by V. K. Ludwig
What an odd request. Which Vandalar in his right mind would run from a female? “I will not run.”
“Okay, well…” She pinches the bridge of her nose and squeezes her eyes shut.
The other female pats her shoulder. “I think what my friend here is trying to say is, let’s get the fuck out of here?”
Lilly takes a deep breath. And another. “Right. Right. I’ll drop you off at home and then take Jax to the farm.”
Dressed and collared, I stroll down the corridor a few steps behind Lilly. I take a deep breath, my lungs expanding wider than they have in a long time. This is my chance to prove myself. To have a female in my life after sun cycles of study. Don’t vek this up, Jax.
Three
Lilly
I chose the wanker.
Not because I wanted to, but because the perverted doodle-dasher is the only male I can afford. I don’t want a compulsive masturbator under my roof, but without him, there won’t be any more roof at all.
“Poor guy probably hasn’t seen a female in a while,” Steph mumbles beside me on the passenger seat.
Oh. I haven’t really considered that. Or maybe it’s a Vandalar thing? Territorial marking? Some aliens are weird like that.
I start the fusion panels, and the cabin of my hover truck moans its age. “An entire day tilling fields will fix his… excess energy.”
“He seems friendly enough. Almost polite.” She glances into the rearview mirror, which shows Jax sitting on the bed with a fat grin on his gleaming face. “If he’s a psycho or sexual predator, the collar has voice command.”
Way to make me feel better…
I pull out of the docking station, switching straight into third hover lane toward home, a headache already throbbing at my temples. “I don’t want him to get shocked, but I sure as hell won’t hesitate if he whips it out in front of me again.”
Steph rolls down the window, letting in a whiff of cracked soil and dry air. “Do you think those ridges on his cock are the defect the trader mentioned?”
“Ridges?” As if I was in a state of mind to pay attention to that kind of stuff. “I didn’t notice any ridges. Don’t care either. Tomorrow, I’ll show him around the farm and put him straight to work.”
She tugs on my scarf until the sweat-soaked thing drops onto my lap. “You know I can help cover your mortgage until you’ve got your footing back, right?”
“Nope,” I say with a smack of my tongue. “Not taking handouts. Determination and elbow grease. The forecast says rain at the end of the full sun. If I have the small field seeded by then, I’ll catch up on payments with the harvest.”
She cranks up the orbit receiver’s volume, her manicured nail tapping the beat on the door. “I’ll stop by for coffee in the morning and donate a tub for the cause. They got a shipment of Folgers in last week.”
“I haven’t had a decent cup of joe in days,” I groan, squeezing her hand for a moment before I pull onto the flatlane toward Steph’s house. “Do me a favor. Ask Jax to hop into the cabin when you get out. Don’t wanna drive him around like cattle.”
Five minutes later, Steph is gone, and in her place sits my Vandalar slave. He stares at me in awkward silence, that grin on his face refusing to go away.
I point at a weed-infested field. “That’s all part of Whispering Whillwheat.”
He leans forward, the tips of his curled horns half an inch from scratching up the yellowed headliner. “Whispering Whillwheat?”
“That’s the name of my place. I’m the only farmer of heirloom whillwheat on all Agari II. They export it as forage for cows on Earth since it causes eighty-three percent less flatulence.”
His striking eyes narrow into purple slits. “I see no grains, mistress.”
“Lilly,” I say and pull into my workshop. “And that’s half the fucking problem. In any case, it’s getting late, so we’ll talk about that tomorrow. Let’s get you settled first.”
I cut off the fusion panels and gesture him to get out of the truck. “Your collar is coded to the farm’s perimeter coordinates while I’m not with you.”
“I will not run,” he assures once more, and follows behind me to the kitchen door, the stone pathway lined with pink roses. Imported from when I still had hopes and dreams and shit like that.
“Just wanted to mention it.”
I let the access panel scan my DNA and give the door a hearty kick. “Home sweet… oh, fucking shit.”
