Human Pet Prison (Possessive Aliens #7) - Loki Renard Page 0,54

as I did the very first day I lost Ella, not knowing if life had any meaning anymore.

“I’m going to get her back.”

He says it so completely confidently, as if there is not a doubt in his mind that he will prevail. I love that about Warden, more than anything. He has completely unshakeable confidence, a certainty that he will always prevail.

I think that is why he didn’t think twice when he saved me from his brood. He leads them, but he is not afraid to exist without them. I wish I could be even a little bit brave as he is, but grief and loss has taken my bravery, and exposed my bravado and rage for yet more weakness.

He holds me in his arms, and gently strokes my hair back from my head. In this embrace, nothing can hurt me. I am perfectly safe. But I’m not worried for myself. I am worried for my daughter.

“What can I do to make you feel better, human? Do you not trust me?”

“I trust you,” I tell him, clinging to his embrace like a lost soul. “But I don’t trust the universe. Existence has had it in for me since the beginning.”

“The universe doesn’t have it in for people, it is just a series of events and reactions all unfolding one after the other, or sometimes, one before the other. But you should never take it personally. You should grasp what limited control you have and use it for your own purposes.”

I thought I was doing that, once. Now I don’t know what I am doing. Hoping that I can curry favor with forces greater than I.

I sink to my knees in front of him, my gaze full of suggestion. Warden looks down at me, and the corners of his silvery lips curl up in a sharp smile. There is always something in his emerald gaze when he looks at me. I used to not know what it was, but I think I’m starting to realize what it is.

Love.

He loves me, and I love him. His love can change my world, I know that. And I think mine changes his. That’s why his hardness comes bursting forth from its protective sheath, finding my lips.

I suck his cock, pleasuring him with desperate need in the hopes I will lose myself in the haze of his seed. I want more than anything for him to spend himself inside my mouth. I know there’s some risk it will be too much, but I tell myself I’ll only swallow a little. I’ll spit out the rest. I have control.

He holds my head in his massive, clawed hands. The strength of him, knowing that he could crush me if he desired, but that he instead cradles me as his most treasured possession, leaves me in thrall to the thrusting alien passion which fills my desperately hungry mouth. Every other stroke, I think I taste a little of his seed, a few drops of escape in the form of alien come. But he is holding back, I think. He is making me work for my ecstatic oblivion.

I let out a whining, mewling sound, desperate for release I do not deserve. I know he enjoys my mouth, especially when I look up at him from this submissive position on my knees, giving him the satisfaction of being my conqueror.

He leans back, making animal groaning sounds, growls and hisses and smaller grunts which make me hopeful that his cock will soon explode, and take me with it. A few hours of release, that’s all I want, and I will pleasure him eagerly.

I lap at his cock, trace my tongue around the proud flesh at the head of his cock, that thick protrusion which is designed not for his body, but for mine. There is a part of history where his species and mine intertwine. I don’t know how, and I will probably never understand, but I can feel the truth of it, the absolute perfect animal connection which comes from mating with the right male.

But I do not have endless stamina, or endless patience. I want his come. I want to taste it, but no matter how eager I am, or how hard I suck, he retains that powerful liquid inside his body.

“Why won’t you come in my mouth?” Again, I’m whining. I don’t know what it is about our relationship which turns me into this mewling, desperate, supplicant.

He smiles down at me, knowing exactly what I was doing. I