Excerpt from:  Future Fantasies Volume Two: Princess Concubine
By author Candy Dance
copyrighted ©AllureBooks2001

To read more of this erotic story and many new and original titles,  visit www.allurebooks.com . Exciting and sexually explicit novellas in the Regency, Medieval, Present Day, and Futuristic genre are for ale.

Chapter One

"The princess-concubine of the Kimaree has arrived, First Commander H. She is waiting in your quarters."

He was called First Commander H by many warriors beneath him and Prey Hunter more widely by his people, but Prey by only a few. He lifted his gaze reluctantly away from the beauty of a battle plan that he had been looking over. Battle plans to overtake the Kimaree providence with the least amount of causalities.


And Prey realized in the long instance that he hesitated to acknowledge the words spoken to him—how much he was not looking forward to this. Yet, he could growl at his fate and it would change nothing. He was committed and by sacrificing himself now, he would save Kimaree lives.

His father would be appalled were he alive. To witness a spawn of his—positioning for peaceful overtaking, instead of the glorious undertaking of a war. -Only war was not glorious, except perhaps, to that occasional warrior who survived many battles against all the odds. Yet there were so few of that nature, and that luck.

"How did she appear, Tigar?" Prey asked, shifting his brawn with a lithe grace that betrayed his height and stature. "Was she very disgusted?"

"Negative, Prey," Tigar responded with a purely wolfish smile. "She liked me. She even purred and smiled." Prey watched Tigar scratch his smoothly bald head. "Amazed I was, expecting her to be a heap of fright on the deck, once she got a clear look at me. But not that! No, she purred prettily, until I nearly wanted to scratch her-."

Prey swivelled on Tigar sharply. "No-no!" Tigar expelled. "But, I did not, Prey. Swear on my glorious death, I did not! Just, I was so surprised. -And they are some pretty to look upon. The Kimaree. Appetizing! But too small. To-to small, compared to our beef." Tigar paused with a frown before continuing. "I swear, Prey, I wish we would not have lost all of our women in that genocide. I miss their stout builds. Never did we have to worry of hurting their meaty bodies during mounting them. Not if they cared if hurt came or not. A little pain they thought, mm—spicy. You remember?"

Of course he remembered, Prey thought. Bengar women had been vigorous. Never in the wide universe would they find their match again. Nor did he try. Their beefy muscle, their height, and their velvety smooth bald heads were lost to them forever. Lost to the Bengar men forever.
-And now he must mount a Kimaree and feign attraction. Feign desires to her, for all to witness. It was his true scheme. His true direction. The reason he threatened the Kimaree providence to begin with. Procreation. Bengar and Kimaree procreation. He had chosen the Kimaree because their women were so plentiful. So proven fertile.

"Tigar, order the Bengar legions to hold their ships in position over all major townships of the Kimaree, while I attend to my duty with the princess-concubine." Prey shifted his broad shoulders beneath his obsidian shoulder armor. "Seventy two hours should be sufficient, and I want a feast in forty-eight hours. Order all first astringents to attend. It is there that I will display my princess-concubine of the Kimaree."

"No, Prey!" Tigar exclaimed in surprise. "You intend to ritualize her?"

"I intend to mount her. I intend to breed her." Prey paused with grim purpose. "I intend to own her."

Five clicks later, Prey paused outside the entrance to his quarters on board the Bengar first command ship "Rager." He understood that the Kimaree women thought Bengar men to be offensive looking beasts. At least this is what his ambassador had stated for the breakdown in negotiations. It was the reason that he and all he commanded in Bengar warriors were posted threateningly over the Kimaree providence on the planet Ishtar.

Some beneath his command thought this engagement was just another war over mineral rights. The planet Ishtar did contain substantial quantities of the compound used to generate their ship's warp drive capabilities. However, that was an inconsequential reason for his purpose here. In his way of thinking, there were only two who would ever decipher the true reasoning. Himself for its invention and his ambassador for its implementation. Even though his first intentions of peaceful means had failed, he still intended to gain his final goal.

