pet for him while he ravaged my virgin body mercilessly.
But when my fearsomely sexy boss flips up my skirt tonight, he’s not just going to use me as he pleases.
He’s going to breed me.
Publisher’s Note: Her Alien Boss is a standalone romance that includes spankings, rough, intense sexual scenes, and strong D/s themes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
Evie Westport
“Another probe?” The question comes in an elegant voice that covers for alien brutality the likes of which I am only beginning to come to understand.
I moan something incoherent. Could be yes, could be no. Neither response would matter because the question was not addressed to me. I am the subject of these erotic indignities, not an active participant.
I am already filled in the place a woman craves to be filled when she is awash with desire. I cannot imagine where another probe might go…
“Yes,” a deep alien voice intones. “Another probe. Both holes, I think.”
Oh. There.
I am shuddering in the grip of an organic binding that will let me writhe, but not let me go. Thick sucking attachment points wrap around my waist and my shoulders. And then, at my most sensitive zones, smaller suckers are producing a wet pulsing motion that is on the verge of driving me into madness.
“She’s very responsive.”
“She is. She is also very disobedient. So. Another probe.”
“All three, your lordship?”
“All three,” the rough voice that has written itself into my soul growls.
I chose to be here. I took this job knowing what might happen. I thought I’d be different. I thought I’d get away with more things. I have gotten away with nothing, and the only difference between me and other human women who have given themselves in employment to aliens is that my fate might be more shamefully intense than the rest of them put together.
To think just a few weeks ago, I was celebrating what I thought would be a turning point in my career. I had no idea how right I was, and I had no concept of what it would cost me.
* * *
Earlier…
“I got the assignment,” I say casually as I walk back into the shared office of the Alpha Core division of the Centauri project.
I’m trying not to gloat, I really am, but when you’ve been fighting with a co-worker for three years and seem to always get passed over, finally getting what you deserve feels good. A girl deserves to celebrate every now and then. That’s why I’m letting myself enjoy this light smirk. It feels like pure luxury.
Rustle looks up from his laptop. He has that pissy look he gets when something hasn’t gone his way. “Fuck off, no, you didn’t,” he says.
“Assignment, and a transfer, and a generous renumeration package,” I say. I’m trying not to grin. I fail. Rustle is getting more pissed by the moment, but he’d be even more insufferable if it had been him who won the promo. I would be getting every juicy detail of the meeting, and more besides.
“They said I’m the best fit for the position because of my experience and superior field capability, not to mention my command of Antusian and Daktari linguistic components.”
“You got the job because you have a pussy,” he grunts.
“That’s not very professional, Rustle.”
“Report me to HR,” he says.
Rustle and I went through the academy together, then got recruited together. He got the first field position and came back acting like he was the first person ever to make alien contact. He’s not. Humanity has been in contact with seven officially recognized alien species for over a hundred years.
Earth is a human preserve. Aliens aren’t officially allowed there. Except for the ones that live in the ocean, but they’re not an official species.
It’s gotten complicated. For the most part, aliens want humans to stay where they are. They don’t like the notion of us getting out en masse. We’ve been banned, in large part, from space travel. A few of us can go on specially selected missions, but the large bulk of the human population is under heavily enforced go-home-stay-home measures.
That’s what makes this job offer so incredibly exciting. The opportunities to work with alien species on alien planets are extremely limited, and highly sought after.
I just got one of them handed to me on a silver fucking platter. And it’s not low-level grunt work, either. It’s a position with status. I’m going to be helping train machines for the Daktari, working in their advanced research division. They couldn’t tell me too much about it, because of the secrecy of the project, but what I did learn has filled me with anticipation and glee.
“I’m going to be the investigative human attaché to a Daktari warlord, Arkon Thornhall.”
His pupils dilate with jealousy, and his face turns nasty and I know he has worked out something vile to say to me that he is going to pretend is professional courtesy.
“You’re going to be sold into the human slave trade,” he says. “I give it less than a day before you’re being railed by a dozen aliens we don’t have classifications for.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I say, refusing to be obviously freaked out by his predictions. He has no idea I am a virgin, because I’ve never brought it up with my enemy.