Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Telling herself this was a necessary action in a difficult situation, Imani finally gave in.
“All right,” she said, wringing out the sponge and getting some fresh water. “I’ll wash you everywhere.”
She reached for him but J’are flinched away at first contact with the sponge.
“Too rough!” he exclaimed, frowning. “Wash better.”
“With what?” Imani protested. She looked around for something—anything else—she could use but there was nothing. Not even a washcloth or a face cloth. What kind of fancy hotel didn’t provide a washcloth?
At last, in desperation, she scooped up a handful of bubbles and reached for his shaft.
J’are seemed to approve of this. He made a soft, humming growl in the back of his throat as she stroked up and down his shaft with the bubbles.
“You like that?” Imani asked him and her voice came out sounding strangely breathless. She found that she was no longer washing his shaft so much as just stroking it. It had gotten much harder and bigger now—so much so that she couldn’t fit her fingers all the way around it. God, how could he use something like this on anyone? How could any woman possibly accommodate such length and girth?
“Like…that,” J’are echoed her in a soft growl.
Looking up, Imani saw that his pale green eyes were half-lidded, like half-moons in his dark face. She saw desire in his gaze—desire and need and hunger…hunger for her.
Oh God, I should really stop now! This is getting to be too much!
But she didn’t stop. Instead, she found herself reaching between his thighs with her other hand to stroke the heavy sac hanging there. She cupped it lightly, weighing his balls in her hand, while she continued to caress his shaft in long, slow, deliberate strokes.
“You…Claimed me.” J’are’s deep voice was rough and she felt his cock getting even harder in her hand.
“Yes, J’are—I did,” she murmured. “I Claimed you.”
“I am…yours.”
The last word came out in a low growl and then he was coming—shooting thick spurts of seed into the bathwater while Imani held his shaft in her hand.
She should have jerked her fingers away but somehow she couldn’t. She just watched, feeling hypnotized by the sight as the big Kindred came over and over, his eyes locked on her face as he shot his seed.
It seemed to go on forever but at last he stopped shooting—though his shaft refused to go down and get soft, the way a human male’s cock would have.
Oh my God, I just stood here and basically jerked him off! Shouldn’t have done that—why did I do it? Imani asked herself as she quickly disengaged and got him a towel to dry off with.
What was wrong with her, acting this way with a client? Especially one that wasn’t really in his right mind? If anyone had been watching, they would have thought she was taking advantage of the big Kindred. Or at the very least, being extremely unethical.
It won’t happen again, Imani promised herself. I’ll get him dried off and dressed and—
She stopped, realizing she didn’t have anything to dress the big Kindred in. He couldn’t put back on the trousers he had just taken off—they were completely filthy and stiff with the black paint it had been so difficult to get off his skin and out of his hair.
“I’ll have to call down and see if they can provide me with some clothes for him,” she muttered to herself. “I’ll have to see—”
A sudden, low growl interrupted her monologue and she looked up to see J’are clutching his stomach.
“Hungry,” he said. “Not much to eat in the hole.”
“Oh, of course you are!” Imani felt bad for not thinking of this before. “I’ll get you something—I promise! You just get dried off.”
And she bustled out of the bathroom to search for whatever they used here in place of a phone to call room service and get some food and clothing sent up.
Thirteen
What the Yonnites had in place of a phone was actually a kind of intercom system, Imani found, after searching all around the room. She never would have found it at all if she hadn’t heard a soft burst of static coming from it and looked up to see the sleek white box mounted on the wall above the bed.
“Hello?” she called, looking up at it uncertainly. “Uh, is anyone there?”
“Yezz Mizz Williamzz?” buzzed the familiar voice and Imani was certain she was talking to one of the huge pink praying mantises again. “How may I zzerve you?” it asked.
“Uh, I’d like to order some room service.”
“Room zzervice?” the voice sounded confused.
“Oh—some food, I mean,” Imani said.
“Very well. Pleazze look at the menu and plazze your order at your convenienzze,” the voice buzzed.
“What menu?” Imani asked but almost before the words were out of her mouth, a small light on the underside of the box began to glow and a holographic menu was suddenly projected right in front of her in green light letters.