His Human Possession (Zandian Masters 8)

“All unstationed guards to the atrium,” a voice clipped.

Her disappearance had been discovered.

“Yes, Captain,” the guard who could only be a few paces away from them, just around the corner, answered.

The warrior held her still until they heard the door grind closed, then he hustled her up the ramp onto a gleaming new ship. He spoke into his comms unit. “The female has been safely extracted to the ship.”

“Nice work,” answered another deep male voice. “Stay with her there. We can handle things in here.”

“Copy that.” He ended the transmission and turned to her. His gaze skittered to her bare breasts, then lower to her bare sex, lasered free of hair.

She made a show of perusing his body like he studied hers, letting her gaze land on the enormous bulge in his pants.

He scowled as if he hated what he saw, but she had enough experience to know the look. He thought he couldn’t have her. He’d done his duty rescuing her and now he thought he was stuck standing guard with a boner hard enough to crack marble.

Tend and befriend. That was her second rule of survival as a slave. Reward the male who saved her, keep his interest as long as she needed his protection.

She turned on all her weapons. She snaked her arms around his neck, rubbing her breasts against his broad chest as she swayed her hips in a slow dance.

His body went rigid, horns stiffened. “What are you doing?” he choked. His cock lurched against her belly, hard and impressive in size.

She kept up her swaying, brought her lips to the patch of skin above his collar. “Thank you,” she breathed. “For saving me.”

She wasn’t above playing every weak submissive female card she had.

“Get off me,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

Something about his irritation made her all the more determined to seduce him. She stood on her tiptoes and nipped his ear.

“Stop, female,” he growled. Reaching behind his neck, he grabbed one of her wrists, disentangling it from his nape. In two seconds flat, he slapped a pair of prison cuffs on her wrists and had them magnetized to the wall in front of her.

His huge hand clapped down on her ass.

The stinging blow went straight to her core. Her pussy clenched, excitement zinging down her inner thighs. She’d jumped on impact, but put herself back in position for him.

More, please.

This played perfectly into her game. The act of punishing could be erotic for a male. It wasn’t that she wanted him to continue because of her own arousal.

At all.

No, creating any kind of bond with her master was the key to an easier existence as a slave. Sometimes even to survival.

It seemed to work. His hand cracked down again and again, the loud slaps echoing off the metal walls of the ship, his harsh breaths betraying the effect it had on him.

She tried to ignore the effect it had on her, but every smack sent a fresh sizzle of excitement through her body. She twitched her thighs together to alleviate the throb in her clit.

He stopped and roughly squeezed one of her buttcheeks with an audible inhale. “You’re aroused.” He sounded surprised. “So it’s true that human females enjoy pain?”

She struggled to catch her breath. “Some.”

~.~

Some. Paal fought back the blinding need to veck the little human until she screamed. That’s what she wanted. She’d been trying to play him, rubbing those taut nipples all across his uniform. What was her game?

Still, he couldn’t resist sliding his fingers between her legs to feel the arousal he’d scented from her. Glorious nectar dripped from her swollen folds. His pulse kicked up three notches.

She jerked but held still for his touch, same as she had when he’d spanked her. Inhaling in deep, measured breaths, she leaned her forehead against the cool metal surface.