When She Dances

"You're going to stop thanking me," he reprimands. "That was my pleasure."

I smile, and my chin is sticky with his release. His chest is now, too, thanks to the fact that I've been rubbing my face all over him. "Until you take me to Risda, right?"

His eyes gleam. "I have to get tired of you first."

"So never, right?" I joke, but I'm only half serious. Risda sounds like a dream come true, but…staying with him isn't exactly hellish either.

Zakoar absently pushes a strand of hair back from my face. "It might take some time," he admits. "I'm in no hurry."

Neither am I, strangely enough.12ZAKOARMy entire apartment reeks of mating.

I sip a hot mug of tea in the kitchen, and I can't help but notice the scent. It's not just on my skin, but it hangs in the air, as if our frenzied efforts have given a permanent stamp to the walls, the floors, the very air we breathe. I don't mind it. In fact, I rather like it. Better than the recycled scent of the station air and the faint stink of the body odor of strangers. I'd much rather breathe in the scent of Tessa's wet cunt mixed with my own release.

Thinking about Tessa makes me walk back to the bedroom. She's still asleep, sprawled in the blankets, her mouth open as she snores. I suspect I've exhausted my sweet little human, and I'm smugly pleased at the thought. In the last three days, we haven't been out of the bedroom for longer than a few minutes. Every conversation devolves into me claiming her again. We pause to eat something, and then I end up with my cock in her mouth, or my fingers in her cunt. We've mated in the kitchen, on the couches, in the shower, and almost every other flat surface possible. Tessa's backside is no longer bruised, at least. I know not to dig my fingers into her tender flesh, instead locking an arm around her hips as I pound into her from behind. And the cream helps, too. I insist on applying it to her cunt and her backside every day, just in case, and she gets wet the moment I start touching her…and then we mate again.

For a male that's prided himself on the fact that I've never needed a female in my life, I'm incredibly addicted to her. I keep telling myself that I'm just getting her out of my system, that anyone would be as obsessed with touching her as I am. That her laughter would please anyone. That her sighs and the noises she makes would entice any male. And then I think about another male touching her and lose my mind with barely controlled rage. I want to find Abuar and make him pay for what he put her through…and yet if it wasn't for Abuar, she wouldn't be in my bed right now.

From the doorway, I drink my tea and watch her sleeping. I'm not going to wake her up. I'm not. I can go without her for a few hours. After all, once I get her out of my system, I'm taking her to Risda III so she can be free. Risda's the self-righteous justification I used so I could buy her and not feel guilty for purchasing a sex slave…and yet…I don't like the thought of giving her up.

I will, because it's what I promised her. I'm just having more difficulty with the idea than I thought I would.

It's only been three days, though. Surely this intense craving will fade with time.

I hope.

I can't betray my word to her. I promised I'd take her to Risda, and I will. It just…might not be right away. A few months from now, perhaps. By then, surely I'll have grown tired of mating with her. I tip my cup, draining the last of my tea, and glance over at the vid-com station I've been ignoring for the last few days. A small, flashing light indicates I have waiting messages, and I suspect they're from Tikosa. It's not like me to not be at work every day. Even when I'm waiting for a parts shipment, I still prowl restlessly through the shop, bored and uneasy. Or I park in front of the shop and watch the female dance in the window. After I bought Tessa—between rounds of mating—I sent Tikosa a message and told him I was occupied with a project and that I might not be in for a few days. He won't call the authorities on me as a missing person—we both know the authorities aren't welcome near my business—but I'm sure he has questions.

Fighting the urge to go and wake Tessa up with my fingers in her cunt, I turn toward the vid-com and scroll through the messages. There's a few advertisements from the station businesses and I delete those without opening them. There's one from Tikosa—from this morning—and I click on it.