hand cups one, rolling the nipple. I suppress a moan while my belly grows heavy with…with arousal.
It is wrong. It is wrong, wrong, wrong.
I should not be aroused, for many reasons, the biggest one being that this is a male of a different species applying coercion, using my helpless state for his gain. I shouldn’t like how he kisses me, how he purrs steadily from his chest, making my head fuzzy with wild thoughts of this male fucking me into the ground, pressing me, forcing his way inside me and me liking it all, begging him for more.
He moves back up and kisses my mouth again, and this time I open and receive his tongue. He groans, and I close my eyes because his purr reverberates in my head like a tune I want to sway to.
A hand fists my hair.
I press my palms over his chest, and under them, his muscles move. We kiss with passion, turning our heads, breathing heavily, and I slide my palms down his torso when he thrusts up, effectively positioning his cock between my hands. He tugs my hair back and forces me to look up so I don’t see what he’s doing while looking at me with strange orange behind the white of his eyes. He swipes a finger over his lips, leaving them glistening. Bending, he pecks my mouth, and I taste something sweet and spicy, yet potent and bold, and I think this is his semen. I lick my lips, wanting to taste more.
He moves me farther away and sucks my bottom lip, then slowly, gripping my hair, moves my body to bend toward his middle. His cock is pulsing, pushing out liquid with each pulse. Using his thumb, he picks up some and smears it over my mouth. I taste again, moaning out loud this time. His seed makes my mouth water, my entire body buzzes, and I’m overheated now, almost feverish.
He smirks and tugs the collar, gently guiding me where he wants me. I scoot back as I put him in my mouth and suck. His hand in my hair hurts as he clutches it, sometimes tugging up as I move down and over his length with my mouth. The semen dribbles on my tongue, and I keep swallowing, thinking this is the best thing I’ve tasted on this planet. I hold him with two hands and stroke, milking him, loving how this part of him is rock hard and responsive, spurting seed in my mouth. When I grab his balls and squeeze, the male freezes, and a burst of seed gushes into my mouth, spilling out the sides. He places his one hand over two of mine holding them in place, not letting me stroke.
He jerks my leash, and I sit up, feeling seed running down my chin.
His eyes are a blaze of orange, with tiny vertically slit pupils.
I wipe my mouth, a little apprehensive that he practically stopped me from blowing him all the way. Actually, I’m quite embarrassed, unsure what happens next.
But he’s sure. I barely understand him when he says in a strangled voice, “Good night.” He dresses and leaves the tent.
Chapter Nine
Nar
Drunk on the pleasure she gave me, I didn’t notice that my hunter had risen to the surface until hunger for the female breached my rational brain. I felt the hunter and his strange behavior while I was trying to enjoy the female. He makes me want to either eat her delicate flesh or fuck her, or maybe I want both. In the moment, the two instincts, both primal in nature, are conflicted, and I stepped outside to clear my head.
The hunter eats prey.
The male fucks females.
That’s how it’s always been with my people, or at least that’s what I’ve seen older males do with females when I was younger. Males and females have sex. Hunters hunt. We don’t mix the two, so when my hunter rose up and practically roared in my head, bidding the female a good night seemed appropriate. I would regret eating her. I’d rather breed her.
“Mas,” I hiss into the night, hoping he’s not too far to hear me. When he doesn’t answer, I walk around the tent to check if he’s sleeping and just too lazy to get up. Circling back to the tent’s flap, I call out again.
“Shut up, Ka!” multiple Ra males shout from the tents in the camp closest to us.
I roll my eyes and call out again, a little louder now.
The Ra stir,