Captive

by Cheryl Brooks

  That must be what he meant when he said he’d purred.

  When her mouth began watering, she was sure she was right.

  If it hadn’t been for those damned Nedwuts, she might’ve been in a position to act on her desire, which was rapidly becoming impossible to ignore. She’d never felt like this before in her life, but the feeling was as unmistakable as it was powerful.

  Sleep was not going to happen unless he stopped doing that.

  Or I bite him.

  Somehow, she didn’t think it would stop at the biting stage. Her mind filled with erotic images. What would it feel like to kiss him? To lie naked in his arms?

  His loud, rumbling exhale finally prompted her to speak. “I’ll never go to sleep unless you stop purring.”

  He stroked her hair so lightly, all she felt was a tingle. “So, you’ve figured that out, have you?”

  “Yeah.” She had to stop and swallow before she could say anything further. “Makes me want to bite you so bad I can hardly stand it.”

  “I won’t stop you.” A soft chuckle vibrated his body. “The others are already asleep. I promise I won’t scream.”

  “Will I be able to sleep if I do?”

  “Maybe not right away,” he replied. “But you will. Eventually.”

  “I could sure use some sleep,” she muttered. “Don’t think I’m gonna get it, though.”

  “If you’re interested, I know a surefire way to knock you out for the night.”

  A giggle, as foreign to her as giddy laughter, escaped her. “Going to stun me with a pulse pistol?”

  “That wasn’t what I had in mind.” His voice was a purring whisper. “I was thinking about something much more pleasant.”

  “After I bite you, you mean?”

  “Yeah. After you bite me.”

  She rolled over and looked up at him. Not for the first time she was grateful for her ability to see in the dark. He’d been attractive before. Now he was just plain irresistible.

  Why should I resist?

  Chapter 9

  Anyone would’ve told Moe he needed his head examined for purring at such an inopportune time.

  Anyone with any sense, that is.

  At the moment, however, Moe felt anything but sensible. After everything that had happened in the past day or so, giving in to his baser instincts seemed the best choice.

  Klara was currently in an excellent position to give them both enough ecstasy to put their desires to bed, so to speak. Too bad she probably wouldn’t see it that way, unless her mother had seen fit to apprise her of the joys—and explicit details—of Zetithian sex. He could tell her himself, but since he was a willing participant rather than an impartial observer, convincing her would take some doing.

  Trust me, Klara. Just licking my dick will give you orgasms. Sucking it until I come in your mouth will give you a euphoric high the likes of which you’ve never dreamed.

  Yeah, right. Any woman would believe that.

  He couldn’t help but smile as the standard Zetithian pick-up line ran through his mind.

  Oh, what the hell…

  “Come, mate with me, my love, and I will give you joy unlike any you have ever known.”

  He’d only been whispering those words, but she was Zetithian enough to have hearing as sharp as his own, and her derisive snort proved she’d heard him.

  “I’m not kidding,” he said. “I don’t know how much your mother told you, but all you have to do is taste me. The orgasms are practically guaranteed.”

  Another snort demonstrated her continued skepticism. Clearly, her mother had neglected to enlighten her. “That sounds like something Pelarus would say.”

  “Yeah, well, if he was Zetithian, he’d be right.”

  She still didn’t seem convinced. “I’m guessing the part I have to taste is somewhere in this vicinity.”

  Moe gasped as she placed a hand on his groin. “You got it.” Her scent had already done a excellent job of giving him an erection, which, unfortunately, only meant that her body was willing. Whether her mind would follow suit remained to be seen.

  Somehow she didn’t seem the type to be swayed by a bunch of romantic bullshit, so he did his best to stick to the facts, even though he wound up sounding more like a textbook than a man in the throes of passion.

  “The scent of a woman’s desire is the only thing that will arouse a Zetithian man. Once aroused, his lubricating fluid—or joy juice as it’s more commonly called—only needs to come in contact with the woman’s mucus membrane to induce an orgasm. A taste of his semen—or snard, as it’s known in our native language—will trigger orgasms and euphoria. The afterglow—known as laetralance in Zetithian—is a blissful sense of peace and tranquility in body, mind, and soul. Trust me, if you get that far, you’ll be able to sleep through anything short of a full-scale Nedwut invasion.”

