by Renee Rose
“I want you inside me.” I press my lips to his. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”
“I want that too.”
He lays me down on my back and stands up to strip his clothes. My eyes widen as he rips off his shirts, his trousers. His cock is so hard and long, deeper purple at the tip. I part my thighs in anticipation, heart pounding.
He straddles me, one strong thigh on either side of mine. “You’re mine.” He grabs me behind the thighs, lifting my legs slightly, then moves one hand to guide his cock to my entrance.
“Yes.” I close my eyes.
“Look at me, Kianna.” His voice is firm.
I blink and catch my breath at his fierce gaze.
“Watch me as I veck you.” He rubs his cock over my entrance. “I want to see your face while I do this.” He’s so thick, that even though I’m ridiculously wet, I feel the friction of skin on skin as he begins to enter my body.
“You’re so tight,” he mutters. “So perfect.” One inch. Another.
My body opens for him as he moves, and although I expected it to hurt, all I feel is pleasure. His eyes seem to flare darker purple as he moves.
He keeps his eyes on mine as he pushes his cock deeply into my pussy, and once he’s almost fully seated, he smiles. Triumphant. He thrusts once, and I cry out, a strangled moan, as a fierce pain tears through me. A second later it’s gone, as quickly as it came.
He stills, examines my face. “Okay?”
“Yes.” I look up at him, entranced. “More.”
“Your wish is my command.”
“I thought it was the other way around.” I gasp as he pulls out, then pushes back in. “Oh.”
“It’s both.” He pumps again, a little harder. Checks my reaction.
I grab his hips with both hands. “Go harder, Mykl. Or do you I need to give you some motivation?” I raise one eyebrow, mimicking the way he did it before.
He laughs. “You’re in trouble for that one, little human.” He reaches down and slaps what he can reach of my ass. Then he pumps me faster, until I can barely breathe.
I reach back and try to grab his ass, although I can barely reach around his body. I’m wild now, pulling at him, digging in my nails, touching him everywhere I can. “Mother Earth.”
I can barely breathe. The feeling inside me grows, and his eyes—so full of emotion I’ve never seen from him—put me over the top.
“I’m going to—” I whisper, as his thick cock brushes my clit.
“Together,’ he growls, his hands strong and hot on my body. “Now.”
I let myself fly into the storm and cry out his name as my body surges with the most delicious sensation of my life. He roars, thrusts again and stiffens, and my entire pussy gets hot with his come. The feeling of his essence inside me hurtles me into a second orgasm, even better than the first. I’m helpless, gone in his arms as I clench my body and gasp, barely breathing, as wave after wave of pure perfection flow through me.
“Kianna, veck, love,” he murmurs, his voice rough and broken.
We adjust our bodies and he wraps his arms around me. My thighs are sticky with his cum, and when I glance down, I exclaim in surprise. “The colors.”
Friends have told me about how Zandian cum is rainbow-hued, but seeing it for myself is nothing like imagining it. “Pretty.” I giggle and push closer into his chest.
“Not as pretty as you.” He has a smile in his voice. He strokes my hair, my shoulder. Like he can’t take his hands from me.
I love how he smiles more since he met me, and that he attributes that to my influence. Furthermore, in the short time since he claimed me, I feel that monumental changes have taken place in both of us.
Whatever was missing in him is now here, the ability to trust me and enjoy me completely. As for myself, I no longer have that nagging feeling that I’m unloved. Instead, the knowledge of my past and my present swirl together, and I have even more of myself available to share with Mykl. The Zandian I love.
“If that’s how you perform, I have to say that I’m very glad I chose you over Arc and Bow.” I preen and twist, reaching up to nip his ear.
“Mention their names once more and I’ll fetch my strap,” he growls and bites my ear in return, and tingles travel down my neck and into my nipples.
If I weren’t so sated, I might giggle and say “ArcandBow” really quickly just to see if he makes good on his promise. Instead, I stretch along his body and run my hands over his impressive triceps. “Who? I do not know these beings of whom you speak. They must be insignificant underlings.”
“Damn right.” He squeezes one nipple gently and drops a kiss on my head. “You do learn fast, little human.” He sounds pleased.
“Ah, finally you recognize the true value of humans.”
I was teasing, but he stills in my arms. Then turns and takes my face carefully in both hands. “Kianna, does that still worry you?” He looks into my eyes. “I swear it, I… love you. I respect all human females, especially you.”
I can see that although he believes this, it’s not easy to say it. I almost want to tear up and put a hand to my mouth as I watch him struggle over the words, the delivery. His shoulders are stiff, his face determined. Mother Earth, it’s hard for these proud Zandians to let their feelings out sometimes once they start having them.
“It doesn’t worry me, Mykl.” I touch his firm cheek, tracing the contours. “I was teasing.”
He nods, solemn. “I assumed so, but I wanted to check.” He’s still tense. “I don’t always know.”
