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When She Dances

Page 28

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Zakoar doesn't love me. He's in lust with me, but there are no plans for love. He's going to use me and then bring me somewhere safe, and that's all I can really ask for. Romantic nonsense has no place in the universe I've been dragged into. I learned that a long time ago.

Sex is the only tool I have left to me, so I'm going to use it.

"I thought about claiming you," he admits, voice halting as if he doesn't want to confess this to me. When I look up at him, he cups my cheek, his fingers playing over my skin. "Thought about breaking that keffing window and just dragging you out of there."

"Why didn't you?" I ache at the thought of all those years of dancing, of hating my life, of sleeping on a small, hard bed and eating nothing but protein bars. I could have been with him instead.

He gestures at his body. "Because no female wants this."

"I want this."

"You're a slave. That's different. I bought you and made this part of our bargain." His mouth goes flat, his gaze shuttered.

Not this again. I take his hand and guide it to my thighs. "Put your fingers inside me. Feel how wet I am. Then tell me I don't want you."

"You're doing this because I bought you." Zakoar's hand presses against my folds, a finger gliding through my slickness.

"True. And if you hadn't, I'd be lying under someone else, but I wouldn't be touching them because I wanted to touch them. I wouldn't be volunteering to take him into my mouth and make him come. I wouldn't be volunteering anything." I lean over his cock, letting my breath play over the head. "And I sure wouldn't be wet at the thought of making him come."

Zakoar groans again, his fingers finding my entrance and spearing me inside. Jesus, even his fingers are big, and I wriggle against his hand, still sore and aching but wanting nothing more than to grind down against those big, intruding fingers. Focus, Tessa, I remind myself. Focus on what's in front of you.

And what's in front of me is an enormous, enticing blue cock.

I lick the head, lapping up the beads of pre-cum glazing the tip. I love the hiss of his breath, and the way I can feel every muscle in his body clench in response to just that small touch. "Are these for advertising, too?" I ask, circling the tip of my tongue around one bulbous piercing. There's one above his glans, and one underneath, and for a man that's awkward in bed, I find the fact that he has these utterly fascinating.

Plus…I'm pretty sure they rubbed my G-spot repeatedly when he fucked me, so that's another reason I'm obsessed.

He inhales sharply, his gaze locked on me as I tongue one piercing and then the other. "It's…customary…amongst my people. Like capping horns."

"Mmm. Someone should write a thank you to whoever came up with them. They feel great inside a girl." I tickle the underside of his cockhead with my tongue tip. "Or is there another reason?"

Zakoar shakes his head, riveted to the movements of my tongue. "Pleasing a mate. That's why."

For some reason, hearing that makes me a little sad. He got these piercings even though he's clearly never expected a woman to look in his direction. And a mate…not that I'll ever be someone's mate. That's not in the cards for me. Feeling wistful, I shake off the sadness that threatens to rise up and grip the base of his cock. "Whoever she's going to be, she's a lucky girl."

His fingers move inside me, thrusting gently. "Is she?"

"Oh yeah." I squirm against his hand, then lean down and give his cock an utterly indecent lick. "This thing is a wrecking ball. You destroyed me with it." When he tenses, uncertain at my wording, I clarify. "Four times last night. Or was it more?"

He pauses for a moment, thinking. "Five?"

Yeah, it might have been five. Hard to say. All I know is that it was an utterly intense experience and one I'd quite happily have again. I lick the prominent silver vein on his cock. "Is this metal, too?"

"Wiring," he pants. "Just…wiring through the veins." He sucks in a deep breath when I drag my tongue along the underside of his cock. "Network…"

Oh wow. "That's amazing."

His fingers work my pussy harder, my body making sloppy, loud sounds with how wet I am. I whimper, distracted, and focus all my attention on his cock. This is supposed to be about pleasing him, not me. I tongue him with eagerness, learning each ridge of his cock and figuring out how to please him. Caressing his spur doesn't elicit much of a reaction unless I graze the underside, but his taut sac is as sensitive as expected. I tease it with one hand, working his base with the other as my mouth moves over the prominent crown of his cock. I can't take much of him into my mouth because of his sheer size and the piercings, so I just focus on making everything I do feel good. I squeeze and pump his shaft with my hand as I work the wet tip of him with my tongue, sucking on him with my lips, and basically being the biggest tease I can possibly be.


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