by Aubrey Cara
Jor mutters something about a prophetic pussy, and I resist the urge to snarl at him.
“Is it truly your wish to seek out the Unity Council?” Banx asks. His thick arms are crossed over his chest, his legs braced wide. He looks imposing, but I doubt the great Monrok could look anything other than formidable.
“Yes, that is my wish.”
“And ask them for what? Their protection? Your freedom?”
“Yes.” Even veran have rights and I am strong enough to demand mine. It took getting beaten, thrown out of my home and left for dead and then sold off planet to Monrok to show me my strength, but it was there all along.
“Even from us?” he hedges.
My breath catches. My new Monrok masters hadn’t been a factor when I set my course. But now...do I want to be free of them? A confusing jumble of emotions swirl through me. “If you wish to be rid of me by then.”
“What do you wish?”
What do I wish?
It’s not a question I’ve ever been asked. I siphon through all my answers, not wanting to give away too much.
“I wish for us all to be exonerated peacefully.” I know it’s not the answer he’s looking for, but it’s the only one I’m willing to give at the moment.
“The Zapex have no right to come after you,” I tell them. “You are not guilty of anything. But if we continue to run and hide, we’ll look guilty.” These Monrok are honorable. I will not take that away from them. “I want to stand in front of the Unity Council and tell them my story.”
And that they must make moves to protect themselves from my people.
“And if they don’t believe you? Or more likely, don’t care?” Jor asks, ever the distrustful cynic, even when we’re on the same side.
“Then at least you will have gotten your fill of me,” I say throwing his words back in his face because what else can you say when you may be going to your death?
JOR
Banx has reset our coordinates, but I take no pleasure in my win. It chafes that the veran is my only ally. Her fighting spirit is impressive. Alluring. Just as tempting as her voice and lushly built body. The little Zapex fucking makes my lifebringer harder than saluvian quartz. That chafes even more. She calls to some kindred something inside me that rises up, wanting to protect her. Honor her, a fucking veran.
The duplicitous little baggage is hiding something. I do not forget her plea to go to Pacbar when we departed Ak’ba. She knows something she is not telling. The fact that she neatly maneuvered Tawn, Banx, and Ast to get her way shouldn’t make me want to rut her all the more, but it bloody well does.
Which only makes me all the more disgusted with myself.
It almost makes me want to tell Banx to turn around and head to Kadeema. Fuck our brethren and the few innocent females who have been collected on the planet.
I still can’t believe out of all the females in the universe, Banx, Tawn, and Ast have fallen for a veran. She may be the most delectable bit of flesh my cock has ever wept for, but she’s still a Zapex. How have my brothers forgotten this?
Ast is already foolishly gazing at the female as if she’s the only thing that exists in the universe. Tawn and Banx have both pulled her close, cupping her face and kissing her as if she’s so fragile she may break into a million pieces.
She’s not fragile. She’s a fucking Zapex. Veran or otherwise, that’s what she is at her core.
“May I lie down? Maybe bathe?” she asks in that sultry-as-a-warm night voice. “I’ve never phased before, and I do not feel well.”
“I’ll take you,” I hear myself say, every foolish instinct in me rising to care for her.
Her surprised gaze meets mine as I grab her arm with more force than necessary.
“I’ll go with you,” Ast says, glaring at me with disdain.
I return the look. “Afraid I’ll get lost?”
“I also have need of a bak,” he says, gesturing to his messy groin.
Sana’s face goes a shade of blue so deep, she’s nearly purple. I wonder if, like a human, her blood vessels dilate with rushes of emotion like embarrassment. I’m illogically annoyed Ast has caused her discomfort. So much so, my cybernetics have to work to calm me.
Tawn and Banx share a condescending look I’m all too familiar with. They’re deciding whether or not to intervene. I’m surprised they’re not trying to claim some time with Sana for themselves.
“Tawn and I will take the first shift,” Banx says.
