Driok
Icould mate her right here and now. The scent which comes from her is intoxicating, given we’re out of the scent suppression zone. I want to bend her over, slide in the jewel and enjoy all of her little cries as I give her my cock too.
My lips hit hers, her tongue fighting with mine as all around us the jewels hum with our desire, each one picking up and amplifying our pleasure.
The reason a Sarkarnii sleeps with his hoard.
The bot makes a low, grinding sound.
“This is to be charged to the baron’s account,” I growl at it.
“Checking…” The bot flashes a series of lights at me and then after it makes a noise like flatulence. “Confirmed.”
“As much as I want to see this jewel in you right at this very moment, spitfire,” I murmur in her ear, “I also need to get you out of these clothes and into new ones.”
“I told you, I don’t need new clothes,” she says.
“If you are to go to a party with the baron and all his cronies, then you are to look the part.” I shove my face into her hair, my lips on the skin of her neck as her body presses against mine.
“I don’t scrub up well,” Maggie says, a slight strain to her voice.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” I respond.
We exit the jewel vendor and continue around the atrium until I find a clothing vendor I like the look of.
“Here,” I say, making a move for the airlock.
“No,” Maggie replies. “That one.”
She points to a tiny vendor, who has less on display than any of the others.
“Why that one?”
“I have my reasons,” she says with a half smile.
“Are they similar to the reasons you asked for the guards the baron mentioned…the Gryn?”
“Probably. I hate to see anyone repressed. And the way he talked about them…” Her little fists roll into balls. “That isn’t right. So, I saw an opportunity and I took it.”
I shrug. “I don’t disagree, but we won’t be taking them with us. The last thing I need is more creatures to keep alive.”
“I wasn’t going to suggest we recruit them.” Maggie laughs. “I was going to suggest we set them free.”
“You love picking up broken things, don’t you?” I say, thinking about the horc which was presumably starving for attention in our hold until she found it.
“And what does that say about you, Driok?” Maggie replies as she swaggers into the small vendor.
To my surprise, the place is significantly larger on the inside than it is on the outside, and the goods are of a very high quality. The owner, a rotund, blue-skinned female, is all smiles when she sees Maggie, although less so when she sees me.
“My mate requires a new wardrobe,” I growl at her. “For all occasions, heat, cold, and for a gathering this evening with the baron, to whom, incidentally, you will be charging everything.”
The female looks at Maggie who sighs. “Yes, what he said.”
“Then he can leave,” the vendor says.
“I will do no such thing.”
“I have found having a male around is not conducive to a proper fitting,” she says, looking at Maggie. “So, either you go, or I cannot serve your mate.”
“Driok,” Maggie says.
“Yes, my spitfire?”
“Why don’t you fuck off and go pick out your ship?” She smiles sweetly at me.
“I will not leave you.”
“I think you will, if you want me dressed up for the baron.”
Maggie puts her hands on her hips. I know she has the pulsar pistol, but other than that one weapon, she has no way of defending herself. Only me.
However, from the look in her eyes, she isn’t going to take a refusal for an answer, and I doubt very much I’m going to get her out of this vendor without being envenomated.
“I will wait outside.”
“You will do no such thing,” the vendor says. “I do not want a great warrior cluttering up my doorway.”
“I’m sure you have other things you want to purchase, given the baron gave you free rein,” Maggie says. “I’ll be fine here.”
I huff out a hot breath, and there are a couple of sparks.
“Out!” the vendor shouts at me. “Out before you destroy all my stock!” She grabs a long stick with something fuzzy on the end and pokes me with it.
Maggie has dissolved into laughter as I get several more pokes before I step out of the airlock and it closes in my face. The vendor glares at me through the small porthole, and I’m sure I can still hear Maggie laughing.
“I hear you’re in the market for a galaxy class ship,” a voice says from behind me.
I spin on the spot, my shifted tail nearly knocking over the small Paralnyi behind me. It wears a tiny jacket in a brown color, almost matching its fur.
“What would you know about ships?” I snarl at it.
“I know enough.” It inspects its tiny paw. “And I know you don’t want to be going to any other vendors in Xracak City.”
“And why would that be?”
“Because they’re all in the pay of the baron, and whatever you get is unlikely to take you to the nearest moon, let alone where you need to go,” it says. “I’m Crezi.” He looks me up and down. “And you’re a Sarkarnii warlord.”
“Nev off,” I reply.
“How about you see what I have for sale first?”
“I’ve never met a Paralnyi vendor, and I doubt you have anything for sale,” I growl, looking over my shoulder at the airlock again.
Crezi wrinkles his snout, the fur rippling.
“Suit yourself,” he says, walking away from me. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He gets to the end of the passage before I call out.
“Wait.”
The creature stops in his tracks.
“Perhaps we can do a deal, after all.” I grin at him with all of my teeth and get the satisfaction of seeing him shiver, just a little bit.