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 go into a brief plank, then move into cobra, grateful I can remember the poses, at least. So much of my memory is missing, and it’s infuriating.
Krav was curious and surprisingly indulgent when I asked him for a mat. I had to explain what yoga was—which was no mean feat, let me tell you—and then detail the characteristics of a good mat. To my astonishment, he listened carefully for a moment and then, with a swirl of silver sparks, conjured one up out of thin air.
The guy can literally do magic. He went on to explain that that’s how I’m able to take him all the way in my throat and pussy—with a little enchanted help.
“I would break you, otherwise,” he told me.
No kidding. But when I asked him whether my other reactions were also induced by some kind of spell, he denied it. Which means—assuming he was being truthful—that I enjoy pain with my pleasure. That I have a submissive streak that makes me want to kneel at his big feet and worship at the altar of his raw dominance.
I’ve always been curious about BDSM, and now I’m getting the chance to explore it, it’s better than I ever imagined. But I’d better stop thinking about that, otherwise I’ll just get horny again. I heard that some women get a crazy high sex drive when they hit their forties, but this is a whole other level. Being easily aroused and wanting to bang more is one thing. Turning into a demon’s slavishly devoted fuckpet is quite another. I wonder if it has something to do with that whole Omega business, and freaking wish I could meet and talk to some of the other humans who are here on Ulfaria. Or, hell, just one of them.
Where are they? How did they get here? Are they actively looking for a way to get home? Do their partners treat them well? Do their partners make their clothing, too? Right now, I’m in Krav’s idea of something comfortable—a green shirt which is basically transparent, and black harem pants. At least I can move in it.
Goddamn that stupid purple asshole for keeping me in the dark about everything. There isn’t anyone else here I can ask. Krav lives alone except for a pet I’ve never seen, and his creepy shadow servants, who flit about silently and do all the menial stuff like housekeeping.
Sliding into extended child’s pose, I inhale slowly and close my eyes, trying not to think about how much I’d love a latte right about now. Then I’d head over to Texas Roadhouse for some of their delicious starter rolls with that sweet whipped butter…
Mindfulness, I remind myself sternly. Gratitude. Sure, this is a weird situation but it could be so much worse. You could have died. Krav could have literally killed and eaten you… or not been quite so strikingly attractive… or so focused on your pleasure. Yes, the food is strange, but at least you can eat it, and some of it is even tasty. You can understand what the aliens are saying—and speak their language. You can still do yoga.
I should just try to take things one day at a time, and be grateful for the silver linings in the meantime.
With fresh resolve, I rise up off my mat and take stock of the room Krav had prepared for me. It’s so freaking bare. It needs pictures, pillows, rugs, throws, scented candles…
It needs to be welcoming. Right now, there’s just a big bed with a metal frame that looms high above it and makes it look like a cage, a bare floor, and a window with what a realtor might call: a picturesque view of the surrounding lava lake.
Spinning on my heels, I set off in search of the demon.
Krav is in his library, peering intently at a set of scrolls. When I enter, he looks over and the corner of his mouth quirks up, revealing his dimple. “Pet. What can I do for you?”
“My bedroom. I need… things to make it nice. To make it pretty.”
His mystic topaz eyes flash with interest. “Is that so? Do you know why you want these things?”
“Is it important?” As it happens, I have no idea where this sudden urge has come from.
“No. I am happy to give you anything your heart desires.”
Aside from answers, I think savagely, but I favor him with a smile. Better to bring him around slowly. Wear him down over time. Cooperate. He doesn’t react well when I stamp my feet and demand things. “Thank you.” Then, when he makes no move to get up, “Er… d’you think we could do it right now, please?”
“This very moment?”
“Yeah. If that’s possible. Please.”
Setting his reading aside, he lumbers up out of his chair and I tense as he prowls in my direction, bracing myself for his scent to hit me. The bitter, musky chocolate rolls up through my core and I clench my thighs around the sudden longing. Like he can read my thoughts, Krav shoots me a wink as he strolls past me. “We could do other things in your bedroom, if you prefer.”