The Commander - A Sexy Alien Invasion Story.

Chapter 7 Commander Bastian

He could have given Kitten more time to run, but the counting was for him, not her. Conditioned with a training game played in his childhood, the count helped Bastian to resist the pull of ancient bone-etched instinct. Primes were born for the chase, coded deep into each cell, the hunt, and the capture. Including mating.

Holding Kitten had created a steel wrapped cord of want from his center to hers, a relentless driving demand to claim, fuck, and mate. Her mind denied him. But her body was ready. The mating fervor had begun for them both.

The fine hairs on his arms and legs reached for her, rippling want and need, desperate for another touch of perfect female skin, summoning his lowest, base animal. Chase. Move. Want. Bastian wanted his cock buried to the hilt inside of his Kitten, his face buried in her pussy; he wanted everything that was Kitten all at once.

Naked, he entered the hall, measuring his step with each breath, forcing himself to savor this moment. Since she ran without caution, he got to enjoy listening to the frenzied sounds of her trying to escape. He could see where her feet slid on the dirty flooring, every beautiful heat signature smear of her progress. She wanted so badly to evade the inevitable, yet it was nothing to get to her-he knew exactly where to go.

Lower mouth wide open in its full, inhuman glory, he inhaled the wake of Kitten's scent following her progress through the school. She'd listened to his directions, searching frantically for the classroom with the permanently open broken door. Musty with outside air, the darker night winking in the corner of the human exit, the escape route waited.

This space held all kinds of refuse, tables, chairs, metal cabinets. Shoved full of things that Bastian had never bothered to have cleared. Kitten found a hiding place in the disaster of it, not understanding what a prime could do. She was smart. He would have brought her down in the mud behind the school if she made it that far.

Here, the trailing glow of her life force was a beacon of red smears and drops to his eyes. Easily followed. Her naked, female shape squeezed tight and silent on top of old trash inside of a large, closed corner cabinet. Clever girl.

Wood separated them. Had it been human made metal, had she not touched so many things on her way to her hidey hole, he might have missed her.

Another time he might tease her a bit, crash about, go in the wrong direction and tear the room apart. Not now, not when urgency gripped him and the thrust of his cock had become uncomfortable. It was too late. Taking the direct route, eyes on the place she hid, he shoved junk out of the way. Some of it bounced off walls, knocking other shit over. He didn't care. No one would dare interupt him.

"Come out, Kitten." He opened the tall door.

Screaming, a metal bar in her hand, she attacked. Jumping down from a stack of boxes and books. Snapping his lower mouth closed, he snatched her from the air. Stuff rocked and crashed behind her, falling to the floor. The metal bar from her hand landed blow after blow. His head. His shoulders. Whatever she could reach.

But there was naked skin in his hands. Bared flesh against his sensory hairs. Fuck. The feel of her. Every one of his alter senses went into overload. He turned while she flopped and failed, beating him with her weapon. Distracted, the path no longer the same, he nearly tripped over the precarious debris surrounding them. Although the strikes she continued to deliver didn't affect him half as much as touching her.

Bringing her down, he buried his face between her breasts, opening his mouth and licking. He dined on her flavor, head buzzing, and cock raging hard, ready to fill her up, oblivious to everything outside of her body.

This fucking woman.

She kicked and screamed in rage, rejecting his touch.Twisting the bar from her hands and tossing it away, he carried her out of the room into the old yellowed lights of the hallway. He wanted her to see him.