Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
"I thought so..." She gasps as I rip the loose collar of her shift open with a popped claw and then slide down so I can mouth the rosy tip of her exposed breast. "That was a new nightgown."
"I'll get you a dozen." I lick her nipple, loving the little cry she makes.
Her head thrashes, and then she smacks against something hard. "Ow!"
I look up even as Maeve picks up the discarded datapad. She's about to toss it aside when I snatch it from her hands, sitting up. "Wait!"
"Wh-what?" She props up on her elbows, disheveled and flushed. "Can't it wait?"
"You have to see this," I tell her, ignoring the throb of my cock through my trou. It's too important to get distracted from. I pull up the vid and display it in the air, watching it play out with sheer disgust. The gladiator turns slowly in the air, striking a pose and then displaying his fangs in an effort to look menacing. With a scowl, I can't help but notice that his plain buff coloring doesn't have the dramatic effect that it should against the steel-colored fabric of the ornate tunic he wears. The matching cape on his back looks awful with all the jewelry he's studded onto the fabric. Even the trou are a little too short for him, and they don't fit him properly. Hmph. He picked the wrong boots to wear with the trou, too.
Maeve watches the clip wordlessly. When it's done and the feed starts to loop again, she turns to me. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"
"His clothes!"
Her brows furrow and then she lifts her shoulders in a small shrug. "They're kind of ridiculous, don't you think—"
"They're mine," I roar.
"What?"
"That's my favorite diplomacy suit! It was in my trunks when they were stolen!"
"He looks like he's covered in silvery foil!" She gestures at the feed. "He looks like a gigantic baked potato! I'm glad you've never worn that!"
"It's my favorite," I mutter, wounded. "And it's steel colored."
She stares at me for a moment and then bursts into giggles. Maeve flings herself back on the bed, laughing. She wipes tears from her eyes. "I'm picturing you in that and...it's killing...my lady boner..."
I roll away from her, scowling. "Never mind. I no longer wish to mate you."
It's a lie. Even now my cock is throbbing. Even now I want to bury my face against Maeve's breasts and mouth her nipples. It's just...it's a silver tunic and matching trou. And cape. It's dignified. It represents the steel backbone of Praxii Minor. It doesn't matter that it's monochrome. And shiny. It's keffing mine.
"I should demand that gladiator return my stolen trunks. Then I'm going to put a bounty on Zebah's head for selling my things."
"You're not going to do anything of the sort," Maeve tells me, still chuckling. "You're going to leave it alone and be glad that you didn't wear that sort of thing when I met you, or else I never would have let you in my bed."
"Please," I scoff, sitting up. "You wanted me the moment I found your G-spot. You looked at me like I'd just discovered a new galaxy."
Maeve immediately puts her hands on my chest and pushes me back down onto the bed. I give her another wounded glare, but she's smiling so broadly it's hard to stay mad. "I like you much better like this."
"Wearing plain peasant clothing?" I retort, even though I'm not. My clothes are tailored and made of good, high-quality fabrics. They're just not very ostentatious, and I'm not wearing any jewelry except a few hoops in my ears. I'm practically naked by praxiian standards.
"It has nothing to do with your clothing," my mate purrs, and slings her leg over my hips. She's not wearing anything under her torn shift, and one breast peeks out even as her hot cunt rubs up against the aching bulge of my cock.
"Oh?" I run my hand down her thigh as she grinds against me. Kef, I like it when she gets on top and uses me for her pleasure. It's like we're both pretending that I can't do anything about it, that she's being careless with me, when nothing could be further from the truth. I could overpower her in a heartbeat. I just choose not to. I choose to let her take control...and then we both have a good time.
"I like you like this," she continues in her sultry voice, rocking against my cock. "Hard and eager underneath me."
I groan, because I like this, too.
"Now open your trou for me," she whispers, lifting her hips.
I slide my hand between us, deftly unfastening my trou and pulling my cock free from the fabric confines. Immediately, I guide it to her cunt, dragging the tip through her folds and she rubs against me with a delighted whimper. "Better?"