It was ironic—or perhaps brilliant that he could hide his true goal. A goal that should be obvious to both worlds that were involved. Yet would never be, because of whom he was. What he was. A Bengar warrior. No one would think above the reason that he was here to conquer. When instead he was here to meld.

Would the Kimaree concubine behind these doors find him abhorrent? Would she hide her disgust in the belief that she was saving her race? Would it matter? He had not demanded willing. He had just demanded her. He had never seen her before, and only seen virtual images of two Kimaree women. He had not found them completely distasteful, simply different.

He was procrastinating and he knew it, however, what he did next was crucial. So crucial, it involved the continuation of his race. Slavery or companionship? That was what he must decide in the next several moments. Or perhaps a combination of both. He needed this princess-concubine willing—or to at least appear to be willing. He needed to display what charms he could find in her favorably, so other Bengar male's might-. Hiss-.

-The retractor door before Prey slid open suddenly and he saw the lithely fingered hand poised in motion that had done it.

Perfect, Shybell Lee thought. He was perfectly male, perfectly muscled with a smoothly bald head that was uniquely arousing and he carried the full lips of a sensual male. She was astounded once again at the sight of a full-grown Bengar male. She had been told—lead to believe that Bengar males were frightful looking beasts. The stories she had been told were of brawny misshapen structures, looking more like beasts than males. Toughly hewn muscle? Yes. Misshapen? No.

This one was as arousing as the other, Tigar—only this one was much more so! Especially with his amber eyes surrounded by a rim of sapphire in each iris. She could not say that she liked the marks upon his rugged angular face. A male's hard powerful face. Yet the markings made him no less appealing to her inclination.

She purred. Instinctively, she sensed his abundance of the masculine aura, drawing her immediately . . . irrevocably. Why the lie? This male was heady . . . He was intoxicating beyond her understanding. Why had the men of the council of Ishtar, mourned her? Why had they reacted as if she were being sent to the stone mountain of the dead? Why had she spent agonizing hours preparing herself mentally for the horror, so she would not react abhorred to him, who was her new master?

It was maddening and crazy to comprehend, because this fate she would gladly embrace! There was only one conclusion she could come to in this astounding moment and that was that no Kimaree women had ever seen Bengar males first, or this mistake would not have been made! If indeed it was a mistake?


Chapter Two

Shybell knew this one before her. She knew his armor, his stature, . . . his entrance into what must be his quarters. He was called Prey Hunter. He was her master now.

Slowly she drew her long gold-painted fingernails in a languid gesture up over her sleekly round hips, stretching her back, arching it in a feminine and feline way as she hummed approvingly low in her throat. The Bengar's reaction was beyond Kimaree male. He scented her. Purely masculine to her feminine. Oh, he was rough and potent! She flipped her silky hair back over one shoulder in a slinky gesture of her head as she posed, licking her pulsating lips. That pulsation was a reaction from her female hormones, being drawn into a tingling awareness by his fiercely masculine presence.

"Where do you go?" Prey Hunter demanded. His voice was a rumbling bass tone that slithered tantalizingly up her spine. Shybell arched her body more, then she turned with a slow hip undulating movement, to sway back into the room with a laughing murmur.

"To find you . . . perhaps," Shybell replied huskily, peeking over her shoulder at him, through the bangs of her sable-colored hair. She paused before a pile of big fluffy pillows she had arranged on the end of his circular bed. Still peeking at him, she lay down amidst the pillows, posing for him. Her short top was red silk, her panties were a bit of scarlet lace, and the bells on her toes tinkled. She rotated her bottom upward in a mating gesture, while she sprawled on her side. "To find what was promised . . . perhaps," she purred throatily.

Prey Hunter was angered and it heightened her awareness of his maleness to excitement! Because he was also engaged . . . aroused against his will perhaps. Anger and passion, what a heady mixture. She could do nothing less than appreciate it, because her hormones were also engaged, and her will was theirs.

Perhaps later, when her hormones no longer held her so enthralled, then she would learn to be frightened of his girth, his height. Of the way his shoulders and chest expanded as he entered the room. Of the graven planes of his face shadowed with ebony tattoos. A strip of tightly spaced alien lettering across his forehead and under each eye, making the amber color of his eyes more startling and predatory. She was his prey as he circled her—and she stretched sensuously, enticingly amid the pillows.

