by Alana Khan
Maybe I’ll marry one of them, though, and have little babies with hair the color of mine or their dad’s. And I’ll finish school and get a job in a law firm and see every new sci-fi movie that Hollywood can produce. And I’ll grow old and never figure out why nothing has felt right since my second year of law school.
His eyes pop open and he catches me staring at him.
“Victoria. How do you feel?”
“Why do you ask? It’s not like anything extraordinary is happening in my life, Sir.” I smile and wink at him.
He swats my ass and winks back. “We’ve got shopping to do tonight. Get dressed.”
“Shopping, Sir?” I bound out of bed and pull on the dress I wore to the zoo.
“No panties,” he barks as I open the top drawer of the dresser.
“No panties, Sir?” Good girl Victoria has never gone commando in her life.
“Not only do I want instant access, but I want to bask in the knowledge that I can touch you whenever I want.”
What would you call the expression on his face? Is that a smirk? Whatever it is, it causes a bolt of lust to fly along my synapses.
“You could do that in the grocery store, Sir?”
“No, but that doesn’t prohibit me from thinking about it. Besides, we’re not going grocery shopping.”
“What are we buying, Sir? It looks like you’ve nicely furnished the house according to my Pinterest account,” I ask, my eyebrows raised in innocence as if I didn’t just give him a verbal dig.
“The desk in my study does not meet specifications. The panels on three sides need to span from the top surface to the floor.”
He spears me with a hard gaze, challenging me to argue. I’m certain all my blood just drained from my face.
“I thought you forgot,” I whisper, then swallow hard.
“No, little Earther. I remember every single detail of your fantasy. I took mental notes. We’ll shop tonight for the desk and all the other little accessories that will make your fantasy come true.”
“I’ve read that some fantasies are best left as… fantasies, Sir. Just something to think about, vibrator in hand, on those lonely nights alone in Des Moines. This is one of those, Sir.”
“We’re going to test your theory, Victoria. Tomorrow. And after it’s over, you tell me if it was better in your mind or in person. As I recall, the way it was structured, it went on for hours. I’ve blocked off my calendar for the whole day. I’d recommend you do the same.”
Shit. He pulled every lurid detail out of me for that freaking fantasy. And he’s right. The way I told it, it can go on for hours.
“Voxx. Sir. Please. I can’t do it. It’s too embarrassing. It will be mortifying. I’ll… I’ll suck your cock for hours, with enthusiasm, if you forget this idea.”
“No.”
The End
Dear Reader,
I hope you’ve enjoyed books One and Two in this trilogy. Read Book Three (Scroll for Sneak Peek) to find out just what happens under the desk, and why there are two males on the cover of Book Three (bet you can’t guess). I can be such a tease.
I’ve written an even spicier EPILOGUE for you that is only available for FREE if you sign up for my newsletter here. You’ll receive it immediately upon signup. My newsletter also gives you snippets of upcoming books, cover reveals, and chances to win cool stuff like free audiobooks.
Begging
Victoria begs so often in this trilogy, I thought, what the heck, I can beg too. Reviews are super important to an author, they help new readers decide if they want to invest their time and money. Here are links to Voxx Book One and Voxx Book Two so you can leave reviews. Thanks so much. I appreciate my readers, you are very important to me.
Hugs,
Alana
Sneak Peek of Voxx Three
Scroll down for Sneak Peak of Voxx Three, the final book in the trilogy.
Sneak Peek
Voxx: Book Three in the Mastered by the Zinn Alien Abduction Romance Series
Present Day
On Planet Zinn
Day Eleven
Victoria
I wake up with dread clenching deep in my stomach. Last night Voxx took me shopping to prepare for today. I begged him to relent, but he won’t even discuss it.
My whole world has changed irrevocably over the last ten days. I've been stolen from Earth and forced into close quarters with the most dominant, insufferable male in the galaxy. The hardest thing, more than his relentless sexual demands—which I admit I’ve grown addicted to—is my acknowledgment that I love his dominance.
Which is good in a way, because I have no choice but to be with him for the duration of the two-week Quest.
Days ago he forced me to admit a secret fantasy I’ve nursed since I started law school. What he doesn’t understand is that fantasies are secret for a reason. Even worse, now that the cat is out of the bag, he wants to act it out—in every gory, embarrassing detail.
Last night we went shopping for ‘accessories’ for this fantasy. My cheeks flame at the thought of what he’ll use them for. Shit. Why didn’t I share a vanilla fantasy about getting banged by some football star? I can be such an idiot sometimes.
“How are you feeling, zara?”
