Untamed Hunger

by Tiffany Roberts

  “It’s an unnecessary risk all the same, Nostrus.” Master Foltham brought up a holoscreen over his desk and opened his contacts list. “It takes a particular skillset to hunt beasts like this azhera, a mindset that advanced beings like you and I are simply too sophisticated to comprehend. We need to call upon someone closer to his level. You may assist in coordination, but you will have no direct role in this matter, not until my terran and that thieving azhera are securely in our custody. Is that clear?”

  Clenching his fists at his sides, Nostrus lifted his gaze to meet Master Foltham’s. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. You may go begin the preparations to receive Gau’cil the day after next.” Master Foltham waved his fingers. “I’ll begin orchestrating the hunt for our little fugitives.”

  Fortunately, Nostrus managed to catch his tongue between his teeth before he could say anything in response. This had gone far better than he could’ve expected, and it was best not to push his luck. He’d press the matter of personally hunting the azhera another time. With a final nod, he turned and exited Master Foltham’s study.

  A piercing ache radiated from the center of his hand outward to his fingertips; it felt like a metal spike was being hammered through his bones. He assured himself that he wasn’t giving up—he would reclaim his lost honor, or he would die trying.

  Eight

  The scent of leather and cloves filled Shay’s senses as she slowly roused. She inhaled deeply, drawing more of that delicious aroma into her lungs. It brought a sense of peace, a sense of comfort, and sparked a heat that spread through her body and pooled low in her belly. She shifted on her pallet and moaned as her shirt rasped across her tight, sensitive nipples, which sent another pulse to her already throbbing sex.

  Her eyelids fluttered open to darkness as total as it had been while her eyes were closed. She didn’t know how long she’d slept, didn’t know how close she was to her alarm going off, and she didn’t care. Her body was ablaze, aching in a way it hadn’t in months. Had she been dreaming? If so, she couldn’t recall those dreams, but they’d clearly sent the right signals to the right places. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this aroused.

  She hadn’t had sex in at least five months. Between getting kidnapped by aliens, being sold as pet and kept in a cell, and recently working herself to exhaustion, she hadn’t given sex a thought. But a little self-indulgence, a little pleasure, couldn’t hurt, could it?

  Rolling onto her back, Shay closed her eyes again. She ignored her uncomfortable bedding and focused on the sensations as she slowly trailed the fingertips of her right hand down her chest, over the swells of her breasts, which had grown fuller and more sensitive during her pregnancy, and pinched her nipple through her shirt. Her breath hitched at the pleasure that arced through her. Her pussy clenched, aching to be touched, to be relieved, so tightly that it was almost painful.

  In the past, Shay would’ve taken her time, would’ve prolonged the act as much as possible. But there was no need now. Her body demanded release.

  Moving her hand farther down, she slipped it beneath the waistband of her underwear, spread her thighs, and eased her fingers between the folds of her sex. The slightest brush against her engorged clit made her gasp with a blast of pleasure. She arched her back and turned her face to the side, grasping the jacket beside her and pulling it close to her nose.

  For a moment, she held perfectly still, letting the sensation ease. When she took in a shuddering inhalation, her senses were again overwhelmed with that leather and clove scent.

  Her pussy was slick, and her panties were soaked with her need. Biting her bottom lip, Shay stroked her clit again, moving her fingers in gentle, circular motions. Her hips rocked of their own accord as the euphoric sensations heightened. Her panting breaths escalated in volume.

  She imagined another hand—a much larger, rougher hand, its fingers tipped with deadly claws but its touch confident and gentle. A hand connected to a muscled, fur-covered arm that belonged to a vibrant green-eyed azhera.

  “Drakkal,” Shay cried out as she came, body seizing. Her pussy clenched around nothing, and her thighs snapped together, locking her hand in place as the sensations became too much for her to stand. Liquid heat flooded her. She pressed the jacket to her face and muffled her cries, unwilling to let the neighbors hear her release.

