Warlord's Mercy - Cynthia Sax Page 0,16

more would be his cock. He took one more drink from her pussy and forced himself to stop.

“No.” She whimpered. “Let me come.”

She would come.

When he did.

He grabbed her legs, lifted them, flipped her onto her stomach, raised her to a crouch. Placing his knees between hers, he widened her stance. She murmured words he couldn’t decipher. He ran his hands over her lower back, lush ass.

That part of her belonged to him also. He bit one ass cheek. She jerked under his hands. He bit the other one, marking her, staking his claim on his little female.

That act pleased his savage side. He gripped her hips, found her entrance, and thrust deep. She shrieked, swaying forward. He pulled her back to him, withdrew, and thrust harder.

The pace he set was fierce. He pounded into her snug pussy, giving her everything he had, aware he couldn’t hurt her, his dream female. She could take him. In his fantasies, she matched his strength, pushing back as he pushed forward.

If she was real, their rutting would leave bruises on her skin, but she was a figment of his imagination. She embraced the roughness of his touch, panting, her pussy juices dripping between his balls.

“Yes.” Her cries accompanied his grunts, the smacking of their skin. “Yes.”

He curled her hair around his fists and pulled. Her back arched and her pussy clenched around his shaft. She liked that rough treatment. Too much.

“Zondoo.” He roared, losing control. His base swelled. He surged forward, biting down on the place he’d claimed during the previous rutting, and he found release, coming with a head-spinning intensity.

She screamed. Her inner walls constricted around him and eased, constricted around him and eased, draining him of his seed, his thoughts, his concerns.

Darkness rimmed his vision, threatening to plunge him into the abyss. He folded his body over hers. His cock was lodged in her pussy. If she was his gerel in truth, they would be joined for many more moments.

He didn’t know how long they’d remain locked in his dream.

Seeking to be comfortable during the wait, he leaned farther and farther to the right, shifting his little female until they both lay on their sides.

She sighed. The sound contained contentment, and it shouldn’t have. He had used her harshly. Her hands and knees must have been rubbed raw.

But that would be in reality, and they were currently living inside his fantasy. He wrapped his arms around his temporary gerel, rested his chin on the top of her head.

A sense of connection, of belonging, swirled around them, binding him to her emotionally as well as physically. He didn’t know why his imagination was torturing him like this, showing him what he could never have—Lea, a permanent, destined link with her, with any female, a possibility of children.

A home.

His lips flattened. It was cruel.

“You’re healing…slowly.” She covered his hands with hers. The skin on her palms and fingertips was intriguingly rough, contrasting acutely with the softness of her form. “You didn’t pass out immediately this time.”

He scowled into the darkness. His subconscious was determined to humiliate him also. He was a Warlord—a Chamele clone with enhanced strength, speed, senses—one of the best warriors in the universe.

Warlords didn’t pass out. They weren’t weak.

“I suspect, in a planet rotation, you’ll be fully recovered.” His female sighed. “I hope you don’t regret what we’ve done.” She pulled on his hands, tightening his hold on her. “But if you do, I’ll bear the full blame for it. I may be small, but I can handle it.”

Her voice lilted with humor.

She could handle anything he gave her. He had foolishly believed one rutting would cure his obsession with her.

Tolui had severely underestimated his dream female.

He had taken her twice. His cock was inside her pussy. The tantalizing taste of her lingered in his mouth. She smelled of his cum.

Yet he wanted her again…still.

He couldn’t sleep forever, would have to wake soon. His eyelids lowered. There was a war to win, planets to claim for his brethren, to rule.

His fascination with Lea had to end.

She was too small, too fragile, to accommodate his size, to take his rough handling in reality. He drew the fantasy version of her closer to him, folding his form protectively around hers. She would never be his.

He had to let the dream of her go.

Chapter Five

The Warlord drifted in and out of consciousness for two full planet rotations. When Tolui was able to respond, Lea fed him a mix of water and greens. As

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