Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ZILARA
Adrenaline races through my veins as I pick myself up out of the dirt and stumble onto my hands and knees. Unlike the last time I fled, this time, a mix of arousal and curiosity spurns me forward. This human seems in earnest, yet I still long to at least attempt to make him work at subduing me.
Bits of dried branches smack my face and exposed parts of my body, but I don’t stop to zip it up. Even now, his harsh breaths pant behind me. So close. Could he grab me even now?
I can’t look behind. Even one moment I’m not propelling forward is another second he gains, another footstep even closer until he catches me. Do I want him to, though?
My base anatomy certainly does. Just the image of him licking off my arousal… it’s too much. It’s all far too much. I’m not used to feeling such strong emotions. I’m not supposed to. Only humans feel these things. Only cows long for the touch of another.
I suppose it’s the perfect debasement then, to let him catch me, to turn me into nothing more than cow adjacent. I cannot give milk, but he’ll make me suffer just the same. Oh, but what delicious suffering.
With each stride forward, more of that pearly fluid gathers between my legs, making me all too aware of how my clit pulses with each guttural sound behind me. He hunts me, stalks me, chases me down like I’m no more than cattle.
Little Icorian, sweetheart, baby. Those tender endearments sear my brain, nearly shorting it out.
Since I’ve grown up, I’ve only been Mistress Rancher, or on the rare occasions I’m home, sister, daughter, and the like.
No warmth, no kinship. Nothing. A cold existence.
One an Icorian should accept and be used to.
Only, out here in the fields, it seems almost absurd to be so cold and distant. Especially when this human makes my heart pound and my soul sing with such small, simple words. It’s a blind spot I didn’t expect, a gaping wound I never prepared for.
Deep in thought, I stumble over an exposed root, something I should have seen, would have accounted for if I weren’t so in my head. Ethan doesn’t hesitate. Grabbing the back of my uniform, he wrenches it backward, pulling it nearly off of me.
I’m too consumed in the chase to stop now. Slipping my arms out of the holes, I drop to my knees and pull forward, urging my legs out. Dirt and rocks scrape against my legs, but I don’t care. All that consumes me is running, fleeing, making this human hunt me down.
The plan works brilliantly until the skin-tight material catches on my boots. Curses fill my brain as I continue to pull forward. I dig my fingers into the dirt to help move me away from my bull, but it’s no use. Ethan’s strong hand clamps down on the back of my neck, holding me in place.
“Are you going to be a good girl for me and submit?”
A good girl? When have I ever been considered good? Honestly, to hear my family speak of me, I’m the very antithesis of the word. As the emotional wound rips open from his words, I do my best to throw him off of me.
“No,” I snarl. “I’ll never submit.”
“Didn’t think you would,” he chuckles as his other hand drifts down my spine. “But you’ve undressed yourself so nicely for me. I can’t imagine why you’d do such a thing if you didn’t want me to take advantage.”
It takes all the strength in me to turn enough to glimpse his smug face. “You wish to converse at a time like this? I don’t understand you humans.”
Again, that decadent sound pours from his lips.
Laughter, deep from the soul. Mirth, a sound I’ve only heard from Ranchers and their ranch hands.
With a light smack of his hands on my upturned backside, he spanks me ever so softly.
It’s not enough to hurt or even sting, yet I feel the strike in my very core.
“It’s called flirting. I guess it’s safe to assume you don’t do that here on Icora?”
“Flirting.” I try the word out in my mouth but find it still doesn’t have a meaning. What good are these damned translators if I still struggle for basic understanding.
“Yes,” he replies as he trails his fingers over my lower lips even as he tightens his grip around the back of my neck with the other. “Flirting is wanting you out loud, with my words and phrasing.”
He pauses a moment before dipping his fingers inside me, just barely, a tease. It’s as if he’s showing me with his hands what his mouth is saying.
“It’s when I touch you like this… soft, slow… just to see you melt for me. It’s the game before the taking, Zilara. The way I show you I want you… without claiming you.”
