Their Zandian Mate (Zandian Masters 9)

“You should have climbed up,” she said, voice still husky. “I would have sucked you off at the same time.”

Damon’s lips curved upward. “I don’t think Granit would’ve tolerated my balls swinging in his face. But I’m not worried. I’ll take my turn when the time is right.”

She wiggled her body around and rolled onto her back, head hanging off the sleep disk. “I’ll suck you now.” She opened her mouth.

“Vecking stars.”

She liked seeing Damon lose composure, the flush of purple in his face matching the color of his irises. Though she was attracted to all three, it was he who she found herself wanting to please. Perhaps because he seemed harder to win over than the other two.

This was the first time she could remember being eager to receive a male. Unlike every other time in her life, sex with these males wasn’t a chore. It had been rough, but in all the right ways. She hadn’t had her knees skinned on bare ground, or been knocked around first. There was lubricant besides saliva and partners who paid attention to her responses. Who used endearments when they spoke to her, not curses.

Damon closed the distance between them and dipped his cock into her mouth. She fit her lips around his girth and hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard.

On the sleep disk, two sets of hands stroked her body. She whimpered, lust sparking to flames despite her recent release.

Damon plunged his cock into the back of her throat and she had to work to relax, to swallow it down and let him go as deep as he wanted. “Eslyn, you are so good at this,” he praised. “You’re sucking my cock so well, beautiful. I’m going to make sure you get all the pleasure you need and more.”

She gave another muffled hum of excitement.

“Granit, do you want to kiss her pretty pussy?” Damon offered. He was their director of action, but so different from Sankro, who’d been the most dominant of her former mates. Sankro had taken first, then walked away. Never cared about anyone’s pleasure but his own. If he caught one of the other males taking her, he inserted himself into the scene—claiming another orifice or demanding the one he wanted be vacated. Sometimes he fought the other males for using her. They’d lived like wild animals on Zandia.

Someone shoved her knees apart. She cried out when a tongue dragged through her pussy, hot and wet.

“You like that, beautiful?” Damon asked.

“Mmm hmm.”

“When you like something, you suck harder, understand?”

She sucked harder.

Damon groaned and cursed. “Slap her breasts, Laake.”

“Slap them?” Laake asked doubtfully. “Isn’t her punishment over?”

“Try it. We’ll know if she likes it by how she—veck!”

She’d already taken a harder pull, excited by the discussion. Laake slapped. Granit kissed. She sucked.

Damon plunged in and out. She thought it might have been his fingers that pulled and pinched her nipples between slaps, but she couldn’t be sure. Liquid heat poured through her body.

Granit inserted a finger or two inside her as he sucked on her most sensitive nubbin. She moaned around Damon’s cock.

“She vecking loves that. Make her come,” Damon commanded.

Granit finger-vecked her until she arched off the sleep disk, another orgasm ripping through her. Her muscles squeezed around Granit’s digits. She sucked so hard her jaw muscles ached.

“Oh, Eslyn,” Damon crowed. “Your sexy mouth sucks so good.” He grasped the sides of her ribs and used her as his veck-hole, plunging in and out. “Yes, veck, yes!” He pulled out, painting her breasts with his rainbow-hued cum.

“Mmm.” She trailed her fingers through his seed, drawing patterns with it over her skin.

“Wash tube,” Damon panted when he’d finished.

Immediately, someone scooped her up—Granit again—and carried her into the washroom, where he propped her on shaky legs in the wash tube.

Damon pushed Laake in behind her and shut the door. Laake cradled the back of her head as water poured into the tube. He pressed her back against the wall, his youthful muscled body flattening hers. She expected a hard kiss, but instead, he rested his forehead against hers. “Are you all right, sweet female?”

“Yes,” she whispered.