by Renee Rose
Of course his female was smart. She intuited the significance of his horns and reached down to grip them both, squeezing and releasing them.
He stopped licking, delirious from her touch.
“Master,” she purred, an awed appreciation in her tone. “Your horns get hard for me, too.”
Unwilling to give her the upper hand, he forced himself to pull back, out of grasp, away from his worship of her incredible pussy. He slapped one of her breasts.
“Hands behind your head. Legs wide,” he barked.
A little smile curved her lips. “Yes, Master.” She obeyed, putting her glorious body on full display for him.
“When I tell you to get into position, this is the one I mean. Understand?”
Her eyes gleamed with interest. It might be his undoing. “Yes, Master.”
“I want you to hold this position until I tell you to change it or I move you myself. Understand?”
She nodded. “Yes, Master.”
“If you move before I tell you, I will punish you.”
Her gold-flecked brown eyes held his as she purred, “How, Master?”
The little vixen. Of course she knew he liked to punish.
He fingered his sword belt. “I will take this off and spank you until you scream.”
She shivered, but it was excitement that flared in her gaze. “I understand, Master.”
“Good girl.” He walked to the box of implements he’d brought in and selected two devices designed for pleasure. Or sexual torture, in this case.
He disinfected the first one with the wipes Daneth had provided, then tested it. It sprang to life, vibrating and whirling. Perfect.
He slapped Leti’s wet folds. “I’m going to show you what happens when you try to tempt me with that naughty pussy.”
She jerked but held the position, panting. Her firm breasts were lifted and spread wide and they bobbed with each short breath.
He slapped her once more before inserting the long phallus into her channel until the smaller whirling part met her clit. Then he turned it on.
She shuddered, her mouth dropping open, toes curling.
Those poor little toes. He’d address them later.
He stood back and folded his arms, watching the effect of the device on his female. Her golden skin flushed with color and she began to make micromovements with her pelvis.
“How does it feel to be teased, beautiful?”
She said nothing, but her large round eyes turned pleading, fixed on his face.
He slapped her breast. “I asked you a question.”
“I-I don’t know.” It struck him as a fairly honest answer, so he let it go.
“I’m curious how long it will take before you start begging me for relief.”
She licked her lips. “Master wants me to beg?”
He gave a sharp shake of his head with a frown and she closed her pretty lips. “No. Your master wants to see you crack. I’d like to know what lies beneath that sexy facade of yours.”
Another shiver raced through her, but she clearly took his words as a challenge, because the chink in her armor, the one that allowed her confused arousal to glimmer through disappeared and she turned it into a show, rolling her pelvis up and down and changing her expression to some version of an orgasm face.
No. Veck that.
He wanted the real thing.
He cleaned off a second device, the same sort of instrument, but one designed for her ass. It was shorter, but rounder, with a handle on the end.
Her eyes widened when he approached with it, but she kept up the hip thrusts.
“Lift both legs in the air, Leti.”
She complied, keeping them spread wide. It wasn’t what he’d imagined, but so much better.
“Mmm. That’s a pretty sight.”
Her belly flexed and stretched with heavy breaths. Her juices dripped down her crack. He used a pump of lubricant and coated the device before screwing into her tight anus. At first he thought Daneth must have been mistaken—that the device was the wrong size for a human female, but then her body accepted it.
He pumped it in and out of her, watching her lose composure. Her eyes glazed, jaw went slack.
When she started making pleading little sounds, satisfaction pounded in his ears. He reached up and pinched one of her nipples, holding on and tightening.
She screamed.
He changed to the other nipple, all the while pumping the vibrating plug in and out of her ass while the other thick phallus owned her pussy.
“Please?” She sounded hoarse. “You want me to beg, Master? Please, please let me come.”
“Oh you’ll come.” He shifted position to grip both devices and he started to veck her with both of them, deep and hard. “You’ll come and you’ll come and then you’ll beg me to make it stop.”
Alarm flashed over her face just before she came for the first time. Her legs spasmed out of control, flailing around in the air. One would have kicked him in the face had he not dodged.
He chuckled, enjoying the heady sense of control he wielded, along with the front row seat to the most beautiful display of female orgasm—of any species.
When it passed, he tsked. “You didn’t hold position, love. Now I’ll have to punish you.”
She panted, clearly still out of her mind with her climax. “No… wait.”
He unfastened his sword belt and let the scabbard drop to the floor. After doubling it, he lifted her ankles in the air and swung. The animal hide struck right over the anal plug, sending it deeper as she tightened around it.
“Ung.”
Yes, her masks were gone now. All he saw was arousal and alarm—an intoxicating mix, especially on his delectable female.
He applied the belt several more times, enjoying the way her legs flexed and bottom bobbed, trying uselessly to escape it.
He lowered the belt and ran his thumb over one of the marks. “I wish I knew how much you could take, little female. You mark so easily.” He lowered her ankles. “Into position,” he barked, like a Master at Arms giving orders to his proteges.
She responded as a well-trained subordinate, snapping her legs and elbows open.
