by Brenna Lyons
“Yes,” she gasped. “Taste wherever you want to, Raashh. Please. Touch me.”
He came at her more avidly, piercing her ass over and over. Just as she felt she might come from his exploration, he moved on to her weeping pussy. The rasping of his tongue sent her to a second climax in moments, and his lazy tasting of her clit set off aftershocks.
Marie came to her senses, cradled in Raashh’s arms, her body vibrating in awareness. They stared at each other, and she wasn’t certain which one of them was more stunned.
She swallowed hard, terrified that he would see her weakness in pleasure as a risk. “Will you refuse me, Raashh?” she asked. Her heart ached at the fact that he still could. He could, and I would pine for more of him for the rest of my life.
“Tell me you wish to be my mate, and I would not deny you, little one.” He stroked her hair between his thick fingers.
“I do wish to. Now. Please.”
“First I will feed you and bathe you. Then I will make you my mate.”
Marie nodded, gasping out her agreement.
****
Marie moaned at the stroke of clove oil against her clit. She shifted her hips, riding the slick length of Raashh’s finger, seeking closer contact. She licked her lips, wondering how much longer he would keep her in this sexual limbo.
“You make me crazy to make you mine,” Raashh rumbled.
Closer inspection showed his muscles were strung tight, probably in misguided restraint.
Marie smiled. “I was ready when I got off the shuttle.”
He didn’t argue it. Raashh scooped up her right hand and guided it beneath the surface of the water. His primary was rigid, and she started to stroke it. He shook his head and moved her fingers lower. She gasped in the realization that his secondary was already the length of her little finger.
“Make me ready to anoint you.”
Oh, yes! Marie started using two fingers to stroke him. In moments, he was long enough to use three. Then all four.
Guttural sounds escaped his throat, and Raashh shivered in seeming delight. “Be sure, Marie. When my Zhigaaal starts to flow, I will anoint you, and I will not rest until you are bound as my mate and full of my young.”
“Oh, yes. That is what I want.”
His secondary moved against her hand slightly. A light burning sensation said his Zhigaaal had started to flow.
Her heart rate rose a dozen beats a minute and then more. Already, the need to have him between her thighs was maddening.
Raashh lifted Marie by the waist, and she let his cock slip from between her fingers. He settled her on a warm boulder at the edge of the pond.
Before she could question him, his fingers started working at her nipples, spreading the stinging Zhigaaal over her. Marie arched into his touch, at a loss for the words to encourage him. Her supporting arms trembled beneath her.
He traced a line of heat down her abdomen, retreated, and came back with what could only be a fresh coating of the pheromone. Marie pressed up with her heels, opening herself to him for more. Hot trails stole her thinking mind, leaving her aware of only a patchwork of pleasure as Raashh worked the Zhigaaal into her clit, her swollen and hungry labia, and finally into the ring of her ass.
She was on fire, needing more that only Raashh could offer. Marie didn’t question that Emma’s memories of being anointed were correct. If another man touched her now, she’d try to kill him. With good reason. I am Raashh’s woman.
Raashh set out to drive her mad. He spread his pheromone along her inner thighs, coated her mound with it, even painted a line of it between the globes of her ass, as if assuring himself that every possible erogenous zone was liberally coated in his potent scent.
As if proving her assessment correct, he did the same along the line of her collarbones, down the pulse points of her throat, at the soft, sensitive spot behind her ear, and finally brought a healthy helping to her mouth. Marie trembled as he spread it along her lips, thirsty for more, ravenous for what would come next.
She sucked his finger in, talon and all. Raashh went still, watching her drinking every drop with a moan, his eye slits narrowing.
“Do you…suck as I have heard other human women suck?” he asked.
Marie released him and licked her lips. “Anytime you want me to,” she vowed.
He hesitated long enough to make Marie wonder if he wanted it or was repulsed by it. At last, Raashh rose to his feet and brought his cocks to her lips. “Suck me, Marie.”
She engulfed most of the primary, working the broad column in and out. Raashh let her fellate him, his hand playing at her curls lightly but not pulling her in for more. He would learn in time that she liked that.
“The secondary. Suck the secondary.” There was no mistaking the bark of order.
Marie released his primary and sucked the secondary in. The Zhigaaal was like spice on her tongue, and she moaned, seeking more of him. Before she quite knew what was happening, his secondary was sliding in and out of her throat without a hint of a gag reflex.
Raashh’s roar spurred her on. She was going to make him come. She was going to drink down every drop, and after that, she would be his forever.
His second roar was accompanied by a hand holding the back of her head, his secondary deep in her throat. He erupted, shooting a load of Zhigaaal in; she swallowed it greedily. Her head spun, and her arms folded. Raashh supported her weight, laying her on the boulder as his secondary slipped from between her lax lips.
There was no mistaking his next move. Raashh positioned himself so she could see him stroking up more Zhigaaal. His expression said she was his, and he would kill anyone who stood in the way of him finalizing that connection between them.
Thank the stars! He’s what I’ve always wanted.
****
Raashh had never seen anything more beautiful. Marie was splayed out on the stone, drunk on his Zhigaaal, already well on her way to being his forever.