I swat at a bitter whiff of burnt meat. God damn it, I forgot to put the slow cooker on warm before I left.
I immediately pull the windows open, unplug the gadget, and carry it straight out into the drive. Twenty Imperial Credits sit at the bottom, all wrinkly and sad, the roast as black as the crock.
“Yeah, well, that was supposed to be dinner,” I say and rake a hand through my hair. This day can’t get any worse. “PB&J sandwiches! Vandalar aren’t allergic to peanuts, are they?”
He shrugs and follows me back into the kitchen. “I’m not familiar with human foods.”
“Guess we’ll find out. I’ve got an EpiPen somewhere in the bathroom that my ex left behind.”
Do they ever expire?
I can’t accidentally kill my slave before he seeds my fields. “You can sit down at the kitchen table while I make us something to eat.”
He gives an uneasy glance at the small square table with two mismatched chairs, the paint long chipped to bare wood. “I should be the one preparing your meals.”
But I’m already ripping holes into the toast with a jelly-lathered knife. “You cook?”
“It’s one of the skills I excelled at back on my home planet.”
“Am I lucky or what?” I work my lips into a smile, breaking the ice and such. “Not gonna pretend here. I suck in the kitchen. Always have, as I’m sure you already figured out by now.”
Only when I sit down at the table with two plates does he join me, turning in his chair as he takes in the room. “Where are the others?”
“What others?”
He takes a bite of his sandwich and hesitates, the disgust written on his features, but he keeps chewing without a complaint. “Your other males.”
As if having one in the house isn’t enough of a setback already. “You’re the only one.”
His sandwich drops onto the plate, and his brows furrow. “I will be your only saikh?”
Saikh probably means slave? “Um, yup.”
“You honor me,” he breathes and bows his head way too low for comfort. “I promise you, Lilly, I will not disappoint you. I will please you with everything I have. Everything I am.”
Gosh, this guy is desperate. His eagerness is so cute; it’s almost creepy. “Look, don’t do this slave thing, okay? It makes me feel really uncomfortable. I want you to see this between us as more of a… um…” I point at my sandwich. “A partnership. I’m peanut butter. You’re jelly.”
Why do his eyes turn glassy? “A partnership?”
“Did I say something wrong? I’m not familiar with Vandalar, you know.”
“Neither am I with humans” His voice cracks with emotion. “But I will study you like the sacred writings of the saikhmenti, Lilly.”
“Oookay.”
Man, Keg’rik wasn’t lying when he said this dude would make me a willing slave. Guy acts as if I saved his life. Makes me feel so much better about this.
“Let me show you your bedroom. Hmm?”
My place isn’t big. A shoebox of a ranger, really, the discolored linoleum floor peeling in most places, with doors hanging crookedly from rusty hinges. But it’s clean, cozy, and mine… unless the Imperial Bank auctions it off from underneath my ass.
“This is where you’ll sleep.”
When his horns tap against the doorframe, he ducks his head and steps into the bedroom, nodding. It’s simple. A bed with bleached and sun-dried linen, a shelf with universal holo-books, and the desk even has a cosmihub I found used at an estate sale.
“I loaded some Earth movies and TV series
onto the cosmihub for you.” Like Yellowstone, Frontier, and some DIY channels. “Figured it would help you learn how to make yourself useful around here. I disabled the outgoing signal function, though. And the bathroom…”
I turn and open the door in the middle of the hallway. “Nothing special. A tub shower. Sink. Throne. It’s a Jack and Jill style bathroom, so each of our bedrooms has a door to it. Lock when you’re using it. You clean your mess. I clean mine. Towels are in the cabinet over there, and I left you a basket with tooth cleaners, soap, and stuff.”
“I like it very much,” he says, then his eyes catch mine. “Where do you sleep?”
“Oh, um, right next door. Only two bedrooms. Three, actually, but the third one is crammed full of seeds so the terrorhogs won’t get to them.”
He takes a deep breath, the fabric of his shirt struggling with the vast expanse of his chest. “I would like to wash myself before I start my… duties.”
