by Unknown
“Elana, my beautiful jewel. My mate,” he whispered.
The sheer delight of his scent filled her, sparking lustful tingles through her flesh. The low thrum from him reverberated in her chest and thrilled to a delicious peak in her clitoris. Heat flooded her, not the warmth of healing from the restorative, but the heat of desire burned in her loins and breasts.
She slipped her arms around his waist. A smile lit his eyes as he looked down into her gaze. He angled his head and his lips found hers. A moan rose in her throat, for he took control of her mouth, probed rhythmic and deep with his tongue, showing her exactly what would come next. Mating, he didn’t need to say the word. He sent thrills of excitement in ripples through her, so she pressed her body tight to his.
“Later, my treasure,” he murmured, and let her go. “Put this on and then you will look like a respectable Jagan female.” He held out the flimsy fabric and she accepted it.
A solid ache for him to take her, along with the unfamiliar need for pleasurable release demanded she respond to it. Where had this thick wave of desire come from? She’d drunk no water. How long did the wicked sensual effects last?
He smiled, and her heart rate rose to exercise levels, another pool of warmth slicked between her thighs.
She wanted him to smile at her? No reason explained such a desire, but on seeing his expression, her heart skipped a beat and she waited hopeful of another of his kisses.
The garment she held slid whispery soft in her hand. The fabric appeared sheer enough as to be almost transparent. She shook it out and discovered it had tiny little straps. After she put it on she glanced up to see if he smiled. Pleasure came, for yes, he did. Even so, she whispered, “This isn’t very practical.”
He shook his head, turned her slowly all the way around and then nodded. “No, it’s not. But you are not a drone for drudgery. You are my beautiful mate.”
The gauzy skirt barely covered her naked rear. A twenty degree bend to either side would reveal her body to him, or any other onlooker. The tiny thin straps that held the dress in place let the bodice hang so low the scooped neckline almost revealed her nipples.
His pleased smile lifted the corners of his mouth and a spark shone in his eyes. He looked so very right when he smiled.
“Pretty,” he said. “Green suits your pale skin. I thought it would.” He reached out, stroked her waist, cupped her breast and rubbed one of her nipples where it peeked over the top of her bodice.
Her body melted at his touch. He slid his other hand up under the short skirt and caressed her inner thigh, stroked between her legs sending trembles through her. A sigh of longing left her when he slid his fingers over her hot needy flesh. She wanted more.
“I know,” he murmured. “You are mine now, marked and scented. Your hormones know it. I will give you what you desire later, after you have eaten. Come with me, beloved.”
She followed him down into the light of the room with the machines and then through a doorway into another well lit room where she smelled food. Her hungry stomach clenched tight.
Ansgar sat her on a high backed chair at a table. He brought a plate of some kind of stew and set it before her, followed of course, by a glass and a jug of water.
The clear liquid he poured into the glass appeared no different from that she drank at home, but here the effects it induced proved so very strange and potent. If she drank she’d have no way to stop the responses her body might make.
“Eat, my precious mate,” Ansgar said. “Tomorrow I will rent a drone to make the kinds of food fit for a mated female, but for today you will have to eat what I learned to cook with the brothers in my troop.” He sat in a low chair by one of the wide tinted windows looking out onto the desert landscape, but didn’t turn to the view. Instead he watched every mouthful she ate.
He waited to see if she’d drink, she knew it. And she fought it.
The food though unusual, tasted good, but her thirst increased after only a few mouthfuls and she didn’t want to touch the water. The desire his scent provoked proved hard for her to control, but if she drank she’d be lost in the dream state of urgent hormonal need. She ate the rest of the food without taking a sip.
Ansgar approached the table and shook his head at her full glass. He gave a low tut, the sound not half as pleasant as his earlier thrums. The vibrations created a strange kind of tingling sensation in her loins. The pulsations built fast to an insistent level so she bit back an exclamation.
