Page 20 of Bred By Zyros
He’s taken to calling me that lately. I can’t bring myself to ask what it means since my implant supplies nothing. If it’s mean, I’ll only have to be mad at him again and that really tires meout. The Thryss are already lurking just under the surface of the water, waiting for Zyros to leave as he unwraps his tail from my ankle, moving away slower than usual. He’s also…changed a bit. I had assumed his species had a slit, like a pouch, to keep his member in.
It has become more pronounced, bulging in the past week, where the area was nearly flat before. Knowing he desires me, it’s doing something absolutely unreasonable to my body. I pleasure myself nearly nightly now, my core nearly always slick and wanting.
I need to be bred and soon.
I can’t recall ever feeling this way. Of course, my other pairings, with few exceptions, had given me pleasure, but that was after the fact. During, not longing, wanting, desiring before. It seems very unprofessional, a lot like crossing lines.
Soon enough, Zyros slips into the water, and my little dudes pop out, chittering and hissing in his direction to tell him off. I’m organizing my baskets, the thin strap on my shoulder, and chatting to them about something Old Earth used to do called Daylight Savings Time when they suddenly grow quiet before a rise of hisses jerks my attention up. My lips part, my heart shuddering to a stop in my chest as my gaze lands on another familiar-looking Vrircik male, although I can’t place him. His coloring is the exact opposite of Zyros’. Where Zyros is vibrant and shining, this male is endlessly dark. His inky purple-black hair shifts as he regards the Thryss already gearing up to notch their heads back and shoot teeth at the male. Something they have no idea is entirely useless, but I am suddenly so very aware of. It seems less funny now.
I flinch as he raises his hand at me and…waves.
When I don’t return the gesture, his brow furrows, and he tries again. My breath halts in my lungs. The longer he waves, the longer I stay frozen in fear. The memory of the female Vrircikshooting from the wood line at top speed makes my chest tighten uncomfortably. He’s growing agitated, his tongue slipping out to scent the air before he surges forward. I stumble back so far my feet hit the water.
That makes him freeze, where his face was angry, frustrated, and confused before, his eyes widen, hissing something in his native tongue.
I’ve learned over the past few days, it’s not that my translator was having a hard time picking up their language; it’s that it’s not aregisteredlanguage. Which seems obvious in hindsight.
I can’t understand what he’s saying, and he doesn’t seem to have a translator of his own as the female had. It’s more like concepts, pieces of a group of words, and it’ll be that way until it picks up more of the language or gets an update. Seeing as this is a primitive species and no other alien races are supposed to even contact them, that seems unlikely. The Thryss are all but ignored as I wade deeper into the water, which only seems to upset him more.
He doesn’t want me in here.
Why?
Because he knows that’s where Zyros is?
Something shifts behind me, and I don’t dare take my eyes off the large, dark colored male as he hisses and bears his fangs. It’s not until I feel two wet, chilled arms grip me around my waist that I take my first full breath. Zyros holds me like a vice with his upper arms, his lower ones used to brace himself on the rock I’m standing on. Inching just a few notches back, my eyes widen at the sudden drop off I’m on the ledge of. The other male snarls and hisses loudly, puffing his chest in challenge, and oh god, I’m going to throw up. Zyros hisses back, his claws prodding my flesh as his hands snake underneath my clothes. My shock meddles with fear and arousal as he grips me possessively, hiseyes never leaving the other male when he hisses something out in his native tongue.
“Mine.”
Is the only word I catch, my belly fluttering.
The other male seems to disagree, mimicking a wave again. Zyros snarls, gripping me so tightly that I gasp as the end of his tail snaps out in warning. He’s pressed into me, holding me from behind but slightly off to the side, his deadly eyes and teal hair all a beautiful picture of vitriol as he bears his fangs. It’s then I’m reminded of what I truly signed up for. This is not a highly evolved species. They are primitive, even by human standards, and that’s saying something. They were thrust into a world with no understanding and little access by the Intergalactic Alliance, who knows how long ago.
My thoughts halt in my brain as his long-forked tongue snakes out, fluttering against my inner thigh. When it slips underneath the loose seam of my shorts, I whimper.
“My female.” Comes again.
His tongue is testing my inner thighs, tasting the arousal that always seems to build there as he displays this…caveman-ish show of possessiveness.
Ownership.
God, I’ve never been so turned on.
Or terrified.
His tongue is gone all too soon as he rises from the water, lifting me into his arms before passing me into his tail’s coil. They exchanged a few more heated words, and I can tell Zyros is barely keeping it together.
With a gruff hiss, the other Vrircik shoots off, and the sight of Zyros’ heaving back, his ragged hissing breath, is all that fills the muggy, humid air. Even the Thryss dip out as his rage turns on me. “You beckoned another male,” he seethes.
“Huh?”
A scream leaves my throat as I’m slammed into the ground. But no, not the ground, just on top of his tail. My body fitting comfortably on the thick, wide expanse. He’s on top of me in an instant. I gasp as something long, wet, and hot presses from my upper thighs to the bottom of my heaving ribs.
“You want to take another male?”
“What? No!”
I gasp as his hand knots in my hair, forcing my face to his as venom drips from his fangs. “Lying female.” I nearly moan at the tug at the base of my scalp. He’s not himself, enraged yes, but…I don’t feel scared of him. Not like I should be. He shoves his cock against me, and I nearly erupt from the thought alone. “You scent forme. You aremine.”
