Free Breeder by Cara Bristol

What had begun in discomfort had ended in satisfaction, though incomplete. He’d moved in her slowly at first, but then plunged faster and faster, his pace stirring a need, an inexplicable craving for…more…something more.
    In truth, that desire had germinated when he’d discovered her in the stable. She wanted to gaze upon him, to listen to his voice, to touch him. Have him touch her. And he had. The way he’d stroked her sex had increased those sensations. She’d gotten wet again, the moisture seeping out of her body, dampening her inner thighs. That had never happened until she’d met the Commander. Did it have something to do with breeding? Or was there something wrong with her? None of her sire’s biology books had mentioned wetness. Of course, they scarcely mentioned females at all.
    According to science, males could find a modicum of pleasure in breeding, but the act was always unpleasant, if not agonizing for females. Except she hadn’t found it so. She’d relished the Commander’s hard, muscular body moving inside and against hers. His body hair, rasping against her skin, had sent tingles up her spine. His thrusting manhood had evoked a pleasurable tension and generated more embarrassing moisture.
    Some fluid was blood. She should arise before she further soiled the platform, except the Commander had ordered her not to. Did he mean she should not move from the platform or not leave the room? She understood now why he’d brought her into the domicile. Of course Alpha would not mate with her in a stable. But now that he’d completed the deed, would he send her back?
    She pressed her thighs together. She could be carrying Alpha’s son. Or not. If impregnation hadn’t occurred—or if she carried a female—another mating would be required, an idea that was not anathema. Far from it. Omra opened her fist and stared at the telenium ring. She couldn’t believe Alpha had handed it to her, like it was a pebble found alongside the road, instead of a small fortune. The ring had determined her fate, put her in the director’s sights, made Alpha want her.
    He had left his lock-ring on the platform. Warmth curled inside. The Commander did not need the lock-ring or the nipple insignia to announce his claim on her. His spoken word would be enough—though it hadn’t deterred Sival. But Alpha’s guards had.
    She heard the Commander’s footfall in the hall; then he entered with a cleansing cloth. He perched on the edge and nudged her legs apart. Afflicted by a bout of shyness, she spread her knees but averted her gaze. Her pulse raced; she doubted Protocol allowed for any alpha to tend a female’s hygiene in such a manner. Why is he doing this?
    He dabbed the cloth to her flesh, and she was surprised to see how much blood he wiped away. Her sex throbbed, growing achy with every accidental brush of his fingers. He threaded his ring through her labia and snapped it shut with a final-sounding click . Thicker and heavier than her sire’s ring, Alpha’s would remind her of his ownership with every step. She would never be unaware she belonged to him.
    “Look at me,” he commanded.
    She turned her head.
    “You will tell me if you are impregnated. Will you recognize the signs?”
    She nodded. “I think so.”
    He flattened his hand on her abdomen. Heat spread, and she almost moaned. Whisperflies went wild, and she prayed he couldn’t feel the fluttering wings.
    “If a child is formed, it will attach to you, and you will experience a sharp pain. That will be the first sign. Then your breasts will grow larger and more tender. You may feel physically ill, and finally you will swell.” He drew little circles with his thumb on her abdomen. “Tell me at the first sign.”
    “Yes, Alpha.”
    He frowned, silvery blue eyes darkening. Had she somehow displeased him? Her stomach lurched.
    “Do not—when we have mated, when we are like this—do not call me Alpha. Or Commander.”
    She rounded her eyes. “W-what—how