by Sabrina Kade
The humid air hits my nostrils, and it’s not the heat I love, but that it smells so much more natural up here. Down in the Sidyth lair, they have hundreds of stupid heat lamps burning and buzzing twenty-four-seven, so it’s never quiet or cool. Above ground, the air is sticky but sweet, and I inhale deeply, not wanting to forget it in case this is a ploy, and we’re about to be hunted down for sport.
Opening my eyes, I take in the scenery, surprised at how much it reminds me of home, and the extravagant vacations my parents would send me on as a kid. I wonder if there’s water nearby, and of course, there must be otherwise it wouldn’t be so misty. The surface is like a rainforest; only instead of grey or white mist, the fog is a light purple or dusty rose color. And though the grass is green like home, it’s much more vibrant. It’s almost turquoise, and stooping over, I brush my fingers through the blades, hardly surprised that they’re soft and velvety to the touch. I pluck a piece from the root and hold it up to my nose, taking in the familiar scent that reminds me of the Sidyths – or more specifically – Azan. Why does this whole planet and its inhabitants have to smell like Christmas? It was one of the only times when I was truly happy – mostly because my parents always found a way to come home for the holidays.
Memories of elaborate gifts, too many Christmas trees, and crystal decorations come flooding back, and it’s hard not to get emotional about home, my family, and my parents. I need a distraction otherwise I’m going to turn into a blubbering mess.
Fortunately, something does distract me. Like, really distracts me. As soon as the Sidyths step out of the lair, they rip off their shorts and stand before us in their nude glory under the glowing pink sun.
“What the hell?” Krista screams, though not covering her eyes.
Fugly – er, I mean, Hujun turns to her with a sour expression. I guess he only smiles for Korben and Ellis? “Prince Korben did inform you we were going to sun bask, did he not?”
“Yes, but—”
“This is how we bask in the sun.”
“And what? You got a problem with tan lines?” Mia asks, scrunching up her tiny nose. “Good God.”
It’s almost impossible not to laugh, and that’s when the girls and Sidyths start to split up and pair off like they’re at a middle school birthday party. Some want to see the others at the second lair, and Blythe and Korben handle that together. I’m sure Alaska and Kansas will be hot on their heels to make sure everyone in their little family has been properly treated, if not worshipped. Sometimes I wonder why I was ever scared of Alaska in the first place. She’s hot, but she’s also a big fucking baby who’s all but looking to suck off Mama Arizona’s teat. Weird.
“Do you want to sit someplace private?”
Moisture bubbles between my legs. That voice.
I turn around, and sure enough, Azan’s standing behind me in his naked glory. Good… God. I swallow hard, trying not to focus on his dick standing at full mast yet again. He doesn’t seem the least bit bothered or ashamed of his naked body, and so I try to play it cool despite the blazing hot flush on my cheeks. Azan leans closer.
“Is too warm for you?” he asks in English. “Go back down?”
“No, I’m okay!” I stammer, stumbling away before I have an accidental orgasm in the middle of a damn field. Azan’s eyes widen at this, but he doesn’t reach for me, cocking his head to the side.
That’s when I hear it; a sound so quick and slight I almost don’t notice it, but being around Sidyths, I’ve come to know what sounds mean what.
Slurping. Or sucking. It’s difficult to describe, but I know what Azan’s doing behind that mask the moment I hear it.
He’s tasting the air, and in doing so, he tastes me.
Oh, fuck me twice over. He’s got to know I’m turned on now.
CHAPTER THREE
Azan
I didn’t want to show any interest in any human – or any woman for that matter. I am not a desirable partner. There are many reasons for this, and so, after joining Prince Korben in exile, I was somewhat relieved I would be spared the heartache of being rejected repeatedly by possible mates I wished to have as my own.
I should have known things would not be so simple. Of course, they would not. Not a year had passed when there was not a woman I desired, so why should things be any different with human females? As though being rejected by a Sidyth woman has not caused me enough pain, now I must be rejected by a Human Whore? Ahem – I mean, human female. Woman. Whichever term Prince Korben has decided the most appropriate, the answer will always be the same.
I am not a desirable partner. Not for friendship and certainly not for pleasure.
My brain is the only thing I have. I am happy to not be as simple as my little brother, Dolan, when it comes to anything but women, but my brain has not given me an advantage when it comes to finding a mate. I’ve grown so tired over the years. I don’t want to explain myself. I don’t want to explain my mask, and though almost every woman here is terrified of me, I don’t mind so much anymore. I am used to Sidyth women denying my advances in disgust, and sprogs running away in fear.
But I am surprised by how much I don’t want the golden-haired one, York, to look at me in that way.
Must I be such a glutton for punishment?
Obviously, York feels nothing for me except pity, and I would not be surprised to learn Prince Korben spoke to his large breasted mate and then had her to speak to York.
Take pity upon him. Yes, he is dangerous, but if you give him a chance, perhaps you will not vomit on his feet when he asks you to be his mate. He is used to rejection. Let him have a few days of a woman’s company.
I can only imagine the bargains and promises Korben gave to York that gave her the courage to speak to me. And yes, while I am enjoying every moment of her kindness, I know it cannot last forever.
