by Renee Rose
Zander seemed to doubt her reply, because his eyes narrowed.
Fearing he would turn on the vibrating devices again, she adopted a pleading expression.
One corner of his lips lifted.
“You already know Daneth. Next to him is Seke, my master at arms.”
Another massive warrior, this one a bit younger than Lium, but still much older than Zander. Scars decorated his middle-aged face. She saw pain etched into the lines there, too. A flash of claircognizance told her he’d lost his wife and infant in the massacre. The weight of his tragedy punched her in the chest. She realized everyone at this table bore similar losses. They may live in a beautiful pod, but they had suffered—perhaps no less than she and her mother had suffered.
Now she understood the importance of Zander breeding. If the prince was the youngest of his species, he’d be the only chance for it to survive. It also explained why he’d chosen a human—clearly there were no females of breeding age. Only three females sat at the table, and they were all ancient.
He introduced her to the other half-dozen Zandians who sat near them. From what she gathered, the table was organized by status, with the prince and his most powerful advisors beside him and the lowest servants who weren’t responsible for bringing the food at the far end.
Zander’s hand idly tangled in her hair as he listened to a report from Erick on a business deal.
Barr himself arrived to serve Zander’s food, and his face broke into a broad smile when he saw her seated beside the prince. “Good evening, my lord,” he said with a bow as he set a steaming bowl of soup in front of Zander. “Good evening, Lamira.”
She straightened and beamed back at the old chef. “Good evening, Barr. That smells delicious.”
Servants arrived and placed matching bowls in front of the rest of the diners, including her. “I didn’t know you were eating here, or I would have served you a smaller portion. Save room for the rest of the meal, little human.” Barr liked to tease her about how small her stomach was.
Zander glared at the chef, whose skin colored darker purple as he bowed and backed hastily away. Every being took a sudden interest in their soup, so she did the same. Was her prince actually jealous? Or had she shamed him in some way? She hoped not.
After that, she did keep her eyes lowered, though she listened in on the conversations with interest. Despite the dwindling numbers of the species, the Zandians must be excellent in business, with trade in a variety of sectors. That must be how the pod came to be so opulently decorated and how Zander planned to launch a campaign against the vast population of the Finn.
After the soup came huge platters of ostrich meat, wild bluegrain, and Relo sea vegetables. She realized now why Barr thought she ate so little. The Zandians piled their plates high and emptied them several times while she only finished a half a plate of the rich, exquisitely-prepared dishes. Barr served a blueberry wine that made her head swim. It loosened the Zandians tongues, and soon they were all talking in louder voices, laughing and gesturing like old friends.
A pang of remorse for something she’d never known stabbed her heart—this sense of family, of community they all shared. She wanted to belong with them, wanted to be a part of it all.
When she had finished eating and Zander filled his third plate, he tugged her onto his lap, holding her on one knee while he ate and talked. He stroked his hand up her inner thigh.
She jerked and held her breath, her arousal so close to the edge as it was.
He shoved her knees apart, angling his fingers straight over her clit.
She bit her lips, closing her mouth on a cry.
Zander hadn’t looked at her once, intent on some conversation with Erick about the price of sand rocks. That didn’t stop him from turning on the vibrator in her pussy.
“No,” she whispered. Her thighs pressed closed around his fingers. “Please, Zander.”
The vibrator in her anus zoomed to life.
Please, no. Mother Earth, no.
“Please,” she whimpered in his ear. “Please, I’ll be good. I’ll be a good slave.”
Zander still didn’t take his eyes from Erick, but his lips curved into a smug smile. He slapped her thighs open and smacked her pussy twice.
She bit her lip so hard she drew blood. Zander’s sense of smell must be better than a human’s because he sniffed and turned, his brows drawn together with concern.
He frowned and cupped her chin, taking her lip into his mouth and sucking.
She came.
Yes, right there, sitting on his lap in front of his entire household, she climaxed.
Zander laughed and turned the vibrators off. “Go back to my chamber little human. Take off your clothes and wait for me on the sleepdisk. I’ll be in soon.” He murmured the words, but she feared everyone at the great, long table knew exactly what had happened and what was going on. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment.
She stood on trembling legs and affected a sort of curtsy.
Sweet Mother Earth, what was happening to her? This alien had a terrifying effect on her. She needed to get a grip. Fast.
Chapter Six
Three days later, Zander fingered the laser gun hidden beneath his robe. He had four other weapons also hidden within quick reach. Seke and Lium flanked him as they faced Joan-Angeline, the Ocretion smuggler.
“Your ships are on the way. I require the remaining payment now.”
He shook his head. “Payment will come when I have the ships in my possession, as we agreed on.”
She smiled an ugly smile. Half her teeth were blackened or missing. “I’m changing the arrangement.”
He turned, daring to give her his back. Seke and Lium would cover him, and the feigned nonchalance was more important than his personal safety now. “Deal’s off.” He walked away, not turning to look back as he spoke.
“Wait a moment, Zander the Zandian.”
He didn’t stop.