  It wasn’t until her body eased and the sleep and desire fogging her mind had cleared that Shay realized whose name she’d said.

  Drakkal.

  It had been him she’d imagined touching her, him she’d envisioned, and it had been him who’d had sent her over the edge. It had likely been his scent that worked her body to such ravenousness as she’d slept—and it was his damned jacket clutched in her fist, currently pressed against her face.

  Thrusting the jacket away, Shay yanked her hand out from between her thighs and groaned as she lay back on her pallet, staring up into the darkness. Her skin tingled, her legs trembled, and her face was warm in the aftermath of her orgasm. Despite her frustration and embarrassment, she felt…good. Relaxed.

  But no less needy.

  If anything, she wanted more, and she didn’t think her hand was going to cut it no matter how many times she brought herself to climax.

  “Fuck.”

  Yes, please. A nice fucking would do. A rough, hard pounding with soft fur brushing against my ass and the backs of my thighs as clawed hands—

  “Damn it!” She struggled into a sitting position and rubbed her eyes with her clean hand. “It’s just…pregnancy hormones. That’s all. It’s making me all sorts of crazy, and now I’m fantasizing about some alien werecat with a nice big co—ah come on! Lights on.”

  As the lights flickered on, she got to her feet and gathered her damp sheets, muttering, “Losing my goddamned mind.”

  So much for the alleged stress-relieving effects of orgasms.

  She carried her bedding into the bathroom, shoved it into the auto-washer, and started it. When she turned, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks were flushed, and her blue eyes shone. All she was missing were kiss-swollen lips and she’d look like she’d been properly fucked.

  If only.

  “Ugh.”

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “That’s enough. No more thoughts about sex.” Opening her eyes, she looked down at her holocom and pressed the button on the side. It was two hours before her alarm. “Fuuuuuck. It’s going to be a long day.”

  Her gaze dropped to her bedding. “Might as well get started.”

  She’d take a shower, eat breakfast—without having to hurry—and, when the time came, go find out if she still had a job.

  She had to think about the azhera’s offer, after all, not his large, powerful body, his big, strong, hands, his green, heated stare, and his long, thick cock jutting from between—

  “Damn it!”

  Fortunately—or rather, unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it—Shay was still employed.

  Pain radiated through her jaw, which she’d clenched in her effort to keep her mouth shut. She stood still, chin up, eyes forward, refusing to feel as small as she was compared to the ranting groalthuun towering over her. It was a good thing her blaster was holstered beneath her jacket, or she would have been tempted to go for it the moment her boss had looked at her and spat terran ji’tas.

  She’d been around aliens long enough to know calling her ji’tas was basically saying she was a prime candidate for being made a sex slave and little else.

  At some point during his ranting, which flowed freely between his native tongue and Universal Speech—all of it easily understandable thanks to her translator—the urge to pull her blaster grew so strong that she forced herself to stop listening.

  I need this job, she repeatedly reminded herself.

  But do I though?

  Her thoughts turned toward Drakkal and his offer.

  I can give you a safe place to live and work that pays well. A chance to build a futu
re, to build a present.

  Could she trust him? Was his offer real? Everything she’d learned over the last several years told her it was a setup, that she’d be stupid to trust him, especially after what she’d done to him. But if he really meant to hurt her, why had he rung her doorbell and asked to come inside to talk?

  He had money at his disposal, that much was clear, and he was a capable male. She had no doubt that he could’ve easily entered her apartment without her knowledge whether subtly or by force, especially with that cybernetic arm. Wouldn’t it have been easier for him to kidnap her in her sleep or something?

  Yorgaz thrust a thick finger into Shay’s face, startling her out of her thoughts and calling her attention back to him.

  “One more mess up, ji’tas, and you’re done. No more work. And maybe I call my friends and see if they have use for you,” Yorgaz said.

  Fire blazed in her belly, and the words burst like lava from her mouth. “You’re not going to fucking stand here and threaten me.”

