Exposed by Moonbeam
Alien Abductions, Book 3
by Cynthia Sax
eBook ISBN: 9781419942433
Ary, a ruling prince of Sila, prides himself on being cool and unattached. Storm’s constantly moving mouth tests that resolve. Under her enticing touch, Ary’s primitive passions erupt, releasing his inner beast, freeing him from the restraints of tradition.
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“This Moonbeam place is in the middle of nowhere.” Howard, the television station’s most experienced cameraman, hunched over the steering wheel and peered through the bug-splattered windshield, the van’s headlights illuminating the lonely stretch of highway. Tall pine trees lined the pavement, their fresh scent mixing with the aroma of coffee guzzled hours ago. Stars sparkled above them, a vivid reminder that they might not be alone in the universe, a theory Storm would soon confirm.
“What are you going to do if your source doesn’t show?” Howard’s wrinkled face twisted into a scowl.
“My source will show,” Storm assured her overprotective friend. “He was scheduled to arrive in Moonbeam a week ago last Friday.” She glanced at the tiny screen of her handheld. Still no messages. “Don’t worry.”
“I have to worry because you’ve taken no precautions. Meeting with a strange man in a strange place.” He clucked his tongue. “Not everyone is your friend, Storm.”
“No one is my friend.” She recited her new mantra, undeterred by Howard’s worrying, an investigative reporter’s job to venture where others feared to tread. “I’m cool, calm and detached.”
“Right.” The older man snorted. “Who are you trying to be—Brenda?”
Storm’s face heated. “She did land the fulltime position with that attitude. Or it could have been her perfect blonde hair or her extensive coverage of the war in the Middle East that did it.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, a nasty habit she had been unable to break. “I need a war.”
“You’d cry over every death.” Howard reached over and patted her hand, his comment unfortunately true, her sympathy serving as a liability in the news business. “If your source has spent the last two weeks and a day in Moonbeam, why hasn’t he emailed you? How well do you know this guy?”
“Well enough.” She shrugged, unwilling to admit her fascination with the mysterious Arystokrata Nazwisko extended past the potentially groundbreaking story. “We’ve been in contact online for months. He claims communicating close to the rendezvous date is a security risk.” She sighed softly, missing their correspondence, Ary’s detailed stories of exotic alien worlds the highlight of her day.
Storm stared out the window at the night sky. Win says his stories are plausible and she’s the best astrobiologist I know. A meteor shot across the blackness. Is there truly life out there?
“Security risk? You’re meeting in Moonbeam, the Roswell of the North.” Howard tugged at his thin gray ponytail. “If he was so concerned about security, you’d think he would put more thought into the location.”
“Who says he didn’t? It’s the perfect site if he wants this initial encounter kept off the record,” Storm guessed, not knowing Ary’s reasoning. They exited Highway 11 and she leaned forward. The small town appeared dark and deserted, the ideal backdrop for a midnight exchange of top-secret information. “No one would believe he met with me here.” Especially with proof aliens exist.
It would be proof only she’d have access to, Ary promising her exclusivity. Storm’s lips curled upward as she envisioned her gracious acceptance of the News And Documentary Emmy Award, her proud journalism professors and jealous rivals standing in the audience, clapping enthusiastically and murmuring about how she broadened their horizons, making a difference in the world.
“Your source is right about no one believing you.” Howard interrupted her reverie. “It’s hard to take a town known for aliens seriously.” The van rolled to a stop in front of the town’s landmark, an illuminated silver nine-foot-tall model of a UFO. “What did I tell you?” He waved his hand at the empty space. “There’s not one car in the parking lot.”
“He’ll show,” Storm repeated, trusting Ary to keep his word.
“And when he does, I’ll be here to film your meeting.” Howard unbuckled his seatbelt. “I’m not leaving you in the dark alone.”
“You’re leaving me because the station will have your ass if you stay. Freelancers aren’t assigned cameramen, you know that.” Storm summoned a smile, irked by her lowly status. “And you have a forest fire you need to film.”
“The forest fire can wait,” Howard groused.
“No, it can’t. Don’t blow this opportunity for me.” She wagged her index finger at him. “I need this. I don’t want to be covering human interest stories forever.”
“You like human-interest stories.”
