Chapter 4 #3
Rone remained in the entertainment establishment for a while longer for show.
After downing another drink, one that was more to his liking this time, he casually made his way back to his quarters.
He kept his guard up, even though he didn’t think anyone remained on the station who would wish him harm.
Arpell hadn’t struck him as the kind of male to have loyal friends who would avenge his death.
It paid to be cautious, however, so he approached every lift and turned every corner expecting another ambush.
None came. He supposed that was a good thing.
It meant that regardless of whether anyone mourned the loss of any of the males he’d killed, Rone had gained the type of reputation that gave one pause about engaging him.
Yes, killing four males in the space of mere moments, one with his bare hands, would certainly elevate one into the category of someone not to be fucked with.
He almost regretted his uneventful journey back.
His fingers still curled and itched with the desire to find another target.
He told himself it was due to the remnants of adrenaline coursing through his body and not because he still seethed from the memories of his pet’s injuries.
Of course, it was all biological. That’s what drove the erection pressing against his leathers, aching for release.
The fact that it punched up even more as the doors to his quarters loomed up in his vision didn’t mean anything in particular.
Nor was it the least bit relevant that a surge of lust rose at the sight of the human curled up on his side, that small, firm ass offered up for his consumption.
Rone had to plant his feet just inside the room and force a deep breath into his lungs.
A low chittering sound caught his attention, and he scowled down at Preen.
“Leave him be. He’s finally sleeping peacefully.”
Rone’s scowl deepened at the admonition.
“What kind of monster do you think I am?” His companion didn’t answer.
It merely gave Rone the kind of look that Rone had come to realize conveyed skepticism.
It made him bristle even more. “I know the boy heals still. I merely came back to sleep before meeting up with K-Zet again.” There…
That shifted Preen’s attention back to where it belonged.
“Scale Face sought you out?”
“Yes, and he’s going to broker a meeting with me and what I hope is someone higher up in the arms shipping than Arpell.” There was little point in admitting to how he and K-Zet had actually reconnected.
“Excellent.” Preen’s eyes widened in excitement. “I’ll go now to sleep myself, then.”
“Good. Thank you for watching over him.” Preen waved away the appreciation as if the care-taking had been a given and headed to its own room.
Rone stopped it. “Preen?” he whispered. When his friend looked over its shoulder, Rone said, “Thank you also for trying to protect him from Arpell. You did so at great peril to yourself.”
“I protect what’s mine.”
The odd statement caught Rone by surprise.
Normally, he and Preen understood each other very well—amazingly well, actually, given how different their species were and the great difference in their spoken language.
Although he didn’t really think of Preen as his pet, he did think of Preen as being just like all other species in the known universe—inferior to Travians, if not intellectually, at least physically and in technological advancements.
And, while he valued having Preen by his side while he conducted his mission, he still thought of Preen as his aide, not his equal.
He wasn’t so sure now that his viewpoint was either fair or valid.
Twice, once on Travia Prime when Bettna had tried to kill Mac, then here with Frey, the small creature had risked its own life to save another—and a human at that, one of the weakest and least advanced species Travians had encountered.
For Preen, though, the boys had had importance, enough to defend them bodily.
It made Rone wonder what Preen’s species was really like. He had no real knowledge of it at all.
With a shake of his head, he started undressing.
It hardly mattered at the moment. He couldn’t afford to muse away what little time he had to sleep before meeting up with K-Zet again and, Mother willing, an arms dealer that would lead him where he needed to go.
He stripped down quickly. His cock let out a sigh of relief as it sprang from its confines and started leaking cum immediately at the prospect of been slid into something tight and warm.
Not being a big-brained creature, it didn’t yet know that it was destined for disappointment.
Rone wasn’t a monster, as he’d insisted to Preen.
He had enough compassion and self-control to not drill his dick into his pet’s ass while the poor boy slept off his injury.
Rone would only peel back the cover that was no longer necessary with Rone’s body heat joining the human, then lay down behind him and gather him up.
Yes, like that. Frey jerked at the touch and whimpered in his sleep.
Rone ran a soothing hand down the back of the boy’s head and shushed him quietly.
It worked, surprisingly. His pet relaxed again and allowed himself to be pulled into Rone’s loose embrace.
Rone’s dick still had stupid ideas of what would happen next.
It leaked copiously, soaking the bedding and the seat of Frey’s pants.
While Rone would have loved to slide the fabric down to expose the supple skin beneath it, he knew better.
That effort would likely wake his pet and make him think that Rone intended to fuck him after all.
Rone would have to ensure that the clothing got cleaned before they ventured out later—or not.
Letting his pet wander through the station in cum-smelling clothes would work well to reassert his marking.
He ran his fingers down the pretty white hair once more, this time purely for his own pleasure.
He frowned at the tangled strands and loosened ribbon.
The fight with Arpell had left Rone’s carefully crafted braids in terrible disarray.
He’d have to rectify that when they woke up.
Sensing his ire rising again, Rone beat it back down and forced his muscles to unknot, bit by bit, until he felt he’d be able to sleep.
Adjusting his arm a little more firmly around his pet’s waist, he did just that.
When he woke with a bit of a start, Rone found himself lying on his back and not curled around his pet’s body.
Before he even managed to open his eyes, however, he became aware of a soft lapping around the root of his cock.
His nostrils flared with his pet’s sweet scent, and his sides itched with the tickling of something swishing against them.
Hair. Frey’s hair and his small tongue were what he felt swirling around his balls, up his shaft.
Around the exposed head of his dick, his foreskin having been spread taut by the coursing blood.
He sighed and arched into the touch without thought.
A full-throttled groan escaped when Frey stretched his lips wide over that same head and swallowed a healthy portion of the rod down into tight, moist heat.
“Fuck!” Rone arched again, then immediately pushed his hips back down so as not to gag his pet. The unexpected and voluntary blow job wasn’t something to exploit, only savor.
Rone forced his eyelids open a fraction to see as much as feel.
And yes, there was that amazingly white-haired head bobbing up and down on his cock.
One small hand encircled its base, stroking in time to the sucks and laving, while the other propped the boy up between Rone’s spread legs.
With the spikes of pleasure shooting through him, it took a moment for his brain to register that his pet had removed the dressing on his broken arm.
It had obviously healed, and the boy was no longer in any pain—or at least Rone assumed so, given the activity.
Frey pulled his head back until only the very tip of Rone’s dick remained inside his mouth.
He glanced up at Rone through his lashes, giving Rone a flash of uncertainty.
Or maybe he misread the human’s brief expression.
Regardless, he wanted to reassure his pet that his initiative was appreciated.
Placing his palm on top of Frey’s head, he moaned and humped shallowly past the boy’s lips.
His efforts paid off when his pet increased his speed, taking him in deeper again and sucking hard.
Frey moved his hand to roll Rone’s balls in his grasp.
The added attention goosed Rone’s arousal to the point where he knew that if he didn’t rein himself in, he’d shoot too soon.
He wanted to make this unexpected pleasure last. The previous blow job he’d forced his pet to give had been an exercise in control, a calculated move to impress K-Zet with Rone’s dominion over his pet.