  Yorgaz recoiled slightly. “What did you say to me, terran?”

  Shay glared at him. “You heard me. You barely pay me as it is, and I definitely don’t get paid enough to listen to this shit.” She stepped forward, tilted her head back, and jabbed her finger at him, poking his chest. “I don’t respond well to threats. You deduct your damned lost flyers from my pay if you want—not like you would’ve known the difference if I tossed them in the trash and told you I passed them all out—but you’re not going to intimidate me. I’ve dealt with bigger, badder men than you, you fucking goat, and my patience is just about worn out.”

  As she continued her advance, Yorgaz backed away, his dark eyes going wide. The fine scales on his face paled; clearly for all his bluster, he hadn’t been prepared for Shay to stand up for herself.

  “Now are you going to give me my flyers for the day so I can get to work, or are we going to have trouble?” she demanded.

  He swallowed thickly and, without taking his gaze off her, slapped his hand on the counter beside him to grope around until he found the stack of paper-thin holographic flyers. He grabbed them and very nearly spilled them all on the floor as he thrust them toward her.

  “G-get to work, terran.”

  Shay took the flyers and smiled wide. “Thank you.”

  Without another word, she left his office and made her way back out onto the streets toward her assigned location. She wove easily through the crowds, and was unable but to contemplate again how, despite being of different races, sizes, shapes, and appearances, despite coming from countless different worlds and cultures, everyone here shared that common, unifying trait. They didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything apart from getting to wherever they were going.

  Once she reached her corner, she got to work, offering flyers and calling out to passersby. Time drudged on at a sluggish pace. Several times, the hairs on the back of her neck rose, and she could have sworn she was being watched. But every time she swept her gaze over the crowd, she didn’t see any faces that stood out, couldn’t find the eyes that were fixated upon her. Everyone else seemed to be going about their business, so she continued to go about hers.

  As was the norm, most everyone ignored her. Some cast her curious glances, a couple actually took the damned flyers, and one or two of those who took them did so only to throw the flyers back at her.

  Why am I doing this?

  She dropped her arm and stood there, mouth pursed and turned to one side as she seriously considered that question. She’d been offered something that sounded so much better—a safe place to live, a good wage…a future for her and her baby. Why the hell was she still out here? Why hadn’t she jumped on Drakkal’s offer?

  Because I need to be sure. I need to know the azhera and his offer were legit. That my baby will want for nothing, that it’ll be safe.

  His offer has to be real though, right? If he wanted to hurt me or take me, he could have done that at any time.

  That wasn’t really how things worked, though. People were patient. Sometimes, they took their time in hurting you. Sometimes they wanted to soften you up before sinking in that knife. But what was her alternative? Hit the streets and find something else, knowing that almost no one wanted to hire a terran for anything but sex work, or get arrested for shooting her boss in the face?

  Shay lifted her wrist and looked down at her holocom. A single call was all it’d take. She’d be off this street, living somewhere nice, somewhere safe and secure, eating food that wasn’t unidentifiable slop, and—

  A hand squeezing her ass brought her thoughts to a sudden, screeching halt.

  “What a delicious little morsel,” a rumbling voice said from behind her.

  Shay whipped around, baring her teeth. Three eyes—blue against black—stared down at her.

  The tall, horned, sedhi grinned, flashing his fangs as he stepped closer. His tail eased forward to stroke her leg. “Forget the flyers, ji’tas. How much for you?”

  Nine

  Though he’d never been a fan of crowds—a city like Arthos was the last place he would’ve chosen to live, had things gone differently for him—Drakkal was grateful for the mass of pedestrians today. In a less crowded setting, he would’ve stood out like a tralix at a volturian dinner party, but here they provided him some cover.

  Some small part of him said this was wrong—or at least that Shay might see it as such—but his instincts were insistent enough to drown out that little voice of doubt. He needed to know his terran was safe. This was the only way he knew how to accomplish that—watching her. It didn’t matter if she wanted him to or not, it was what he had to do. It wasn’t much different than what he’d done for Arcanthus for years, was it?

