Alien Embrace
3.5/5
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About this ebook
Amelia Ryan fled Earth’s fanatically religious government to live quietly among the aliens of Plasius. Her life of peace shatters when a three-man clan from the planet Kalquor kidnaps her and holds her prisoner.
With their people poised on the verge of extinction, the Kalquorians are determined to have Amelia for their mate. Amelia is equally determined to escape. But when her body thrills to the ruthless domination of her captors, she finds herself surrendering to desires she never imagined possible.
Re-edited and expanded edition.
Mild BDSM including captive/forced seduction, anal play/intercourse, bondage, Dom/sub play, homoerotic situations (m/m), and multiple sexual partners (m/f/m/m).
Tracy St. John
Tracy St. John is the author of science fiction romance, including the bestselling Clans of Kalquor series. She lives in Georgia with her husband and son, fending off mosquitos and running from hurricanes. Before settling in to write fulltime, she worked in video production, in front of and behind the camera. She was often cast as the gun-toting bad gal, getting handcuffed in the end. She hopes that hot alien cops will intercept those videos and investigate. Soon.
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Reviews for Alien Embrace
41 ratings4 reviews
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The book showed a side of humans we know still exists in the dark. I am 100% sure there is much suffering that we do not see, but that doesn't mean it does not exist. If you have trouble with this then it's not the book for you. Either way I think it was a good read even with the touch towards darkness
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I felt I had to write a review as the only other review is fairly misleading.
This book is based in an alternative universe where Earth women are 2nd class citizens and a cult like religion dictates they shouldn't like sex. A woman caught having sex outside of marriage is sent away to work camps, where they are torchered and killed. This includes if they are raped as it is seen as them insighting the men to rape them. That is where the rape mentioned in the previous review comes into play. It is part of her back story. It is touched on in maybe 3 chapters and not in detail but it helps to explain the character.
There is a lot of sex in this book and more kinky than not. If that's not your thing, don't read it but I personally enjoyed the book. The story was reasonable and there was plenty of erotic sex scenes. If you like alien erotica this is definitely worth a look. - Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Wow. I'm pretty sure Amelia is going to have her hands, and every possible orifice, full every single chance possible. That's a huge change when you are going from a strict religious world to a very much more sexually open world and then one where menages are the norm and expected. Very awesome. I loved this book, and I'm looking forward to reading the rest of them.
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5I hate giving any book a one star rating and as most of you know it is really rare that I breakdown and do it. However this book is going to get one because to the detailed rape scene of a 14 year girl. That is bad enough but the author goes on the continue the abuse for over a month. There is also the she asked for it mentally from a secular fanatic religious government that sent me over the edge. I was having a hard time with the book before this but it just made me sick after I read the chapter with the scene in it.
2 people found this helpful
Book preview
Alien Embrace - Tracy St. John
ALIEN EMBRACE
Clans of Kalquor Book 1
Tracy St. John
© copyright September 2010, Tracy St. John
Cover art by Erin Dameron-Hill, © copyright June 2013
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s
imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or
events is merely coincidence.
Smashwords Edition
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
To my beloved readers, thanks for everything.
TABLE OF CONTENTS:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 1
You’re being watched,
Ambassador Vrill whispered to Amelia.
Of course I am. I’m the guest of honor and the only Earther here, the redhead thought. Still, Vrill’s excited tone raised goosebumps on Amelia’s bare arms. She checked the fiery red and gold gown that had been custom sewn for her there on the planet Plasius. It managed to cover her where it should — barely.
How had Vrill convinced her to wear the almost nonexistent dress? The Plasian must have drugged Amelia’s drink before they’d gone shopping. There was no other explanation.
The neck of the sleeveless gown plunged to below her navel. The fabric was whisper-thin. She had to be careful her movements didn’t shift the barely-there bodice to expose her entire chest to the crowded room. Since she was amply endowed, the meager bit of material was constantly endangering Amelia’s modesty.