“Good girl.” He thrust his thumb into her mouth and she sucked without being told. “You’d best never anger me, love. I’ll wear that pretty ass out with my belt.”
She made an unintelligible sound around his thumb.
“And then I’ll finish with my hand.” Stars, he loved to talk about hurting her. “Which is worse, my belt or my hand?” He removed his thumb so she could answer.
She shrugged, writhing on the sleep disk, stuffed full of vibrating devices. “D-depends on how you use them. You could make me cry with either.”
The thought of making her cry both sickened and aroused him. Would he enjoy her tears? He didn’t think so, and yet somehow desperately wanted to know.
He settled, instead, for sucking her breast.
She panted and shifted beneath him. He didn’t realize what she was about until her mouth closed around one of horns.
He shouted, nearly coming in his flight pants.
“Veck,” he growled. He jerked up to see if she’d come out of position, but she hadn’t. She’d simply contorted her neck to reach him. He fisted the horn and squeezed with a bruising force, trying to regain his control.
“You want to suck your master’s horns?”
The little she-devil nodded, batting those long eyelashes at him.
He shook his head slowly. “You don’t get to suck until your master orders you to suck. Don’t ever take without asking. Understand?”
What. The mother-Earth-loving fuck?
She stared up at the massive warrior, noting the change in his eye color from brown-purple, to bright amethyst. Hunger seeped from every line of his face, showed in the stiff, thick knobs of his horns, which leaned toward her.
And yet he would deny himself pleasure if it meant giving her an inch.
Crazy alien.
&nbs
p; But nothing within her rejected him. No, something hot and full flowed through her, from her. She fucking loved his dark, dangerous passion. The one that made him need her as much as she, apparently, needed him.
Because sweet solar light, her body was on fire! If he didn’t remove the vibrators soon, she would lose her mind.
Never in her existence had she known sex could be this visceral, this raw, this intoxicating. Oh, she'd had some "clients" who were tender, and some who aroused her. But no man, alien or beast, had ever reduced her to this quivering mass of need, dying for his touch, for her own release. She was ready to beg again. And she meant drop all pretense at pride and seriously beg for him to stop. Or go on. She needed release. This was fucking torture!
“Please, warrior—Master.” Her brain wasn’t even working anymore. “Giant horned male. Paal,” she babbled, words flying out of her mouth before she could reel them back in.
“Please, what? Please may I suck your horns?”
All right, no. But she’d do anything he demanded to get some relief. “Yes!” she sobbed. “Please let me suck your horns. Let me please you, Master. I’m so good at it.”
His expression closed, some of the fire in him visibly dampening. “I know you are.”
Why did he sound disappointed? Did he resent that she’d been previously trained? That she’d been with so many other males?
She tried it a different way. “Teach me what you like, Master. Train me.”
He rubbed his thumb across her lips, a storm brewing under his assessing look. Then he moved, lightning fast, to pinch both her nipples at once. He pulled them taut, forcing her to arch off the sleepdisk and follow him.
“Come, Leti.” A quiet command.
Her body responded. She bucked, pussy and anus squeezing hard around the vibrators, thighs quivering. He released her nipples and the stinging heat there amplified her release. The relief was enormous and short-lived, because the damn contraptions still held her hostage.
“Please, Paal,” she begged.
He shook his head, a stubborn look coming over his face. “Punishment.”
She writhed on the bed. “This is my punishment?”
He arched a brow. “Are you holding your position?” A sharp warning in his tone.
“Yes.” She sounded sulky now. She had managed to hold the position despite her restless movements.
“Yes, little human. This is your punishment. For being such a vecking temptation to me.”
“It’s not my fault I’ve been trained.”
He slapped her breast. “I will untrain you. I want you real.”
Real.
The word bounced around in her head, setting off explosions of thoughts she couldn’t handle. What in the hell was real? Who was the real Leti? She’d never been allowed to be anything during sex but what her master molded.
All she knew how to do with Paal was figure out what he wanted and give it to him.
Except he wanted the only thing she didn’t know how to give.
Her.
A sob escaped her lips. She wasn’t crying. Tears hadn’t formed, but she felt like wailing. Or did she want to yell?
And all the time, Paal watched her with that glimmering gaze of his.
Unable to take even one more second of it, she did something she’d never, in all her twenty-five years as a slave, done. She cranked her leg and kicked her master.
She aimed for his balls and put as much power into the kick as possible, but she was a fool. A trained warrior isn’t slain by an opponent in plain sight. He easily sidestepped and caught her ankle, using it to deftly flip her to her stomach.
She expected retribution. Something terrible—worse than the belt, but he only gave her a light slap on the ass.
“Just for that, I should leave those in all planet rotation,” he rumbled, but in the next moment, he turned off the vibrators.
Relief swept through her, leaving her utterly limp.
Paal coaxed the devices out of her and dropped beside her on the bed, draping an arm around her waist.
She couldn’t make herself move, not even to turn. Although whether she would have turned to him or away, she wasn’t sure.
