“You're certainly not a virgin anymore, are you, human?” I growl down at her. “I have made you something else entirely. I have turned you into my horny little fuck toy, my human sex doll.”
The more I growl these words of triumph, the tighter her pussy grips me. She loves it, this stern and snarling lecture.
“Are you a bad girl?”
“Yes," she hisses, reaching for me. I let her fingers wrap in the lower reaches of my hair. She pulls on it, not out of any kind of desire to hurt me, but out of that helpless human need to be connected and to grasp for comfort.
I feel my seed beginning to build against the gates of my physiology. I want to fill her again. I want to know that she tastes like me once more. Every thrust makes her toes curl and her cheeks pinken. Her eye is half-closed, her head tipped back as she gives herself to me like the good little prisoner she is.
I look down at the place we are joined, where her pretty pink lips are gripping my golden cock. This is not a sight that nature ever intended to be seen. Her species and mine should never mate. This is an abomination, a taboo, and the hottest orgasm I have ever experienced.
The first time we mated I was trying to make an example of her. Now I am simply enjoying her. Every part of her. My climax is drawn from the roots of my hair and the tips of my toes. Then I am flooding inside her, spilling my essence into this little human vessel who can barely contain it.
We cannot say anything of what we feel. I can sense her desire to speak what is between us. I can feel my own need to say soft and loving things. But we cannot. She is my captive. I am the avenging king. How then are we lying together on the torture table now? Her fingers tangled in my hair, my arms wrapped around her sexy body. I pull her close and I close my eyes and I pretend that this is something that could last—though I know it is not. We are not only too different, we exist as opposites. It is my duty to destroy her.
For now, I just want to hold her.
Three
Jax
“Your audience with the king appears to have gone well. You are alive and unharmed.”
Tyvian is a master of the obvious. He is also nervous, as well he might be. I have been thinking about all that has happened. The king is not well-informed. The king has no idea who I am at all, and he does not seem to have any understanding of the dynamic between Lyric and Rath. Tyvian has kept some of their secrets, but he does not appear to have kept mine.
I expected far worse from Krush. He took me to a dark place filled with hurt and showed me all he was capable of. Then he did nothing whatsoever to me. He did not lift so much as a scalpel to me. Or a lash. Or any kind of punishment equipment. I saw what Rath did to Lyric when she was displayed. He whipped her with leather lashes. He made her cry out for mercy. He made her scream. Krush has barely made me whimper, and hardly laid a claw on me except to mate with me. I may yet prove to be more fortunate than I deserve to be.
But Tyvian… I think this handsome, red-headed monster of a korabi might be the reason I was captured. Did he choose me to be the scapegoat for all that we have collectively gotten away with?
“No thanks to you.”
Tyvian quirks a fiery brow at me.
“You know who I am. You…”
He claps his hand over my mouth, and by proxy, over most of my face. “Quiet,” he growls in my ear. “They must never know.”
I feel a rush of power. I know something I’m not supposed to know. Telling it would put my family at risk even outside the walls of Megaris, of course, but they have Rath and other korabi to protect them. I am the one in the king’s dungeon awaiting his displeasure. I would never betray them, but Tyvian… he must have been the one who turned me in.
That is the conclusion I have come to. He is the only one still in the city who knew who I was. I was caught so swiftly after Rath and Lyric’s escape, it could only have been him—probably an attempt to distract from the attention which would otherwise have fallen on him.
I am not going to be stupid enough to accuse him outright. That gains me nothing. I am going to keep the knowledge that he betrayed me close to my heart. I am going to let it guide me in every interaction with him.