He fixed her with a long and thoughtful gaze. “Elana, my mate, you will drink or die, it is that simple.”
How did he know her thoughts? How did he guess?
She found her voice despite the heated throbs. “I don’t want to be the way the water makes me.” Already knowing his strange control over her body stole her physical restraint she made a new effort to explain. “I lose my mind, my thoughts, it makes me wrong.”
He shook his head. “It is not wrong that you desire me. The water frees you to discover the power of the deep flame within you.”
The high pitched thrumming he directed to her clitoris sent her careering toward orgasm and robbed her of any dissent. She gasped.
He nodded his head with a pleased smile.
Unable to still the wild pulsing of her clitoris she gripped the edge of the table. The intensity of sound grew until she writhed, and moving her hips in a parody of their mating she came hard. She slumped on the chair as the orgasm faded, and as her breathing rate steadied she peered up.
“You must learn obedience. I have no wish to chastise you, but if I do not, how will you learn?” Ansgar hauled her into his embrace. He stroked over her hair with tender caresses. “Very soon you will forget all your strange off world thoughts. The law states your need for me is right.” He nuzzled her neck, sucked at the lobe of her ear and then whispered, “You will drink and have no fears. I can and will pleasure you each and every day. Drink, my jewel, and I will give you all you might need.”
He angled his head to gaze into her eyes and his smile dazzled her. She tried to swallow but her mouth felt too dry.
“Drink,” he said.
She reached out, her gaze fixed on him as she picked the glass up. Lifting the glass to her lips she tasted the cool clear liquid. With one swallow the scent of him grew stronger to demolish any more of her doubts. In two long gulps she’d drunk a half of the glassful and the water’s effect mushroomed through her. Wanton lassitude, a sensual awareness of each tiny scrap of her body overwhelmed her and setting the glass on the table she sagged against him with a moan.
He caressed her and lifted her up into his arms.
“I promise I’ll drink it,” she murmured.
“Good. The water ration is increased because I have you, my mate. There will be no shortage.”
The words hardly registered as the lust to have him surged far more forceful than before, for she knew the pleasure he could give her, and she shook with delight at his caresses as he carried over to the sandy colored couch opposite the table. Willingly she parted her thighs for his explorations.
“I want you,” she whimpered. “Now, Ansgar. Please. I need you.”
She lost the afternoon to the passion they shared. Wafts of his compelling mating scent rose and her body shuddered in rhythm with the thrumming sounds he made. His kisses sucked at her mouth hot and fierce, and she needed nothing more than his body with hers.
He teased, whispered soft encouragements for her to show her pleasure as he caressed her, until she begged and cried out for fulfillment. Finally, he parted her thighs wide, entered her, and sucking her blissful cries from her lips, he rode her slowly on the soft hide covered sofa.
Each new sensation as the lazy afternoon suns journeyed across the sky added a fresh richness to her existence. She shuddered in joyful delight discovering another orgasm with him spilling his seed from his cock buried deep inside her.
After, they rested for a time on the sofa. She lay cradled in his arms breathing in the richness of his fr
agrance. Nothing she knew smelled as delicious as him.
Ansgar fed her more sips of water, slices of a sweet tasting fruit, and he caressed all of her from the nape of her neck to her toes while she nestled languid beside him. She yawned and closed her eyes.
He spoke soft, full of reassurance as he carried her upstairs and set her on the bed. While she lay, close to exhaustion, too softened to do anything but enjoy his gentlest touch, he began the exquisite, tortuous process of mating her again.
Hot and smooth he tasted her with his tongue and finally when she pleaded for him inside her, he thrust into her deeply. Filled by him, moving to the rhythm he dictated, her dreamlike world bloomed full of Ansgar’s powerful scent and sheer pleasure.
The twin suns lit the evening horizon with golden and rose gleams when, Ansgar lay still, sleeping beside her with her captured in the crook of his arm. He held her captive in a prison she’d no desire to move from. Hazed by his scent she blinked as she looked out of the window on to the desert beauty of evening on Jagan. The heat haze shimmered in the distance, the golden dunes reflecting back the day’s warmth, all so different from her cool snow laden home.