“I want to make a difference.” Storm pleaded for her friend to understand, needing to do this, to prove she was a great reporter. Howard opened his mouth and she rushed to clarify. “A big difference. That’s my dream, my destiny, what I know I’m meant to do.”
Howard sighed. “Who am I to hold you back from your dreams?”
“Thank you.” She opened the door and hopped down, her sturdy military boots crunching on the gravel surface. “I’ll be begging you for editing assistance on this story.” Storm swung her heavy backpack over one of her shoulders. “Consider yourself warned.”
“You do that.” Howard shook his head, chuckling. “And call me if you need help. Remember—”
“We cover the news, we don’t make it,” Storm recited and she laughed, closing the door with a solid thud. “Now get going before you scare my source.”
Howard waved as he drove away, a smile on his weathered face. Storm watched the dented cube van until it faded from view. A peculiar clicking noise filled the night air.
“I’ll filter that out of the audio afterward,” she noted. “Don’t let it bother you, Storm. Be professional, unemotional.” She checked the time on the handheld. She was six minutes early. “Audio.” Storm flicked the recording feature on and the handheld beeped. “Check.”
She walked to the flying saucer and stood directly underneath it, as instructed. “I’m in position.” She plunked her backpack down and scanned her surroundings. The landmark was isolated from the rest of the town, with no houses built nearby. Shadows stretched across the freshly mowed grass, providing plenty of places for her contact, Arystokrata Nazwisko, to hide.
I trust him. Storm rolled her shoulders back, her joints cracking. He didn’t spend months sending me hundreds of messages simply to lure me to a remote northern town and kill me.
She extracted her compact from the backpack and primped, pushing back wayward strands of red hair, her short curls never falling perfectly in place as Brenda’s longer light-catching golden tendrils did. Storm grimaced, her untamable hair adding more stress to an already stressful situation.
“Not that I have video.” She twisted her lips. “I should have asked for permission to record video.” An unusually large meteor flashed across the midnight sky. “Brenda would have asked for permission.” Storm tucked the compact away and wiped her moist palms on her khaki-colored cargo pants. The annoying clicking noise increased in volume.
“Storm Mackenzie?” The voice was male and disappointingly nasally, Storm expecting Ary’s voice to be deeper and sexier. A shadow separated from the others.
She narrowed her eyes, peering into the darkness, the silhouette strange, almost insect-like. “I’m Storm Mackenzie. Is that you, Arystokrata Nazwisko?” She was proud of how the difficult name fluidly flowed off her tongue, having practiced the pronunciation for hours.
“No.” He stepped into the light and she gasped. The man…creature resembled a giant red ant, guns unlike any she’d ever seen clasped in his four hands.
Don’t run. Storm’s flesh crawled and her heart beat frantically in her chest. Great reporters don’t run. She inhaled, counted to five and exhaled.
It’s a story. It isn’t real. Film the story. Storm fumbled with her handheld, found the video function, and activated it, positioning the camera to frame the ant man. An ant man. She trembled with excitement and fear. “W-w-who are you and what do you want?”
“I am a Mravenec warrior. I want you, Storm Mackenzie, mate of Ruler Arystokrata Nazwisko, and I want revenge upon all of Sila.” He pointed one of the guns at her feet and tapped a button. Red electricity flared from the muzzle and snapped toward her.
“Shit.” She jumped backward. The energy curled around her ankles, binding them together. She stumbled and toppled over, landing with a thump on her ass, the grass cushioning her fall, her handheld remaining in her hands.
“I’ve been captured.” Storm’s voice wavered, her fear audible and unprofessional. Be cold, calm and detached. “The electricity doesn’t hurt.” Do your job. Report on the news. “I feel numb.” She wiggled her toes within her boots. “I can’t break the bond. It must be some sort of super strong alien technology.”
The giant ant man approached, his antennae twitching and his jaws clicking as they snapped open and shut. “He’s coming for me.” Storm wiggled away from him, seeing no kindness reflected in his forbidding insect face and having no desire for a posthumous Emmy Award.