He came at her from behind, his armor gone, his massive chest bared. This she only knew because she could feel it as he pressed her forward into the plump pillows, laying his large calloused warrior's hand to her squirming behind.

"Umm," she purred, raising her bottom upward into his broad palm, arching her back and stretching her arms over her head. "Touch me, warrior," she hummed.

"Do you even know which one I am?" he growled. "Do you even care?"

Suddenly, he flipped her onto her back roughly and straddled her. Taking her breath away. He was nude and his male organ was huge, of an incredible length, and shiny-virile in its ruddy-pink presentation to her. His arms, his chest, everything about him was mountainous to her. Yet he did not hurt her, even as he ripped the silk of her top, baring her lush breasts to his seething gaze.

"You are mine," she moaned enticingly, bowing her body in an arc beneath him, until her soft belly cupped the steely meat of his turgid organ and she felt the heat of it sear her tender flesh. "Ouu—mm," she moaned heatedly.

"You are nothing, but a bitch in heat!" he rumbled, rubbing the wide column of his long penis against her belly.

Shybell stilled instantly with her body becoming rigid. She was shocked! She was horrified . . . hurt. Yet her hormones were raging against her, even as she fought them desperately. "Get off of me!" she shrieked suddenly—and then she scratched Prey Hunter's biceps as she tried to buck him off of her. Yet he was an avalanche of bone and muscle on top of her!

"What insane game is this?" Prey thundered, in a sound so deep it reverberated frighteningly through Shybell's chest as he caught her wrists together in one hand.

"Let me go—let me go!" Shybell screamed, wigging beneath him helplessly. Then suddenly Prey Hunter was gone and Shybell crawled up on her hands and knees. Her angry frightened tears were making her pant as she tried to see where Prey Hunter was so she could get away from him.

Then Shybell saw him—Prey Hunter stood at the end of the bed glaring down at her. He was completely nude with tanned colored skin that was tight and bulging with muscles. Not a patch of hair covered his towering frame. His spacious hands were fisted on the sinew of his hips and the towering mast of his fully engorged penis was poised rigidly between his powerful thighs.

Shybell imagined she could see pulsing rage in the thickly banded column of Prey Hunter's jutting sex, as she fought her desire before the sight of its drawing potency. And with her hormones inflamed because of his male presence, she nearly succumbed to its lure. She arched her back downward, crawling on her hands and knees backward, with her breasts swinging free as tears of desperate need scorched her cheeks. Her warrior moved forward and she hissed, crawling back on the bed to stand at its head.

"I would rather die than take your male weapon to me, Bengar whore!" she cried crazily.

She was frightened now and passionately torn by the sight of Prey Hunter's masculine splendor. But she was not a bitch in heat! She would only take this one male ever . . . or die! She had never in her life reacted to a male like this, yet she knew that it must be normal. Her female hormones were coming alive and reacting to his male ones . . . her mate!

Prey made a deep growling sound. No one called a Bengar warrior a whore and lived! He was angry—frustrated more likely. For several moments it had seemed as though his task would not be as difficult as he imagined. He had even been aroused. He still was aroused, just looking at the Kimaree's incredible breasts.

Yet, they were small. How could it be that he was aroused by the sight of these firmly rounded balls of flesh? Only the Kimaree's curving breasts had half-inch mocha colored spikes that jutted at him with a stain of feverish rose. Enticing him. The Kimaree's hair, which he thought to find distasteful, was long and soft looking. It was a rich coffee brown color with a luxurious sheen, and the ends of it feathered over her tight little rounded ass.

"You would sentence your race to death by denying me?" Prey finally uttered, stalking his large frame up onto the bed.

The bed jostled with his weight as the Kimaree tried to dart away from his advance. But of course he was faster, and she was very petite of height, this Kimaree of his. He was forced to bend, so that he could grasp her with his forearm around the small of her back. She struggled futilely, as he lifted her diminutive frame, imprisoning her against his chest. Instantly the hard spikes of her furious nipples poked into his heavily muscled chest. He'd never touched anything as soft as a Kimaree before.