Tawn’s brows go up. “We will?”
“We will,” Banx firmly reiterates. “Ast can take your place when he’s done in the bak.” His heavy-lidded gaze slowly trails from the dewy apex of Sana’s thighs to the lush mounds of her breasts. The poor aheh reaches down and adjusts the erection outlined in his pants. “Worry not. We’ll all have our time with her.”
It’s Ast’s turn to scowl at Banx, but he knows he can’t say anything. It’s only fair and right.
I pull Sana in until the warmth of her round ass presses against my ready cock. “It seems it’s my turn with you, veran.” Her wide black gaze appears wary as she looks up at me. “Come along.”
I notice Banx give Sana a nod as if to reassure her it’s safe to go with me. She visibly relaxes against me, and I want to punch him. I do not need him serving as mediator between me and our reluctant female.
Sana’s chin comes up as I leave the control room. She walks beside me down the passageway, her shoulders defiantly back. She acts as if I lead her to her death instead of a cleaning stall and lush sleep platform. Yes, I’ll be fucking her, but we all know she can take a cock. If she’d taken Ast’s cock with any more enthusiasm, I’d be in need of a change of pants.
I palm my tortured erection, giving it a sympathetic squeeze. Soon enough, he’ll be getting relief.
Sleeping quarters are on the same floor as the control room, so it’s only a matter of navigating the corridors before we’re at my chamber. We all have separate rooms on this ship. I’m not used to this or the opulence that seems wastefully impractical, but it is a Zapex made ship. A ship we purchased with some Suluvian quartz we stole from a Zapex mine.
A smile tugs my lips. We made a lot of money off that quartz.
Still, it seemed wrong to purchase a Zapexian vessel, but there are no crafts with higher technology or quality.
There will come a time when Monrok technology will be the most sought after. For now, we settled on tweaking a few things. Enhancing the phase dynamics and acceleration. We also had to make sure there were no tracking devices and that the ship would obey the commands of no other than the four of us.
When we get to my quarters, I press the keypad so the panel slides open. Ast hovers on the other side of Sana and moves to follow her into the chamber. I bar him with an arm across the entryway.
“Your presence is not required here,” I tell him.
“Not here for trouble.” His stance is casual. His voice solicitous. “Just going to help our mate bathe.”
The fact he referred to her as our mate does not bode well. She is a veran. We purchased her in an open market. At most, she is a fucktoy. A pet.
How am I the only one who understands this?
“If anyone is going to aid her, in bathing, it will be me. There are other baks on this ship. Find one.”
Ast’s heated gaze tracks down Sana’s lush form, causing her to flush a darker hue once again. “Why waste resources?”
“It’s never been a concern before,” I grit out, ready to punch him in his smug face.
“You’re being territorial,” he postulates.
“Just claiming my time.”
“You’re going to have to learn how to share.”
“Says he who has his well-satisfied lifebringer flapping in the air.”
His hard cock is even now smugly pointing at me.
I give the appendage a sharp slap and square off silently, waiting for him to throw the first punch.
“May I go inside, master?” Sana’s sopor
ific voice tingles over my senses.
Before I can answer, Ast tells her, “Go ahead, little one.”
My grip on her arm tightens. “She was asking me.”
I wait a tick then release her arm and motion her inside. I follow her in, and not even turning, I press my hand to the door sensor so the panel slides shut in Ast’s face, and smile at his muffled curse.
The veran hovers just inside the room, her bewitched hair undulating in waves around her, but her eyes are cast down. Her delicate hands are neatly folding in front of her, managing to defiantly shield her prophetic pussy from my view while also appearing submissive.
“You are a mythical creature sent here to tempt me,” I mutter. She’ll likely lure me to my death.
She flicks her gaze up to mine then back down. I step into her space and back her against the wall until her diminutive form is shadowed by me. I like that she is small where I am large. Soft where I am hard. I do not think I would want to rut a female as large and powerful as I am or one who tries to dominate me.