The halter of the dress would have left her entire back naked but for her hair. Her tresses were caught back in glittering combs. It flowed in a waved auburn river to her waist. Amelia found the feeling of her hair on bared flesh wickedly seductive. It was an unfamiliar, if titillating sensation. She usually wore her hair in a ponytail. With a shirt on her back.
Beneath the waterfall of hair, the shadowed cleft of her buttocks disappeared into the intricately laced train, which made up ninety-five percent of the gown’s fabric. It was constructed from heavier material that swept the floor. When Amelia walked, the drag of the train pulled at the dress, making the front stretch taut against her torso. No one had to guess how she looked naked. Every curve of her body was blatantly obvious.
The worst part of the dress was its scrap of a skirt. The hem in the front was barely a scandalous inch below her sex. Her long, golden-hued legs were framed by the cascading scarlet and gold.
Dress codes on Plasius were definitely different from morality-driven Earth. The seductive Plasians knew much about allure and cared little for modesty.
Who is watching me?
Amelia whispered to Vrill. She regarded the crowd assembled in Saucin Israla’s home. High-ranking Plasians of the government and art guild swarmed the ballroom, flirting with each other. In darkened corners where overstuffed couches lined the walls, movement indicated coupling had already begun for some lovers. Their soft moans provided a background hum to the other partygoers’ easy conversations. An occasional cry informed anyone who cared that bliss had been realized. To say Plasians were not scandalized by public displays of affection was putting it lightly.
The room was for public functions but managed to create an aura of seduction. Amber-colored fabric swathed the walls. Golden lighting globes drifted across the ceiling, giving the room a dreamlike quality. The gentle illumination provided shadowed areas for amorous activity.
The globes also highlighted the fantastic but pornographic mural on the ceiling. Amelia had snuck many a glance at the painted figures cavorting overhead, each passionate scene more explicit than the last.
Despite the subject matter, there was no doubting the talent of the unknown artist. If Michelangelo had painted orgy scenes, Israla’s ballroom ceiling might have been his work.
Amelia’s scan of the room met many gazes, and all nodded in respect. The party was for her, Plasius’ first Earth artist-in-residence.
Vrill’s black marble eyes smoldered. Amelia recognized her friend’s arousal with amused embarrassment. The willowy Plasian’s bronze skin glistened. The thick olive mane on her head, more akin to fur than hair, moved as if in a breeze. Her body heat released the perfume globules woven in her scant ice-blue gown. The air grew heavy with the sharp scent of spice, Vrill’s preferred aroma. Her voice rose to its usual husky tone.
You’ve caught the attention of a Kalquorian clan. If stares could burn, you’d be on fire.
Kalquorians! Amelia froze. For a moment, she forgot to breathe. Are you sure there’s a Kalquorian clan here? Israla didn’t mention any attending.
I’d know and want a Kalquorian if I were blind.
Vrill’s dark gaze probed. That puts you in a spot. Earth refuses to treaty with Kalquor. Your people speak against them at every Galactic Council meeting.
Amelia swallowed. Her reply sounded defensive to her own ears. Our leaders consider them a threat, especially to Earther women.
Vrill smirked. That’s because your leaders are male, and they don’t want their women running off to join clans. You would, if you had a taste of what Kalquorians offer.
Her expression grew concerned. Would your government make you leave Plasius if they knew a clan was here?
Not if it’s just one clan and I stay away from them.
Amelia heard the uncertainty in her own voice.
"Good! I don’t want you to go. Don’t worry, my friend. If you decide to get to know the Kalquorians, I’ll never tell." She tittered.
Where are they, Vrill?
Only a forest of tall bronze Plasians greeted her gaze.
Vrill pulled Amelia a few steps to the side. They’re in the middle of the room, a little behind you and to your right.
She pointed.
Amelia twisted her head toward that direction. Her neck muscles creaked. She saw the men staring at her. Even from the distance of half the immense ballroom, it was impossible to miss the monumental differences between the Kalquorians and Plasians.
