Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Ashley had seemed amenable to their possible mating during their first date. She kept mentioning that T’zaren was “really handsome for an alien guy” and also that he was “really big and totally shredded,” whatever that meant.
T’zaren had heard of “shredded cheese,” which was a kind of dairy product made from the squeezings of an Earth animal’s mammary glands, but he had never equated such an idea to himself. However, since most humans liked cheese, he decided her words must be a compliment.
Ashley, had suggested that they “go back to her place” after the initial date and T’zaren had been willing. However, when she tried to initiate intercourse, things got awkward.
“I cannot mate with you until I ascertain if you are my S’rentha or not,” T’zaren had told her. So far her touch hadn’t caused his Sen Stripe to flare, but maybe it was because she hadn’t been touching him with enough force—enough intimacy, he reasoned to himself. His Sire had told him that the right female would be able to inflame him with even the lightest touch, but of course he had been talking about a female of their people—of the Stri’vor Monstrum. Possibly with a human female, more force was necessary.
And so he had made his request—the one that made Ashley draw back from him in apparent disgust.
“You want me to what?” she’d demanded again.
“Bite me. Here.” T’zaren pointed to the side of his muscular neck. The throat was a point of both power and submission among his people. To offer it willingly to a female was a great honor—but clearly Ashley didn’t understand that.
“Eww—no!” she’d exclaimed, stepped away from him with her hands raised in revulsion. “Look, I don’t know what kind of freaky alien sex you’re into but I am not like that.”
“I’m not asking you for anything ‘freaky,’” T’zaren had growled stiffly. “This is perfectly normal among my people. I just need to know if you’re my true S’rentha—the female I can dedicate my life to. The one I can worship and protect and care for forever.”
But his words had not calmed Ashley. In fact, if anything they had only made things worse.
“The one you can worship? Look,” she said, putting one hand on her skinny hip and frowning at him. “I might look like I’d make a good Dominatrix—I mean, my agent is constantly trying to get me to do modeling gigs like that—but I am not into that weird-ass shit. I’m not going to slap you around or tie you up and spank you or anything else like that! Gross!”
T’zaren had been bewildered. Why would he want her to tie him up? As for “slapping him around,” a warrior might have to endure pain for the sake of his S’rentha, but that was considered an honor, not a humiliation or a curse.
When a male knelt at the feet of his S’rentha—his personal Goddess—he did so from a position of strength. It was not so much a sign of his submission to her as an expression of respect and love—letting her know she was worthy of his worship and protection—worthy of him devoting the rest of his life to her.
He tried to explain all this, but he must have done it badly, because Ashley had kicked him out of her domicile and instructed him to “lose her number” whatever that meant.
He assumed it meant she didn’t want to see him again, which was fine with T’zaren—he hadn’t really been very attracted to her anyway. He had only “swiped right” on her picture on the dating app because she had looked like what a true S’rentha was supposed to look like.
But inside, she had been lacking—she hadn’t had the strength of personality and character that would earn his respect and cause him to kneel before her, T’zaren admitted to himself. It was just that he was lonely and wished for a female—that was the only reason he had even gone back to her domicile in the first place.
As he stood under the tree beside the riverbank after his failed “date,” he was considering these things when two human females came into view. One of them had smooth brown skin and long, tightly braided curls. She was also obviously spoken for—not just because of her rounded, pregnant belly but because of the scent of the Drake Kindred that hung around her like forbidding perfume, warning any other male away.
However, her companion—the short, curvy blonde—had no male’s scent on her. Which meant she was available, T’zaren thought as he watched her speculatively. She was nothing like a S’rentha ought to be, though. She was short instead of tall, and her hair and eyes were light instead of dark. Also, she smiled and laughed too much—at one point she and the other human female laughed so hard they wiped tears of mirth from their eyes!