“You’re mistaken, Mr. Warrior,” she called to him. “I’m not Ruler Arystokrata Nazwisko’s mate. He’s my source.” The ant’s expression remained blank. “He’s my contact and that’s all,” she explained, frantic to stop him. “We haven’t even met, not in person, so if you’re thinking to trade me or hold me for ransom, he won’t negotiate, not for me.” The ant pointed a larger, more deadly-looking gun at her head, and a trickle of perspiration slid down her spine. “I’m nothing to him.”
“You are everything to me, my Storm,” a stranger yelled, his inhumanly deep voice rumbling through her body.
A flaming fireball slammed into the giant ant and flung him to the side, severing one of his arms, the limb twitching on the lawn. An even larger creature darted toward her, teeny tiny guns clutched in his big hands. The newcomer’s skin glimmered with two colors of green, ridges cascaded down his bald skull, and every inch of him rippled with muscles.
“This is what an alien should look like.” She juggled the handheld, recording his glorious form as she inched back on the grass, struggling to escape him, her ankles bound. “He’s a beast, a space warrior, from a distant planet and he’s coming for me.”
He moved with a fluid grace, a predator positioned at the top of the food chain, big and fierce and all male, the bulge in his green admiral outfit impressively thick and long. Storm’s pussy moistened and her nipples tightened, her arousal inappropriate and undeniable. “Who are you and what do you want from me?”
The ant man lurched to his feet. The newcomer shot his absurdly small gun and the fireball ripped off another one of the ant’s arms, spinning his insect body.
“I am not a beast or a warrior. I am Ruler Arystokrata Nazwisko.” The green alien rolled in front of her and a fireball grazed off his shoulder, leaving a trail of red. “Lejno,” he grunted, his pointed teeth clenched, and Storm winced, feeling his pain, the connection between them unexplainable, yet there, humming, as alive as they were. “You are my druzka and I will face termination to protect you, to protect Sila.”
Holy shit. This is Ary. Storm’s mouth dropped open, the alien’s imposing figure becoming even more attractive to her. Intelligence, brawn and bravery. A fireball blazed by her, singeing her clothes and heating her skin. She shook herself, refocusing on the job she had to do, not wishing to squander this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
“As promised.” Storm spoke into her handheld. “Ruler Arystokrata Nazwisko has provided us with proof aliens exist. He is the proof. Ary, my contact, is an alien.” And what an alien. She stared at his broad back, admiring his form. Ary blasted the giant ant, firing both of his guns. The enemy shot back with his bigger guns, red flames arcing over them.
“I’m in the middle of a war, an alien war.” Storm trembled with excitement. This is it. This is my war. “Ruler Arystokrata Nazwisko is protecting the Earth from the evil Mravenec warrior.” Ary’s body shuddered as he was hit and Storm gasped. Red flowed down the alien’s arm and over his fingers. “He’s bleeding for our planet.” Her voice cracked, her enthusiasm for death and destruction fading with every drop of spilled blood. “Bravely risking his life so we might live.”
Don’t die, Ary. Storm tightened her grip on the handheld. Please don’t die.
The giant ant hid behind a boulder while Ary maintained his position, crouched protectively in front of her, his body a big unguarded target. Because of me. Storm chewed on her bottom lip, torn between a story of a lifetime and the alien prince shielding her from harm.
The ant man shot from the safety of his boulder. “Lejno.” One of Ary’s tiny guns skidded across the green grass. He raised his remaining gun, returning fire, his single gun facing the giant ant’s two larger weapons.
“Fuck journalistic neutrality.” Storm set the handheld down, abandoning her story, and with it, her career. She crawled toward the tiny firearm and curled her fingers around the smooth metal, Ary’s weapon resembling an earth gun, the barrel hot and the handle fitting into her hand.
Storm pointed the space gun at the giant ant. “No one messes with one of my sources.” She pressed the big green button.
The gun slammed into her shoulder and flung her backward. She screamed as she skidded along the ground, her ass pounded repeatedly by the sod, the friction chafing her tender skin.
“My Storm,” Ary bellowed. He ran toward her, shooting over his shoulder with his one remaining gun. The ant man blasted back with his weapons and fireballs arced back and forth, lighting the night sky. “Druzka!”
The ant’s head exploded. The enemy fell to his knees and folded onto the ground.
“You did it!” Storm raised her arms in victory, her ass planted on the grass, her legs tingling. “You killed the ant man!”
