Their Zandian Mate (Zandian Masters 9)

His lips twitched as his gaze shifted over to her, roaming the length of her body with a feral interest. “Take off your clothes, Eslyn.”

She didn’t move. Not because she meant to defy him, only because her body wouldn’t obey the command from her mind.

“Let me do it,” Granit murmured behind her, his thick arms reaching around to unfasten the clasp of the robe at her throat. Her skin burned hot everywhere his arms brushed. She stared down at his large digits working the carved bead out of the loop.

Damon continued to root through the bin, pulling out ominous-looking implements. All different-sized paddles made of wood. A braided rope of animal hide. A flat strap. Cuffs and collars.

Her pussy clenched.

Laake squatted at her feet and unlaced the soft animal-skin boots she’d been given. Granit succeeded in unhooking the robe and he pulled it off her shoulders. Laake removed the boots, then slid his hands slowly up her calves, dragging the hem of her sheath up. “She’s trembling.”

Stars, she was. She had two males’ hands on her at once and now the gaze of a third. Damon folded his arms over his sculpted chest, watching with an impassive face. Like the rest of them, he wore a white uniform, which stretched across his broad shoulders and thick muscles in swoon-worthy lines. If it weren’t for the length and tilt of his horns, she might be unsure of his interest, but they gave him away.

Laake’s callused palms traveled further up her legs, sliding up her thighs, molding around the curves of her ass, up her sides. She whimpered as the fabric crested the stiff points of her nipples, but lifted her arms over her head to allow him to remove it. Her breasts tumbled free of the sheath and bounced. Her tight nipples burned, milk rushing to the tips.

“Veck, she’s beautiful,” Laake murmured.

Beautiful—her? Was it true? She didn’t know—it’s not like Sankro, Banf, or Elit ever told her and she’d had no looking glass on Zandia, save a pool of water.

Granit, still standing behind her, buried his fingers in her hair. “Incredibly lovely,” he agreed.

Her face grew warm.

Granit fisted his hand and used her hair to tug her head backwards. He peered down at her. “She’s blushing,” he observed.

The males spoke about her as if she was an object, but the wonder in their voices made it enjoyable. It was foolish, but she loved the attention the warriors paid her. It gave her a sense of power she’d never known.

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; Damon sauntered forward and she blushed harder, his appreciative perusal of her body sending tingles skittering across her skin. Her knees trembled even more as she stood in nothing but her panties, watching him approach.

“Do you think her pussy is as beautiful as her breasts?” Laake’s voice sounded thick as he looped his thumbs into the waistband of her panties.

Granit circled an arm around her waist and spread his palm across her belly. “Let’s find out.” His voice, too, sounded gravelly. He slid his palm lower as Laake pulled down her panties.

“Don’t pleasure her yet,” Damon commanded and Granit’s hand stopped before it reached her mound. “Punishment first.”

Her knees buckled and Granit’s arm cinched around her waist, holding her up. His other hand came around to cup one of her breasts, which he squeezed, brushing his thumb over her sensitized nipple.

She hadn’t wobbled out of fear of their punishment, although her pulse raced. He’d said, punishment first. Which implied there would also be pleasure. And the idea of pleasure at these males’ hands made the room tilt and swoop around her.

The breast Granit held leaked a drop of milk onto his fingers. Mortified, she tried to mop it up with her finger. “I’m sorry.”

He snatched her wrist and brought her fingers to his mouth. “Mine,” he growled and closed his lips over the wetness there, sucking it from her fingers.

She gasped at the sensation, her pussy responding as if he’d kissed her there, instead.

Laake grasped her ankle to help her out of the panties and stood beside Damon, lids drooping at what he saw.

She tried to cover her pussy with her free hand, but Granit caught that wrist, too, and pulled both arms high over her head. “Is the view as beautiful from there as it is from here?”

The other two males nodded, eyes fixed on the apex of her thighs. “Perfect,” Laake muttered.

“Indeed,” Damon agreed.

A drip of arousal trickled onto her inner thigh.

“What’s her punishment?” Granit asked.