“The ships are here,” she called out.
He paused, but didn’t turn.
She gave a deep laugh. “In the hangar. Come, I’ll show you.”
He pivoted slowly and folded his arms across his chest. “Stop playing games with me, Joan-Angeline.”
Again, the toothy smile. “No games. I have your ships. Let’s go. You’ll be satisfied, I assure you.”
He snorted. He didn’t believe her assurances for a millisecond, but if she had the fighting ships he’d been seeking, she’d be the first of many who promised to actually deliver. And he needed these ships. Without them, the liberation of Zandia would be impossible.
He, Seke, and Lium followed her down a metal walkway to a large hangar. There, nine beat-up fighting ships stood parked.
“I paid you for a dozen.”
“You paid half the cost of a dozen. And I require the remaining half now. They were difficult to acquire. The price has gone up.”
Once more, he called her bluff. “No deal. These ships may not even be airworthy. I’ll take them for the money I already paid, no more.”
“Ah, sorry, Prince Zander, but I have another buyer. If you don’t take them, he will.”
Zander hesitated. This might be true. He’d been attempting to acquire an air fleet for the past sixteen lunar cycles and these were the first he’d seen. He couldn’t be the only being the galaxy who wanted to buy ships on the black market. Joan-Angeline had maybe fifteen beings standing around with guns. None of them looked particularly smart. The three Zandians could probably take them all in a fight. They were all well-trained warriors. But he had honor. He wouldn’t steal what he had pledged to buy, even if Joan-Angeline didn’t deserve it. “The ships are mine. I financed their purchase. Because Zandians have honor, I will pay the price we agreed upon, but only for the ships that are here.”
Joan-Evangeline puffed her fat cheeks and stared at him, her bug eyes never blinking.
He kept his knees soft, his hand on his weapon, ready if she struck.
“Load the ships into their
carrier,” she snapped at her underlings, whirling and walking away.
Lium and Seke didn’t relax, still as alert as he to any danger.
The smugglers loaded the fighting ships onto his carrier, though, while Joan-Evangeline stood guard at the door to make sure he didn’t leave without paying. He counted out the steins and placed them in a burlap sack, which he tossed to her when the transfer of the ships was complete. She gave him another toothy grin. “Nice doing business with you Zander of Zandia.”
He inclined his head. Zandians didn’t lie, and he’d be lying if he said the same about her. They boarded the craft carrier, and he took the controls to fly them out of Joan-Evangeline’s docking station and back to his pod. Only when they had flown several miles without a tail did he begin to relax.
He finally had fighter ships. Now all he needed was an army.
Chapter Seven
Lamira touched the first sprout of a watermelon plant from her row of starts. Her pussy was raw and sore from fresh use and her limbs wobbled like they were made of rubber. It must be the recent orgasm that made her spirits soar now. She shouldn’t be this excited over new plant starts.
After she’d made her list of supplies, Zander had found a catalog and let her leaf through the holograms and pick everything herself. He’d allowed her to buy several types of exorbitantly expensive heirloom seeds, originally grown on Earth, before the planet was destroyed by the overpopulation of the Ocretions. He’d paid for the best soil and beautiful pots, since the “garden” would actually be in his great hall. He’d even ordered two of his servants to assist her. She’d planted the seeds four days ago, and already some had sprouted.
Life as Zander’s breeder continued to befuddle her. The confinement and degradation maddened her. The sex, though, while rough and hard, brought her to heights she’d never known existed. She liked it too much.
She checked the timer Zander had given her. He allowed her to leave his chamber on limited excursions without guard for set periods of time. If she didn’t return by her curfew, he would punish her. She hadn’t dared disobey. She’d pushed hard for the freedom, and fought especially not to have a guard accompany her, not wanting to be alone again with the thief Gunt.
Three minutes until Zander expected her back in his chambers. Veck. She’d lost track of time. She ran down the lemon-hued corridor, dusting her hands on her skirt as she went. She arrived at the door and lifted her chin, waiting for Gunt to let her in. She hated the few moments when she had to pass him at his post.
He didn’t move, but his horns twitched. “Have you reconsidered my offer?”
Seriously? The dungheap wouldn’t give up. “I wouldn’t veck you if you were the last male in the galaxy,” she hissed, reaching past him to open the door herself. Of course, it didn’t work. It required the handprint of someone with authorization to open the door, and apparently hers didn’t fit that requirement.
His eyes and skin a dark-purple, he shoved her up against the door and curled his fingers punitively, painfully into her clothed sex. “You’ll regret that, you vecking slave-whore.”
She shoved hard against him, but he didn’t budge. His fingers groped with bruising intensity.
The door slid open and Gunt sprang away from her. She whirled and practically fell into Zander’s arms.
He ignored his guard and dragged an appreciative gaze over her. His hunger showed in the darkening of his horns, the way they tilted toward her. Her body reacted to his nearness, allowing her to put aside Gunt’s nasty pawing. Soon, she would tell Zander about it, when she knew him a little better and was sure he would believe her.
“Ah. I thought I might have to punish you.”
