He let out a frustrated growl and shook his head.
Going to the door, he opened it and looked out. Apparently, the coast was clear—though what he was looking for, Bobbi didn’t have any idea.
“Why are you looking out there? Where are you going?” she asked, frowning.
“To get your posset,” he said shortly. “I’ll be back in a minute—stay here.”
Then he shut the door behind him and Bobbi heard a clicking sound.
He was gone and she was betting the big bastard had locked her in.
12
Dragon strode down the long hallway, irritation making his steps quick as his boots clicked on the tiled floor. Why did the little female keep accusing him of wanting to force her sexually? That wasn’t his way!
It’s the Saurian way, though, a little voice in his head pointed out.
Well, that was true enough. In Saurian society, it was usually only necessary to Claim a female in order to have sex with her—whether the female wanted to or not. It was easier with Pleasure Girls, of course, who were only for fucking. They could be had immediately for the right price, paid to their pimps.
If a male wished to Claim a female of repute who came from a good family, it was a more difficult and lengthy process. He must first bargain with her father or her older brother or uncle—whatever male family member was closest to her and considered the head of her household—and pay the correct bride price. But after they were legally Joined, he had the right to breed her and try to fertilize her eggs with his seed whether she wanted him to or not.
In Saurian society, once a male Claimed a female as his own, he could fuck her as often and as hard as he wanted to—she had no option to refuse. Dragon had been raised in that culture and yet somehow it had always felt wrong to him—wrong to his very bones.
He remembered the night of his Feast of Maturity—the time, at the age of eighteen cycles—when a male was considered ready to fuck or “spike” a female for the first time. As tradition demanded, his Sire, Rep. Vizlar, had provided him a female to Claim and breed for his own for a single night. She was just a Pleasure Girl but she had been a young one—perhaps a year younger than himself—barely of the legal breeding age.
Dragon could still remember that night—vividly. The Pleasure Girl his Sire had hired from a pimp in the blue light district had been a small female—though not as small as the little feela he’d left back in his rooms just now, he thought.
She’d had two rings of pink and blue scales that highlighted her large, yellow eyes. When he had entered the sleeping chamber where they had put her, those eyes had gone wide with fright and she had cowered before him, bowing low to the ground and groveling. He’d been able to smell the sour stench of her fear—it filled the small room, making his nostrils sting with its astringent odor.
“Please, Rep. Dragon!” she had begged, cringing in terror. “Please, I will submit to you, but please—I am only newly a Pleasure Girl! I…I have never had a male’s spike in my vaginal slit before. Please, do not hurt me too much!”
“You’re a virgin?” Dragon had demanded blankly. “Truly?”
The girl nodded, her eyes wide and sad.
“My Sire only sold me yesterday. And I heard your Sire telling the pimp that he wanted a female with an unused slit—one that hadn’t grown rough from having…having too many spikes thrust into it,” she had finished in a soft, frightened voice.
Any desire Dragon might have felt had melted away at the sight of her groveling there, pleading with him not to hurt her. He wasn’t much attracted to Saurian females anyway and he certainly didn’t wish to harm this little virgin who was begging so pitifully. But if he didn’t do this deed—if he didn’t Claim and breed a female—he would be ridiculed and laughed at and considered less of a mature male.
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her.
“Get up,” he’d said roughly. “I’m not going to hurt you—not going to spike you tonight.”
“You…you’re not?” She had looked up uncertainly.
“No—not if you work with me,” Dragon told her. “I won’t spike you, but we’ve got to make it sound like I am. Do you understand?”
Clarity had dawned in her bright yellow eyes and she had nodded eagerly.
“Yes, yes—I understand. I can make them think you’re breeding me—I swear I can!”
“Good.” Dragon nodded. “Then let’s go.” He began to thump the floor and make the low grunting sounds males sometimes made during breeding. When he nodded at the little Pleasure Girl, she began to howl in the manner of a female being bred or “spiked” as the Saurians called it.