Page 28 of Milking His Lass

Though I know the attendants are clinical in their performance, I cannot help the flash of jealousy that spears through me. Grabbing Fiona by the arms, I pull her close to me. “How did they touch you? Was it like this?” I cup her breast, nearly moaning at the feel of her soft skin beneath my fingers.

“No, Master.” Her voice is harsh with need as she leans into my touch. “It was far more detached. More like an examination.”

“I see. And what about this? Did they touch you like this?” I lower my hand to slide against her pussy lips. “Celestials, but you’re soaking wet. Did you get wet for them too?”

“I- I cannot say, Master,” she moans, grinding against my fingers. “I was too delirious and trying to figure out if this was a hoax or not. But they didn’t turn me on, if that’s what you’re asking. Not like you.”

I straighten my shoulders, a smile hovering on my lips. It’s not in my nature to preen, but knowing she prefers my touch to theirs makes my stomach clench and my mouth water with need. If only it were closer to dinnertime.

The need to taste her milk thrums through me with every pulse of my heartbeat. If I drank from her now, there won’t be enough to serve the others. As much as I wish to indulge myself, the needs of the many will always outweigh the needs of me.

Pulling myself away, I lead her over to a side wall. “I have much I wish to do to you before dinner. Best you go to the bathroom so I can pleasure myself with your body.”

“About that,” she hedges, running her hands over her breasts. “I was hoping we could make a deal?”

Again, I cross my arms and stare her down. The nerve of this human to think she has any say in what happens to her. However, since I must be obviously high on whatever hormone bonds Icorians to their cows, I decide to entertain it.

“I will humor you. What is it you want?”

“Well… I know we can’t have meat.”

“Out of the question. Nothing you do or say will have me break that rule. It is forbidden on Icora.”

“Then you’re in luck,” she quips, her face brightening. “I’m not looking for you to slip me meat on the side. That is, unless it’s your meat.”

When she bats her eyes at me, I find myself even more confused. “I just said you will not receive any meat. Not mine, not Vrokjan’s, nor any of the Ranch Hands. It’s not as if meat is rationed out and no one will miss it. I’ll know with just one taste of your milk. Everyone will know.”

Her burst of laughter grates on my nerves. It’s as if I’m some joke to her. “You will cease this sound,” I growl, sliding my hand around her throat. “I have been lenient with you. Far too lenient. If you think-”

“No, Master,” she wheezes out, tears of mirth wetting her eyes. “You misunderstand!”

I release her and step away, giving her space to explain. “Then make it clear and make it fast. My patience is wearing thin, and my cock yearns for your mouth. The longer this takes, the rougher it will be for you.”

“On Earth,” she chuckles, “Meat can be slang for cock. So no, I’m not asking for illicit meat, but I’m certainly open to having your dick.”

“Good,” I growl. “Because your timeline to me shoving it into your mouth draws nigh.” Shaking my head, I allow a small bark of laughter. “You humans and your turn of phrases. Even with the translator in place, I feel as if I have no hope to ever fully understand your species. Now tell me, sweet cow. What is it you want?”

Chapter 13

Fiona

I gaze into his blue eyes as I run my fingers over my throat. He meant to intimidate me. That much is obvious. All it does is make me burn even hotter. My words falter as I try to grab them again.

Now that our witty banter is over, and he’s looking at me with such intensity, I find myself at a loss as to what to say. Is coffee worth the potential loss of the heat of his touch?

Though, surely, such a simple request shouldn’t warrant such an outburst. It’s not meat, at least. His boss said nothing about coffee. I snake my tongue out to wet my bottom lip, my pulse pounding in my ears.

It’s not just nervousness. No. It’s something else. It’s the pure, unadulterated need running through my veins that makes my limbs quake like a fawn on ice.

He slides in closer, his hands skimming my ribcage. Again, just like clockwork, my heart picks up speed. With a smirk that turns my knees to jelly, he leans in and runs his lips over mine.

A kiss.

A simple kiss.

Chaste at that, considering everything else we’ve done thus far. It’s brief, quick, almost a peck, but not quite. It leaves me wanting more, longing for a deeper, far more ferocious touch. Pulling back, he winks, as if he knows the effect he has on me.

Hell, he doesn’t have to be psychic to know that. Even now, arousal trickles down my inner thigh in shameful rivulets. I duck my head as heat fans over my face, but he doesn’t allow me to escape.

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