The three aliens towered over the tall Plasians. Where the Plasians were soft, thin beings, the Kalquorians appeared sculpted from granite. Where the Plasians were slightly curved, the Kalquorians bulged muscle. The Plasians broadcasted their readiness to receive pleasure. The Kalquorians looked capable of taking it by brute force.
Vrill whispered in her ear, Someone’s thinking naughty thoughts. Your skin is as red as your hair.
Amelia flushed with heat. Her gown’s scent wafted over her; the aroma of a summer night’s breeze after a thunderstorm. Fresh, new, and somehow electric.
The Kalquorians looked like Earthers who’d eaten steroids from birth. Reports claimed that they had fangs that folded to the roofs of their mouths when not in use. Supposedly, a Kalquorian’s bite sent an intoxicating venom into its victim, leaving him or her drunk and incapable of defense.
Otherwise, they were similar to Amelia’s species. In fact, the resemblance was shocking. It was whispered, although not around those in authority, that Kalquorians and Earthers might have a common ancestry.
According to historians, an alien race had fled a doomed planet millennia ago and settled on Kalquor. Theories abounded that some of the Kalquorian ancestors had also settled Earth. For believers, too many similarities between the two races existed for mere coincidence.
Such ideas were taboo on Earth. Anything that contradicted the Church’s edicts was illegal to consider, much less discuss. Earthers were God’s chosen people. Kalquorians were viewed as poor copies, perhaps even emissaries of Satan.
Amelia privately prided herself on her more open views. Once off Earth, she’d discussed the possibilities of Earther/Kalquorian species ties with her alien friends. Her small circle of Plasian associates had been shocked and delighted to meet an Earther willing to entertain the idea in depth.
Amelia reveled in the freedom from Earth’s religion-based regime. She’d seen corruption and damage done in the name of God on her home planet. While she still believed in a higher power that would punish evildoers, she felt it was more kind than vengeful, more forgiving than damning. It was this view that allowed her to happily reside on Plasius. Despite the sexual decadence of her Plasian hosts, she tried not to judge them.
With a brief glance, Amelia noted the Kalquorians had black hair, wide foreheads, and strong jaws. Their skin was dark, resembling Earthers of Middle Eastern origin. She appreciated the strength of their features, too masculine to be attractive in Earth movie star fashion. Hollywood’s current crop of leading men were sometimes prettier than their female co-stars and androgynous enough to pretend sexlessness.
She turned from the clan’s penetrating stares. Her clinging scrap of a dress provided no obstacle to their evaluating gazes. The erect buttons of her nipples pressed against the tissue-thin fabric. She blushed anew at the sight of her body’s brazen spectacle and crossed her arms over her breasts. She shivered.
I didn’t realize Kalquorians were so…big,
she said. Are clans always made up of three men?
Usually. The Dramok is the clan’s leader. That one’s wearing a government insignia, so he’s an official of rank. A member of the Royal Council, I believe. He’s wearing the black formsuit with blue trim. Those formsuits are nice, aren’t they? You can tell exactly what you’re getting. That Dramok has a lot to offer a lucky female.
Vrill licked her lips.
He has a commanding presence.
In the brief glance she’d had, his piercing gaze seemed to search her very soul. She shivered again and wished she could control her physical reactions. What about the others? What are they?
That monstrously huge Kalquorian wearing the green tunic is an Imdiko, the clan’s nurturer. Their breed is rather rare. If his face weren’t so sweet, he’d be scary, wouldn’t he?
Amelia agreed he had a kind expression, but he was still a frightening specimen.
I don’t know that I’ve ever seen anyone so big outside the Tragoom race. Imagine wallowing all over him.
Vrill leered. He has an Interstellar Medical Council badge on his shirt. Only the top doctor from each planet can sit on that council.
What about the third man? The shortest one?
Amelia almost laughed at calling someone who easily topped six feet tall ‘short’.
He’s a Nobek, the member charged with the protection of the clan. He’s wearing a Kalquor Global Security formsuit. Very impressive credentials on the entire clan,
Vrill purred. The situation must be dire on Kalquor if such an important group is searching off-world for a Matara.