Quickly. Females fight when the stunning wears off.
Just as Marie started to move, he positioned his secondary at her delicate pink seam and thrust into her, spreading his pheromone the full length of her lovely channel.
The channel I’ll be pounding for the next three days. And then the rest of our lives, as it pleases us to do so. He hoped Marie would continue to be as receptive as she’d been thus far, as the years passed.
It didn’t take much to make him climax again, especially since his first thrust pushed her to the delicious contractions and sounds that announced her climax.
All that time, I thought Emma was in pain. Daahn has been blessed to have so responsive a mate.
But not as responsive as mine, it seems.
Marie went still beneath him again, the momentary pause in the binding that the Seir-God had graciously built in to allow the biding to progress unimpeded. Raashh didn’t waste it. He massaged the base of his secondary, pouring as much of his Zhigaaal against her barrier as he could. The iris of muscle spread wide to the relaxing effects of the pheromone, and Raashh worked his secondary through it carefully, mindful that human women might tear at too rough handling.
Marie moaned, and her hands came up. Raashh winced in the expectation of her human talons biting skin, but that didn’t happen. She stroked her hands up his chest, closing her legs around him, wrapping herself around his bulk as best she could.
The first whisper of movement up and down his secondary nearly stole Raashh’s thinking mind. He grasped her hips and aided her, his careful thrusting becoming more manic as she vented cries that he now recognized meant she was in desperate need of his sex. Since the bio-tracker would let Rayn know if she was in any physical danger, and the medic would intervene, Raashh let his drives loose, staking his claim as he would on a Xxanian female as a test.
Marie’s sounds became more frantic and encouraging, and there was no sign of the human males. It was more than Raashh had ever dared hope for. He planted the next course of Zhigaaal deep in her womb with a prayer
that she would ripen and give him young.
With Marie relaxed in his arms, loosely wrapped around him, he considered giving her one more infusion into her womb. Memories of her sounds and movements as he tongued her ass made his cocks throb for other delights and a quicker end to the torture of his secondary jetting useless cum into the center nest when it could be finding a home in his mate.
Later. I will fill her womb with Zhigaaal and cum for three days. Moving on now will not prevent her from being my mate.
She moaned out a protest when he left her body.
“Only a moment, my little mate. You wish to be mine.” Of course she does.
“Yes. Yes. Please, Raashh.”
Hearing her say it was almost more than he could bear.
Raashh pressed his secondary to the ring of her tight little ass, moaning at the slight bite of the muscles against the head. He massaged up more Zhigaaal, using it to relax the muscles as he eased inside. With every forward motion, Marie made little sounds of encouragement or pleasure. With every slight withdrawal, she tightened her grip on his arms as if in protest. At last, he was deep enough in her ass for his primary to tease at her seam.
“Yes. Oh, yes, Raashh. I’m burning. I need your primary.”
That broke his self-control, and Raashh thrust both cocks deep into her. Marie didn’t scream. A litany of pleas left her lips. It took only a moment for him to realize they were pleas for him to keep moving. Her legs tightened around his hips again.
Another sign that she needs my sex. He committed it to memory.
One thrust led to another and another and another. Her tight little pussy ensured he wouldn’t last long, but he lasted longer than she did, which was a relief.
Again, Marie went lax in his arms. Before Raashh could decide what to do with her next, she was already coming out of her stupor.
So soon?
To his surprise, she didn’t fight him. Marie’s arms and legs tightened around him, and she rubbed her body up and down his, moving his cocks minutely inside her.
“I need more, Raashh.” It was a breathless little whisper of sound.
“More like this?” Or was there something else she wanted?
“Yes. This. Then…everything.”
His heart pounding, Raashh brought her into the water with him, working both cocks hard, to the sweet music of Marie’s sounds.
****
Marie woke in the shelter of Raashh’s body, snug on his dreaming mat. She was on her left side, her head pillowed on one large arm. His chest was pressed to her back, his primary cock stirring lightly against the curve of her ass.
Her body came to life that quickly. Three days of carnality, broken only by a nap here and there and Raashh feeding her to maintain her strength, and the burn to have him buried inside her hadn’t subsided in the least.
His grumbled curse said he was more than aware of her state of arousal. One big hand covered her breast and kneaded. “Your nipple is hard, and you are wet and hot. Are you in desperate need of me, Marie?”
“You know I am.” It came out as a gasp of sound.
His hand moved to her inner thigh, and Raashh spread her legs a bit. He shifted, bringing his primary to her sensitized labia. In the next heartbeat, he was inside and thrusting hard and fast.
Her body exploded in pleasure, and she vented screams of release, swiveling her hips to heighten Raashh’s pleasure. He came with a grunted curse in the Xxan language.
They were still for a moment, panting hard in the aftermath of the best quickie Marie had ever had.
Who am I kidding? Raashh is, in every way, the best I’ve ever had. He’d learned quickly that she liked being dominated by him, having Raashh position her for both their pleasure, being lightly restrained by him, having him order her to suck him or to remain still for his maddening touching.
Just the memories of his handling fired her for more.
