by Sabrina Kade
He doesn’t say anything at first, only staring down at me. Breathing hard and occasionally glancing down at his dick. Poor fella. He looks like he needs to jerk off. Rocking a dick that hard in such small, tight shorts can’t be comfortable, but it sure does look good.
“Do you realize the others could smell you?” His words shock me at first, and his cock twitches again. Finally, he absently reaches down and strokes it a few times, for a bit of relief, and I lick my lips. “Did you hear me? The others could smell you. They could taste you. It was only because of Hujun and Dolan that everyone did not come rushing in.”
My eyes widen. He can only be talking about what I did in the privacy stall. I didn’t think about it. Making my arousal known, I can only imagine ensuing frenzy. And though Azan said it was Hujun that stopped others from coming in, I’m sure Ellis had something to do with it too.
I’ll be sure to thank her later.
“I smelled you the moment I rounded the corner,” he mutters, stroking his cock again, groaning in pain. “Before that, I thought I smelled you…”
“So why didn’t you come?”
The familiar slurping sound is my answer. God, he’s making me excited all over again. I can’t stop the small moan that escapes my lips. He’s still stroking the length of his dick over the fabric of his shorts. It’s all but impossible not to want to pounce him.
“Azan?” I ask a second time when he doesn’t answer. “Why didn’t you come if you smelled me?”
He frowns. I can’t see his mouth, but I know because of his eyes.
Then it dawns on me.
“You thought I was with someone else, didn’t you?” I can’t help the hurt in my voice. After spending time with him, cooking with him, and fighting to stay near him, he’s so easily able to believe I’d find pleasure with one of his brothers. In a privacy stall, no less.
Like I’m a fucking tease.
I stand, no longer as horny, but Azan keeps his stance, glaring down hard at me.
“I am sorry, York.”
He’s still stroking his dick. He’s accused me of getting it on with one of his brothers, and he’s stroking his damn dick at the same time. He takes in a deep breath, seeming to try and calm himself as I storm towards the door, but his massive bulk prevents me from leaving.
“Let me go,” I say, not wanting my voice to shake as he stares down at me, and I can’t glance down either, because his dick is all but pressed against my stomach.
When did this room get so small? And hot?
I’m still horny by the sight of his massive hand stroking the length of his dick, but also, I’m hurt he wouldn’t come for me because he thought I was with someone else.
I have no idea what to think.
I’m hurt. I’m horny. I’m really horny, but I’m still hurt, dammit.
“Please don’t go,” Azan pants, almost unable to keep his composure. “I don’t know why I assumed you would do something like that. When I smelled you. When I smelled how aroused you were—”
“You thought I was pleasuring one of your brothers?” I snap. “Azan, do you know why I was so horny? Do you know why I had to pleasure myself?”
He swallows. He doesn’t ask, but his eyes tell me he’s dreading the answer. Why, I’m not sure.
“I was thinking about you, Azan!” I snap, pushing him away from me. It takes all the strength I have to press my tiny hands against his stone-hard chest, but he stumbles back just the same, probably surprised I would put my hands on him in the first place.
I swear to God, I didn’t know aliens could have low self-esteem.
Doesn’t Azan see himself the way I do? How hot and bothered I get for him? How just his gaze alone makes me wet? How watching him stroke his dick while accusing me of cheating, ugh, I don’t know what he thinks, is still making me slick with desire? He obviously has no clue how much he gets me off. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be standing here having this conversation.
It’s the mask.
Whatever’s behind it, it’s the reason he won’t trust me. Or himself. Whatever’s behind the fabric is what gives him low self-esteem despite everything else about him. With that fucking mask on, it doesn’t matter that he’s built and sexy. It doesn’t matter that his eyes smolder. It doesn’t matter that he speaks thirty languages or has thighs like a running back. No. The only thing that matters to him is his mask, and unless I can get him to understand that I don’t give a damn, he’ll probably never believe how much I want him.
“If you want me to stay, you need to take off the mask.”