Mirelle told me it gets easier for them all the time, especially with lots of sex with humans. She said she’s got her Zandian males right where she wants them—the perfect mix of fierce dominant owner and respectful, sensitive partner.
Like Mirelle, I don’t want him too sensitive. I snort to myself, thinking of Arc and Bow and their tepid embrace. Good luck to Cressa with all that. Of course, with her, if they feel true passion, maybe they’re as wild and dominant as Mykl is with me. I shrug mentally. Then I push them out of my mind.
“I respect you too. Always have. And I love you. You know that.”
He smiles at me, and now I do feel moisture in my eyes, because his smile is so beautiful. And it’s for me. The thing I wanted so long, the being I craved, he’s mine. It’s unbelievable. A true gift from the universe, right on the solstice, the most magical day of the solar cycle.
“You’re not going to the Outlander Program.” He circles my wrist with his strong fingers. “I forbid it.”
“What if I really wanted to go?” I lift up my other wrist to his hand so he can grip that one, too.
“Do you?” He quirks a brow.
“No.” I flush. “I briefly considered it, when I thought you were going to…”
He nods. “I understand. But you know that program isn’t right for you.”
I frown. “Because I’m too weak?” I stiffen in his arms.
“Relax.” He kisses the side of my face. “Because you’re too smart for it. Your mind relaxation thing? That’s what you need to develop. That’s going to change Zandia.”
“Oh, no,” I say, and I’d wave a hand in dismissal if he didn’t have both of them captured.
“Oh, yes.” His voice is firm. “You know it, too. It’s all right to admit it. That you do something important for this planet. That you have critical skills no one else can replicate.”
My face is hot again. I clear my throat. “I have discussed starting a class to teach it to warriors who need to focus.” I swallow. “Apparently Master Seke is quite supportive and thinks it can be an important training tool for warriors.” I beam. Then I add, “But I don’t want to brag.”
“There’s a difference between fatuous pomposity and genuine pride in one’s quality work.” He pulls me closer and whispers into my ear “And you know what? If I need to use my strap to help you remember, I will do it, Kianna. One of the spankings that might be more punishment than pleasure.”
I fee
l a new surge of moisture between my thighs. “Mykl…” I gasp, reaching down to stroke him. Stars, he’s already hard again.
He snorts. “You’re impossible.” But he’s smiling.
“What about you?” I touch his chest and press lightly. I want to fuck him again, but I need to ask a burning question that’s on my mind. “Are you done with warrior stunts? Will you be content to stay here and do engineering work, or will I have to master you completely and cuff you to the bed and make you into my pleasure slave just so I don’t have to worry about you leaving on warships to dangerous rescues?” I’m joking, but I’m aware there’s a note of desperation in my voice.
“First of all, the one being cuffed will always be you. Let’s be clear.” Then he stops smiling, and looks right into my eyes. “Kianna, you worry that much?”
I nod, feeling tears well up. “Even just thinking about the possibility makes me panic.”
He sighs. “I pushed myself to join that mission because I was so dedicated to retrieving the Zandian female, even though it strained me to the limits of my physical abilities. I recognize that although I was an asset on that trip—partly due to your help—I’m a better fit for work down here. Beneath the stars. Not among them.”
He sounds forlorn, in a way. I suspect that this will be a lifelong struggle for Mykl. One that I’m ready to help him fight.
“Oh, Mykl.” I squeeze his hand. “You and I? We’re in the stars as much as any being. We don’t need to touch them to experience them.”
He examines my face. Looks at me for a long second. Then he nods. “Yes. As long as we have each other, we can be happy here, supporting the ones we love, helping build better fighters.”
“Every star came from somewhere,” I remind him. “A solid base from which it spun off into glitter and light. The base may not be as flashy, but it’s just as intrinsic to the essence of the whole.”
He smiles. “You are wise, Kianna.” He strokes my arm. “I am lucky to have you as my mate.”
“I am just as lucky.”
“Then let us be lucky together, forever.” He kisses me, and I barely have time to admire the speed at which he’s becoming comfortable exchanging meaningful promises. Because his talented, sexy hands move to my breasts, and his cock lengthens, hardens even more to pulse against my hip. My body surges with adrenaline and desire, and I can't wait another second to have him, again.
I don’t know if it’s luck, or fate, or some magic in the Zandian Lights. Whatever movements of the celestial planets brought me and Mykl together, I’m grateful. And I know that together we are going to have an amazing life filled with love. I press my body to his, the dazzle of the solstice lights still imprinted beneath my lids, and as we become one, all of my dreams shine out, happy and bright.
* * *
The End
* * *
Want more? Check out all the Zandian Brides books:
Night of the Zandians
Bought by the Zandians
Mastered by the Zandians
Kept by the Zandian
From the Authors
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Want More? Kept by the Zandian
Check out the first chapter of Kept by the Zandian
* * *
Taisha
I can barely breathe.