Ary glanced back at the dead ant. “I did terminate the Mravenec warrior.” He grinned, displaying sharp pointed teeth, his smugness adorably human. His unusual eyes swirled two shades of green, no white visible. “It was, as you humans say, a lucky shot.” He holstered the space gun and extracted a dagger from his 1970s-style green jumpsuit.
Storm tensed, seeing death reflected in its gleaming blade. His hand blurred as it descended, allowing her no time to avoid the blow. He neatly severed her electrical bond, freeing her ankles, leaving not one scratch on her black leather boots. She relaxed. I’m safe, healthy, alive.
Because of him. She gazed at her big alien with open admiration. He saved me.
Ary sniffed the air, his nostrils flaring, and the ridges on his forehead condensed. “Are you too damaged, my Storm?”
She staggered to her feet, her legs shaky, and she brushed the grass off her pants, the throbbing pain radiating from her injured ass equivalent to a thorough spanking with an unyielding paddle. “Too damaged for what?”
“For fucking.” He loomed above her, blood dripping down his arm, his torn uniform revealing more green skin and bulging muscles. “I will please you. I am more skilled than your human males at fucking.” He swept his unharmed hand over the ridge in his skintight pants and Storm blinked as the ridge vibrated. “I am Silan and I have trained extensively with the human female simulators.”
Extensively? Storm gulped. Cold, calm and detached. Remember your new mantra. “I shouldn’t fuck my sources. It might compromise my journalistic integrity.” She stepped back, her aching nipples and wet pussy belying her statement, her body primed over months of daily correspondence for this encounter.
Ary inhaled deeply, his chest rising. “I smell your need, my Storm.”
“You know what my need smells like?” Her face heated. “How good are those simulators?”
He smiled, his eyes churning with a rich forest green. “We have discussed the simulators at length.”
They had, their messages hugging the fine line between transference of information and sexual flirtation, Ary’s intelligence and knowledge a turn on. Something inside Storm, her womanly intuition perhaps, knew that when they met, they’d fuck, and Ary being an alien hadn’t changed that belief. Storm wet her lips with the tip of her tongue and his gaze tracked the motion, his focus on her and her alone.
“You’re hurt. You need medical attention, not a fast fuck.” She waved at his arm, her gaze remaining fixed on his vibrating cock, his ridged shaft clearly outlined. God. She squirmed, rubbing her thighs together. What will he feel like inside me?
“My damage will not interfere with our fucking.” He stripped his garment from his body, his chest ridged, his hips narrow, his overwhelmingly masculine form completely hairless. “I am Silan,” he announced with an arousing arrogance, standing before her completely naked except for the big black boots on his feet, his huge pulsating cock jutting upward.
“You think you’re superior to us, huh?” Storm laughed nervously, finding the prospect of fucking him, a big green alien, daunting.
“There is no thinking.” He curled his thick fingers around the collar of her shirt. “We are superior.” Ary ripped the cotton easily, the night air cooling her heated skin. He examined her chest, her curves barely covered by a black lace bra Storm had bought especially for tonight. “We only source mates from Earth because we have no females of our own.”
“Yes, I remember, you told me that.” She inhaled sharply as he cupped her breasts, lifting them, weighing them in his hands, his damaged left hand weaker than his right, yet no less commanding. “Was everything you told me true—the Sila-based training facilities with simulations of Earth life, your people’s abductions of single women, the mind-blowing space travel spanning multiple galaxies—all of it?”
“It is the truth. I would not lie to you or to any other being, my druzka.” Ary pushed the lace aside and brushed his calloused thumbs over her nipples, leaving lines of red, his blood painting her skin. She shivered with bliss, his body heat engulfing her and his scent, a mixture of minerals and man, filling her nostrils.
“You are my Storm.” He bent his head and licked her nipple with the flat of his tongue, sending waves of sensation over her curves.
“Ary.” She clutched his shoulder ridges and arched into him, pressing her hips against him, his skin resembling soft velvet over hard metal.
“Your Ary,” he corrected. He swirled his tongue around her pink flesh, escalating her excitement. “You will address me as your Ary and you are my Storm.”
His Storm. Why do I like the sound of that? She pushed her breast against his lips, wanting, needing him to suck her nipple, all of her professional reasons for not fucking him evaporating under the heat of his mouth. Cold, calm and detached, be damned. I need his alien cock.
