Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
"Tessa," she reminds me, a hint of a smile curving her lips as she gazes up at me.
"Tessa, then."
Her fingers move up my abdomen, and she cocks her head, glancing up at me. "How do you want me, then?"
"On the bed, same as before." I swallow hard, fascinated by her. I want to stare at her for hours, to watch her subtle movements—even as I want to cover her and just pound into her tight cunt endlessly. I'm obsessed, and it's getting worse by the minute.
"Plas-film?" she asks, tugging at the towel on my hips. I let it slide away, showing her my already-hard cock. "If you're worried I'm unclean, the slavemaster had us medically cleared before sale. And you can't make a human pregnant. It'd be like breeding cats and dogs and hoping they can somehow make a baby."
She keeps talking. Part of me wants to tell her to be silent, to get on all fours so I can rut into her…but I like the sweet curve of her mouth as she speaks. I like the way her eyes show her emotion as she glances up at me. I like the way her fingers glide over my skin and her voice is soft and musical and not what I expected a human to sound like. I thought they'd be…squeakier. Higher pitched. The female—Testa?—sounds different than a mesakkah female, but it's not irritating. It's nice.
And she's telling me I don't need plas-film.
Slowly, I nod. "On the bed, then."
"We could do it face to face," she offers, a hopeful expression in her gaze. "Look at each other while we have sex?"
My jaw clenches and I shake my head. That's the last thing I want. My face is unpleasant enough without the release of sex contorting my expression. I don't want her staring at my mouth, or the large, shining portion of my cranium. I don't want to see her shudder with distaste while I claim her. "Hands and knees."
"You're the boss," she says with a sassy little shrug, and moves to the bed.
I'm on her before she's in position, and her little squeak of surprise just makes me harder. I run my hands over her hips as she raises them in the bed, and touch her between her thighs, looking for that hot spot. She whimpers when I find it, her fingers digging into the blankets, and she lowers her shoulders so her face presses into the blankets. She closes her eyes and her face looks so strained that I pause. "Am I hurting you?"
She shakes her head, almost frantic. "You just…go right for the meal ticket. That's all."
I have no idea what she means. "Should I stop touching you? Does it feel bad?" Experimentally, I slide my fingers up and down her cunt. She's still damp from before, but not like she was. I stroke a finger into her cunt and she moans, fisting the blankets and pulling them to her face. She says something, but it's muffled by the bedding. "What was that?"
The female—Dess?—lifts her head. "I said you're far too good at that," she pants, looking disgruntled.
For some reason, her response makes me want to preen like a strutting idiot. "Am I not supposed to be?" I caress the nub between her thighs and am rewarded with a flex of her cunt around my finger, as if she seeks to latch onto my cock.
"I just…" she pants. "Wasn't…expecting…this." She pushes her hips up, a silent request for more touching, and makes another delicious little sound when I circle her pleasure spot. "Thought we'd just…fuck…you know?" Her face scrunches up again and she lets out an explosive breath of air. "Fuck…you're…fuuuuck." Her hips gyrate against my fingers as I stroke her nub.
I deliberately slow my movements, petting her with even slower touches. "It feels better when you enjoy it. Why would I not want this?"
"Because…you don't even…want my name…"
"Tell me what this little thing is called," I say, caressing the small bead of flesh. "Is it your spur? My spur is not nearly so sensitive." I thought I'd just come out here and sink into her, use her, and find a place for her to sleep tonight, but I'm finding that I like watching her responses. She seems almost…mad…that I am pleasuring her, and that fascinates me. Doesn't she want pleasure out of this? It seems far more sensible to enjoy bedding me if she's going to be doing it for several weeks—perhaps even months.
Even now, that doesn't seem like enough time. I find myself oddly greedy when it comes to this female.
She whimpers, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Zakoar…"
I rub it slower, even though her cunt is sopping with juices. I can feel the effect my touch is having on her, how she trembles with every glide of my fingers around that small button. "Yes?"