Yet…I miss her fire. Her fight.
I tilt her chin up, but her gaze doesn’t move higher than my chest.
“Has your boldness deserted you, veran?”
“Yes, master.”
“That’s unfortunate. I preferred you bold.”
This time, her fathomless black gaze reaches mine, but she remains silent.
“Sana, my deceitful little veran.” I run my thumb down the warm column of her throat to where her pulse wildly thrums. “What secrets do you hold?”
Her pulse jumps, but she doesn’t answer, and I didn’t expect her to.
Her scent is maddeningly, like nhu oil and shendi flowers, but I wonder at all her scents. If she drops her mind shield, will I scent an arousal that matches mine in fervor? Or will I scent her guilt?
This docile creature is sweet, but I crave something more. “Stop blocking. I want to scent all of you.”
She sucks in a shocked breath, conflict warring in her stormy gaze.
Blocking and mind shields are an ingrained ability to both Zapex and Monrok. Zapex are known to be able to read thoughts and emotions through touch. What Monrok sense isn’t nearly as tangible as full thoughts or memories, but we can fully scent a broad spectrum of emotions. Dropping your shield is essentially handing over your power.
And that is exactly what I’m asking from her and she knows it.
“What is the matter, veran? I gave you a command. I am your master. Do you not believe you should submit to your master in all things?”
Her nostrils flare, and her eyes spark.
There. There’s her fight.
“What’s the matter, you don’t like submitting to a Monrok? Are we beneath you? Or is it just me you don’t like as your master?”
Her lips stay stubbornly shut. That’s fine. I cup one of her breasts, testing its weight and responsiveness…waiting.
Bending down, I run my tongue over the pulse at her throat and up to her jaw. I want to taste every inch of her. Her pulse. The curve of her waist, swell of her breast, and the welcoming valley between her thighs that now frustratingly reeks of Ast.
I cup her there, my touch rough. She gasps as I explore the soft petals of her sex, so warm, so wet. The scent of Ast’s essence once again rises up between us, and I suddenly want to punish her for smelling of anyone but me.
It’s illogical.
Possessive.
I lift one of her thighs and spread her open. She stands there passively, letting me do with her as I wish, and it irrationally irritates me.
“Do you want me to touch you?”
She says nothing.
“Do you want me to take my cock out and claim you, right here, where we stand?”
She averts her gaze, and I smack the wall by her head. Her gaze jolts back to mine. She doesn’t have to lower her shield for me to see the fear in her eyes.
It makes my cock twitch, but I don’t want her fear.
I want her fight.
“Fight me.”
Her brow scrunches.
“I thought you were a powerful veran? You will not drop your shield or fight me?”
Defiance blazes in her black eyes. “No.”
“Do you think to disobey me?” I say this though I relish her defiance.
With my free hand, I smack her core in a hard quick spank.
Her back bows on a gasp. She makes a grab for my wrists, but her grip in no way stops me from spanking her cunt over and over.
I bury my fist in her hair, pulling her mouth to mine, but then her thighs snap closed over my other hand.
“Open,” I command, shoving three fingers punishingly deep.
She cries out, her hips twisting. Her thighs tighten on my wrist.
“Open now.”
Like a blow to my chest, the air comes alive, knocking me back. Emotions, pain, pleasure, fear, confusion. They swirl around me, bombarding my senses all at once. I stumble a step as she emits for me.
She sags against the wall, panting, as if lowering her shields took strenuous effort. Or maybe it was my touch she found overwhelming. I didn’t believe she would do it. She’s lowered her fucking shield, and I can scent all the emotions she had been hiding from me.
My chest swells, and my cock weeps with new want.
I yank her up against me, crashing my mouth over hers, once against tasting all she has to offer, trying to sort through and decipher my exact effect on her. She’s a willing participant in the mating of our mouths but does not cling to me as she did Ast as he rode her body to completion. Her hips do not writhe in longing against my erection.
