Page 23 of You're Not My King!

The hoo-man faltered, his mouth opening and closing. There was a long silence, his breaths settling, so I thought the meaning had sunk in, but after another moment, he huffed and sagged into the furs. Defeated. “I doe-nnt understand.”

An unfamiliar sense of pity fell heavy in my gut. It was not his fault, and I had not the means to explain or placate him. Healer Fee-oh-nah could, but my mate was shy, and the thought of overwhelming him any more in ways that were not pleasurable made my fangs itch. It was my responsibility to ease his distress, and I would. With such a successful mating, my knot would take time to deflate. I could not control it, but I could divert his attention—or, at least, use the occurrence to my advantage.

Keeping Roo-bin trapped beneath me since he did not seem to mind, I leaned in, raking my lips across his cheekbone, and asked, “Hurt?”

“No, just…” He struggled again, but instantly stiffened, making a flustered sound in his throat that tapered into a wispy moan. His scent deepened. “Wee-rrd.”

“But… pleasing?” I rasped, flicking out my tongue to lave the shell of his ear. The creature had calmed, his hole adjusting to my extra girth, so I ground down, forcing pressure onto that sensitive place inside. He jerked and groaned loudly.

“Yes.” He sighed, adding an almost reluctant, “Pleasing.”

I grinned slyly at that and kept going, prolonging my own release, filling my mate to the brim as the wanton thing mewled, strangling my knot like he was afraid it would escape. The hoo-man spilled twice more, the pleasure tearing out of him. He thrashed and clawed, crying for mercy as if the sensations both pained and satisfied him before slumping, spent and limp, onto the pelts. It was heady witnessing him shatter, being the cause, and I longed to do it over and over to prove my virility. But the feeble little thing lacked the stamina of my own kind. It was to be expected of one so small, but disappointing nonetheless.

I would train him, if he welcomed my touch again.

I shifted our joined bodies into a more comfortable position, shuffling carefully so I would not cause any more pain to the hoo-man’s swollen rim. I bracketed him from behind, looping my arms around his chest for protection while we lay vulnerable. His eyelids drooped, sleep luring him out of reach. His breathing leveled, serene and steady, and I could not resist the chance to study him properly, undisturbed.

It was a peculiar beauty that my little hoo-man possessed—very sharp and severe. Black and white. There were no similarities between us, except for our matching number of arms and legs. He had no tail, no spykes. His mane was cut, his teeth chiseled square, and he had smaller ears, a redundant yet adorable nose, and rounded pupils that could not be of any use in the dark. It made him interesting, kept me wanting. I petted his hair, threading my fingers through the soft strands, gentler than I had ever been with another or ever thought I could be. I had never felt the urge to treat anything as if it were breakable. Never needed to. But now…

The hoo-man stirred, nestling closer in his half-sleep. “Yew-ur still inside?”

Inside… Was he referring to my cock? “Where it belongs, yes,” I answered. “Rest now.”

The hoo-man did as commanded, drifting off as if all he had needed was permission. His lips parted, raw and drool-slick, and my own mouth tingled with the memory of their softness. I was not ignorant to the coupling of mouths, but had never felt an urge to try it for myself. That had changed. I now wished to do it often, as well as swallow the hoo-man’s cock like he had mine. Perhaps he would be amenable to my tongue invading his pretty pink hole, too—to taste every part that belonged to me.

Fingers flexing, I splayed a hand on Roo-bin’s belly, trying to divert my thoughts, but instead, the slight bulge under my palm made me groan. How could one creature, even in sleep, be so tempting? He made it difficult not to act, and despite my valiant attempts, my cock twitched, smug with the knowledge that it was my cum and my knot that had him so stuffed and round. I could easily have hardened again, rutted against him, and added another load of my essence, but I would not. I had promised the healer I would be easy with him, and besides, he deserved to sleep in peace, allowed the chance to recover.

Roo-bin had endured many changes, and there was no doubt that they had startled him. I had not forgotten his reluctance in the beginning, his wet eyes and shallow breath. The distant fear that had shadowed his face. I already sensed that he had known terror, and even misery in his past life. The healed welts across his back. The red specks in the creases of his elbows and groin. I did not know their origin, and I had no power over whoever had already inflicted such pain, but as long as my mate stood beside me, I swore that I would do everything I could to prevent any creature alive from hurting him again. He was mine. In every sense of the word. Mine to take, mine to mark, mine to possess.

Mine to protect.

I held him tighter, my thudding heart drowning out the soft hum of his snores.

Mine to cherish.

REUBEN

It had been three days since I’d mated the Lizard King, and my ass still ached. Whatever bullshit plan I’d thought up that night—just make the most of it, Roo. Be his horny little wife and spread your legs like a good boy, Roo—forget it all. It had been a one-time thing, a toe-dip into the alien-dick pool, and no way was I taking that bulb in my hole again. No. Fucking. Way.

Well, maybe eventually. But not until I could sit without wincing, at the very least.

Currently, that was the extent of my complaints. Life among the lizard aliens was fine. I hadn’t been beaten, I was fed regularly, treated fairly, and I was actually sleeping a little better, which was a strange sensation. I’d had no nightmares since being here, nor had I woken up in a cold sweat, so it was progress. I guessed having someone next to me, plastered to my back like an octopus all night, wasn’t unpleasant.

Going home was still a hope fizzling away on the back burner, though. Despite the tolerable living conditions—I’d bunked in way worse—I didn’t belong on planet U’suhk, nor did I want to belong here, and while it would suit my character to accept becoming a pet, I couldn’t. For one, the whole lack-of-freedom thing gave me the major ick, so it was the principle. It didn’t matter that there was no collar around my neck, I was still trapped, and that just made me want to leave more, y’know?

This place was also new and unknown. I only knew the surface of what my future held among the aliens, but I had a pretty vivid idea of how my life would pan out on Earth, and while not particularly exciting, it was familiar. Familiarity was a little safer. I could heal on Earth. I could make amends with my family as I’d set out to do the night I was taken, and not have to live in a constant state of unrest or guilt anymore. Regrets didn’t make particularly fun life partners.

Granted, I’d probably screwed myself over by not attempting anything serious before now—it had been a whole month since I was taken—but motivation was a rarity for me, so I had to make do. In fact, it could actually work in my favor. With the lack of technology, this place could be a much easier prison to escape. It’d be like shoplifting in a supermarket with no CCTV.

Not that I had experience of that.

All the stores had cameras nowadays.

Trying to escape right now would be pointless and stupid, though, not to mention kinda predictable. I was also unsure of what the consequences would be if I got caught. Sure, Voh-ack had treated me with some care on our ‘wedding’ night, and in the heat of the moment, I had thought about being fucked by him on the reg, but one night of mind-blowing orgasms didn’t erase my distrust. Not totally. He was a leader, used to getting everything he wanted, and I’d already had a taste of his species’ old-fashioned ideals, so who knew what his take on marital discipline would be?

I could admit that something felt different with him already—calm and familiar, like I’d known him longer than three days—but that had to be all in my head, right? Yeah, he’d been inside me, but he was still technically a stranger, and how could I be certain from that one encounter that he wouldn’t go batshit if I tried to leave him? Those charming smirks and careful touches could have been a mask. A ruse to get me on his side and keep me agreeable. I’d been duped before, and like hell would I let myself so quickly be lured in by a handsome face and honeyed words again.

Not after everything it had cost me.

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