Her pussy clenched. Zander looked incredible in a body-hugging exercise suit, his huge muscles bulging. It took great resistance not to reach out and touch his hard chest. “No, my lord.”
“Come.” He pushed her into the room.
She balked. He would put her in the cage. That’s what he did when he left her in his room. He didn’t trust her alone in there. Probably didn’t trust her with his communication devices. “Are you going to exercise, my lord?”
He gripped her upper arm and pulled her toward the cage. “Yes.”
She tried to slow their steps with no result. “May I watch you? I’ll be good. I’ll kneel in the corner and won’t make a sound.”
He raised an eyebrow, as if suspicious it was a trick.
Well, maybe it was. But the only trick was getting out of the boredom and claustrophobia of the damn cage.
“Please?” She gave him her best pleading slave eyes, which she knew he loved.
His horns stiffened and twitched in her direction. “Promise you’ll be good?”
She nodded quickly. “I promise. I won’t disturb you a bit.”
He tugged her elbow in that commanding way he had. “Let’s go.”
“Really?” She scurried along beside him. “Thank you.”
“Don’t make me regret it.” He could be gruff, but she’d found he wasn’t terrible. Over the past week, he’d only punished her three more times, each time for disrespect. Despite all the new implements Daneth had brought him, he’d only used his hand and each spanking had concluded with a rough breeding session, which she had come to love.
He bred with her once or twice a day. He didn’t always hold her afterward the way he had her second day, but when he did, she melted—turning as slave-y and submissive as a human who’d been born and bred to serve a man. And she hated herself for it.
Gunt’s eyes burned a hole in her back as they walked away, as always. She’d decided he was harmless. If he really thought he could get away with raping her, he would’ve already accomplished it. Still, she planned to avoid him at all costs.
Zander led her to a room she had not seen before. Like the dining hall, it was lit with natural sunlight magnified by a giant crystal. The room was small with a domed ceiling and raised platform. Seke, the fierce-looking master at arms stood on the platform holding a wooden staff as tall as his body.
Zander pointed silently to a wall and left her, walking up to face the older male and offering a soundless bow.
She knelt with her back to the wall and marveled at Zander’s behavior. It was the first time he’d shown subservience to another. In a moment, she saw why. Seke’s staff shot out, directly in line with Zander’s head. He ducked and swung a foot out to knock the middle-aged male off balance, but Seke jumped, looking as spry as a child.
He swung the staff at Zander once again. Zander dived away into a graceful forward roll.
She bit her lips against the gasp that rose at his magnificence.
The two continued sparring wordlessly, shocking her with their athleticism and the pure art behind the fighting. Clearly, Zander had studied combat arts for most of his life. Watching him fight made her blood heat with desire. Her taut nipples scraped the fabric of the dress she wore, and her pussy soaked her panties with arousal.
She shifted her buttocks over one heel, hoping to press her sex against it to alleviate the growing pressure there. It didn’t work.
Zander’s gaze flicked to her.
His teacher nearly took Zander’s head off with a sword—they’d picked up new weapons several rounds before—but Zander dropped to the ground and rolled out of the way, springing back to his feet and going on the offensive.
Their tussle grew more aggressive, and Zander’s fierce determination coupled with the sheer physicality and feline grace of his moves had her clit pulsing, her skin on fire, her breath uneven.
At last, they finished. They both bowed, and Zander spoke to him in their own tongue. The older male’s thoughtful gaze flicked to her, but he left the chamber without another word. The moment the door snicked shut, Zander strode over to her and hauled her to her feet. He shoved her against the wall and gripped her jaw, bringing his gorgeous face close to hers. “Bad slave.”
She sucked in her breath. What had she done?
“How was I supposed
to concentrate when your readouts were flashing your arousal levels the whole time?”
She flushed, her fear at his sudden assault instantly morphing to wanton need.
His thumb slid between her lips and she sucked on it. He attacked her with his mouth, kissing her. It was like no kiss she’d seen or experienced before. His tongue disciplined her, lashing between her lips. His teeth sank into her lower lip before he sucked it into his mouth. He held her head immobile for the onslaught, not allowing her to control any of it.
He pulled back, his eyes a glittering dark-violet. “You’re trembling. Are you scared?”
She couldn’t make her lips move to speak, but she shook her head no.
”Am I hurting you?”
She licked her lips. “Desire,” she managed to rasp out, her voice sounding hoarse.
He seized her again, cupping her ass and lifting her from the floor. “Do you want me to wash first?”
Was he really asking her? His slave? If she said yes, would he stop this and clean himself for her?
It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to find out, because she needed him desperately, and his masculine sweat only heightened her lust.
“I like you this way,” she purred and wrapped her legs around his waist, clutching at his shoulders.
He released his cock from his pants and yanked her panties to the side.
“I’m going to veck you right here, little slave. Right here in the exercise room.” He speared her, his huge cock filling her and taking her breath away.
With her body pinned to the wall, he slammed in and out of her, asserting his claim over her with each aggressive stroke.
Take me.