The scent of her fear and confusion are eclipsing her arousal, and I growl my frustration into her mouth.
I don’t know why it’s important. We already own her, but I want my possession of her to go beyond skin deep. I want to be etched on her bones and imprinted on her senses. I want to claim her in all ways. I want her to crave me.
The thought sends me reeling.
I slap the panel for the bak and roughly shove her in.
“Wash the stench of travel and Ast off you,” I snap and close the panel in her stunned face.
Fuck.
Never has my control been such a tenuous thing. I punch the air. My swollen cock aches. I should have just given her what we both want. My cybernetics slow my pulse rate and evens my breathing.
With jerky movements, I kick my boots off and strip away my clothes. I walk over to a wall panel on the far side of the raised sleep platform and pull out large and small sets of hover cuffs.
I am not at the mercy of some veran fucktoy.
She is at mine.
Sana
One of the priestesses who trained me spoke of the contrary master. He who wants everything and nothing from you. There is no way to please such a master. You must only endure.
I have never experienced a being as contrary as my new Monrok master Jor. And I have never experienced such uncertainty in how to please someone. Even with Keela, I knew what appeased and what would send her into a rage.
The uncertainty shakes me.
Trembling, I let the wash cycle buffet me. The bak’s sensor is set for a much larger being, and the cleansing mist cycle actually stings my skin. The warm air of the dryer knocks me around; my hair swirls in all directions out of my control. When it finishes, I sigh in relief, but hesitate, my fingers hovering over the large button that will open the panel door. On the other side, my contrary master waits for me.
The remembered sensation of Jor forcefully slapping my sex, over and over again, rockets through me, making my knees weak.
I stare at the release button on the wall waiting to be pressed. Squaring my shoulders and closing my eyes, I let out the breath I’ve been holding and push the button. The panel slides open with a whoosh of cool air, making my skin pebble. The buds of my breasts tighten.
I open my eyes and take an instinctual step back.
My new warrior master stands, facing me, i
n all his glory at the foot of the platform. Arms crossed over his chest, his mighty cock so swollen it appears as angry as the man it’s attached to. Moisture beads at the tip as I stare.
Heat prickling my cheeks, I jerk my gaze to his face. The lights in the chamber are dimmed, casting the scarred half of his profile in shadow. Rather than making him appear more approachable, it only adds an extra menacing quality to his glare.
“Come out here, veran.”
Endure. The word echoes through my mind in the whispered tones of the priestess. I can do this. I am veran. I was made for this. Shaking off my nerves, I glide forward sensuously with a gentle roll of my hips. My hair snaps with agitation and nerves, and I force it, too, to calm and flow out in undulating waves.
His hungry gaze tracks my movements, and I wonder if my charms have ever been so appreciated. It helps me get some of my power back. Until I see the cuffs resting on the end of the platform.
He picks one up and dangles it off the end of his finger. “Did your old master ever use these?”
I tremble. “Not on me.” Master used them when breaking in new gearan. Their eerie ethereal cries would ring through the house. But that had been master’s goal. He didn’t like if he couldn’t break them. The only one who seemed to escape such torture was Pippen, but Pippen had always been special to master.
“Come here, veran.” When I move forward, he shakes his head and points at the floor. “On your hands and knees.”
Unlike most Zapex, I do not believe myself better than a Monrok, but this kind of subservience is beneath me. I may be a concubine, but I am not a pet or fucktoy. I am a gifted veran. If I am on my knees, it’s because I choose to be there. My master may have used my body, but he never tried to humble or debase me.
Gritting my teeth, I slowly sink to my knees and drop forward onto my hands. I can’t stop the angry snaps of my tresses, now. I’m too agitated as I crawl toward the arrogant Monrok, I have to call master.
Having never crawled or been degraded in such I way, the effect is…unexpected.