Eventually, I am going to have to tell her that I would like her to consider me as her Chosen.
Eventually, she will reject me with pity in her eyes and a pout on her full lips.
Still, though, I cannot help but wonder who she feels something for because though I am standing close, it only takes a slip of my tongue to find out York is aroused.
Greatly.
I taste the earthy nectar on my tongue, and her head shoots up, meeting me with that intense gaze, and she quickly grows embarrassed.
Ahh, so she has already picked another and did not want me to find out about it. Perhaps, she will only get her bounty if she is able to keep me happy for a certain amount of time. I want to spar the life out of Prince Korben for humiliating me yet again, but I still cannot allow myself to move away from York. Besides, her arousal smells like the heaviest of rainy days. Surely it is not wrong to enjoy her company for a few moments longer before she ends up in the arms of one of my less complicated brothers?
York licks her lips, still staring at me. Her cheeks are quite red, and despite me asking if she was too hot earlier, she promises this is not the case. I narrow my eyes, fighting the urge to lean in closer to figure out if she truly is uncomfortable in the open air, but she stumbles away from me.
So… it is disgust.
I collect my thoughts and feelings and straighten up fully. She is a tiny one, York, but still considerably taller than the one Hujun shows growing interest in. I wonder, will my ugly brother be able to find a Chosen before me simply because he does not wear a mask on his mouth?
The thought leaves me saddened.
“If you would like me to go, you only need say,” I mutter, hoping I haven’t fumbled up my English around her yet again. English is not my favorite language to speak, though it is one of the top five most popular on Earth. But now I am happy for knowing it, and the main reason for it stands before me. Any women from Earth are highly desirable because of their low intelligence and somewhat familiar features, and so Korben requested me to learn the most popular languages. Eventually, I grew bored and only bothered with English and Spanish, and thankfully, English is the one York feels comf
ortable with.
I cannot imagine trying to speak to her with only a translator.
My head lowers though because no matter how many languages I speak fluently, it will never get a female to choose me. Not because I am ugly, I know I am not, but because of my disease.
Without waiting for an answer from York, I start to turn, disappointed in myself for growing so quickly attached to yet another—
“Wait, you don’t have to go!” Her high-pitched voice pierces the air, and though it’s almost painful, it’s not unpleasant. Human women have much higher voices than Sidyth women, and it goes very well with their features. Where Sidyth women are intimidating and hulking, human women are soft and frail. I worry Hujun will hurt the one he wants if he is not careful, and York is not much bigger. Still, I quickly turn back, surprised she’s asked me to stay.
Has Korben offered her so much?
“You don’t have pity me,” I mutter, keeping my voice low enough that no one else can hear us. I dare to stick my tongue out again, and sure enough, York’s arousal permeates the air. It’s a mist flowing through the air pockets of my mask, and as quietly as I can possibly manage, I lap it up greedily. Damn, she tastes amazing, but I do not want her pity.
“If someone else you want. You go.” Ugh, I need to practice my English again. I sound idiotic, and as much as I want to talk to York in her language, I also don’t want to come across as a sprog. I switch back to Sidese, knowing her translator will let her hear all she needs to know. “If someone else has caught your attention, you are free to go to him. I will be okay.” My pained smile cannot be seen by her, but she appears more perplexed than ever.
Perhaps, her translator is broken? I will have to ask Korben to order her a new one.
“I don’t want to talk to anyone else.” Her words are like a spar to the chest in my most heated mock battles with Hujun. “I wanted to talk to you. I thought maybe you wanted to talk to me too.”
My eyes widen.
“Did you not hear what I said?” I make sure there is not some communication malfunction between us. “I do not want your pity.”
“Why would I pity you?”
My mouth goes dry, and I smile cautiously behind the mask. I do not care for my mask in most circumstances, but I do enjoy that I can hide most of my emotions behind it. Others do not know when I smile or frown. They only see my eyes and assume I am grouchy. That is fine by me. I do not like to speak very often, and the only reason I am a translator is that learning so many languages was appealing at the time.
“I do not know what Prince Korben has promised you for paying attention to me, but you do not need to feel obligated to entertain me. I will let him know you have fulfilled your promise and I was happy to have you around. Please…” My voice turns strained, as though turning her away is the last thing I want to do. Because it is.
“Azan, Korben hasn’t promised me anything. What are you talking about?”
I stare at her. Hard. It’s a shame that after so many years of rejection, I can hardly find a reason for a woman to talk to me other than pity. Whether it be Sidyth or Human, I am still utterly perplexed by York talking to me as though she’s not disgusted by my hidden face or broken English.
I’ve never had a woman want me before, but I’ve always wanted one of my own. As soon as I saw my older brother, Kydaris, finish his ascent to mandom, there was nothing I wanted more. I loved the idea of a woman squeezing me until I came. I loved the idea of watching a Sidyth woman carry my sprog until she burst at the birthing scene. And I loved the idea of seeing a woman holding one of my sprog. I wanted everything when it came to women, sprogs, and families.
So of course, I never got a chance.
