"I told you to stay put," Zakoar says. His tone is grumpy, but he doesn't sound truly mad, so I choose to ignore it.
I turn to smile brightly at him. He's got a vial of something pale pink in his hand, and his cock is standing erect once more, piercings winking at me. Jesus, this man and his stamina. "Yes, but I was thirsty and hoped you wouldn't mind if I checked out the kitchen. I'm really trying not to bother you. Just show me a protein bar and water and I'll be a happy camper."
He strides over to me, beautiful and deadly, and starts pushing buttons on one of the panels. I can't help but admire him because naked, he's fascinating to look at. There's not an inch of him that looks as if it hasn't been reworked in some way. His back is a lattice of metal, his spine is, too. His chest seems as if it's been stitched together and his face has the same patchwork look to it. Even so, he moves with lethal grace, a man utterly confident in his deadliness. My earlier estimation of Zakoar being a man who's been through some shit and emerged out the other side stronger and meaner is absolutely spot-on, I suspect. Maybe this is why he's a virgin.
Was. Was a virgin. The man standing next to me with the hard cock is an absolute beast in bed and very much no longer a virgin. I can't believe someone with a libido like his hasn't had sex before, but I can't shake that feeling. I also can't believe he's turned on again.
Actually, no, I can believe it. It's my poor bruised pussy that's both anticipating and dreading another round.
"You're not eating a protein bar," he grumbles as the dispenser drops a dish carefully into place and begins to fill it with hot water and something that smells sweet and delicious. "You can have a normal morning meal like any other sentient being."
"Thank you." I nudge him with my hip. "You charmer you."
"Charmer?"
I smile to take the sting out of my words. Okay, he doesn't get my jokes, so I guess we're not at that level of friendliness yet despite both of us standing in his kitchen, naked, after multiple rounds of sex. "I just…when you refer to me as a sentient being instead of a person, it makes me think of like…sentient rocks and plants. Not people."
To my surprise, he flushes a little, his cheek staining a darker shade of blue, and he looks uncomfortable. "I didn't mean it like that."
"I know. I was teasing." Suddenly uncertain, I draw back a little. It's in my nature to be informal and teasing with someone when I'm comfortable with them, and I feel safe here with Zakoar. But if he doesn't appreciate my easiness with him, I need to rein it in. The last thing I want is him getting frustrated or angry with me because he misunderstands a joke. "I apologize. I won't do it again."
Zakoar narrows his eyes at me, and to my surprise, he bumps my hip with his, as well. "I like your teasing. Just because I ask for clarification doesn't mean you should stop. I much prefer this to your weeping."
"If it makes you feel any better, I much prefer this to weeping.”
He pulls the plate out from under the dispenser and holds it out to me. What looks like steaming slabs of something pancake-like have a fruity sauce dribbled over them and it smells utterly divine. I take it from him, my mouth watering, and don't even bother with a seat. I just grab the stick-utensil he holds out to me and spear the first one.
It tastes like a cross between cake and a nutty, thick oatmeal. It's slightly grainy, but the sweetness is delicious and I want to cry with how good it is. Oh my god. For someone that's lived on protein bars for the last several years, this is heaven on earth. I close my eyes, savoring the taste.
"Are you all right?" His voice is surprisingly gentle.
"I think this might be the happiest I've been in five years," I admit, taking another bite. I try to eat slower, but oh god, it's so good.
He chuckles, and the sound is raspy, as if it's unfamiliar for him to be laughing this early in the morning. Or at all. "I didn't realize that was all it took to please you."
"Me and every other slave on this station," I admit. My stomach feels full already, but I keep eating, determined to cram every bit of deliciousness into my mouth. I am not leaving a drop of syrup or a single crumb on this plate.
"I don't own every other slave on this station, but I do own you. For now." His hand goes to my shoulder, and then he glances down at my hips, his expression unhappy. "And I don't like that I bruised you. When you're done eating, I want to put this on you." He picks up the vial again. "It'll help you heal quickly."