Another stroke in. Too shallow. Not enough. Not nearly enough. It makes me burn. It makes me want to scream and beg. It fills me yet leaves me hungry, consumed with need, with madness.
“Flirting is the promise. Claiming is the follow-through. But don’t worry, my little Icorian. I plan to claim this pussy. I plan to make it mine. I plan to make you mine.”
As he says the last word, his fingers surge in, hard and rough, claiming, owning, utterly obliterating any rational thought that has a hope of remaining in my head. Unable to control myself, a loud, lurid groan slips from my lips to fill the air.
“That’s right, my little Icorian,” he growls as he pounds into me again. “Let me hear how much you like what I do to you, how you like the way my fingers fill you up. Scream for me, sweetheart. Let me hear what your pussy is already saying. You want this, you crave this, you need my rough touch.”
His fingers slam in, making my toes curl.
“You need the release.”
Again. A touch harder this time.
“You need the peace.”
Once more, he invades me, impales me on his fingers.
“You need the silence.”
Another hard thrust
“You need your brain to just shut the fuck up.”
“H- how do you know these things?” I cry out as my inner walls ripple around his thick fingers. “Are you a mystic on Earth? A clairvoyant?"
“No,” he chuckles in that dark way that makes my gut clench and my pussy spasm.
“It’s because I’m just like you. I need that solitude.
I need that moment where my brain shuts off and I don’t have to think.
No one needs my time or energy. There’s no one demanding anything.
It’s a space of freedom. It’s a moment to just breathe, sink in, and just feel. ”
Just feel. It sounds so wrong yet feels so right. I’ve never had that luxury, and here, Ethan demands it with his expert fingers. With each hard thrust, he pulls something out of my soul, something from the dark, deep recesses of my very being, and brings it into the light.
“On Earth,” he rasps out, “I found it at the bottom of a bottle. I found it in a pill or two. I found it in meaningless sex. Something, anything, to drive reality away.”
His hand loosens from around my neck, allowing me to fully crane around and look at him over my shoulder. Pain and raw need shine in his eyes. It’s etched in the small lines on his face. It’s aching, it’s haunting, it’s a visual representation of everything I’ve kept locked inside.
“Addiction,” I breathe.
“Yes,” he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss the base of my spine. “Addiction.”
“We don’t allow cows or bulls to have illicit substances. We don’t even grow them here on Icora.”
This time, his lopsided grin melts away a small part of the icy wall surrounding my heart. It’s the most vulnerable I’ve seen him, and it makes me want to give him the world.
“I don’t need any substances,” he murmurs as he turns me over onto my back. I just need one thing.”
“What is it?” My very soul clenches at the agonizing need I see in every taut line of his body. What if I can’t give it to him? What if I’m not allowed?
“You, Zilara. I need you.”
My breath stills at his words. The pounding of my heart drowns out everything around me until I’m in this cocoon, wrapped up in an odd warmth from his declaration.
If only it were that easy. I’d give myself to him in a heartbeat. But if this doesn’t work, if I can’t make the farm a reality, then I’ll be forced into the arms and bed of a senator. Icorians don’t share, and especially not with a low-born human bull. He’d be killed for sure.
I study his face as the reality slams into me. “But the council-”
“Fuck the council,” he growls as he crouches down on top of me.
My lips screw up in a frown as I picture the men who sit in that honor. “I’d really rather not, if that’s all the same to you.”
“You Icorians,” he sighs as he swoops down and connects his lips with mine.
My heart flutters at the intimate connection, and I try to pull away, but Ethan is there. It’s as if he anticipates my movements. His hand slides behind my head as he holds me in place and invades my mouth.
Tingles flow through my body as he slips his tongue into my mouth and moves it in and out in an aching mimicry of what his fingers were doing earlier. What I would give to feel them there again. My hips move on their own accord, rising and down as I seek relief to a need I never knew I had before.
Until now, release was a need that was met with precision. There was nothing drawn out. It was all very straightforward. This is messy. This is raw. This is utterly devastating.