He takes a few steps back, instinctively touching the fabric covering his mouth. But then he steps forward again, almost afraid I’m going to leave if he doesn’t at least try to explain himself. I keep my footing as he hovers a few inches away from me and cocks his head to the side, lowering his eyes.
It’s an invitation.
“You’re going to let me take it off?” I can hardly stand how easy this is. It’s got to be a trick. My fingers uncurl and stretch up towards his face, and his eyes grow hesitant. He’s so nervous he’s trembling.
Am I ready for this? Am I ready for answers?
My fingers brush against the fabric coating his jaw, and he hisses loudly, leaning into my touch. His eyes grow heated, but they’re still darting back and forth. I don’t attempt to take off the mask, choosing to touch the exposed skin on his face. It’s cool and dry, despite the scales, and I brush a single finger against it to memorize the feel.
He’s not human.
It’s odd, but until now, I’ve never thought of him as an alien. Either way, it doesn’t bother me.
I continue to explore him, not taking off the mask, but unsure if I’m going to take it off eventually. Azan seems so vulnerable. I’m sure others aren’t used to seeing him like this. The Azan that walks around the halls is stoic and terrifying. This Azan – the one who allows me to stroke the scales on his cheeks with my fingers – is a broken and frightened child.
His cheekbones are strong and prominent, just like a model on a romance novel, and though there isn’t a hint of stubble near the edge of the mask, I can’t help but picture what he’d look like with a beard. Or a flannel shirt. I’m so turned on touching him, that I’m sure Azan can taste my arousal. This isn’t familiar territory. This isn’t a completely innocent exploration, but it’s not possessive groping either.
Suddenly, I’m not ashamed for jerking myself off. It’s because of the late-night masturbation session that I’m standing here with Azan. Alone, while he’s timid and nervous around me.
It’s strange to see a Sidyth like this.
Especially when he reaches up and rests his enormous hand over mine as I continue to explore him. He wants to feel what I feel. He wants to be part of what I’m feeling.
I lower my hand slightly, touch his chest and keep my eyes on his.
He’s still so hard. His poor dick. I’m only doing okay because of my pleasure session last night, but who knows how long it’s been for Azan? It could be hours, days, or years, and I would never know because I never bothered to ask.
Why does this Sidyth draw me in so much?
I’ll admit, when I signed up to be a Human Whore, I never expected to find kindness. The training academy raped and beat that hope right out of me after the first week. The Octonods and Drakens took care of the rest. I didn’t want the money; I wanted something different.
Fuck me twice over, I found it.
My fingers find their way to his stomach, and I trace over each pec, surprised by how hard he is, and the scales sparsely covering him there. His skin is chilled, even with all the sun rayers around the room. I’m sweaty, and I swear it’s brighter and warmer in here than it was the last time I was in his room. Did he turn them down earlier because I was in his room? The thought makes me excited.
“Azan…” I whisper, touching that insatiable muscle near his hip pointing down to his erect dick. “How could you think for a moment anyone but you would get me this excited?
I spent the whole day with you, and then you left me back in the Gathering Room with hardly anything more than a pat on the back. I’m human. I needed relief.” I take a chance and brush against the crown of his cock. He sucks in a hiss, barely able to remain standing. A thick hand reaches over my head and braces the wall above me, keeping him in place. “Don’t you ever need relief?”
“You were pleasuring yourself earlier for me?” He manages to choke out, still bending forward so he doesn’t fall on top of me. His nose is all but buried in my hair. “Not another male? It is okay, York. I would not blame you. I am inadequate in many areas.”
“Like what?” I breathe, staring up at him. I want him to know how much he does it for me. He’s thick and strong, brilliant, and also shy. It doesn’t hurt that his muscles ripple with every movement, and his dick’s bigger than anything I’ve ever seen. “Azan, you’re beautiful to me.”
He scoffs, but I remove my hand from his cock and cup his jaw.
