His Human Slave (Zandian Masters 1)

“Good girl.” He forced some control, reached out and caressed her cheek with his thumb. “Lie down on your belly, legs spread wide.”

He helped her into position because her bound wrists made it awkward to lower herself. After he climbed over her, he brushed her hair away from her shoulder and nipped her ear. “You are so vecking beautiful like that.”

She moaned and lifted her ass in the air, offering her dripping pussy to him.

He fit his cock between her parted thighs and shoved in.

Another moan from his slave. Her arousal rate already flashed at ninety percent.

Yes, they were sexually compatible. More than he’d ever dreamed.

He rocked his pelvis, gliding in and out of her, savoring the tight fit and the perfect sight of her pinned beneath him, her wrists bound behind her back, her shimmering hair fanned out beside her.

“So vecking beautiful.”

He shoved in deep and came, only remembering to reach around and diddle her clit at the last minute. It didn’t matter—her muscles squeezed the moment he orgasmed, timed in perfect harmony to his rhythm.

She fit him.

~.~

Zander released her wrist cuffs and kissed the back of her neck before he got up and went to the washtube. A gooey warmth swam through her, not only from the orgasm, but from Zander’s show of affection—the kiss, the muttered words about her beauty.

It made her want to be the best slave possible, to earn more of his approval. If it made her life here easier, was it so wrong to give him what he wanted? A submissive, obedient servant, willing to part her legs any time he demanded it?

Zander emerged, dressed in a finely woven white tunic and pants, with a rainbow-hued mantle over his shoulders.

She leaned up on her elbows and opened her mouth to ask him where he was going, but then closed it again. He would find that too forward.

He hadn’t missed it, though. His understanding of her personality seemed to improve daily. “You may speak.”

A shiver of desire went through her at the words. Why did she like it when he treated her so far beneath him? Did it make her admire him more for his elevated power?

“I was wondering if you’re going somewhere special today?”

“It is visiting day. You will not be permitted from my chamber today because the pod will be full of outsiders.”

She remembered Gunt’s explanation. This was the day Zandians could recharge with the crystal light or visit with Prince Zander. When he left her alone in the room, he locked her in the cage. Her stomach tightened.

“Must I stay in the cage?”

“You must. Go and wash up if you wish first. If you’re a good girl and you go in without protest, I will let you attend the weekly meal with me tonight.”

The promise of any variety to break up her day had her scrambling to be his “good girl.” She jumped into the washtube, dressed, and went into the cage without protest.

“I’ll have your first two meals sent in and the servants will let you out to stretch.” He turned the cage so his face was inches from hers through the bars. He touched her nose. “You please me.”

Three simple words—they filled her with such joy. Veck, she was totally losing it. Wasn’t there an ancient Earth term for this? Oh yes, Stockholm syndrome. She supposed it was a natural human instinct to bond with the person responsible for her survival. But what would her father think? He must be rolling over in his grave right now.

She noticed Zander’s multi-colored mantle shimmered with thousands of tiny crystals woven into the fabric. A gasp left her lips and she propped herself up on one elbow to see better.

Zander fingered the mantle with an apologetic, almost embarrassed expression. “What? The crystals? They are from Zandia.” He lifted the edge and fed it through the cage bars for her to examine. “This was my father’s. Personally, I’d like to forego the throne and royalty thing—skip the adjudication, but my advisors believe it brings our species hope. The elders weep and reach out to touch it. I’m like a relic of what’s been lost.”

She caught her breath, stunned at how much of the real Zander she’d just glimpsed. “It’s beautiful.”

“I think...when my species see the crystals and the colors, it affirms who they remember themselves to be.”

When she brushed the pad of her index finger across a crystal, a wave of power rolled over her. If she had not been lying down, it might have knoc