Matara? Amelia wondered. Her excellent grasp of the liquid Plasian language omitted that term. It sounded too guttural for Vrill’s tongue. The ambassador had almost barked the word.
Vrill fluttered alabaster eyelashes in the Kalquorians’ direction. She flicked her tongue over her lips again. It’s nice to see them here scouting for a female.
Amelia started. I heard Kalquorians and Plasians aren’t physically compatible.
Our species can enjoy certain pleasures together, but Kalquorian men are too big to penetrate Plasian females in regular intercourse. Of course, there are always lovely things to do that don’t require that. I once used my mouth on a Kalquorian to—
No, Vrill,
Amelia interrupted. Her face flushed.
The Plasian blew an exasperated breath. You’re so repressed. Anyway, I’m betting that clan isn’t here for a Plasian fling. I think they’re more interested in finding out what the Earther race can do for them.
Amelia’s temperature dropped from hot to cold. They’re here because of me?
Her friend smiled a long, slow smile. Why don’t you ask them, my prudish friend? Here they come.
What?
Amelia’s head whipped around. Her neck cracked, sending dull pain through her arms and hands. The clan was indeed walking in her direction, their attention riveted on her. She turned back in time to see Vrill disappearing into the crowd.
Vrill!
Excuse me, Amelia Ryan?
She started, and not just because he spoke to her in her own language. The voice rumbled through her very bones. Her whole body vibrated.
She resisted responding to him. She wanted to run away, tried to walk off, but the Kalquorian’s commanding tone swiveled her towards the trio. She had always obeyed authority, even when it put her life in danger. Now was no different, though the man was not of her species.
As she turned, the clan slid into her line of sight: the bare, muscled arm of the Nobek, his wide formsuited chest, and his other arm. Then the sleeved, bulging arms and chests of the other two filled her vision. Her gaze lingered over corded necks, strong jawlines, and three pairs of eyes.
She was reminded of the concord grapes that grew on the fence surrounding her childhood backyard. The Kalquorians’ sharp eyes were that same cool blue-violet color. Their catlike pupils were slits.
Earth would hate for me to speak to them. They say the aliens are degenerate, wanting Earth women for unspeakable sexual games. What kind of games, I wonder?
Pinned by their stares, she couldn’t move. Despite her yammering thoughts, her muscles remained locked statue-still.
The Kalquorian standing in the middle, who treacherous Vrill had identified as the leader, spoke again. Amelia Ryan?
Her answer floated from her, a distant dream. I’m Amelia Ryan.
He bowed. His sleek, shoulder-length hair swung forward. His eyes never left hers, and she was riveted by his stare. He’s handsome. They all are. Amelia was surprised. With the trimmed mustache and goatee, the Kalquorian reminded her of an old movie version of a musketeer. None of the trio looked like the demonic creatures Earth had warned about.
His voice, despite its strength, was soft. It enveloped her in warmth. I am Dramok Rajhir. This is my clan. Imdiko Flencik,
he motioned, and the largest Kalquorian bowed as well, a hopeful smile gentling his strong features.
Flencik’s ebony hair fell well below his shoulders in spiral curls. He was clean-shaven, his visage not as narrow as his leader’s. Amelia had never seen anyone so tall. He was also the bulkiest of the trio, but as Vrill had pointed out, his expression was the gentlest. His smile offered real warmth.
And Nobek Breft.
The Nobek echoed the others’ bows. Though he was the smallest of the group, he still stood about half a foot taller than Amelia’s five-feet ten-inch frame. His hair swept from his face in waves. Amelia caught herself wondering how it would feel if she stroked it. His mustache and goatee were fuller than Rajhir’s, softening the hard planes of his stern but attractive features. His predatory demeanor suggested he was more dangerous than his larger companions. He looked her up and down, as if wondering how tasty a snack she might be. Amelia could barely restrain a shiver at that evaluating stare. Her heart galloped as if it would jump out of her chest.
They watched her. They were waiting for her to respond. She struggled for something to say.
Um…hello,
she said.
