Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
I watch her sip the hot liquid. Her beautiful face contorts for an instant before she graces me with the biggest false smile. “Well?” I ask.
“I’ve gotta say that’s a no for the local cocoa. But I do appreciate the gesture. Honestly I do. What’s that other one?” She sets down her cup and reaches for the kasewl.
“It’s fermented, made from a sweet local root.”
Peering into the cup, she raises an eyebrow. “Looks like pondwater. Hope it tastes better than it smells!” Then, after a taste, “Holy moly! It…” she smacks her lips, “it’s kinda like funnel cake. How can that be?”
It’s also a powerful aphrodisiac but I want to wait a while before informing her about that little tidbit. “Do you like it?”
“Hell yeah I do!” She swallows the rest, tipping her head back, and as I watch her throat work, an idea forms in my mind. Placing the cup back on the tray, she turns to face me and tilts her head to one side. Her gaze is serious. “I want to get back to what we were talking about before.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“The other humans,” she clarifies. “You keep saying you want to give me whatever I want. I know you mean jewels and clothes and—” she waves at the tray behind her, “—you try to give me things I miss from home. And I appreciate all that, I do. But what I’m craving is answers to my questions. I’d take a chance to chat with one of these girls over the best cocoa in the galaxy.”
Her plea is sweet, sincere, but a stab of panic lances my chest nonetheless. Renee belongs to me. What if they turn her against me? Or put other silly notions in her head? My father never allowed my mother to mingle with other queens. An icy prickle of dread tingles along my spine. What if they’ve found a way to get her home? “No,” I say firmly, crossing my arms.
Her eyes widen. “That’s it? Just no?”
“Exactly. No.”
A gamut of different expressions flicker across her face. She’s casting about, working out how best to respond. “But… where’s the harm?” Her lower lip pooches out. “I just want to talk to them. One of them? I’d be happy with one!”
Rapidly losing my patience, I resort to something that never fails: I let out a low growl.
Renee gasps and takes a step back. Her pulse is fluttering in her throat. “Goddamnit,” she whispers. “I didn’t think that would work when I’m not in estrus…”
I suppress a smirk. “Come to the bedroom with me.” I extend a hand to her. “I have a surprise for you.”
“I thought you said we couldn’t… that it wouldn’t fit if—”
“I will make it fit. Magic, remember?”
“Oh. Yeah.” Still, she hesitates.
For some reason, it’s important to me that she comes willingly, so as much as I want to pounce on her and carry her to my bed, I wait, my hand still extended in invitation. “I’m going to count to three. If you haven’t taken my hand by then, I will leave you be,” I tell her. “Your choice. One…”
She licks her lips. “You’ll leave me be? What does that mean?”
“Let you have some time to yourself. I’ll still be here in the castle. Two…”
Her eyes are wide with confusion but I can scent her arousal. It’s much fainter than during estrus but it’s there. It’s been a while since she’s had any form of release, and the aphrodisiac must be working by now. I take a breath to say three, and she places her palm in mine.
Hiding my relief, I draw her to me, my hands traveling over her curves. My tail swishes around her waist to pull her closer. “That’s my good pet. Let’s adjourn to the bedroom so I can relieve this…” my fingertip slips between her thighs, drawing slow circles over the rigid bud of her clit, “ache.”
Renee gasps and clutches me. “Yes please… Master.”
As always, her use of that word floods my chest with warmth. “Good girl.”
My good girl.
Mine.
Renee
I must be under some kind of spell. Until tonight, I had put my newly discovered pleasure in submission down to this Omega estrus thing.
But I’m not in estrus anymore, and yet when that demon growled, I almost came on the spot.
Then he confused me more by asking me to go to bed with him. Krav never asks. He orders. He takes. He commands. Is this new show of respect because of the recent conversation we had about consent? Or is it because he’s no longer in rut?
While I’m desperate to continue making my case for meeting the other Earth women—or at least one of them—I’m old enough to know when to keep pushing a subject, and when to bide my time. In that regard, Krav is easy to read. So I’ll drop the topic. For now.