Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“More an observation of what might have been,” Konan replied. He was surprised that the human had the nerve to ask him if he was threatening her. It was fairly clear that he was being at least somewhat threatening by merit of his exposed and turgid cock which was taking much more of an interest in that soft lipped hole through which she spoke. There were teeth in there, but they did not look sharp, and they were certainly not large.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a male, upon finding a female, will assess her orifices for suitability for fucking. Konan was not immune from that natural law, especially now he felt he had something to prove.
He had a great deal of pride. In fact, pride was all he had. However, he had to admit that it was pride which had led him to make many mistakes in his life. He was still running from some of them.
Dominax should have greeted him with great fanfare, dancing girls, and an entire winged phalanx. Konan had never been so humiliated as he was when he sat on the dock for several hours without so much as a blasted firework to greet him.
His agents had gone out to see what was going on and found the human muttering around the ship. In the absence of any fanfare or even the slightest interest in greeting, they had abducted the human aboard.
It would have been easy to take his rage out on her, but now he had lobbed a missile at Dominax and dismissed the king out of hand, he felt better.
The human, it turned out, might be an unexpected treasure, stolen from beneath Dominax’s unsuspecting nose. He would be careful with her, but he would not trust her. He would continue an interrogation most carnal in nature.
He’d been holding her head all this time. He rather enjoyed having her in his grasp. She felt good there in his hand. Like her skull had been made to fit right there. He wondered what other parts of her body might fit his, and how deliciously tight that fit might be.
She was stoic, but beneath the exterior veil of composure, he could sense the frightened little animal. He wanted to hear that animal purr.
“Give me your mouth, human. Get up upon your knees and take my royal rod between your lips. Show me how a human begs for her survival by pleasuring a superior species.”
She was nervous, and very pink all of a sudden.
He still had her by the hair. He had to be cautious not to tear it out as he drew her up and brushed her cheek against the length of his shaft which was easily the length of her head.
“I will have to be careful with you,” he told her. “But I will not be gentle, and I will not be permissive. If you are to survive, you must obey me.”
“Oh god. You’re going to kill me,” she whimpered most pathetically. He felt her begin to jolt lightly against his hand, making a sound which did not translate into his language, a sort of sniffing, singing noise. Startled by her response, he pulled her head back to look at her and saw that there were two trails of liquid tracing down her face from her eyes, which had apparently begun to produce the substance.
“What are you doing? Why is your face wet?”
“Humans don’t like being threatened with death,” she explained in between sobs. “Fear can make us cry.”
“Is that the case? That seems like weakness. Our species thrills to the chance of death or dismemberment. A good mauling is foreplay.”
“I am not one of your species,” she sobbed. “I won’t survive you.”
She was surrendering to him already, giving herself to him in the most fundamental of ways: through her fear. It was one thing for an alien female to submit to him, and to acknowledge his strength. It was something else for her to respond so beautifully to him, to understand that Konan embodied both the alpha and the omega. He was the beginning, and he may very well be her end.
He noticed that along with her tears, which had already begun to dry, that she was starting to emit a very interesting scent, not from her mouth, but from down between her thighs. Curious, he lifted her up in his arms and ran his nose down her torso until he found the source of that sweetness.
As hopeless and helpless as she was, Elizabeth wasn’t going to tell him that her mouth wasn’t her primary sexual orifice. Obviously, she would rather give a reluctant and possibly physically impossible given her lack of hinged jaw, blow job to an alien monster than give up the tight, vulnerable sheath between her thighs. But it seemed she was about to lose that option.