Still they waited. Their expressions seemed polite, even patient. Amelia took courage from that.
I’m sorry if I seem rude.
She smiled. I’ve never met Kalquorians before. You’re rather imposing.
Rajhir’s brow creased. He looked at Breft and spoke in staccato bursts. Breft, looking concerned, answered in the same language, his gaze darting from the clan’s leader to Amelia.
Rajhir and Flencik exchanged dark looks, and Amelia’s stomach turned with sudden fear. What had she said to upset the Kalquorians?
Flencik spoke in a halting voice as deep as Rajhir’s, but gentler. Your language to us gives confusion. Says Breft our appearance you are threatened?
Breft interjected, his tenor diplomatic but lined with steel. Flencik’s grasp of your language is not very good yet. He meant to say, does our appearance threaten you?
Oh…well…
Amelia struggled for a tactful tone. Threaten isn’t quite what I meant. By calling you imposing, I meant you’re taller than most Earth men. More muscular.
Her face heated at the words. She prayed they didn’t think she was flirting with them.
The clan relaxed, and Amelia mentally sighed with relief. If the Kalquorians found her language confusing, landmines waited within any conversation.
Rajhir smiled at her, the expression warming his stern countenance. Our people have misunderstandings, yes? Earth does no like Kalquor, but we have no harmed any Earthers.
Speaking of landmines. Amelia’s stomach knotted again. Why was she speaking to them? Earth would have her tongue cut out if they saw her right now.
She couldn’t seem to keep her mouth shut though. Your culture is very different from ours. Unfortunately, Earthers have a long history of not accepting what they don’t understand.
Her statement prompted another exchange between Rajhir and Breft. After this, Rajhir smiled down at her again, as if about to confer a great favor.
We will discuss Kalquorian culture with you. We show you Kalquorian ways. When you learn the pleasure we offer, you will understand and accept us. Mataras do no—
he paused and looked at Breft. "Grolic?"
Fear,
the Nobek said.
Rajhir nodded. Mataras do no fear clans.
Matara again. Now Amelia realized why it had sounded strange coming from Vrill. The word was Kalquorian. What are—
Saucin Israla’s aide slipped beside her, interrupting the question. The lithe Plasian female inclined her black-maned head toward Amelia before raking greedy eyes over the clan. Once again, Amelia felt herself flush in the presence of overt sexuality. Would she ever relax in this atmosphere of gratification-seeking decadence?
Saucin Israla requires Amelia Ryan,
the aide purred. Message given, she glided away, casting glances over her shoulder at the clan. Her fur waved as if to beckon them to her.
They ignored the Plasian, their attention riveted on Amelia. She smiled a nervous apology. I must go for the presentation. Please excuse me.
Amelia turned from the clan, both relieved and disappointed to be escaping. She feared the aliens. Earth’s government despised Kalquorians with near violent abhorrence. Yet, she didn’t lie to herself about enjoying their attention. Her trepidation, oddly enough, fed her interest in them.
She was fascinated by how much they resembled her own race. They were so unabashedly masculine. Even repressed Amelia had to admit a stab of desire. No wonder Vrill had become aroused at the mere sight of the Kalquorians.
She’d taken a step from the men when a hand slipped around her waist. Before she realized what was happening, Rajhir pulled her backwards and held her against himself. She gasped as the hard muscles of his thighs, abdomen, and chest pressed against her from behind.
Flencik and Breft moved to surround Amelia, blocking her from the view of the other guests. She stood frozen in shock. Rajhir’s palm flattened against her slender belly, hot against the exposed skin. The heat went straight to her sex, making her gasp.
She couldn’t pull free. The Dramok stroked her throat with featherlight pressure. His fingers drifted down, sliding over a round breast and cupping it. His forefinger and thumb massaged the tip of her nipple. The sensitive flesh hardened into a hungry nub and strained against the thin material of her gown. The heat of his touch shot from her breast in a lightning bolt to her sex.