“You’re beautiful,” I say again, hoping my words reach him. “Your face. Your chest. Your stomach. Your thighs. Your hips. It doesn’t hurt that you have a great ass.” He jerks involuntarily, looking at me with questions in his eyes. “I saw you bending over when we were in the prep room.” I can’t help but laugh. “And I don’t think I need to tell you that your dick…”
“You like it.” It’s not a question this time. He says it like it’s a statement. Because it is.
“I like it,” I say just the same, so he hears the words. “I love it.”
“It is not like a human cock, I am sure.”
“I didn’t sign up for this star whore gig thinking I’d be around a human cock. Have you done research or something?” I tease.
“No.”
“Well, then. You don’t get to say that. Besides. From what I’m seeing? It’s better.”
He sucks in another breath, and it’s hard not to get more excited knowing I can turn him on this much with a few words. I’m honored, but I’m still not sure if he’ll ever be able to feel comfortable with me, or himself unless I figure out what’s going on behind the mask.
Touching his cock and watching his reaction isn’t a bad consolation prize. For either of us. I’m greedy, though. I can’t stand secrets. I can’t stand not knowing something. My hand trails back up to his face as much as it pains me to abandon his lower half. He takes in a sharp breath. I’m not the only one enjoying this gentle exploration.
I need more though. I can’t give myself to him unless I know.
I don’t care what’s wrong with him, but I have to know what’s wrong in the first place.
“Azan, let me remove it,” I whisper. “The mask. I don’t care what’s behind it, but I think you’ll feel better if you let me see.”
He doesn’t move, but he tenses up. He’s shutting down.
“I’m not expecting a full-on make-out session if you’re not comfortable.” And it’s true. If something behind that mask prevents him from putting his mouth on me, I’m sure we can find other ways to be intimate. I don’t mind getting creative. In fact, I’d love the challenge. He has to know that. He has to feel the desperation in my touch and see the longing for him in my eyes. “Azan, we don’t have to do anything physical, but you’ve got to give me something. You’ve got to give me a piece of you—”
“You should go.”
I pull my hand away. “What?” I don’t mean for my voice to reach a new level of shrill, but I’m kind of shocked to shit. “You’re kicking me out?”
“My brothers were worried you were pleasuring another male in the privacy stall.” He clears his throat. “Now that I know this is not the case, it’s late. We should probably both get back to bed.”
“Are you kidding me? Did you hear a word I said? Have you been acting on autopilot while stroking your damn dick and listening to me tell you how hot you are? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?”
His eyes lower, and he rubs the back of his neck, but I’m hardly in the mood to show him sympathy now. I told him how I felt. I told him he’s the only one that does it for me. I told him. I showed vulnerability to him. I thought he was showing it to me.
Fuck this.
“It’s the mask, isn’t it?” I snarl, getting pretty fed up with that piece of fabric covering his mouth. “It’s because I asked to see what’s beneath it? You coward! Don’t you get it? I don’t care about your stupid mask!”
“I am not an adequate partner,” he mutters. “I thought I could give myself to you but knowing you could be so much happier with another—”
“Dammit! What about what I want? What if I don’t think I could be happy with someone else? Did you ever think of that, you dumbass?”
He frowns and lowers his head. “I have much to think about.”
“Don’t bother,” I snap, pushing past him. “You’re a tease; you know that?”
“Tease? I have never teased you.”
“You could have fooled me,” I snarl. “Acting all sweet and innocent, only to turn me away. I bet you get off on this. I bet with the others—”
“I have never been with another—”
“Like I give a shit about your virgin status!” I scream, barely registering his confession.
He’s a virgin? He’s a damn virgin?
Now, I’m beyond humiliated. It’s like finding out you’re accidentally flirting with one your little brother’s friends.
“Please don’t go,” Azan says. “I’m very confused.”
“I don’t care if you’re confused! You want me to go? I’m out!”
“I am sorry, York.”
“Piss off.” I land my fist against his jaw, but I’m pretty sure it hurt me more than him, and cradling my fist, I storm away, expecting him to follow and make sure I’m okay.