  She drew back her hand and began chewing the cuticle of her thumb with considerable vigor. With a speculative glance, she asked, “Can I bite you first?”

  “Absolutely.” Tilting his head, he yanked his collar aside and patted the base of his neck. “Right here is the best spot.”

  He’d expected her to pounce at some point. He just hadn’t expected her to do it quite so abruptly. With a low growl, she sprang up and sank her fangs into his neck with the speed and accuracy of a striking cobra. Lust spread through his vessels like venom, reaching his groin within seconds. What had been a pretty decent erection to start with blossomed into something far more potent. He longed to feel her lips and tongue on his aching, dripping cock.

  But first, he had to kiss her.

  The metallic tang of his blood still clung to her lips as he pulled her into his embrace. Their lips touched, their tongues mated furiously, each devouring the other. His blood mixed with her own unique flavor, setting his senses on full alert and ripping away the last shred of control he possessed. “Klara, please…”

  He was purring so loud, he was sure he would wake one of their sleeping cohorts—although he didn’t care as long as they didn’t interrupt him. She went back to his neck, licking the wounds she’d made, snarling and sighing at the same time, if that was possible.

  Her hands, however, went somewhere else entirely, making quick work of unfastening his trousers and whipping out his dick. What felt like a caress soon progressed to an examination. As though not believing her fingers, she turned her head to stare.

  “It’s got a–a ruffle around the head—kind of like the neck ridges on a dwithan. Softer, though.” She felt it again, her firm grasp sending Moe to the outer limits of his control. “This slippery stuff… is that the joy juice?”

  His affirmative reply was more of a rumbling exhale than a word. “You don’t have to lick me. Just lick your finger.” One taste would have her coming back for more, unless her Davordian blood—

  No. Her breeding wouldn’t stop her from enjoying anything he had to offer. If the reports were true, Davordians liked sex better than most, and Zetithian sex above all. He held his breath, awaiting her next move.

  He didn’t have to wait long. Within seconds, she let it out a soft keening sound that was even more arousing than her touch. Her body jackknifed sharply, drawing her knees to her chest in a move that probably knocked the wind out of her.

  “Okay,” she gasped. “I believe you.” Without another word and no warning whatsoever, her lips closed around his cockhead, and she sucked it into her mouth.

  For a moment, Moe was sure he would come, if only from the smooth glide of her tongue on his skin. When she pulled back on the coronal flange, stretching the small fold of skin that anchored the ridge to the underside of his cock, his growl was as automatic as the thrust of his hips.

  No longer the slightest bit reticent, Klara sucked his cock with unabashed enthusiasm, gripping the base in her hand and only pausing whenever the subsequent orgasms struck. Each time she resumed the staggering strokes of her lips and tongue, Moe felt lighter, as though each stroke drove him closer to absolute weig
htlessness. For one anxious moment, he feared he would fly upward, hitting the ceiling before breaking through to soar off into space. Desperate to anchor himself, Moe speared his fingers through Klara’s hair to grip the back of her head, only to find that he didn’t need to hold on so tightly. Simply resting his hand on her was enough to ground him—and more than enough to set him free.

  That realization propelled him to the pinnacle with astonishing speed. Arching his back, he forced his hips upward as ecstasy flooded his mind and body like an estuary at high tide. Just when he was certain there could be no greater pleasure, his balls contracted to send jets of snard streaming into her mouth.

  A strangled snarl escaped him as she swallowed, taking in his cock along with his semen. She thrashed briefly, then stilled, moaning so softly he might’ve imagined it. His cock, having lost some of its vigor, slid from her throat, and she rolled onto her back, her head still pillowed on his outstretched leg. He longed to watch her body’s response to his snard, but the vibrations issuing from her melded with his own to soothe him like never before. He had almost drifted off to sleep before he realized what those vibrations meant.