He left her body in a rush and turned Marie beneath him, bringing his mouth down on hers with brutal efficiency. For a race that didn’t kiss as part of mating, Raashh had taken to the art and mastered it within a day.
It had started when she’d suggested she would like to try z’haahn. Raashh had fed it to her in the Xxanian manner, the mating male mouth feeding his female. When Marie had continued the kiss well after the meat was gone, he’d questioned it, then experimented with kissing. In short order, he’d been back inside her. Then the feeding had continued, resulting in more mating. They’d shared several meals of z’haahn since, all with roughly the same results.
Raashh broke off the kiss and cupped her chin. “Food for my mate,” he grumbled. “And then we will let Rayn take his damned tests, so they can leave the nest and allow us to set about scenting more of it.”
Marie smiled at the sentiment. “Z’haahn?” she suggested.
“Tease me much more, and you will be drinking my Zhigaaal before the shuttle departs the nest.” It was a challenge he wanted her to take him up on.
“Do you wish me to drink it now?”
“Little tease.” In a whirlwind, Raashh was thrusting hard inside her again, reinforcing his claim. “I will not give them any reason to tarry. You will be sucking my secondary the moment they depart the center nest.”
Her climax neared, a promise of another three days of mating frenzy. Or six. Or a dozen. “Oh, yes.”
Section Two
The Business of Love
Daveed: Dominant
Chapter One
Twenty-nine years later
“The files are on your desktop, Mr. Raashh,” Celeste informed him with her usual military efficiency.
“Thank you.” He tried to keep the edge of irritation out of his voice, but that was difficult. One thing Celeste had never understood was his single-minded approach to design. When he was creating, no interruption was welcome. Not even one I knew was coming at some point today.
Celeste puts up with my moods and distraction. How many personal assistants would be so understanding?
Of course, when I have another designer working with me, I can have many interruptions handled by him. That would be a blessing of the Seir-God.
The creative spark successfully derailed, he dropped the electronic pen to the shelf on the inclined drawing table and pushed the button to save the design he’d been working on. He pushed away from his preferred workspace with a sigh and headed for the desk.
The idea of holding a contest to choose the new designer had been Arren’s, and it was a stroke of genius. The very idea of Daveed spending days or weeks interviewing prospective candidates had convinced him not to take on another designer for more than a year. This way, he had minimal contact with them and only had to interview those whose work he felt would fit with Spice’s existing line best.
The first three designers’ offerings held his attention for less than five minutes each. At that, he was being kind, seeing if anything they offered might fit with his image for Spice.
The fourth left him shocked speechless for a moment. The designer’s Neo-Xenolithic style went beyond the usual flounces and ragged edges and straight to the heart of some two-year-old’s idea of Xxanian culture. The skin-tight silken creations covered from neck to ankle, some with hoods, and included long gloves, complete with fake talons. The entire line was in green, blue, and black scale designs.
Daveed considered stopping right there. Clearly, he wasn’t going to find what he wanted this way.
Something convinced him to go on. Just one more.
He was glad he did from the very first outfit that appeared. The designer had produced long, flowing gowns that draped the female form in elegance, short gowns that enticed without being vulgar, and blouses that would show a Xxanian female’s fertile stripe clearly.
“Perfect,” he decided. How could any designer’s work be so perfect for Spice? Maybe he is another Xxanian. That would certainly explain it.
Excited by the prospect, Daveed skipped to the artist’s introduction of himself. His breath cau
ght, and he gulped in shock. The designer wasn’t Xxanian. She wasn’t male, either.
Her dark honey-colored hair was pulled up in a simple style at the top of her head, and errant curls surrounded her face. She wore one of her own designs, a deep blue that matched her eyes, and she moved gracefully on stiletto heels.
Daveed barely heard the details she imparted to the vid-recorder. The only one that stuck in his mind was her name.
“Joy.” It was also the name of her clothing line.
He paused the feed and summoned Celeste with the push of a button. She appeared in the doorway and waited to hear what he needed from her.
“I wish to interview number five…Joy.”
“Joy Patterson,” she replied. “Any others, Mr. Raashh?”
“Just the one for now.” Seir-God willing, he would have no need to meet the others.
“As you wish.”
When she’d disappeared from view, Daveed started Joy’s vid again, from the beginning. He wanted to know everything about Joy and her line he could before the interview with her.
He made a mental note to have Arren do a background check on the artist in question, in the meantime. One could never be careful enough with anti-Xxan guerrillas on the prowl.
****
Joy scooped up the phone, growling at the interruption. “Yes?” she asked.
“Ms. Patterson?” the woman on the other end asked.
“Yes.” Since it was her work phone, there was no sense denying it. It wasn’t as if she had a staff. Yet. I will have my own staff. Someday.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Patterson. This is Celeste Banks from Mr. Raashh’s office at Spice Industries.”
Her heart thudded in her chest at that pronouncement. If they were calling, it wasn’t a refusal of her proposal outright. I’m still in the running. “Yes, Ms. Banks?”
“Celeste will be fine.”
“Celeste.” Her tongue felt thick in her mouth.
