His Human Possession (Zandian Masters 8)

“I mean, if you are unhappy, you may petition for a new guardian.” He fed her another bite when s

he lifted her chin for it.

“Unhappy how?”

His frown deepened. “It is undetermined.”

She rather loved when he turned stiff and formal like this, only because it meant he was uncomfortable. A mixture of relief and unease permeated her senses. Her instincts had been right—the Zandians were a fair and kind species. Being under their rule meant her situation had vastly improved.

Yet the idea of disengaging herself from this male sent a chaotic spiral of wrongness through her chest. She may not understand him. She may not find him easy to be with, but she was drawn to him like a magnet. She craved his touch, no matter how rough. Her body responded as if he had always been her master. Or as if he was her body’s only true master.

But she didn’t need him to know any of that. She batted her long lashes at him. “Maybe I’ll petition for a master who lets me suck his horns.”

Paal crushed the soft pouch of liquid he’d been holding in one hand and a sweet-smelling juice sprayed all over both of them.

She squealed and jumped up, laughing.

“You’re going to get spanked again,” his deep voice growled, but a smile tugged his lips as he lunged for her, catching her around the waist. “You want the horns, you’ll have to earn the right to suck them.” His hot breath feathered across her ear.

She giggled, struggling against him to be free, pleasure blooming everywhere he touched her.

He carried her into the washroom she’d meant to investigate after her nap and thrust her into a washtube. “Clean yourself, human. I want your hair down and the smell of Jujo washed from your skin.”

“I don’t smell like Jujo,” she grumbled, but moaned with pleasure the moment a warm spray of water drenched her from every side. “Don’t eat my food!” she called out over the spray of water. “I’m going to finish all of that.”

Paal chuckled. “I won’t eat your food, ridiculous human.”

She smiled and leaned back against the washtube surface. She was starting to get somewhere with this male.

Although the fact that he was also starting to get somewhere with her, too, should be something she worried more about.

3

Paal didn’t know what to do with his human. Part of him still rebelled at having her. He was a warrior, for stars’ sake, and his species was going to battle—within a few planet rotations if he read the signs correctly.

No one had said for certain which day they would strike the Finn to drive them off their planet, but judging from the acceleration of preparations going on all around him, it had to be soon.

He wouldn’t even be around to train the human to conform to Zandian society. Veck, he might not even survive the takeback. There was a chance none of them would return.

And yet the idea of even releasing her from his room—from his sight—made every cell in his body rebel.

Already her sweet, exotic scent filled the chamber, was on his tunic, his sleepdisk. His fingers. He closed his eyes, savoring the memory of having her spread wide, giving over to her urgent need to come.

How could he even think about sending her away after he’d seen that?

Impossible!

The washtube finished and he heard the door swish open. Part of him thought he should leave now, because knowing her clean, naked body stood just a few feet away made him want to barge into the washroom, bend her over the counter and force himself on her again. Veck, if he didn’t want to claim her tight backhole this time, now that he’d seen how the anal plug had undone her.

He adjusted his cock in his pants. Not yet. He hadn’t even allowed her to finish her meal. Nor had he seen to her wounded feet. And a tour of the pod might be in order.

He suddenly wondered what the spunky human would think of it.

He’d lived on Zander’s pod since puberty and the minute he’d come here, he’d never wanted to leave. He’d hated the times he had to return to visit his mother at some new domicile she’d taken. With some new male she’d seduced.

He was supposed to be grateful to her because she’d taken him and left Zandia to live with an Igorian just before the Finn attacked. Yet he’d never found it in him to thank her.

All he ever remembered was the look on his father’s face as they left. His utter devastation at discovering his mate had decided a miner couldn’t provide enough for her and her son. And seeing his father so ruined had ruined him, too.