At last the effects of the water she’d drunk with her meal had diminished, and she focused a part of her mind on something other than her desire for more mating with Ansgar. A bitter truth nagged.
She shouldn’t and couldn’t stay. Her desire for him must be ignored. She’d no choice but to dismiss the call from her heart as emotional foolishness. Tonight she had to leave.
Her duty, ingrained deep since she could utter her first words, remained important. Duty was what she’d been bred and trained to fulfill, was why she was here at all. Without duty, the population of Melan would fail.
Elana struggled to swallow down the lump closing her throat. The painful sensation, a burning tingle she only vaguely recognized from her earliest childhood, before training had begun, stung at the back of her throat. The harsh ache wouldn’t go away even though she swallowed hard, and something burned in her eyes. No matter how much she blinked hot moisture stung.
She wiped at her cheek.
Tears!
The warm wetness leaking from her eyes didn’t matter. She had to go.
Unable to resist she offered a caress for a goodbye. She stroked over his chest, gazed in wonder at the ripple of his muscles, enjoyed the slick leathery polish of his skin, and his soft sleeping thrum in response to her touch set a fresh hot well of tears.
The realization a huge part of her didn’t want to go tore at her as she sniffed and palmed more smeary wetness away so she could see. The vulnerable state the water here induced had cleared, but that made her decision no easier.
Ansgar had ensnared her in a way no other person or experience ever had. She’d never before known sensations like those he’d gifted to her. Physical need had become tied with a deep longing in her mind. Any feelings like this she usually blocked as she’d been taught, but his intensity revealed her education process as faulty. The raw power and strength of emotions still lurked within her and by Toldek’s grace, as Ansgar raised them in her, they hurt. Somehow she would lock the pain within and keep it as a private memento of this experience. She would fulfill her sworn responsibility to gather information and to find a way to leave here with the missing trade crews if she could find them. If she managed to return to Melan she might eventually forget how it felt to lie beside him.
“Ansgar,” she murmured. He didn’t move. She could leave, for he slept.
Edging out from under his arm she tried to recall how her world felt without him. Cool and alone, she rose, slid into the soft garment he’d given her, and ignoring more hot tears, she bent over him and pressed her lips once to his broad cheek.
Silent, though her heart thumped so loud she feared he’d hear it, she tiptoed to the door.
“Where, by the balls of Kobis, do you think you’re going?”
Elana froze at his words. She spun around as a brilliant beam of light dazzled from the drapes. Her hand tight on the door handle she swallowed hard at his expression. She wracked her mind for any excuse. When none he’d believe sprang to mind she gathered her courage to face him. No matter what he thought he’d have to accept the truth.
She wasn’t from Jagan.
To be continued…..
Daisy Banks writes sensual and spicy novels in the Historical, Paranormal and Fantasy genres. Discover a different world with Daisy.
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Demon’s Bounty
Jocelyn Dex
Tanner’s pulse sped up, and he had to rearrange his dick when she walked through the door. He wanted to bury his face in the golden hair swishing around her bare shoulders and inhale what he imagined would be a feminine, lusty scent.
The golden-haired vixen didn’t belong there. She looked out of place, too good for the dump, but she was there every night. And every night, he watched her sway her hips seductively to the thumping music, watched every male in the place watch her. Some, filled with liquid courage, approached her. She’d smile at them, sometimes dance with them, but she never seemed to be totally in tune with them, always scanning the crowd, keeping her eyes on the entrances and exits. And she always left alone.
He’d love to whisk her into a dark corner, shove up the short green skirt that matched the emerald color of her eyes, and fuck her against the wall until his legs couldn’t hold them up anymore. But first, he needed to dispose of a demon, the bounty too high to miss. Too high even for the ecstasy he knew he’d find while buried deep inside the female.