A bright light flashed across the sky above them and Ary glanced upward. His lips flattened into a forbidding line. “We do not have time for tasting.”
Ary clasped the waistband of her cargo pants and tore, shredding them with three hard yanks of his hands, his display of strength incredibly stimulating. “I must fuck you now.” He twisted the lace of her panties in his right fist, the fragile fabric giving way, offering no defense against his eagerness.
So rough. Fear tempered Storm’s need, their difference in size monumental. “You won’t hurt me, will you?”
“I will not damage you.” Ary laid his hands on her hips and lifted her easily, his breathing calm and level. She held onto his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his ridged torso. “We are compatible.” He lowered her onto him, his vibrating cockhead gyrating upward, his massive girth stretching her to the point of pain, each ridge on his shaft a sexual test.
“Barely compatible.” She sucked on his chest, tasting salt and minerals, his unique flavor bursting in her mouth. The long slide continued, Ary filling her as she’d never been filled before. “God, you’re huge.”
“You can accommodate me.” Ary didn’t give her any other choice, pushing her down on him, ruthlessly invading her body.
Her pussy lips touched his base and he groaned, his chest rumbling. “Lejno,” he murmured against her forehead. “You feel better than any simulator, so wet and tight and hot. I did not expect this, not from such a primitive species.”
“Yes, we primitive humans are great lays,” Storm replied dryly, her irritation soothed by the inches of ridged cock pulsating inside her pussy. “Tell that to your superior alien buddies.” She tilted her head back to look into his swirling eyes. “Are all of the other Silans as big as you?”
“There will be no other Silans. You are mine.” Ary growled, his possessiveness drawing moisture from her pussy. He captured her lips and surged into her mouth with a surprising ferocity, tasting of charred meat and man.
As he ravished her, punishing her with his tongue, he grabbed her aching ass, lifted her, and slammed her back down upon him, bouncing her breasts against his chest and pushing the air from her lungs. Her alien fucked her with an awe-inspiring intensity, driving into her hard and fast, savaging her with his cock.
Storm held onto him, panting into his mouth, riding his hard body. His vibrating shaft pressed against the back of her clit, sending tremors of bliss throughout her pussy.
Ary grunted and his ridges rattled, his animalistic sounds exciting her. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, piercing his skin, marking him, wishing to claim him, her alien male.
He saved me from certain death. Storm gazed into his intriguing eyes, seeing his intelligence and pride and loneliness, attributes she had sensed in his messages. And in return, I’ll save him from his solitude. She moaned as he thrust deep, owning her body with fierce, hard strokes.
Storm’s pussy tightened around his shaft, increasing the delightful friction between them, her body awash in sensation, and he moved faster, his fucking wild and out of control. She gritted her teeth, her desire quickened by months of abstinence, Ary’s emails having obliterated her interest in other men.
Lights flashed around them and strange male voices spoke in a guttural language she didn’t understand, but all Storm knew was Ary, his cock pounding her pussy, his big hands clenching her hips and his hot breath on her neck.
“Please, Ary,” Storm begged, needing to come and come hard, the waiting unbearable, her pussy humming with the impact of his thrusts.
“Not Ary, my Ary.” He thrust deep and slapped her ass, his rough palm landing on her chafed skin, the delectable pain breaking her.
“My Ary,” Storm screamed, bowing her spine. She grasped his shoulder ridges frantically and squeezed down on his shaft with her pussy muscles, holding onto him as the stars streamed around her, her world spinning madly out of control.
“My Storm!” Ary tossed back his head and roared her name to the night sky, the sound deafening and dominant, a primitive creature’s declaration of ownership. Hot spurts of cum shot from his vibrating cock, bathing her in warmth, setting off another round of tremors.
She quivered and shook in his arms as he held her, his arms unyielding bands of muscle around her waist, his heart beating against his chest ridges. His cock gyrations slowed as her breathing leveled.
“Whoa,” Storm murmured, light-headed with bliss. “You weren’t kidding about being skilled.” She rested her forehead against Ary’s skin, his body remaining joined with hers, alien and human, the experience beyond her comprehension.
Ellora’s Cave ‖ ARe ‖ Kindle ‖ Nook