  She’s purring.

  Contentment washed over him as he tucked his junk back in his trousers before tugging her shoulder to turn her onto her side. Her smile as she looked up at him, appearing dazed but sated, released something in his heart, like a stubborn, rusty lock that had finally disengaged. He didn’t attempt to interpret the feeling beyond that, focusing instead on ensuring she was completely enveloped in her cloak. Only then, with one long purring sigh, did he close his eyes.

  An ordinary woman probably would’ve slept for days after her first encounter with joy juice and snard, but Klara’s life, not to mention her breeding, was anything but ordinary. She awoke as the sun rose, having no need to see the rays of light. Even in a room with no windows, she sensed the dawn, which proved that while snard might enable her to sleep amazingly well, it hadn’t disrupted her internal clock.

  She doubted a Nedwut attack would have awakened her during the night, which frightened her a little. The fear of being so vulnerable clutched at her heart with icy fingers. However, despite those fears and the inherent discomfort of lying on an unyielding floor, she was unwilling to rise. Apparently, sex with a Zetithian male was inadvisable whenever instant alertness was required—which, in her case, was every second of every day.

  The first order of business was to ensure the safety of her band. After that, finding food was crucial. She would’ve preferred to have more time to think—and to enjoy being so close to Moe, where she could feel his warmth and his solid, comforting presence.

  In the past, her mother had provided comfort, but Klara had lost that source long ago. Without anyone to lean on for so many years, feeling safe and secure was as alien to her as unlimited wealth. She’d been a child then, but she remembered it well enough to know this feeling was entirely different.

  Sure, her sexual encounter with Moe had been satisfying, but that event paled in comparison with the man himself, which was odd because relying on a man had never been her first choice of survival techniques. Her mother had learned to be wary of males, and she’d passed that distrust along to her daughter. Some were overtly predatory, while others were more sly and secretive. Less obvious, perhaps, but no less dangerous, if not more so.

  Moe was unlike any man she’d ever met. His inherent honesty was almost palpable, which might explain why she’d succumbed to him so easily—and that she had succumbed was indisputable. She could easily have refused him. Could’ve turned away from him and ignored his suggestion that she taste him. She cursed her curiosity, knowing it was partly responsible for the predicament in which she now found herself. If she’d never captured him, she and her friends wouldn’t be in this mess.

  But perhaps, just perhaps, he was the answer to every hope she’d ever had and every wish she’d ever made. Regrettably, she would never know whether any of that was true if she didn’t get up now. Calling on every shred of fortitude she possessed, she pushed herself up from the floor only to meet Moe’s wary gaze.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She knew what he was thinking. The morning after often brought with it misgivings for the weaknesses of the night before. “I’m fine.” Her stomach let out a growl. “Or at least I will be when we’ve all had something to eat.” A brief assessment of his expression revealed no clues as to his own feelings regarding recent events. “What about you?”

  “Me? I’m”—he hesitated, then laughed as though surprised at his current mood—“feeling pretty great, actually.”

  Most men did—or so she assumed. Sexual gratification was less complicated for them, and any dubious means to that end were no doubt easily glossed over.

  His wariness returned. “Not feeling, um, coerced, are you?”

  She gave him a wry smile. “Trust me, if I felt coerced, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  “Guess I can take that as a no.”

  “I guess you can.”

  From his position in the opposite corner of the room, Temfilk yawned and stretched his skinny arms. “What a night! I’m amazed I could sleep a wink.”

  When he followed this statement with an actual wink of his bulbous eyes, Klara feared the worst.

  “Feeling…sated?” Moe ventured.

  “Unbelievably, I do,” Temfilk replied. “Last night was so gratifying and, well…perfect.” A long sigh and another bone-popping stretch served to substantiate his claim. “Must’ve been something in the air.”

  “Perfect, huh?” Nexbit rolled over with a grimace. “I should’ve morphed into a dog or something that actually enjoys being curled up on the bare floor. I really miss my bed.”