Damn. What was it about her? Yeah, she was beautiful, gorgeous, but he’d been with plenty of beauties in his lifetime and never looked back. But this female called to him. It was almost as if she had cast some sort of magical spell on him. He’d masturbated to her image every night for the past week.
He’d been staking out this dump of a bar, looking for a kill. If the Mus demon he was hunting didn’t show up tonight, he didn’t know if he could resist the urge take her home and lose himself inside her. He’d barely resisted the urge to do just that every night since first seeing her.
Her beauty and her sexual vibes addled his brain, and he feared, if he fucked her, once wouldn’t be enough. As a rule, he didn’t fuck while on the job. He liked to keep focused, no distractions, but this female distracted him despite his best efforts to ignore her.
*
Lydie swayed to the music, all smiles and seduction, but she was tired of this slum. It sported bad lighting made worse by excessive smokiness, worn and battered furniture, a cracked yellow linoleum dance floor, and terrible music blaring out of a dilapidated jukebox. And she was tired of the same lame, leering males throwing back shots to get up the courage to come and talk to her. Oh, she was all about males watching her and wanting her. It came with the territory, her being a siren, her siren magic naturally drawing males to her.
But damn, in the last week, she’d seen only one male worth her time, and he was the only one who hadn’t paid her any attention. Oh, she’d seen him glance at her a few times, but he never made a move. He was easily the sexiest male she’d ever laid eyes on. Just a glance at his imposing form made her tingly in all the right spots, and she hoped she’d be able to sample his goods in the near future.
Of course, Lydie had no real future with a human. No. Their lifetimes were much too short, but she could certainly spend a few hours with this one while impatiently waiting for Mr. Longterm to come along.
He had to be at least six and a half feet tall, with short dark brown hair, bulging arm muscles, broad shoulders, and there was a cruel twist to his lips. She’d like to sit on those lips and soften them up a bit. Giggling at her naughty thoughts, she didn’t notice the human male who’d walked up beside her.
“Uh, hey, pretty lady,” he said. “I’d like to buy you a drink.”
Ah crap. She plastered a smile on her face, switched to her siren voice,
and said, “You’re so kind, but you’d rather sit at the bar and watch me dance. Don’t you agree?”
His eyes glazed over as he nodded.
“Now smile and run along,” she urged.
He smiled and returned to the bar without another word. Sirens channeled their magic through their voices and could compel humans and many other species with only a few words. It was a handy skill even though Lydie wasn’t as strong in that area as she should be.
She twirled around and caught sight of the large, gorgeous male again. He was scowling more than usual just then. Feeling extra frisky, when his eyes met hers, she winked at him, blew him a kiss, and twirled again, putting her back to him but not before she saw his scowl lessen, one side of his mouth turning up ever so slightly. It was as close to a smile as she’d seen cross his face. She giggled to herself, enjoying the small improvement, but then reminded herself why she was there, got serious, and scanned the room carefully.
*
Tanner chuckled internally. The little vixen had caught him staring and winked at him. When this job was finished, he’d definitely show her how a Venato demon could pleasure her. Of course, she’d think him human, but when he finished with her, she’d wonder if he had otherworldly powers. Cocky much? Yeah, a little.
He glanced at his watch. Half past midnight. The bar would close in less than two hours, and he was beginning to wonder if the intel he’d received from D was no good.
Supposedly, the Mus demon had been frequenting this bar, without fail, for two weeks. Surely the intel was good. D rarely got the details wrong, but maybe the demon had moved on.
D was the coordinator of the Southeast Texas division of the Network. The Network started as a group of demon volunteers who enjoyed living peacefully in the human realm and “cleaned up” the demons who caused trouble. Over the decades, the Network grew, and the jobs began paying—well. D’s real name—D’arlquilabo—was impossible to pronounce, and he refused to take a more manageable human name, so everyone just called him D. Tanner had been a bounty hunter in D’s division for thirty years.