He doesn’t.
What the hell?
CHAPTER FIVE
Azan
Stars and effing moons. What is wrong with me?
I’m not entirely sure what’s happened, but I am aware York’s sparred me in the face and retreating back to the Gathering Room. Because I told her to leave. Because I’m a fucking coward.
I should go to her, but I’m not sure how much it will mean since I’m the one who asked her to go.
But I was afraid. That sounds horrible, but it’s true.
I’m so afraid of her and afraid of what she’ll think of my disease.
My body and my mind are at war, and as the saying goes, everyone loses during a war. There are no true winners.
I certainly didn’t win anything today because I went from having an aroused York in my room, to standing alone, cradling my chin, and slightly surprised she struck me in anger.
She had every right to.
What kind of male am I to accuse of her being with another and when she is not mine to accuse? What kind of male stands there stroking his cock, while making these accusations? What kind of male am I to allow York to touch me and then turn into a coward when she wants me to pleasure her? I cannot pleasure her with my mouth. I can never kiss her, and I do not trust myself enough to fuck her. So, what do I do?
I panic. I kick her out.
And now, I’m pretty sure she hates me.
The question comes again, what is wrong with me?
I am not only cruel to York but to myself. She is attracted to me, yes. I see that now. I know now I am no better than a moronic dembrong sprog for thinking she would give pleasure to someone else after spending the day with me. All of these things make it obvious that despite everything, York cares for me. She not only cares for my company as a friend but possibly as a lover.
But what about when she finds out I cannot pleasure her in the ways my brothers can?
I’m nearly left breathless by the idea of her with another, but I would rather lose her now, than later when I’ve grown more attached, and she pulls off the mask. Ugh, and I still don’t exactly know why I shouted I had never pleasured another woman – with my mouth – or otherwise. Likely, she will find me less suit
able than ever. I have given her an out, and she ran away. She wanted me to chase her, and yet my feet would not move.
I want her, and yet, I don’t want her. I want her to want me, but I fear her wanting more from me than I can possibly give.
I am a horrible, horrible man.
Punching the wall to my right, I allow the curtain to fall, but it only takes a moment for me to realize others must have seen York depart.
Dolan strides in without so much as a tap, and he smiles as I settle on the bed, clutching my head.
“What happened?” His voice sounds surprisingly concerned. “I thought you would keep that one for the night once you brought her back to your room. She certainly did not seem to protest.”
“I sent her away.”
“You… what?” Dolan sounds almost as confused as I feel. “Why would you do that, Azan? Didn’t you hear what the tiny one and Hujun said? She was pleasuring herself, not another male.” When I don’t answer, Dolan takes a few steps closer. “That’s what it was, correct? Your Chosen was pleasuring herself and fell asleep?”
“I have not Chosen her.”
Dolan barks out a laugh. “So that’s what it is.”
I snap my hands down, sit up in bed and fix Dolan with a glare. “So that’s what what is?”
“You chased her away.” Dolan shakes his head, and I narrow my eyes further. “That’s what you did, isn’t it? You’ve convinced yourself, yet again, that no female could ever love you with your condition.”
“You make it sound so silly.” I rub the spot on my chin again, trying to remember how York’s hand felt there.
“That’s because it is, Azan. Condition or not, you must give females a chance to reject you before you reject them. Otherwise, you are never going to find a Chosen. And no one knows better than me how much you want one. You want a family. You want to be a kind parent because our parents were never kind to you.”
I swallow hard. I hate how my needs are so childish, but he’s right. I want a family. I want to be a father to as many sprogs as my Chosen is willing to carry. I would be happy with one. I would be happy with hundreds. I simply want to be a father and have a woman in my life who will smile upon the sprogs like Mama never did to me. My mind drifts to York, and I can’t help but think of her stomach filled with my sprog. Our sprog. The thought makes my cock stiff, right in front of my little brother, but I don’t care.
