Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
“What’s that?” I moan the question.
He purrs the answer in my ear. “Good.”
I pull away a little.
“I’ve always been good.”
“I find that very hard to believe, pirate.”
“I am a very good pirate.”
He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that I get the sense must be rather rare for him, because he seems as surprised to make the sound as I am to hear it.
“You have a mouth, don’t you, Raine.”
“I run a ship full of women,” I say. “It’s mandatory.”
He pulls his finger slowly from me, making me stifle another one of those thoroughly traitorous moans.
“Too many words can only lead to complications and arguments,” he says. “I do not tolerate talking back, nor do I allow impudence in matters of speech. If you wish to avoid punishment, you will keep your tone civil and you will be polite in all ways.”
I want to tell him to fuck off, but before I can form anything in the way of response, his finger is sliding back inside me and I am feeling all the emotional repercussions of that repeated intrusion. I can’t say he’s fucking me, really. The movements are too slow, too deliberate, and too calculated for that.
He is testing me. He is seeing how I work. He is watching me closely, his eyes sweeping over my face and down my body and back to my face again. I want so desperately to hide the effect he is having on me, but stoic as I am, he is breaking through my customary facade and finding all sorts of soft and sensitive places.
“Do you have a mate?” He asks the question in a rough, curious tone.
I hesitate a moment. I have no mate, but I wonder what he would do if he thought I did? Would he stop this exploration? Would he give my body, and therefore my mind, back to me? I am so addled right now, so entirely filled with sensations that make thinking almost impossible.
“I have a mate,” I lie.
I don’t owe him the truth, I tell myself, even as I instantly feel a very unpleasant twisting of guilt in my gut. He’s a hostile alien holding me captive. I am under absolutely no obligation to be truthful with him or to cooperate in my captivity.
“Liar.”
He growls the word and adds a second finger, pushing it inside me quite swiftly, filling me almost as full with two fingers as I would be if an average human male were to have his cock inside me. This is the fate of being female, to be filled, to have some part of me always close to being conquered. This alien is taking full advantage of my biology.
He is close to me. Very close. He enjoys leaning in and growling these things close to my ear. He has to stoop down in order to take me this way, which makes him perhaps slightly vulnerable. I spot that there is a part of his neck, right where it meets the shoulder, where there is something of a break in his scales. With two of his fingers buried in my pussy, and his accusation of lying ringing in my ear, I lash out with my teeth, biting him in what might be a vulnerable spot.
His skin is resilient and tough beneath my teeth. I could not break it no matter how hard I bit down. But I do make some kind of an impression. I hear another growl — not an angry one, but one that sounds like arousal. His fingers move deeper, and his other hand reaches around to grip my punished, welted ass. He pulls me hard against his hand, grinding my clit against the palm of his large hand. Now it is impossible to hide my moans. He is gripping me tight, making pure pleasure race through me. This might have been punishment to begin with, but it isn’t anymore. This is intense intimacy.
I don’t release my grip on his neck either. I hold it and I suckle, and I listen to the answering growling sounds that have to indicate his own growing need. Is it smart to turn my behemoth alien captor on this way? He could put more than his fingers in me, and I am sure that his cock would be much larger than I can take.
But I can’t stop myself. This is the first inkling of control I’ve gotten, the first time I’ve felt as though I can affect him in even half the way he affects me. The grip on my sore ass makes me wriggle and even whimper against his neck. He has to know there is pain, but he must also be feeling the way my pussy is gripping his fingers and saturating them with need.
“You like to play dangerous games,” he says. “You should be careful.”