His Human Slave (Zandian Masters 1)

She screamed, her muscles convulsing around his cock in spasmodic squeezing, milking it for his seed. She’d been ready to come since the moment he began fighting, so the intensity of the orgasm made lights dance before her eyes.

When it passed, she went boneless, a limp rag, hardly able to hold her own head up.

A couple of tears leaked from the outer corners of her eyes.

Zander licked them and closed his eyes as if relishing the taste of her tears. “Did I hurt you?” His voice had gone tender, now. Holy star, how she loved this side of him.

She shook her head, even though he’d surely left bruises all up and down her back. She didn’t care. It had been explosively satisfying.

He scooped her into his arms, yanked her dress down, and carried her back to his chamber.

When they passed Gunt at the door, he narrowed his eyes at her, his mouth contorting as if he’d just eaten an insect. She didn’t think Zander noticed, but was grateful when the door snicked closed behind them.

Zander arranged her in her cage with a pillow under her hips to keep his seed in. She didn’t even mind the cage—her body still glowed from the sex, her pussy pulsing and sore, her blood humming.

He set a timer. “When that goes off, you may move. Take off your clothes and wait for my return. I have a few things to do after I go in the washtube.”

Her eyelids grew heavy and she drifted off to sleep, remembering the feel of Zander’s large hands on her body.

~.~

“My lord, a word?” Gunt, the guard stationed outside Zander’s room stopped him before he went in.

His mind on all the things he was going to do with his naked slave, he stopped with a touch of impatience. “Yes?”

“Your slave, my lord. She’s been trying to escape.”

He stared, his mind stuttering on Gunt’s words. “She can’t escape.” Every exit in the pod was guarded, and every guard in the pod understood she was not to be allowed out. Even if she found an exit—and he hadn’t heard that she had gone anywhere but where she was supposed to go—she would never be permitted through it.

“She offered her body to me in exchange for helping her escape, my lord.”

Zander’s torso flushed with a flash of cold, followed closely by red-hot rage. He lunged at Gunt, wrapping his fist in the guard’s tunic and shoving his back against the wall. “She what?”

The guard’s eyes widened in shock. “I didn’t do it—I wouldn’t, my lord,” he stammered. “I told her no, of course.”

He wanted to skin her alive. Lamira—his little slave, his breeder—had offered her vecking affections to his guards.

He dropped the male and activated the door, striding into his room, ready for battle.

“Cage open.” He stormed to it and grasped her ankle, yanking her roughly out.

“Zander,” she screamed in alarm.

“Do not speak my name.” His voice sounded like cold steel. It sounded more steady than he felt. He dropped her in a cowering heap at his feet.

Veck. Veckity veck veck. Not Lamira. Not his vecking slave.

“What’s wrong?” She stood up and tilted her deceitful face up to him.

“What’s wrong?” he repeated. “I have learned about your attempted escape.”

She went still, proving the truth of his words. Veck. He’d still somehow hoped it wasn’t true.

“I beg your pardon?” Her voice sounded choked.

“Oh yes, you’ll be begging my pardon for a long time to come,” he raged. The level of his anger was beyond any he’d ever experienced. How could a little human female inspire such depth of emotion in him?

He grasped her wrists and hauled her to the center of the room. With her arms pulled up over her head, he attached her cuffs to a strap hung from the ceiling. He pulled it taut until it lifted her up onto her toes.