  Apart from Arcanthus having asked me to do it and being fully aware of my presence and my methods…

  Though Arc did have the cren brothers keep an eye on Samantha without her knowledge.

  He sighed and muttered, “Not sure that makes it right, Drak…”

  He stood against the outside of a building, only fifteen or twenty meters away from Shay. He’d donned a long, dull gray coat, hoping it would obscure his frame a little better than the more form-fitting leather jackets he preferred. The hood was a bonus, even if he hated the feel of it over his mane and ears. Shay was dressed in a green hooded jacket, form-fitting black leggings, and boots. More than once, Drakkal found himself hoping she’d move in such a way that the hem of her jacket would rise to afford him the sight of those leggings hugging her ass and thighs—not that the thick flow of pedestrians would’ve afforded him a clear view.

  So I’m not just a stalker, I’m an aroused stalker. Nothing at all wrong with that…

  Drakkal didn’t know if she’d been assigned this location for work or if she’d chosen it herself, but every time she was ignored or rebuked by a passerby, a spark of rage flared in Drakkal’s chest. Violence had been a part of his life in some fashion or another for almost as long as he could remember, but he’d never been so motivated toward it for so petty a reason. He wanted to attack everyone who glanced at her in a way that could be interpreted as even mildly rude.

  But he held himself back. He’d made mistakes when it came to Shay, and he intended to keep them to a minimum going forward. That meant leaning on the patience he’d commanded before meeting her. It meant drawing on the skills he’d learned as a hunter long before Arthos was anything more to him than a distant, almost mythical city he had no desire to see.

  Yet despite his considerable willpower, it was a unique sort of torture to be so close to her without being able to interact with her, especially given how good it felt to finally speak to her yesterday. Their conversation in her apartment had eased the stress that had built in Drakkal over the last three weeks—and he wanted to capitalize on the progress they’d made. He wanted to woo her, as Arcanthus had suggested.

  And how would that go? Hello Shay, I was just stalking you and I found myself wondering if you wanted to get some lunch?

&
nbsp; He’d been watching her for a few hours with his tail pinned against the wall behind him to keep it still when the sedhi approached her. Though Drakkal couldn’t see the entirety of their bodies—and therefore their interactions—through the constant flow of foot traffic, he knew Shay was not comfortable with the sedhi’s presence by her expression.

  Keeping his eyes on Shay and the sedhi, Drakkal stalked closer, shifting his ears beneath his hood to focus his hearing forward.

  “How much for you?” the sedhi asked.

  Drakkal hadn’t wanted to punch a sedhi in the teeth that much since he’d seen Arcanthus that morning.

  “I’m not for sale, so fuck off. And don’t touch me again,” Shay snapped. She turned away from the sedhi, her bright blue eyes spitting fire into the crowd as she raised a flyer. “Check out the Spectacular Skrudge Show!”

  Drakkal’s brows fell low, his fur bristled, and a growl sounded from deep in his chest. The sedhi had touched her? Instinct rapidly overpowered Drakkal’s rational thought. He increased his pace, eyes locked on the sedhi as a red haze flooded his vision.

  The sedhi reached forward and grabbed Shay’s shoulder. As he spun her around, he said, “I’m talking to you—”

  Were he not so experienced a fighter himself, Drakkal might’ve missed what happened next—it was fast, much faster than he’d expected from a terran. Shay dropped the flyers in her left hand, lifting that arm and using the momentum created by the sedhi’s pull to bat away his hand. She hammered her right fist into the sedhi’s chin before he could react.

  The sedhi’s head snapped back, and he staggered back a step, grating a curse. The crowd eased back from the terran and her foe, finally granting Drakkal a clear view.

  Drakkal’s heart stilled when the sedhi recovered and swung his arm in a counterattack. Shay was too small, too delicate to take such a blow from being so much bigger than her. Drakkal charged forward, but he wouldn’t get there in time.