Mastered by the Zandians (Zandian Brides 3)

“If you mean freeing the humans—” I swear my heart is skipping a beat, and it’s hard to focus on his words, with these sensations surging through my body.

“Stealing our property,” corrects Domm, crossing his arms and frowning,

“Then no.” I cross my arms, too. “I will never apologize for helping human females escape terror.”

“They do not face terror here. We already assisted their escape from mistreatment. And they were not yours to take.”

“Nor yours.” I glower.

“Archer paid the price.”

“It appears that I am now the one paying the price.” I intend to make my words a mockery, a joke of sorts, but they come out fierce, forlorn. And the mood, which had veered from serious to something lighter, is definitely melancholy.

“Yet some things are beyond cost, are they not?” Lanz tugs me back into his arms and strokes down my body, his strong hands gentle.

I don’t reply, but I relax as he continues to touch me. Powerful, yet firm.

“We are not asking you to apologize for your passion, or your goals. Which are admirable.”

His hands glide around my breasts, my hips. I catch my breath. It’s hard to concentrate on his words with my body blooming under his touch.

“Merely to admit that you were wrong to steal from us. And to acknowledge that it was the theft of yours which embroiled all of us in a deadly altercation with the Ocretion ship.”

“Which battle,” adds Domm, “cost us damage to our ship, most certainly set our new humans backwards in terms of recovery, and worst of all—we almost lost you.”

“I’m sure I’m not a great factor in this cosmic equation.” My voice quivers. “Had I not stolen from you, I wouldn’t be your captive at all.”

“True, and that would be a shame.” Domm’s hands also stroke, over and over. “So perhaps this should be more reward than punishment.”

I feel soft and melty, like resin in the sun. Pliant. And the driving need is back in my core, urging me to push my buttocks back into Lanz’ body.

Lanz’ cock is iron-hard, pressing into my back. I grind against him without shame, so curious about his body, unable to resist my motions. I need more.

This time when he taps my thighs, I spread my legs wider, and tilt my hips forward instinctively. His fingers slide upward, little by little, and then he finds my clit. His touch is soft, like air, but I’m so primed that I cry out, new pleasure rolling over me.

“She’s so sensitive. Veck.” Lanz’ voice is hushed. “I’ve never before…” He strokes me with the tip of his index finger, and I tremble, my knees weak.

Lanz scoops me up into his arms and sits down beside Domm on the bench. “It won’t take much, but first I need to taste her.”

“I’ll hold her open.” I don’t know what he means, but a second later it’s clear. Domm grabs my panties and rips, tearing them from my body. Then he tugs me onto his lap, spreads his thighs, and places my legs over his, so my back is pressing into his chest, and my pussy is wide open.

“What?” I exclaim, wriggling over his lap.

“Shhh, you’re going to like this.” Lanz kneels. “Domm’s going to touch you while I use my tongue. I promise you’ve never felt anything like it.”

He puts one strong hand on each of my thighs, as if to keep them open, and while he does, Domm reaches around and begins to tug my nipples. Bites my neck. Licks, kisses it.

And then I nearly levitate out of their strong hands, because Lanz puts his tongue to my clit and licks, and I combust.

“Mother Earth!” It’s too much sensation, and I tug at their hands, not sure what I need: More, less.

He chuckles and I feel the vibration in my belly. “Lie back. It only gets better from here.” I do, because I like this—a lot.

I’m still trembling when he ducks his head back down, his horns tickling my thighs as he moves, and when he puts his tongue back to my clit, I whimper and close my eyes, leaning back into Domm’s embrace.

The feeling grows and swells, and I toss my head back, hard, into Domm’s shoulder. Almost a battle move, although not as fierce. When he puts his hand to my mouth, I bite it, not caring how hard, and his roar of pain and appreciation is music to my ears.

“Vecking little vipn,” he growls, and squeezes my nipples hard. I moan and bite him again—he’s left his hand there, almost like he wants my aggression, and he grabs my neck. Squeezes. “Do it