Still, he hovers above me, fucking my mouth with his tongue, swallowing every gasp into him as if he owns it, just as he owns me.
As much as I want to keep fighting, I can’t.
He’s right. I need this. I need him to take over and make me feel.
I don’t want to think anymore. I just want to be small, insignificant, without any pressures or demands.
Little Icorian.
For these few precious moments, I just want to be this human bull’s little plaything, his Icorian plaything. I want to be his and his alone.
“Hands above your head, Zilara.”
This time, I don’t even fight him. I can’t. He’s won. Somehow, this model, this inconsequential human, has turned everything I know into something that doesn’t matter.
A hum of satisfaction purrs in the back of my throat as I lift my hands in the air and cross my wrists above my head.
“Don’t move them. If you do, I’ll stop.”
“Stop what?”
His finger rests heavy on my lips. “You don’t have to know everything, sweetheart. Just close your eyes and feel.”
His command feels wrong. It feels nearly impossible. Taking in a deep breath, I do as he orders and close my eyes. Stillness settles heavy on my skin as I strain in the silence to figure out what he’s going to do.
Bugs buzz in the distance. Birds sing out, chirping in the most melodious manner. Theoretically, I knew we possessed such things on Icora, but I don’t think I ever took the time to listen. It’s relaxing in a way, lulling even.
As my body settles into the warm earth, his hands skim my ankles until they rest on my feet so he can unlatch my shoes and take them off.
Without them to impede anything, my uniform is next, leaving me completely naked and vulnerable.
Somehow, in this precious, perfect moment, I find that I actually care.
For the first time, I feel safe, wanted, and desired.
“Spread your legs,” he calls out. “Bring them out as far as they can go. That’s my good girl.” His praise burns my ears even as more arousal gathers at my lower lips. “Ahhh. So you like it when I’m domineering and sweet. Noted.”
Heat tinges my cheeks, but I stay silent. I wait on bated breath to feel what he’ll do next. I don’t want to say the wrong thing or anger him in a way that will make him stop. My soul screams for satisfaction, and I know I’ll only get it on his terms.
His fingers glide over my legs and thighs as he maneuvers me how he wants. Soon, his hands cup under my ass as he eases my legs over his shoulders. Hot breath scalds me as hovers so close to where I want him the most.
Why is he down there? Why does he long to debase me like this? Why can’t he just fuck me like an Icorian and carry on with the rest of his day?
As these questions swirl through my brain, they scatter like chaff on the wind the moment something hot, wet, and firm brushes against my clit. His tongue. It has to be. On instinct, my hands fly down to his head to stop him, to pull him away.
The instant I move, he stops, leaving me bereft.
I hunch up a touch so I can see him. For some reason, the scandalous vision of him between my thighs makes everything clench up with abject need.
My fingers hover inches from his hair, but he doesn’t resume.
He simply blinks up at me from between my thighs.
“What did I say?” His words fairly hum against my sensitive flesh, drawing a groan from my lips.
“I- You can’t. I can’t-”
“What. Did. I. Say?”
The commanding tone in his voice snaps something in me. It’s as if my body no longer belongs to me but to the man servicing me with a desire and reverence that has my thighs shaking. Lying back down, I put my hands above my head and close my eyes.
Ethan doesn’t waste any time. Once I’m back in position, his mouth is back on that most intimate part of me.
He devours me, licking, sucking, kissing, leaving no inch unmolested.
Oh, but celestials, it feels like heaven to have him lick me, to have him pleasure me in a way that only the basest of creatures can experience.
Soft, erotic moans flit past my lips as I lie there, helpless as pure bliss ripples through my body. I’ve had releases before, but nothing like this. The sensations flooding my system leave me twisting and turning in his grip. They make me feral for him, desperate to feel his body join with mine.
“P- please,” I cry out as I clench my fingers in a fist.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he whispers against my heated flesh. “The answer is no. Even though my balls are so fucking full, so fucking tight with the need to be inside you, I’m not going to fuck you until you come on my tongue. I want to taste your orgasm, and I’m not stopping until I do.”