“Yeah, absolutely. Let me just…” I grab a tooth cleaner from the basket by the sink. “How about you take a shower, and then join me in the living room across? So we can… you know, get to know each other?”
“Get to know each other,” he repeats with a flick of his tongue over his lower lip, closing the door.
I throw the abused pot roast into the terrorhog pen, close the windows, and double-check that I locked all the doors. Can’t be too cautious out here in the sticks, even with shotguns standing loaded in every corner. Might have to lock those up until we’ve established some necessary trust.
By the time I put the dishes in the sink, Jax steps out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a yellow towel wrapped around his waist, a metal collar… and hair. Raven black, long, the ends letting rivulets of water trail down his intricately scarred chest.
He catches my staring. “Kuchi.”
“Um, bless you?”
“Kuchi.” He runs a finger over the pale, raised skin, soft lines crowning his muscles like flowers in bloom. “That’s what we call these scars. I did most of them myself.”
“Oh. Seriously? Doesn’t that hurt?”
He nods, and his voice drops into something so deep I flinch. “But I don’t mind pain.”
Those purple eyes narrow on me, and I freeze when he takes a step toward me. “I’m ready to start my duties now.”
And then he growls.
Four
Lilly
That growl strikes a primal chord and vibrates straight into my clit, so intense I clench my thighs shut. My nipples harden to aching points, and panic floods my system.
Shock collar!
My lips part to give the command, but he beats me to it. “Not deep enough?”
Lips peel back into a snarl.
Another growl, deeper, and I moan in response, no matter how hard I try not to. An alarm goes off at some distant part of my brain.
Run, Lilly!
I turn away from him.
Thighs rub against each other.
I squeal at the friction.
Jax closes the distance and takes my hands, his purple eyes darker, predatory. “I haven’t growled in so long, it’s not as rich as it can be. Touch your male, woman.”
My throat turns dry from panting, and my voice is a needy groan. “My male…”
“That’s right.” Jax places my palms onto his shoulders, the scars decorating his skin raised and soft underneath my touch. “I will make you tremble against my mouth.”
He lifts his chin and guides my hands upward to where swirls start on his neck. Down a sculpted chest. Down across the ridged lines of muscle on his stomach, lower, lower, until they disappear underneath the towel.
“Your pupils are fully blown.” The way he trails his tongue along the side of my neck makes me shiver. “So responsive to my growl you’re trembling.”
Kiss after kiss along my jawline, my eyes grow heavier until they flutter shut. Thumbs brush over the fluffy fabric, and Jax tugs on the towel. It falls heavy to the ground, immediately replaced by a hard shaft pressing against my lower belly.
My mind rails against the touch.
Have… to… shock…
Oh shit, my entire body screams with such need I press myself against his cock. “What are you doing to me?” I snarl — but it comes out like a desperate whimper.
“Whatever pleases you, beautiful female,” he rasps, his guiding hands retreating from mine, wandering to the hem of my shirt. “I will have you yank my horns while I eat my fill on your sex. Make you scream for more still dizzy from release.”
Between my legs, I’m all fire and unrelenting yearning. That growl did something to me. Something I can’t control. Friction. I need it!
Taking his leg between mine, I rub myself on his muscular thigh like a bitch in heat. I moan at the pressure against sinew as if someone paid me for the performance.
He gives a sly grin. “So ripe.”
One tug, and Jax pulls the shirt over my head, my back arching at the drag of soft fabric over hyper-sensitive nipples. Nothing but a cluster of nerves, and I groan when he pinches one between his fingers.
“Oh my god,” I yelp, digging my nails into his waist.
“So sensitive to my touch,” he murmurs, skilled fingers unbuttoning my pants and fumbling them down right along with my panties. “Hold on to me, Lilly.”
“What?”
A tug on my thighs, and he lifts me up, labia dragging over a bumpy shaft before my clit throbs at how he presses me against his hard stomach.
