T’Kan
Her breeding slit devours my diijo, squeezing it in a vice. Her walls are tight around me, warm, and unbelievably wet. I slam my diijo inside her breeding slit over and over, each thrust more forceful than the first.
Everything about her arouses me from the soft moan sounds she is making in the back of her throat to the way her onyx skin glistens with perspiration, giving her a beautiful glow.
She is mewling desperate words now. Something about how it feels too good. She will come again if I do not stop.
I do not stop. Am unable to stop. I take her with rough strokes, until she begins to scream with another arrival.
And even then I continue to fuck her, my hips driving into her breeding slit fast and unhinged.
This female is driving me to the brink of madness and there is nothing I can do to stop it.
Zinnia
The predator on top of me is moving faster now, his hips surging in and out of my pussy in a pleasure explosion, until with a great hiss, he pushes into me one last time. Deep…so deep…I can feel every ridge of his cock pulse against my pussy’s walls right before he spills inside of me.
It’s his release, but a third great wave of pleasure washes over me. Melting my bones. Making me wonder if it’s possible to die. To die from ecstasy.
I don’t die. But it takes me a long time to recover. A very long time.
Even after he lifts off of me, I continue to lie there. Dazed and confused, only dimly registering his movements around the mats. Or the sound of his body armor and pants falling to the floor.
He picks me up. Then cradling me in his strong golden arms, he carries me to the cleaning box.
He must think I can’t stand on my own, because he climbs in with me, keeping me nestled against his chest as the cleaning box sends waves of heated light over the both of us. Like we’re one being instead of two.
Eventually…eventually I’m able to form words.
“You shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have…we…we shouldn’t have done that,” I choke out, raising my brown eyes to his violet ones.
He stares back at me. His expression as unreadable as the squiggly lines and dots on all the appliances.
Then he clicks and hisses several words I don’t understand. But his voice is precise and slow. Like he’s telling me something he wants me to commit to memory.
T’Kan
I understand every word she says, understand her denial of what just happened between us. And it angers me.
“I am a great warrior, the Xar of my planet. Yet, I tried and failed to resist this. To resist you,” I tell her, even though I know she cannot comprehend my words.
I grip the back of her neck and press my thumb against her windpipe, applying just enough pressure for her to understand the seriousness of what I am about to declare but not enough to obstruct her breathing.
Lowering my head to meet her pretty brown gaze, I inform her, “I care not what you believe should not have happened. I tried to resist you, to end this illogical thing between us, but failed. You have ruined me, hu’man female. And that makes you mine. I will make sure you understand that as I now do by the rise of the next sun.”
Zinnia
I’m still wondering what he said when we return to the large sleeping mat.
The covers on top of the mat are now a crumpled mess saturated in places by dots of semen.
It looks like a crime scene. And I should feel disgusted. With him. With myself.
But a new heat washes over me as I remember just how hard he took me. As hard and relentless as one of those screaming guitar songs that I could never sing along with like my Fleetwood Mac. What had that genre of music been called again?
Death metal. Yes, that was exactly how it felt. Like getting bred by a death metal song.
And I hate that kind of loud, angry music, but for some reason my pussy clenches at the memory. Slickening at the thought of what he did to me. Wanting it again…
I don’t speak this thought out loud, but the alien goes dangerously still as if he has heard my every thought. Loud and clear.
His eyes darken and his gaze drops to my pussy. Wet again, despite the waterless shower we just took.
“Don’t look at me like that.” My heart seizes. With fear? With anticipation? I can’t tell. The line is so blurred. But I shake my head at him. “We shouldn’t…we shouldn’t do that again.”
T’Kan
She is aroused again, her scent strong and inviting, yet she still somehow believes that she can deny me. I cock my head to the side and give her a long accessing stare. “What makes you think you have a choice, hu’man? What makes you think you can deny this anymore than I can?”
Her eyes are wide almost like she understands me but I know she doesn’t. She shakes her head. “I don’t think we should. Not again...”
That word is starting to irritate me. Should.
There are a lot of things I should have done since I first laid eyes on her. I should have whipped her for the crime of running. Should have napped her neck when I discovered that the first breeding did not take.
Or perhaps I should have let her fend for herself against that k’vani. Left her alone instead of becoming more and more obsessed with the very idea of her. But I did not.
I push her down on the mat with a gentleness I do not feel. Now that I have properly fucked her and begun the breeding process all over again, there is no turning back.
She is my stolen treasure. And I am never letting her go.
Chapter Twenty
T’Kan
“Oh moons…stop…stop, it’s too much.”
My treasure’s moans are like music to my ears as I run my tongue over her curvatures, sampling the salty sweetness of her skin. I cannot get enough of her as I continue my descent to the place I enjoy the most. My favorite place.
Her sweet hot.
I throw her legs over my shoulders to give me better access to my sweet hot…delicious, warm and wet. Ready just for me. I lick the juices from her inner thighs and her breeding slit.