No matter how beautiful or ugly, rich or poor, smart or stupid, I could not get a woman to choose me as a mate. My disease makes women nervous. They worry my affliction will be passed to their sprog and they will have to live in the same way I have. And yet, I never gave up. I was always convinced there was a woman who would look past my mask and the disease lying beneath it. I had the nerve to become excited about Prince Korben purchasing a flock of humans. Twenty humans! Human Whores, no less! Surely, one of them would be willing to deal with me, but I didn’t have the slightest idea how to act around them, let alone court them to be a possible Chosen.
And so, after Korben’s instruction, I watched the one called York from afar. At first, it was only because of his orders. York has a reputation for being cleverer than most humans, and Korben, knowing that I am also very intelligent, assigned me to keep watch. Make sure she had no plans to escape. And that’s all I did at first, but the more I watched York, the more I learned about her. And the more I learned about her, the more I wanted her.
I chose her though I could not have her.
My cock was very angry at first but eventually came to accept that, once again, I would not be able to claim a woman as my own.
But now, something more dangerous than rejection perfumes the air in my mask.
Hope.
A possibility for a mate, and she stands before me, slick with arousal.
I’m still not entirely sure what to make of York’s kindness, and I’m still not convinced she’s not aroused for another male. After all, why would this tiny, golden-haired beauty be interested in me when there are much better choices readily available to her? My little brother Dolan, who has more experience with females than I could ever hope to have. Exer, Drozass, and Cade, who despite their youth, are attractive, experienced males. Yes, she has to be attracted to one of them.
“I do not like games,” I say in a low voice, hoping my hiss comes across, but not in a way that will scare her away entirely. Human women are a fragile group, nothing like the Sidyth women who have refused me in the past.
“I am not playing games, Azan.”
My cock twitches when she says my name. Oh… this feels quite new. I’ve been attracted to females back home, but none ever said my name and made my cock react this way.
Her. There is no other for me. I choose her.
The realization hits me like a million spars, and no matter what happens, I must make her see I will be a good mate and worthy of her choosing, because despite being human, York is not stupid. So many stories said human women were nothing more than dumb animals, fit to give pleasure with dull, blank expressions, but York has never worn stupidity on her face. She is smart, and yet, she still talks to me. Maybe that should also make her stupid, but I know beneath my mask, I am a fine looking Sidyth with full lips and a fully scaled tongue.
If not for my disease, I could pleasure day and night without pause.
“Hey, is this one bothering you?” Cade slithers next to York and me.
I can hardly contain the menacing hiss escaping my lips. He’s trying to take her away from me. No. Worse. He thinks I am bothering her and she is not interested in me. My eyes narrow, ready to spar, but to my surprise, York is the first to speak.
“Move along, pretty boy. We’re doing okay here.”
If humans could hiss, I have no doubt that’s what York is doing, and I can’t help but puff out my chest with pride. Perhaps, she is not afraid of me. Perhaps, she is not doing Prince Korben any favors.
Cade’s yellow eyes widen in surprise.
“Are you sure?” He looks skeptical.
“I’m sure,” York says. “And that’s all that matters.”
And then Cade’s gone, and I swear I’m about to lose control.
York slowly turns back to me, a tentative smile on her lips. They are a beautiful shade of pink, so much like the fog and mist on this rainy planet. Thank stars and moons I’m not wearing shorts. I fear my cock would slice them apart at the seam.
“I hope that’s okay,” she says softly. “I mean… it is okay, right?”
I nod once to show, of course, it’s okay.
She nods in agreement, still smiling as she turns toward an open spot in the grass, glancing once over her shoulder with an unspoken request for me to follow
. I stupidly trail after her, stealing small looks to see how other Sidyths interact with humans, and it does not seem too challenging. Most, layout in the nude, taking the rare moment to soak in the sun, and women kneel next to them. I cannot hear what they are saying, but a conversation with a human cannot possibly be that difficult. After all, if my simpleton, little brother, Dolan, can speak to the one with a sprog’s face, I am sure I can handle York.
Still, it certainly does not help that my cock stands at full attention as she moves.
Does she not feel comfortable being nude? Her skin, despite having no scales, is darker than mine; like she is already comfortable in the sunlight, but I’ve also heard her talking about wanting to see the rain.
That makes me happy. I am one of the few Sidyths who does not hate the rain.
Perhaps, I could invite her to my cave once she is more comfortable with me.
Do not become overconfident, Azan. Remember your disease.
I shake this voice away, not wanting to focus on it but rather on York, and how she has been made to be mine. There is no one else for me.
York sits primly in the grass, bending her knees and folding her smooth legs behind her and pats a spot on the grass beside her hip. Some of my brothers watch the scene with interest, but I cannot focus on that. York is beautiful. Intelligence can be scented from any distance, not to mention arousal.
And no matter how crazy it is, it may be possible the one that arouses York… is me.
“Have a seat. I don’t bite.”
Her words make me flinch back, and then I remember York doesn’t know how her statement affects me. I straighten my shoulders and take a seat, trying to find a balance between brushing my skin against hers and not scaring her off by being too forward. This is the most receptive any woman has ever been with me, and I don’t want to ruin it in my over-eagerness for a Chosen.