  The Racks began chattering the way they always did when they woke up hungry. Klara didn’t have to ask how they felt.

  “What do we do now, boss?” Temfilk asked. “I vote for stealing breakfast in the market. I haven’t had one of those awesome Garebinch pastries in forever.”

  “Stop! You’re only making this worse,” Nexbit protested. “We’re a long damn way from the market. Not sure I can get there without something to eat.”

  Klara rolled her eyes before glancing at Moe. “Don’t believe a word he says. He can go a lot longer without food than the rest of us can.”

  Nexbit waved his gnarly looking hands in surrender. “Okay, so you’re right. I’ll be fine as long as I don’t have to morph into anything tricky. But if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: it takes energy to morph.”

  Temfilk sucked a fingertip onto his chin. “If you were better-fed, would you be less, um, homely?”

  “Perhaps,” Nexbit replied without the slightest hint of the annoyance Klara always figured he should feel whenever anyone remarked on his lack of inherent beauty. Apparently, he was immune to that criticism. “But in any case, I am rather hungry.”

  Klara was pretty good at going hungry herself. At the moment, however, she was absolutely ravenous, which was probably Moe’s fault. She squeezed her eyes shut as the memory of savoring his cock shoved its way to the forefront of her mind. This is neither the time nor the place for such things, she scolded herself. Then again, she could’ve said the same for last night. Temfilk had obviously picked up on the sex pheromones floating about the room. At least, she didn’t think he had to actually touch someone to pick up on that sort of thing. This was the first time she’d ever considered that possibility. Never needed to before.

  “Okay. Let’s see if we can get into town without Nedwuts swarming all over us.” She gritted her teeth. Without anything to bribe them with, this would be the best time for any bounty hunters to have another go at trying to capture her.

  “I’m good with breakfast,” Moe said. “But if I can access my funds, we probably won’t need to steal it.”

  This method of acquiring food was so completely foreign to Klara, for a second or two, all she could do was gape at him. A glance at her cohorts pro
ved they shared her disbelief. She cleared her throat. “Yeah. Right. If you want to waste your money on food, go right ahead. We’ve never needed money.” Except to use as a bribe. Nedwuts weren’t known for their willingness to barter. They wanted cash, and they didn’t like having to wait for it.

  Moe shrugged, somehow managing to look completely unperturbed and, well…adorable.

  How strange…

  Klara had never considered another being to be adorable. Ever.

  An adorable man who actually pays for food. This gets weirder all the time.

  “Guess I’m not as good at thievery as you are,” he said. “We’ll see how it goes. Any idea what time the banks open around here?”

  Temfilk snorted with derision. “Banks? I’ve never even seen the inside of one. Never needed to know their business hours.”

  Klara was beginning to feel a little defensive. Moe had obviously led a much different sort of life than she and her friends had. No telling what he thought of them. A quick check of his expression revealed nothing. Surely he understood how they’d lived. He wouldn’t hold that against them. Would he?

  If he didn’t hate her for capturing him—twice—he probably wouldn’t despise her lifestyle. He knew she’d had no choice. Not a realistic one, anyway. He understood why she couldn’t be forced into a sexual relationship—at least, not one she would ever find enjoyable. She could be taken by force like any other woman. Pelarus was Vessonian. He wouldn’t need the scent of her desire to become aroused. For all she knew, her fear or hatred would work every bit as well as her desire. Perhaps even more so. The thought of even being in the same room with Pelarus sickened her. To be intimate with him was abhorrent.

  And then there was Moe…

  He’d gotten to her so easily, she should have been furious. Why wasn’t she?

  Because you’re your mother’s daughter as much as your father’s.

  Her mother had gone to a great deal of trouble to be with Trag. She’d resorted to trickery and had concealed Klara’s existence from everyone. Klara had never been sure why. She doubted that anyone would have forced Delaroh to give up her daughter. Family seemed important to Zetithians. They wouldn’t have wanted to take Klara away from the only family she had.