I then part her thick folds and hold them apart. I stare, not just because it is mine now that I have given in fully to the mind rot, but because it is like a dark pink flower. Beautiful and inviting with a scent more enticing that anything grown on Xalthuria. I press my thumb into the engorged button in the center, already knowing how she will respond.
My treasure squirms. “What are you doing to me? You shouldn’t…”
There is that distasteful word again….I squeeze the little nub. She bucks her hips in response and mews helplessly. Letting me know she is pleased, despite her protests.
Releasing the little button, I lower my head and swipe the length of her sweet hot with my pointed tongue. So addictive. Will I ever get enough of it? Of her? It is doubtful.
“You can’t keep doing this to me…we’ve got to…stop this…” she says, even as her hands find my hair and grip tight.
Her insincere protests for me to stop only spur me on to lick her harder, to suck her little button into my mouth, to shove my tongue deep into her hot wet hole.
“Oh moons! Oh, moons!”
Ignoring her cries, I relentlessly devour her, tongue fucking her with a ruthlessness I usually reserve for the battlefield.
This is battle, I decide. I battle to conquer, to consume and to claim.
She screams as her juices squirt in my face. My treasure has reached her arrival, but it does not mean I will stop. No, I keep going, pulling my tongue out of her sweet hot so that I can lap up all of her juices, refusing to miss a single drop. It is my reward and I won’t squander any of it.
I even taste the tight little ring below her breeding slit. Not one bit is safe from my exploration.
“I can’t take it! I think I’m going to die.” Her cries become desperate but her sweet hot contracts as if it needs something more, making a liar out of her.
I know what she wants and I am more than ready to give it to her.
I lic
k her clean. I want to keep consuming her, but my diijo is painfully hard. I move to a sitting position with my legs beneath me before grabbing her by the waist and flipping her on her stomach.
Instead of positioning my treasure on her hands and knees which is standard for breeding, I pull her against me, her back flush to my chest and her knees straddling mine. I take care with her scarred leg before once again raising her to the point where her sweet hot is lined with the tip of my cock.
I can feel her heat on the broad tip of my diijo. Dripping and clenching. Begging me to enter. A cruel part of me wants to hold her there until her mouth begs, too. Turn her stops into do not stops. But then her hand finds my diijo, fumbling to get it inside of her.
Electricity shoots through my ridges at the touch of her hand. One touch. But my restraint is broken. Of course, I will give her exactly what she needs even when she denies it.
I lower her slowly, then grunt with satisfaction when she is fully seated on my diijo. But she once again begins to protest, “Oh moons, what am I doing? Should stop…should stop…but I feel so…full… so good.”
Gripping her hips, I lift her up just enough for the tip to remain inside of her before slamming her back down.
Her head falls forward on a moan, and I slowly repeat this movement several times. We both watch my deliberate taking of her, the way her greedy breeding slit swallows my diijo on every stroke. Spilling more and more of its juice upon my ridges when I lift her up.
“Do you really wish to stop?” I click-hiss in her ear.
She does not understand my question, but she answers it when she whimpers, “Yes…yes, just like that…feels so good, honey.” Her muscles contract around me, pulling me deeper than I thought possible.
Honey…the strange endearment thrills my hearts almost as much as being so deep inside her. I will reward her for her small confession.
Bringing my hands up from her hips, I squeeze her soft round breasts, wondering if she will enjoy my touch here awake as much as she did asleep. The way her nipples come alive beneath my thumbs tell me the answer to that question.
I am very close but I want to be inside of her for as long as possible. I move my hand up to span her throat and give her it a slight squeeze, as I remind her, “You are mine, treasure.”
“Can’t hold back anymore.” She pants, the walls of her breeding slit practically choking me. “Feels too good.” She moans.
I tighten my grip on her throat just a little and she screams, releasing a warm gush of juices around my shaft. And by the stars…my hips buck uncontrollably, my own release kicking up my shaft. I shoot ropes and ropes of semen inside of her, more than I thought possible for my body to produce.
She throws an arm back and hooks it around my neck as she gasps for air. I don’t want to release her but I notice how her body droops against mine. I have exhausted her. My chest swells with masculine pride.
Reluctantly I pull her off me. My now deflated diijo slips from her sweet hot, and I place my treasure on her side.
As I settle next to her, she turns to face me. She strokes my face and then…her lips are on mine.
I do not know how to react, especially when I feel her tongue press against the seam of my lips. But I find myself liking this strange pressing of mouths and tongues. Quite a lot….
I take her lead, moving my lips over hers and then pushing my tongue forward to taste the inside of her mouth. It turns out to be almost as delicious as what is between her legs.
“Thank you,” she says against my lips. “That was unbelievable.”
So this is pressing of lips is a thank you? This is very different from the way Xalthurians express gratitude, much more decadent than a quick touch to the top of one’s ridges. But I do not wish to stop.
Cupping her face in my palms, I thank her in return.
We both must be very grateful. We end up thanking each other for a very, very long time that night and that gratitude leads to more fucking, which leads to more thanking. Eventually we end up fucking and thanking at the same time. My treasure lying on her side with her ruined leg draped over my thigh and her head turned to mine as I breed her below and thank her above.