I glance at him, his back against the headboard, his silver eyes shining with an otherworldly glow. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were compassionate. His beautiful purple face doesn’t look foreign to me anymore, that faded after the first few days. Now, instead of his differences, all I can catalog when I look at him is how handsome he is: straight nose, arched white brows, bow-shaped magenta lips.
“I’m fine, Sir.”
“Your face is flushed. You’re not having a relapse, are you?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good.” Brushing his thumb over my lips, he winks. “We have a full agenda today.”
"Come to think of it, Sir, I am feeling a little under the weather.”
“I know the perfect way to make you feel better. Dozens of them, actually. Shall I choose?”
“Will it replace the fantasy, Sir?”
“No. It would be in addition.”
“I’ll pass, Sir.”
“This has been your fantasy for years. Why wouldn’t you want to act it out?”
“It’s embarrassing, Sir.”
“Embrace who you are.”
He licks me with the tip of his tongue from the corner of my mouth to my ear. “You taste delicious. It’s just one of the many things I like about you.”
My gaze flies to his and I incline my head. “You like things about me?”
All humor evaporates from his face as he becomes serious, his eyebrows slanting downward. He grips my chin in his large, strong hand. “You don’t think I like you, Victoria?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“The spanking, Sir.” What does he think he’s done that wouldn’t be interpreted as dislike? “The orders, Sir. The positions. I peed on myself out of fear for fuck’s sake. Oh, and controlling the words that come out of my mouth.” I’m not exactly rolling my eyes, but I can’t control the look on my face that says, ‘are you nuts? Why would you even ask such a question?’.
The muscles around his eyes and mouth tighten, it’s a cross between pissed and sad. He sits against the headboard and pulls me up so we’re having a face-to-face, serious conversation.
“Victoria, I admit the first hour we shared was not my finest. I’ve apologized for that. It was misguided. I’m apologizing again right this minute. I’m sorry. But since I released you from the krannock that first day, what have I done that you didn’t enjoy?”
I mentally replay every waking hour since I was abducted eleven days ago. His face is less than a foot from mine and I’m certain he can see each emotion as it crosses my face. Shame at my responses to him has to be on the top of the list. And arousal isn’t far behind.
He tucks a stray hair behind my ear and leans to kiss the tip of my nose.
“I’m a male from Zinn, zara. I grew up in a male-dominated atmosphere. There were no females in my classes at school. Because of the unbalanced ratio, females were segregated from us males to keep us from going crazy.
“Everything I know about females my age I’ve learned from a book. I’m discovering new things every second I’m with you. It’s a… complicated dance I’m learning. When to press, when to relax, when to order, when to ignore. And all of it, all of it, zara, is in service to strengthening our bond.”
He lifts me, settles me across his lap, and embraces me with a tight hug. “I’m trying to get this right. I know I’ve pushed you, but you can’t deny you like my dominance. However,” he leans to look me square in the eye, “the fact that it’s day eleven and you have no idea how much I like you… I don’t know how I fucked things up this bad.”
I look intensely into his luminous silver eyes, trying to read his mind. “I didn’t know,” I whisper.
“I’m going to show you. With everything I have.”
My tummy squeezes, both afraid and eager.
His wrist comm beeps, and he answers.
“Voxx.”
He and another male speak in Zinn. The longer the conversation continues, the angrier his tone and the more his brow furrows. He terminates the communication and looks accusingly at me.
“If you spoke Zinn, I’d wonder if you arranged that somehow.”
“What are you talking about, Sir?”
“The desk I ordered for your fantasy is on backorder. It won’t arrive until tomorrow.”
“It’s a travesty, Sir. Their incompetence knows no bounds. The unmitigated ineptitude. They’ve thwarted all your plans. My heart bleeds for you, Sir.”
“Are you mocking me, Victoria?” He frowns so seriously I wonder if the object of his anger has shifted from them to me.
“I’d never mock you, Sir.”
My gaze catches his and my fear disappears, the corners of his mouth tip up. Then the lighthearted teasing evaporates as well. His look is scorching, like he wants to devour me.
“I had my Zinnian heart set on torturing you all day, zara. Now I’ll need to come up with a new plan.” His nostrils flare as he catches the scent of my arousal. “We’ll just have to create a new fantasy.”
Desire flames along my veins and my eyes flutter closed as a montage of sexy possibilities flashes across my internal screen.
He grips my waist and hugs me tighter. His eyes dip to my lips, but he doesn’t kiss me—although in the silence of my mind I’m ordering him to.
“I’ve taught you several positions, zara. Which do you like best?” his voice is low, conspiratorial, as if we’re sharing intimate secrets. I guess we are.
