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)
“Oh,” Lucy whispered, stroking the silver markings on his neck. “Oh, T’zaren…”
“Enough!” The whip-crack voice of Mistress Shin’dara broke the tender moment that had somehow grown between them.
Lucy looked up, frowning at her.
“All right—I marked him. Permanently,” she said, pointing to the silver bite-marks on T’zaren’s deep blue skin. “Now will you agree to sell us the dimriel?”
At first the Twainer looked angry, but then a small, cruel smile began to play around her thin lips.
“Yes, actually—I will,” she said, nodding. “But first we must discuss the little matter of payment…”
FORTY-ONE
T’ZAREN
“How much do you want?” Lucille was already reaching for the credit band Commander Rarev had given her. “I have more than enough.”
T’zaren watched the proceedings with hazy eyes. He had never offered his throat to a female so blatantly and he had never felt as he had when Lucille had bitten and marked him. Even now the silver bite-marks of her dainty, white teeth ached with a special kind of pleasure/ pain. The Mark she had given him throbbed in time with his Sen Stripe, which was flaring over and over again with desire and need.
Both of his shafts were aching and his balls felt heavy with seed and warming cream. Gods, how he wanted her! Wanted both to give himself to her and to take her at the same time.
I want to bond her to me, he realized. Want to fill her sweet pussy and ass with both my shafts at once and feel her coming as I breed her and fill her with my seed. I would do anything for her—give anything she asked. She is the only female I’ll ever want for the rest of my life.
And then he heard Lucille say,
“What?” in a tone so shocked it broke through the pleasurable haze of desire that clouded his mind.
“You heard me.” Mistress Shin’dara was smirking at her. “That’s my price.”
“But…but I can pay hundreds of thousand in credit—even millions!” Lucille protested. “Why would you want me to do that?”
“Mainly because you clearly don’t want to do it,” snapped the Twainer. “Keep your credit—I get paid in pain or I won’t do the deal. Those are my terms—take them or leave them.”
T’zaren frowned—he had definitely missed something. Turning his head, he looked up at Lucille. There was an agitated look on her lovely face.
“What is it?” he asked in a low voice. “What does she want?”
“She wants me to…to…” Lucille shook her head, seemingly unable to answer.
“I want to see your Dom’mesque strap on a shaft and fuck you, manslave,” Mistress Shin’dara said succinctly, staring down at T’zaren from her throne. “Not just simple penetration, mind you—I want to see her fuck you to completion so that we can all watch both of those magnificent shafts standing between your thighs shoot as she fills your ass.”
T’zaren felt as though part of him had frozen inside.
The Unbreakable Vow, whispered a voice in his head. She’s talking about the Unbreakable Vow!
Whether she knew it or not, the cruel Twainer had somehow hit on the most sacred part of a Stri’vor Monstrum relationship. It wasn’t always done, not even after a male had bonded with his S’rentha. But when it was—when a male chose to let himself be penetrated so intimately—it was a permanent declaration of ownership and love. A special meeting of hearts and souls that could only be achieved by this specific act of total submission on the part of the larger, stronger male who would be making himself utterly vulnerable to his smaller, weaker female.
But he had only just begun to understand what he felt for the curvy little human the night before! For so long he had resisted his feelings—even when she made his Sen Stripe flare. Doing this would be moving their relationship—which had only just started—ahead by leaps and bounds. It was a huge commitment.
It’s also the only way to get the dimriel, he thought, looking at the faces of the two women before him. A cruel smile was playing around Mistress Shin’dara’s thin lips and Lucille’s pretty face was a mask of uncertainty and worry.
She didn’t want to hurt him—T’zaren understood that. But what she didn’t understand was that to him, pain and pleasure were both desirable as long as they came from the hand of his true S’rentha—which he was now certain that she was. If he’d had any doubts, they had been dispelled by the silver Mark of her teeth on his neck.
He had to let her know it was all right for her to do this to him, T’zaren thought—had to let her know in no uncertain terms, so that she could give herself to the act, the same way he intended to. This wasn’t just for the dimriel, though that was certainly part of it. This was the Unbreakable Vow. They both had to draw pleasure from it to make it work.