If I don’t get out of this supply area soon, I’m going to die.
I can’t feel my legs and my lungs are on fire. I’m not even sure I’m on the right ship. This supply box seemed like a perfect place to hide when I escaped from my Ocretion owner, but once the ship jumped to hyperspace, things settled—on top of me.
Crushing me.
The pallet above me presses heavily on my chest, and my arm is stuck in an awkward position, fist still clenched around the syringe of poison. My pack of supplies digs into my shoulder blades. It’s pitch black and the air is thick and dusty. Only my panic and racing heart keep me going.
The engines thrum and I feel the vibrations in my body—is that the way a Zandian ship sounds, or was my pallet traded to the Falcon ship beside it on the tarmac? If so, I’m in terrible trouble: The Falcons are rumored to be even crueler than the Ocretions.
My mind swims and suddenly I see him in front of me again, the Ocretion guard I encountered as I ran toward the airfield and the starships: His warty thick hands squeezing my neck, his stink attacking my nostrils, making me gag.
“Trying to escape?” His hissing voice is full of pleasure. “We’ll see about that. I will personally oversee your punishment, human slave.”
“No!” My voice is barely audible as I gasp for air.
“The shock sticks will only be the start,” he says, relishing the words. Squeezes harder.
My vision goes spotty, colors flickering, and then I remember the syringe in my hand, to be used as a last resort, and swing my arm upward, hard and fierce, puncturing his thick gray skin.
Closing my eyes and begging the universe to save me.
And miraculously, a mere three seconds later—just like Leylah promised—his hands soften, relaxing like a flower at night. His whole body goes slack until he falls lifeless. A sack of bones and stench.
Suddenly light blinds my eyes. I hear voices, and my body shifts as they lift away the pallet.
I’ve been found.
The voice I hear is low, masculine, and deep. “What the veck?”
I don’t answer, as if staying silent will somehow save me now.
“Who are you and what are you doing on my ship?” He speaks in Ocretion and then repeats it—I assume—in a tongue I don’t understand.
I blink at the sudden light—the first I’ve seen in over two planet rotations. My mouth is dry with lack of fluid. Thank Mother Earth they’ve pulled the crushing weight from my body, so at least I can breathe.
I’m supposed to say something, a phrase I was taught, but my brain won’t cooperate.
Flashes of orange—is he a Falcon? Now all I see is the Ocretion in my mind, squeezing my throat. I scream and fight him off, my pinned arm shooting up, nerves firing. I stab wildly at the air.
“Get off me! Get away!” At least that’s what I mean to say. My voice doesn’t work, though, and the sounds come out like horrible squeals, like wheels without oil. My body starts shaking so badly I can’t control myself. My hand reflexively opens and the syringe is gone, and all of the sounds around me fade into the distance.
“Stars, I’m hurt! My arm. She poisoned me.” The speaker sounds more irritated than injured. Certainly not dead like the Ocretion I killed when I escaped. “Veck. It’s numb.”
Taut voices join in. “Stand by for med support.”
“Secure her and remove her weapon.”
“Assess her for danger.”
I cough and try to focus, but the sounds zoom in and out. Some being grabs me, moves me. I’m limp.
“She’s neutralized.”
“Get this pack on his arm immediately. Captain, tell us what is happening.”
And then that voice, rich and low. “It’s fading now. It wasn’t completely numb because I could still move my fingers. But I felt it. What the veck is in that syringe?”
My words start to return and I cough. Whisper, “I am a human.”
“Obviously,” one of the beings says drily.
“I request asylum.”
“Why did you attack me? Were you sent as a spy?”
That voice.
It’s not the cutting, nasty tones of an Ocretion. It’s… deep and sexy. He moves closer to my face, so close his breath feathers across my skin. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”
I force my lids open and blink, my eyes acclimating to the brightness of the corridor, and I scan my surroundings. The being in front of me is a warrior dressed in white garb, with a sword at his belt. His skin is an even light purple, and h
uge muscles stand out on his lean, tall form. Atop his head are two horns that appear more like appendages than the hard bone of a beast. His jaw is defined, square. His lips smooth and full.
Stars.
He’s breathtaking. Totally different from the Ocretion masters who owned me back on Romon-3. But I thrust those thoughts away—they’re the least of my concerns. The important thing is that he’s Zandian.
I chose correctly when I stowed away. If I play this well, I could save my life.
“I am a human,” I repeat. Then everything starts to fade. Before I lose consciousness, I make sure to repeat the words Leylah taught me, when she made me rehearse every syllable in his language. “I request asylum. I will do whatever you want. Please help me.”
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Read all the Zandian Brides Series
Night of the Zandians
Bought by the Zandians
Mastered by the Zandians
Zandian Lights
Kept by the Zandian
Claimed by the Zandian
Stolen by the Zandian
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