I inventory the odious positions he’s taught me over the last ten days: Kneel, Present, Wall, Ass, Apology, Inspect. I hate them all. Crap, who am I kidding? I love them all. I’m a submissive. But I don’t have to admit it, at least not to him.
"I don’t like any of them, Sir.”
“I know the basics of the Scientific Method, Victoria. Make a hypothesis, test, then observe. We could spend all morning putting you into positions and measuring how wet they make you. It might become boring, but we could gather some interesting results. Or we could skip to the good parts.” He pegs me with a serious stare. “Which position do you like the most?”
“It depends on what comes during and after the position, Sir.” I look up at him, my eyes hinting at all the various delights I’m previewing in my mind.
“Tell me your choice of position as well as what comes after. With alacrity,” his voice is no longer jesting. I’d better give him an answer. When he says the word ‘alacrity’ he’s traveled out of friendly territory and morphed into Attila the Zinn.
“You have ten seconds, then I’ll pick.” Wow, the greedy look he’s giving me makes my mouth dry.
“Wall, Sir,” I blurt.
“What comes after, little Earther? ” He cocks his eyebrow.
“Whatever you want, Sir.” I pierce him with a provocative toss of my head and a Mona Lisa smile.
“Someone’s feeling brazen today. Could it be you’re feeling lucky because we can’t enact your little fantasy until tomorrow?”
“Maybe, Sir.”
“Wall,” he barks.
“Yes, Sir. Which wall?”
He inclines his head to the space between two windows. I scramble over, press my palms to the wall above my head and inch my feet back so I’m standing at an angle.
I’m getting to know his M.O. No matter how far back my feet are from the wall and no matter how wide my stance, he’ll correct it and spread me open for his perusal.
He saunters over and uses his foot to nudge me farther and wider. I’m a mind reader.
“Good girl, Victoria. Just the way I like you. Spread wide for your Sir.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
I thought I’d given myself over to him completely before I left the Drayant to come to Zinn, but evidently I hadn’t. I hide my smile as little remnants of my former self scatter into the air and evaporate. I embrace this position even more. I love relinquishing my power and all decisions to Voxx.
He steps closer, lodges one foot between my legs, and runs his hands along my eager flesh from shoulders to waist. He hefts my breasts in his palms as if he’s conducting an inventory.
“Who owns these?” he husks into my ear.
“You do, Sir. Voxx from Zinn.”
“So good you know your place.” His hands trail slowly from my breasts to my hip bones, then his thumbs merge at the top of my cleft, his fingers splayed on my thighs.
“I know my place, Sir. I know your place, too. Right there.” I freeze for a moment, wondering who I’m talking to, the lenient male who teases and plays or the alpha dominant who brooks no backtalk.
Removing one hand from where it was resting, just inches from my center, he sweeps my hair off my back and over one shoulder, then nips the cords of my neck. “Are you going to try my patience today, little Earther? Make me punish you to show you who’s in charge?”
Turning my chin toward him, he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, then nips it.
“Do you want punishment?”
“Oh, no, Sir. But I’ll take all the pleasure you want to deliver.”
He swats my ass with one hand, then both hands grip my hips and pull me even farther from the wall. His hand cups my sex and lifts me hard enough I rise off the ground for a moment. Wow, that display of power ratchets up my arousal.
“I own this, Victoria,” he grits out. “I’ll decide what to do with it.” One finger probes my entrance, then slides in to the hilt. “You love this.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Tell me what you love.”
“I love that you own me, Sir. I love how you touch me and that you do what you want.”
“Tell me more.” His finger thrusts slowly, all the way in and all the way out again.
“I love everything you do to me, Sir.” I’m breathless. I’m writhing on him, desperate for more, more penetration, more force, more… dominance.
“I’m going to take you, Victoria. Hard.”
“Yes, Sir.” In my mind, I add a silent ‘please’.
His finger leaves my wet, needy channel and is replaced by his cock. It’s warm and thick and fills me up. I’m claimed. I’m owned. I’m stretched around him. My breathing is raspy, desperate. He set a torch—desire flames along my limbs. All my awareness culminates at the apex of my sex.
“I’m on fire for you, Sir.” I’m grunting, thrusting down to meet his every up-thrust.
I’m desperate and close, but I need his permission to come. At this point in our relationship, I doubt my body will respond without his forceful command.
“Please, Sir.”
“Wait. I’m going to take my pleasure from you first, Victoria.”
His demanding comment almost puts me over the top. Why is it the more he takes the more I want to give?
“Fuck
me, Sir.”
His hips piston wildly into me, his hands on my hips controlling every unyielding thrust.
“Lean forward.”
My torso’s horizontal and his angle is deep. He grazes something inside me that detonates an incendiary bomb.
