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)
I would have agreed before being captured by him. Being careful was my watchword. I mutinied against Captain Sullivan out of a desire to be more careful. But I don’t care anymore. Caution be damned. I want to follow the impulses being ignited by our bodies. So I nip him again, more playfully this time. I am not trying to hurt him. I am inviting him to be a little softer, to meet me in our shared lust, no matter how wrong it is.
Outside, the wind is howling a gale. The sound reminds me how free and wild I can be, and how primal this very planet is. Everything in this world is simple in a way much of the universe no longer is. We travel from sophisticated place to sophisticated place, endeavoring to extract local wealth. We prey on those we consider to be weak. Trade vessels. Pleasure vessels. Roamers. Strays. Occasionally we hit a patrol vessel, but that’s usually by mistake. Point is, I am usually the most dangerous and frightening thing in any given room. But not today. Today I am in the arms of a truly terrifying creature who has taken me in hand and demonstrated in undeniable ways that he intends to put a stop to my reign.
Avel slides the fastener down on his pants, that one little seam that keeps everything appropriate. His cock springs free. It is huge, marbled with lighter and darker streaks of purple, and scaled along the shaft all the way to the head. When it lies along the inside of my thigh, it seems absolutely outlandish in scale. I am intimidated as hell, but just as excited. Will he actually try to fuck me? Or will he decide I am too small and too weak to take him?
Avel
At first, I did not understand Thorn’s attraction to the human who now warms his bed. I thought it very strange for him to be emotionally invested in a creature that was so very delicate and yet so unconcerned by her own survival. I do not understand humans. These women seem to experience an almost inexorable call to the void, throwing themselves into danger at the slightest provocation seemingly for the thrill of it all. I thought it was limited to the one the captain captured, but if anything this beautiful human woman is wilder still.
I let her bite me, the slight pain only encouraging my own animal impulses. She can nip and growl all she likes. She can be a disobedient little alien creature demanding discipline — and I will be only too pleased to provide it.
She releases her mandibular grip and leans back so she can look up at me. She wants to know what effect she is having. She wants to hurt me. I can see that in her wicked gaze. She has been thoroughly chastised, but her pride will not allow her to simply learn the lesson. Her eyes search mine with a particular hunger I well know: did that hurt? I hope it did.
I feel her inner walls gripping my fingers as our eyes meet, and I take this moment of intimate surrender to look down at her and inspect her soft human features more closely.
She has dark hair much like mine, though it has violet streaks running back from her temples. I do not know if that is natural or not. Her eyes are a brilliant sky blue. Her face bears a scar or two, one that runs across from her left temple to her eyebrow — a wound that must have bled profusely at the time and very nearly taken her sight. There is another on the other side of her face, running from under her earlobe down to her chin. That wound must have been incredibly close to removing her head entirely. This woman is a warrior. I understand warriors, even if I do not understand human women.
Beating her was a pleasure. I truly enjoy punishing those who deserve it, and there is no doubt that she is deserving. It has no doubt been a long time since she encountered anyone capable of besting her. I imagine the reddish discoloration on her face and chest, places I did not strike her, are manifestations of the shame she must surely feel at having been so thoroughly handled.
Or perhaps it is arousal? I can scent a delicious smell coming from between her thighs, where the dark hair glistens with a dampness that entices me into further exploration. She grinds against me, her hips making constant circular movements that invite mating. The motion makes her whipped cheeks undulate back against my palm as I sink my fingers inside her mating channel, finding it surprisingly strong and elastic. I did wonder how Thorn mated his human — marveled at her ability to take his saurian cock. Now I understand. This woman is made to be fucked. Her body is soft but strong and supple, and the space nature made for a male to take his pleasure is admirably suited to the task.