He nuzzled her neck, kissed behind her ear. “This is how I want you, beautiful. Trembling and wrung out and a little bit raw.”
Now tears speared her eyes, although she couldn’t imagine the reason.
She didn’t cry often—usually only under extreme punishment, which she did her best to avoid. Why would hearing these soft, murmured words from her new master bother her?
He inhaled sharply and rolled her to her back, concern pinching his brows. “Are you hurt?”
She shoved at his chest and attempted to roll away, but he pulled her even closer, until her body met every hard line of his. Her pussy squeezed, still ripe for anything the warrior demanded. He coaxed her face up and brushed his lips across hers.
She stopped breathing.
This tenderness from him—it was so much worse than his rough demands.
Dangerous.
Because it felt so. Damn. Good.
And slaves don’t get it good. They don’t fall in love with their masters and they don’t trick themselves into believing anyone actually cares. Or, if you can get a master to care, you certainly don’t offer emotion in return.
Another panicked sob rose in her chest.
She pushed even harder against Paal. Tried to get a reaction out of him. Maybe if she struggled enough, he’d punish her again. Finally take her the way they both knew he wanted to.
Yes.
He flipped her onto her back and pinned her wrists beside her head. “Easy, beautiful. I just want to kiss you. I’ll only make it hurt if you want me to.” He was teasing her, trying to lighten the mood, but she didn’t bite.
She simply turned her head away. Her stomach rumbled and he frowned.
“I forgot—I brought you food.” He eased off of her and walked to the table beside the door, where a covered tray lay. He carried it back to her. “Are you hungry again? Humans have to eat all day long, right?”
She couldn’t hide her smile at his misconception, relieved that the topic had changed. “Not all day. But at least twice. Three times if we can get it.”
He scowled. “You’ll have all the food you desire here. Any time.” He sounded almost gallant and despite her desire to scoff it away, his assertion produced a curl of warmth in her chest.
He removed the lid from the tray, revealing a plate heaped with all kinds of colorful, but foreign food. “We grow human food. From the original Earth. Our chef knows how to feed humans.” Picking up a beautiful red berry, he held it to her lips.
She took a bite and juice ran down her chin.
He watched it dribble, then startled her by surging forward and licking it off.
“Oh!” She hid a smile and dropped her eyes. “When do you eat, Master?”
Irritation flickered over his face. “Once a week. And I don’t think you should call me Master.”
“Why not? You like it, don’t you?” She almost produced her mock innocent, sex-kitten voice and expression, but at the last minute veered into normality. Although admitting she’d made this concession for him niggled her.
He busied himself scooping a flat bread in some kind of green dip. “Zandians don’t keep slaves. I am your guardian or sponsor. Not a master.”
She leaned forward to take the bite he hadn’t offered yet, knowing he liked to watch her eat.
Sure enough, his horns twitched and his gaze stayed glued to her lips.
“What’s the difference?”
“The difference is while you must conform to Zandian society and obey Zandian rule, you are not a prisoner.” He used the same stiff tone he’d used when he’d apologized for fucking her.
She gave a harsh laugh. “As if there were any place in this galaxy where a human can be free.”
“I mean, if you are unhappy, you may petition for a new guardian.” He fed her another bite when s
he lifted her chin for it.
“Unhappy how?”
His frown deepened. “It is undetermined.”
She rather loved when he turned stiff and formal like this, only because it meant he was uncomfortable. A mixture of relief and unease permeated her senses. Her instincts had been right—the Zandians were a fair and kind species. Being under their rule meant her situation had vastly improved.
Yet the idea of disengaging herself from this male sent a chaotic spiral of wrongness through her chest. She may not understand him. She may not find him easy to be with, but she was drawn to him like a magnet. She craved his touch, no matter how rough. Her body responded as if he had always been her master. Or as if he was her body’s only true master.
But she didn’t need him to know any of that. She batted her long lashes at him. “Maybe I’ll petition for a master who lets me suck his horns.”
Paal crushed the soft pouch of liquid he’d been holding in one hand and a sweet-smelling juice sprayed all over both of them.
She squealed and jumped up, laughing.
“You’re going to get spanked again,” his deep voice growled, but a smile tugged his lips as he lunged for her, catching her around the waist. “You want the horns, you’ll have to earn the right to suck them.” His hot breath feathered across her ear.
She giggled, struggling against him to be free, pleasure blooming everywhere he touched her.
He carried her into the washroom she’d meant to investigate after her nap and thrust her into a washtube. “Clean yourself, human. I want your hair down and the smell of Jujo washed from your skin.”
“I don’t smell like Jujo,” she grumbled, but moaned with pleasure the moment a warm spray of water drenched her from every side. “Don’t eat my food!” she called out over the spray of water. “I’m going to finish all of that.”
Paal chuckled. “I won’t eat your food, ridiculous human.”
She smiled and leaned back against the washtube surface. She was starting to get somewhere with this male.
Although the fact that he was also starting to get somewhere with her, too, should be something she worried more about.
3