We fuck and thank well into the morning hours. Fortunately I have been given a couple of days of leave before the council meeting to discuss the Kaidorian ultimatum. We end up sleeping midway through the day, and even that is not enough rest for my treasure. I must carry her to the gamma ray shower to wake her up properly, so that she can be fed and reenergized.
However, she limps even heavier than usual to the table after I set out first meal, and though she lowers herself gingerly into her chair, her faces seizes with pain when she fully settles into the seat.
“It’s okay,” she says, correctly reading my ridge ripple of concern. “Just a little too much fucking.”
She makes an exaggerated motion with her hands, circling one and pushing the index finger of the other back and forth into the circle. “I’m just sore.”
She is in pain…
Now that I have given in fully to the mind rot, the thought of her discomfort is no longer something I can abide.
“Can’t we go back to bed?” she asks when I pull her from her seat and lead her to the door after breakfast.
Knowing she won’t understand my answer, I simply pull her into my arms, cradling her so that she can benefit from my superior body heat. We have just entered the very hot season in the royal city, but this side of the planet remains bitterly cold, and it snowed last night. I will steal a coat from A’Ry the next time I am at my uncle’s house.
After a quick stop to my flyer for a photon gun just in case we encounter any animals on our walk, I carry her to a waterfall a short distance from the cabin.
I set her down beside the fall’s reservoir or water. As it turns out, hu’man feet are also much more sensitive than those of a Xalthurian. “Cold! Cold! Cold!” she screeches, grabbing her scarred leg with one hand and hopping up and down on the other. Several words about sex and feces fall from her mouth, and I do not believe it is in reference to pleasure or biological need.
She shakes her head vociferously when I explain with gestures that she should take off her clothes and get into the waterfall’s pool. In the end I am forced to remove the shift myself before tossing her into the pool. She screams more of the sex and feces words as she flies through the air.
But when she comes back up after a short time submerged beneath the water, she is smiling.
“Oh my moons, is this a hot spring? I read about one of these once in a book. Thank you! This is exactly what I needed.”
Exactly what I needed.
Though, I have suffered no ill effects from what we did last eve, I remove my clothes, so that she can thank me properly.
My treasure is much happier on the way home. Without bidding, she tells me a word song about “feeling good.” There is no “luv” in this song, and it is rather nonsensical. For how could the birds and sun know how she felt? But despite my having failed to conquer the Ceremony Mind Rot, my hearts beat happily as we make the return trip to my cabin.
That is until I hear a branch break. Covering my treasure’s mouth, I stop and scan our surroundings. There in the distance, I spot a k’vani kitten, weakly pawing at a fallen nest, most likely in search of eggs. It looks haggard and starved.
Zin’nia removes her hand from my mouth and whispers, “That looks like a baby-sized version of the cat that tried to kill me.”
Yes…yes it does. Based on its size, it can’t be more than a couple of months old, but k’vani kittens are normally kept at home in a den until they are at least six months. That is why their soft, pure fur is so prized by hunters.
If this one is out and about searching for food on its own, Zin’nia is correct, it must the baby of the one I killed weeks ago. With its mother gone, its barely surviving, living off of whatever it can scavenge off the land.
At this point it would be a mercy to put it out of its misery. I raise my
weapon but my treasure shouts out, “No!”
Scrambling from my arms, she gets in front of the kitten, her hands held up to stop me. “Please don’t kill it. It’s just a baby.”
Despite her sensitive feet, she does not shout sex and feces words this time. In fact, as soon as I lower my photon gun, she limps through the snow over to the kitten and picks it up, cradling it in her arms the way I cradled her in mine.
The thing is so weak, its head lolls and it barely seems to register the hu’man who has picked it up. It has several scrapes and even claw marks on its body, and I wonder how many other animals it had to fight to survive even this long.
Zin’nia shakes her head, water springing to her eyes. “This is all our fault. We’ve got to take her home and feed her. Please.”
I shake my head at her plea. This kitten is a wild animal which will grow up to be a very large beast—that is if it survived, which does not seem likely given the glazed state of its eyes. I want to tell her this but one, she still does not understand my language and two, when she looks up at me with those big brown eyes, I find I can deny her nothing.
I allow her to keep it.
When we get back to the cabin, she starts to clean its wounds with the same medical supplies and feeds it, all while telling the kitten it can go its own way in melody.
Even with the translator chip, I can barely understand her word song, but it is beautiful, nonetheless. And the way she nurtures the kitten gives me visions of how she would care for a babe.
My babe.
No…I do not want a betrothal with any of the Louxos females. There is only one female in the universe I want. The one who makes me forget my duty with only a smile and a bit of word song. The one who has made this warrior happily cede to mind rot.
“I will find a way for us to be together, my treasure,” I tell her, interrupting her song.
At the sound of my words, she looks up at me over her shoulder. She does not understand me. I know she does not understand me. But the way she smiles at me, beautiful and bright. It feels like she does.
His To Steal Page 9
