His Human Slave (Zandian Masters 1)

His lips kicked up another notch. He liked being called that.

Her pussy moistened again.

Zander slid his eyes down the length of her dripping body and back up again, and his irises turned deep violet once more. His horns tilted in her direction.

She craned her neck to peer around the little chamber. “Is there, um, a towel?”

He smirked and hit a control on the side of the cylinder. The door slid shut once more.

“No, wait!” She banged against it. “Please! I don’t want another bath.”

His deep chuckle echoed against the gemstone walls of the tube.

But, this time, the tube did not fill with water, it filled with warm air, blowing from every direction, drying her body. After a few moments, when her skin had dried, it stopped. Her hair still hung in wet ringlets, but it no longer dripped. The door slid open again.

Zander had gone. Disappointment flickered through her. Wait...was that true? That she missed Zander’s mocking presence? Or even his stern one?

She found a large stone comb on the counter. It hadn’t been there before, so Zander must’ve put it there for her. He certainly didn’t need a comb with his short hair. She pulled it through her hair and, after investigating the hidden controls on the outer wall, reentered the “quick-wash tube” for a second dry, this time for her hair. She discovered there were also controls for “oil,” which sprayed a fine mist of oil over her body. She managed to pull her hair up off her back just in time to avoid getting it sprayed. “Shine” lightly dusted her with the glimmering powder she’d worn on her first day there. Thank the one true star—she’d been afraid Daneth or some other being had washed her before she awoke at Zander’s pod, but more likely they’d put her in some form of washtube. Although how did she not drown? She discovered different scents were available—the spicy scent of Zander, and also the lighter, citrusy fragrance she’d smelled on her hair the first day.

She emerged with her long hair dry, a glow on her skin, and smelling fresh and clean. She’d feel incredible if the cuffs on her neck, wrists and ankles didn’t rub now that they were wet.

Zander swiveled in his seat when she emerged. Remembering his edict from the day before, she went and knelt at his feet. His usually stern gaze softened and he dropped a hand on the back of her head, stroking her hair. “Yes, if you stay at my feet, you

will not be seen while I conduct business.” He tweaked a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “And then you may remain naked, the way I like you.”

A shiver of excitement ran through her.

“Forgive me, master.” Obviously, it hadn’t been her fault she’d been seen—she’d been bound to his bed—but she wanted to experiment with acting slave-like. She liked his amused smile far better than his glower. If winning his approval was truly as easy as feigning subservience, it was worth playing his game.

Or did she actually wish to please him? Surely not.

She did like the way his glittering eyes roved over her.

He hooked a finger through the ring at her collar. His thumb touched the leather. “You washed with these on.”

“I cannot remove them, my lord.” Because you hold the controls.

“Next time, ask me to take them off first. Release wrist cuffs. Release ankle cuffs. Release collar.” All five dropped to the floor.

She rubbed the raw skin at her neck.

He wrapped his huge hand around her throat. She caught her breath. One squeeze from that powerful fist would end her life.

“Delicate human skin,” he muttered.

Her stomach rumbled, and he released her neck and frowned. “Again?”

She bowed her head, biting back the reminder it had been half a planet’s rotation already since she’d eaten. She would be a good slave today. Avoid getting spanked. Learn her way around here.

“Clothe yourself.” He jerked his head toward the sleeping platform. While she’d been in the washroom, some being had straightened the covers and left a neat pile of clothing on the end.

She started to stand but saw censure in his expression. She froze. What did he want? Oh. “Yes, my lord.” She spoke with her head lowered.

He turned back to his holograms, effectively dismissing her.

Arrogant male.

She stood, her knees cracking from kneeling, and made her way to the sleeping platform. A fluffy pink sweater, knit of the finest natural material she’d ever seen sat on the top of the pile. She picked it up. Downy soft. She rubbed it on her cheeks. She’d never felt anything so soft—not even the fuzzy little seed pods from the rheebush she loved so well. It had the same slightly citrus smell as the soap from the washtube. She pulled it over her head. It touched her skin like a caress, hugged her body. For the bottom, there were panties, leggings, and a skirt that was really more like a cape—open in the front and covering the back to mid-thigh. They were also constructed of finely woven fabrics.