Sure hands hold me in place, and Jax carries me into the living room where he lowers me onto the couch. “Let me explore your sex, female.”
His horns ram against my knees. “Spread for me.”
I writhe mindlessly.
Need him to touch me.
Need him to fuck me.
Shit, what is wrong with me?
“Vek, your cunt is wet,” he groans, gently stroking his hand around my pussy in slow circles. “Let me touch you.”
He tugs on my lower lips, prodding and pulling them apart. All the while, I brace feet against the couch and lift my pelvis, chasing after his touch.
“You’re too excited.” Another growl, this one cutting through me with such force I grow limp. “What is this little nub?”
A flick against my clit sends me over the edge, and I groan at the spasm it thunders deep into my womb.
“Very sensitive,” he mumbles.
His face disappears entirely, horns inching closer to my pussy. When he drags the tip of his tongue through my drenched lips, my entire body tenses, and I yelp.
Jax hesitates for a moment. “Too much.”
He laps at me again, but this time, with the pad of his tongue, spreading the pressure to cup my entire pussy. But he never reaches my clit.
Instead, he slowly draws wide circles around it with his thumb, the pressure so faint I have to be imagining it. But each time he reaches a specific spot, I open my legs wide and moan. Another moment of hesitation, and his finger settles on that very spot, right beside my clit.
His touch is deliberate, thoughtful, as if he’s tuning himself to each of my reactions no matter how small. All the while, he keeps lapping at my sex with broad strokes, ripples of pleasure vibrating through every cell of my being.
“The sweetest taste I’ve ever had on my tongue,” he rasps. “Grab my horns and guide my mouth, Lilly.”
“What?”
His fingertips dig into my thighs as one hand trails upward, fanning around my hip until they wrap around my wrist.
“Hold them tight.” He brings my hand to grab around his horn. “Show me how you want me.”
A small gasp escapes me, smooth ridges pressing almost velvety against my palm. I struggle against the urge to yank his face onto my drenched pussy. So deranged…
Deep down, at the core of my being, I know this is fucked up with a capital F. But the way he circles his thumb next to my clit? His touch such a persistent source of pure bliss? I fucking pull on his horn until each lap
dips slightly into my entrance.
“Just like that,” Jax groans, sucking my labia into his mouth, clasping his lips gently around them. “So wet with lust. Your cunt is responding well to consistency. I will remember that for next time.”
My mind explodes.
Next time?
The thought alone lets one shiver chase the next. Except that the shiver also curls my toes, and my entire body trembles under the force of my approaching orgasm.
I arch my back.
I squeeze his horn.
I roll my hips.
So close…
Until all pressure disappears. His thumb, his tongue, his mouth. Poof. It’s all gone, leaving nothing behind but a wave that ebbs away, frustration teasing a huff from my chest.
The breath of Jax’s laugh feathers across my wet hole. “Not so impatient, Lilly.”
I pull myself up on his horn, my voice a snarl. “Why did you stop?”
Did I just bark that at him?
Fifteen minutes ago, I wanted to shock him for making me feel this way. Now, I’m tempted to shock him for not finishing. Leaving me here in a slick puddle, the need to come agonizing.
“Relax.” He growls again, and I immediately let myself fall back while my entire body convulses at the sound. “Only a rookie would surrender you to your first peak of pleasure. Trust me.”
The circles continue right next to my clit, and he adjusts the position by tiny fractions until I spread my legs wide, bracing against the delicious sensation.
That tongue of his drags over my pussy again. Not that ‘flicking tip against clit’ thing other guys sometimes tortured me with. Hot and wet, the wide pressure cups so many nerve endings at once, it grinds me to bone-penetrating ecstasy.
His deep groans blend with my moans, and I’m almost strangling for breath. Electric currents flash through my groin and deep into my belly, and I lift my pelvis to grind myself over his mouth.
“Please,” I cry, that widespread tingle between my legs a warning.
That orgasm builds and builds, torturing me with endless seconds of searing heat. “Oh my fucking god!”
