Page 32 of You're Not My King!

I snorted, the sound enough to break the last of my irritation. “You know exactly what you’re saying, don’t you?” He smirked as if to confirm it. “Filthy bastard.”

Awareness returned, and I noted that there was hardly any space left between us, Voh-ack having gradually inched closer as he spoke. His inhuman body heat engulfed me as his arms would, securing me in place. I swayed forward, my gaze darting from his eyes to his lips and back up again.

His smirk widened, and my belly swooped before I did, diving in to kiss him so hard that his fang pricked my lip. The mild taste of copper trickled into my mouth, but I didn’t stop. I licked through the blood and invaded his mouth without a second thought, my tongue colliding with his as if I’d die if it didn’t. I moaned, and he rumbled deeply, the sound vibrating inside me as he grasped my shirt, dragging me onto his lap. I followed willingly, straddling his thick thighs, too horny to care that my hips were subconsciously grinding, desperate for friction.

Soon, the air filled with groans and grunts as I frantically rutted against the bulge in his pants like a crazed animal, chasing the overdue relief of the tension that had been bubbling under the surface for days. Voh-ack’s hands were cupping my ass, encouraging my movements, letting me take my pleasure and seemingly in awe that I did. He was snarling out words I didn’t understand, but they sounded hot, and with how pent up I was, emotions warring, it took barely a minute for that familiar sensation to coil at the base of my spine.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck.”

“Yes, Cah-ka-rook-uh,” Voh-ack purred, his tone like velvet, wrapping around my cock. “Come for your mate.”

I threw my head back, eyes rolling as my fingers white-knuckled his shoulders and?—

“What’ve you gone and done to yerself now, you silly—Oh.” It was like a bucket of ice being thrown over me, the doc’s voice cutting through the blinding tension building in my stomach, so close to exploding. I’d forgotten Knee-tar had gone to fetch her, and he’d taken his damned time. “I’ll come back.”

Voh-ack growled, glaring daggers at Fiona as I scrambled to my feet, lips spit-slick and chest heaving, ignoring his attempt to tug me back. “No, no, come in,” I said, my voice raspier than I’d have liked. “I’ve done what I can. I’m, um…” I cleared my throat and edged toward the door, pulling at my shirt to hide my rapidly dwindling boner. “Gonna go get some water.”

I scurried from the tent before Voh-ack could do something rash like stride across the room and finish what we’d started. Audience or not, I didn’t think I’d have the willpower to refuse him, but I needed to. Why couldn’t I get that through my thick skull? Why couldn’t my brain get with the program and remember how the last time I’d taken a chance on a guy with zero morals had worked out?

Despite how my body seemed to ache for him, screaming at me to go back and be fucked stupid, to be sure he was whole and safe, I put distance between myself and the hut, forcing myself to be sane and rational—for the sake of my escape plans, if nothing else.

I couldn’t risk getting attached.

I couldn’t risk fucking everything up again.

VO’AK

I fused myself to the warm bundle in my arms, captive to the creamy sweetness filling my nostrils, the promise of pleasure. The fog of sleep lifted gradually, but I clung to its tormenting illusion, following my need blindly. I ground my hips forward, growling as my hard cock rutted against soft, plump mounds, easing the ache.

An adorably familiar grunt had my eyes snapping open.

I flinched, rising from the furs, gritting my fangs to ignore how my hoo-man scrambled to sit, his pretty, bejeweled face laden with alarm. He spoke, but moons above, I could not understand, too hurried in my retreat from his irresistible scent to make any sense of it.I fled the hut, frustrated and on the cusp of spilling in my coverings.

My hoo-man had smelled too good, even in dreaming, had felt too right plastered to my front, in my arms, breathing softly. It was no great secret that I longed to take him again, to breed him until it latched, but watching the little beast wince whenever he sat, the limp as he walked, and how he still faltered in his enthusiasm even when his body keened for me had forced my hand. I had made a promise to Healer Fee-oh-nah not to overwhelm the creature, to fight against impulse, to let him distance himself if needed and only mate whenever he begged without hesitation.

It was no simple feat. Instinct demanded that I mount him over and over, but even though the idea of pinning him to the furs and keeping him aching and satisfied, dripping with seed, appealed greatly, I would not risk damaging or spooking my mate. Restraint was not typically an issue. I was no youngling, so I was content to hold and scent him, to satisfy those base urges, but Roo-bin’s return to the hut after Fee-oh-nah’s interruption had weakened that control. I had sensed my mate’s need, his relief, his spend. Not only had he pleasured himself without my involvement, he had done it outside the confines of our den, where another could have witnessed, and that had driven me to madness.

I growled, marching toward the tree line, tearing at my coverings to lessen the pressure on my cock, exposing the red-hot flesh to the cool breeze. I cared not if my clanmates caught me—they knew better than to disturb a lust-agitated male, especially a mated one. Propping myself against the nearest tree, I palmed my weeping length, snarling at the whisper of pleasure sinking into my core. I craved a fast release, yearning for clarity before I risked something regretful. My mate had fit perfectly underneath me, writhing and strangling my knot, and that memory alone was dangerous.

Matings stretched over days, the need pumping through one’s veins so strong that it required constant nurturing. That was a fact known among my species, but my mate was an Earthling, unaware of such customs and wholly unprepared. His kind did not heal at the rate of Ly’zrd. His small body had to loosen and strain to accommodate my size and match my virility, which took its toll.

For the time being, satisfaction from my own fist would have to suffice, though it paled in comparison.

My ringed fingers gripped tight around the rigid shaft, extracting slick from my gylls as I set a ruthless pace. I could not savor it. Echoes of Roo-bin’s untamed mewls, the lingering scent of his arousal as I had pleased him, the way he had lit with enraged fire at the prospect of my pain, and his slight fingers coaxing me to health spurred my actions. I twisted and stroked the searing skin, spittle flying from my clenched fangs, claws digging into the pliable tree bark.

I was almost relieved that Roo-bin was not around to witness how little time it took for my release to punch through me. He need not see the way my body trembled like a cornered beast, or hear my animalistic grunts of his name—it would not have demonstrated my ample stamina. Mercifully, my knot only expanded in my mate’s presence, so my cock was soft as footfalls advanced from behind.

I cursed my carelessness, but more the complete lack of respect the brazen fool had for my momentary peace.

“Great pity. I could have assisted.”

My back stiffened, though I had known who approached before they spoke. I growled as that sickly sweet voice clawed at my back, peering over my shoulder to confirm it was indeed Ik’lyu who leaned against a nearby tree, a sultry grin on his face.

Moons grant me strength.

“No.” I cared not for my bare form as I straightened to my full height. Ly’zrd had no fixation on modesty. In fact, I puffed out my chest and flexed my assets, tormenting him with what he would not have again.

“Your mate is not pleasing you,” he purred, devious eyes dark as they roved my body, fixing on my cock with a look of longing. “You know I can.”

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