"Do you deny me?" he snarled, lifting her body easily upward along his chest. Her nipple spikes scrapped his tougher flesh hotly, until his cocksram was jammed along the slit of her cunting covered by only a strip of red silk. There was a strange liquid dampness there.
"No!" she panted, clawing at his bunched shoulder muscles as she gazed down at him through the skeins of her sable colored hair. Her eyes were liquid with tears. They were an emerald color with golden feline rims. "I am not a bitch in heat!" she hiss furiously.

This was why she defied him, Prey thought angrily. To call a female his bitch was of the highest compliment. Although, he would not allow himself to think that he had meant it that way. He owned her. She would obey him. Only for a moment, he had nearly desired her, in her teasing and highly sexual mood. "You are my bitch!" he growled. "And if you fight me, you will not win!"

His Kimaree shrieked at him then, like a wild cat with her shapely limbs struggling within his grasp. He hissed in response and tossed her onto the bed beneath him. She landed as he planned, on her stomach, and he came down over her as she futilely tried to scramble up on her knees to escape. It was a puny effort. A meaty Bengar female would have been his equal, but this petite Kimaree was no challenge.

It even amused him for a moment, as he grasped the edge of scarlet cloth covering the crease of her ass. He used only this fragile piece of material to hold her aloft with her knees off the bed, until her upper body fell in exhaustion.

"You disgust me!" she hissed breathlessly, with her ivory shaped legs sprawled on either side of his knees and her arms flung outward above her head.

Prey's muscular frame tensed at this insult, as he snarled, "And you disgust me also, little Kimaree."

His Kimaree whimpered in hurt beneath him, turning her face into the bed cover—and it completely surprised him. Did the she not think that he had some emotion also? She had said the same to him. "What will you do to me?" she whispered.

"Mount you and breed you," Prey muttered as he grasped the edges of scarlet silk at her hips and began to pull them downward.

"Breed me!" she gasped, and then, she surprised him completely by shimming forward so quickly that he was left with only a scrap of red silk in his hand. However, she did not go far, but rolled onto her back, propping on her elbows to gaze up at him. "You would breed me, warrior? Nothing was said of breeding."

His Kimaree had coffee colored curls on her cunting! Prey could not reason straightly for a moment. He stared at the rich curling brown hair between her thighs, which did not cover her tender looking peach-colored slit beneath. He had never seen such a delicate, yet lush shade of peachy-pink on a cunting before. Bengar women were ruddier—they were meatier. Prey shook his head, scraping a hand over his smooth baldness. Still, his gaze returned to the Kimaree's creamy white nudity beneath him.

"It is an honor," he said slowly with his gaze traveling the entire length of his Kimaree. "A Bengar warrior chooses when he will have an heir. And I chose now!" Prey grasped his Kimaree's fragile white ankles in his large hands. The little Kimaree yelped, gazing up at him warily, turning her knees to the side. But he held on.

"Could we speak, warrior . . . master?" she purred throatily, tilting her head to the side. Her dark hair spilled over her breasts, until only the rosy mocha colored spikes of her nipples showed through the dark skeins. Her emerald eyes enticed him with a sultry slant. She was a changeling with her swinging moods, and Prey found that he could not anticipate what she would do next. In their short time together, there was not one ounce of predictability in her Kimaree personality. It heightened his attention, and his wit, and he had not overlooked the fact that she had called him master in that sweetly purring voice of hers. The sound of which even caressed his heavy balls.

"Since you have acknowledged me as your master, speak," Prey muttered, resting back on his heels. He rubbed his thumbs over the delicate ankles of his Kimaree's small feet, while his gaze followed the rounded contours of her nude buttocks.


Copyrighted©Allure Books2001

To read more of this erotic story and many new and original titles, we welcome you to visit our site at www.allurebooks.com. We sell exciting and sexually explicit novellas in the Regency, Medieval, Present Day, and Futuristic genre. Come join the fun!