The surge of undeniable passion snapped Amelia’s paralysis. She gasped and reached to slap him away. Breft caught her hands and pressed them to his lips as a smiling Flencik stroked her cheek. Rajhir switched his attention to her other breast, slipping inside the dress to pinch the naked nipple. Breft gripped her hands effortlessly, his lips curling under his mustache in a grin as she tried to pull free. She thought of screaming, but the idea of the Plasians seeing her being ravished by the trio made her cheeks burn with humiliation. The amorous Plasians wouldn’t understand what the fuss was about. Sexual play in public was as natural to them as breathing. Many at the party locked in such embraces already, some indulging in outright public sex. She doubted any would come to her aid. They’d probably cheer the Kalquorians on.
Flencik whispered, You beautiful be. We show you we like.
I don’t — I don’t —
Amelia couldn’t think of what she was supposed to say.
It is all right,
Rajhir breathed in her ear. We hide you. No others to witness pleasuring. You government no discover this. None here will know of our little game.
Amelia certainly didn’t want to be seen in this manner. If Earth found out…she shied from that notion. The consequences were too horrible to contemplate.
She stopped struggling, reluctantly surrendering to Rajhir’s demanding caresses and praying that no one indeed would see her humiliation. Her unlawful behavior, punishable by torture and death.
Good, Amelia Ryan. We wish to pleasure you. Show you we make good friends.
Her heart thundered in her chest as the clan’s leader rubbed each breast in turn, testing their weight and fullness in his heated palms. Flencik’s thumb brushed over her parted lips, drinking in the sight of his Dramok pulling aside fabric to expose her taut nipples, which flushed rose pink. An appreciative growl emanated from Breft, who brought her fingers to his lips. He sucked each slender digit into his wet, warm mouth.
Even as she trembled with fear and closed her eyes in shame, Amelia’s insides sent honeyed lava to creep a molten path down her thighs. Want pulsed through her at the brazen ravishing. As always, her body became a traitor to her better sense, finding sensuality where it had no right to. She tightened her legs together, willing the flow of moisture to stop. Panties had been impossible to wear tonight. The back of the dress dipped too low and the fabric of the gown molded to her skin so smoothly that underwear would have shown with blatant lines. The Plasians already regarded her as ridiculously uptight. When she’d dressed for tonight, she’d gone nude under the gown so she wouldn’t have to endure the snickers and pitying looks. Now she regretted it. What if the men decided to explore her there, discovering the nakedness, the wetness of her sex? Would her uncontrollable desire encourage them to do more than simply explore? Would they take her right here in front of the Plasians?
Flencik caressed a breast when Rajhir offered it up to him. The Imdiko licked his finger and whirled his saliva over her areola. Amelia responded against her will. She arched, filling his hand with her breast. Had anyone ever touched her with such gentle knowledge? She moaned. Please…
Rajhir’s breath warmed her ear. You are in so great of need. This is wrong you suffer. Your society keeps your people from pleasure nature intends.
I — I have to go,
Amelia whimpered, wishing she sounded stronger. She tried to pull away. The Kalquorians held her still, as if to show her their physical power. Another bolt of desire shot through her, along with the instant surrender that had plagued her throughout her life. She trembled and quieted again, not fighting, waiting to see if they would set her free. Only when she surrendered did Flencik tug her dress into place, hiding her breasts with a rueful smile.
We soon speak again, Amelia Ryan,
Rajhir promised.
They released her and stepped aside to let her pass between them. She hurried towards the waiting aide, who smiled at her as if they shared a secret. Amelia’s face flamed anew. The aide hadn’t seen what she’d allowed the Kalquorians do, but no doubt the Plasian knew something had happened. Amelia prayed the moisture between her thighs wasn’t obvious because of the shortness of her skirt. It took all the pride she could muster to not run from the Kalquorians.
* * * *
Rajhir watched Amelia rush through the crowd of Plasian elite. He drank in her lush figure, a pleasing collection of soft, pliant curves. Her auburn curtain of hair swayed, offering tantalizing glimpses of smooth skin bared by the backless gown. The tops of her buttocks were round, the shadow between them