His Human Slave (Zandian Masters 1)

Love. The word grated on him. Love was a foolish human construct. Or, if it existed, it mattered far less than humans believed. Had he ever loved? He cast his mind back to his parents. He didn’t remember loving them or being loved. All he remembered was the pain of losing them, and the majority of his species, on that horrible day the Finn invaded. He had grieved for them for solar cycles. Was that love?

He fingered one of her curls. It was impossibly soft and silky. He wanted to smell it but not while she watched him with those big green eyes.

Had he given her the same grief he’d felt when he escaped the genocide of the Finn and ended up in Ocretia alone? Not alone—he had the whole pod of devoted Zandians, but no family.

His chest tightened in sympathy for her pain. “Do you want me to return you there?” He didn’t know if he would—he couldn’t, really, not until he’d bred her. Still, he held his breath for her answer.

She gazed up at him with those lovely eyes, caught in indecision. Her hesitation was enough. He relaxed.

Her eyes filled with tears.

“Why?” he asked, thumbing up the tear that leaked from the corner of her eye and licking it. He loved the taste of her tears almost as much as he disliked her crying. It was a strange paradox.

She closed her eyes and shook her head.

“No, you don’t want me to return you there, or, no, you won’t tell me why you cry?”

“I...I don’t know,” she rasped.

He shook his head. Humans. If he was smart, he’d get rid of this girl as quickly as possible, before she disrupted his entire pod. He sighed. “How long do humans sleep at one time?”

“They only allowed us five hours at the agrifarm. How long do you sleep? My lord?” She tacked the my lord onto the end. The question was still disrespectful, but at least she was starting to learn to speak with deference.

“I sleep four hours. You may rest as long as you like here.” The longer, the better—she interrupted too much of his work time as it was.

The corners of her lips lifted in a faint smile. “Thank you, my lord.” Her eyes were already drifting closed. He watched her breathing deepen and her muscles relax. She tugged at her wrists in her sleep, her brow furrowing when they didn’t move. She rolled into him, tossing one leg across his hips and making a little cooing sound, like a faint hum.

He smelled his scent on her, her warmth and softness more luxurious than his fine sheets and blankets. His cock hardened again from the contact with her flesh. He ran his fingertip from her bound wrists down her arm and around her small but perky breasts. He traced her nipple. It stiffened and stood up, much like his horns’ reaction to her closeness. He had to rub his horns on her. Careful not to disturb her rest, he leaned up on one elbow and dragged one horn down the length of her torso.

She hummed again, her expression blissful. He loved that tiny smile on her. She was far more pleasant when asleep. He rubbed the other horn around her breast, shuddering at the pleasure of it. He wanted to veck her again. The first time should

have been like this—with her lying face up so he could explore her body and watch her expression.

No, she probably still would’ve yelled and bitten him. Hopefully, she’d get used to it soon. When she wasn’t testing his temper with her constant sass, he found her intriguing. Far more fascinating than he’d imagined a human female might be. Complex, yes, and deceitful, not unappealing.

He thought about taking her again. It was his right, after all. She was his slave, chained to his bed. But, no, she’d had enough for one day. He didn’t want to make her cry again. He’d probably have to do plenty of that again in the next planet rotation.

Chapter 3

She woke alone on Zander’s sleeping platform. She opened her eyes without moving, not wanting to call attention to herself. The fabrics touching her skin were silky soft, finely woven with incredibly intricate patterns in beautiful colors—some she’d never seen before.

Zander sat shirtless on his platform in front of his holograms. His back was to her. He worked quickly, fingers flying as he opened holograms and sent them. He had the volume turned low—was that for her? He truly had allowed her to sleep in, as he’d promised. Something warm and syrupy slithered through her chest and belly.

With her gaze, she traced the lines of his rigid muscles from his wide shoulders and down his corded arms, tapering to a narrow waist. Her body heated as she remembered the way he’d taken her the night before, strapped down to the bench with her ass in the air. Something jumped and fluttered in her belly. Her pussy clenched. She squeezed her bottom, testing. It didn’t hurt anymore, even though she’d thought she’d die at the time. So the punishment had not been so awful after all. Her pussy still stung, but not in a bad way. It was the initial stretching that had hurt. When he’d entered her the second time, she’d almost enjoyed the feel of him surging inside her. It was like scratching an itch—both satisfying and uncomfortable at the same time. But it had ended sooner than she wanted.

She honestly didn’t know why she’d cried afterward. It wasn’t because she hurt, although she had. It was more the buildup and shock of the entire day. Being away from familiar surroundings, having to adjust to new rules. Grieving for her mother.

When he’d asked her if she wanted to return to her old life, she hadn’t been sure how to answer. She missed her mother, yes. And she’d loved her plants. But her life there had been full of hard work, with little rest or sustenance. Beatings there were brutal—life-threatening. There’d been no beauty.

The punishments here had been painful and humiliating but had caused her no lasting harm. And all she had to do to avoid them was grovel—something she hated, but that only damaged her pride. In Zander’s pod, she was surrounded by opulence and beauty. The food and drink practically exploded with flavor. Color and light and fine quality materials glittered at every turn. So far, the worst she had to suffer here was kneeling at Zander’s feet, showing him respect, and letting him use her body as often as he pleased. She wondered how often he would please. Daily? More than once a day? That thought should not excite her so much, and she felt guilty for enjoying things here when her mother remained on the agrifarm.

Zander opened a new communication hologram and spoke rapidly in another language to the male whose image appeared in the chamber.

The being raked his eyes over her with a leer and said something.

Zander whipped his head around to look at her and scowled. He waved his hand and disconnected the transmission with a sharp command.

“Cover yourself.”