Az
“I’m going to fucking kill him.”
Varrex shoves me square in my chest. “No, you are not.”
“Yes, I am, he-”
“I don’t give a flying drak shit what Glex’s firstborn experiment did. He wasn’t in the game. That game should have been your only concern while we’re playing it. And now it’s been shut down early because you couldn’t stay focussed.”
I throw Puff and Lady’s reins into a random locker here in the away team’s changing room. “It was a training game!” I argue. “Meanwhile, that male was up there getting far too close to my-”
My words falter.
“My…”
“Your what?” Varrex demands, standing there with his arms folded. The rest of the team are here, too – all staring at me.
I threw the game. Play had to stop so that the window pane on the Lords’ Gallery could be assessed for safety reasons.
Not my proudest moment.
But what the fuck was I supposed to do?
They looked close enough to kiss.
The thought makes me want to rip my own horns off.
I look Varrex in the eye and jab his chest with a finger.
“She’s mine,” I tell him. “That’s all anybody needs to know.
Anyway, he was in there, smoking moonweed.
I don’t want her getting mixed up in all of that,” I say, turning my back and picking the reins up again, untangling them just for my hands to have something to do.
I can practically hear the collective scoff and imagine a full set of raised brows all aimed at me.
“Uh, I seem to recall a certain princely someone being high off his horns when we stole the Northern Principality welcome sign during off-season,” Ral says, unhelpfully.
“Yeah,” Zevan chimes in. “And wasn’t it you who painted Vex’s drak’s claws neon pink after smoking that strong batch of-”
“Okay, okay,” I swing around to face them, dumping the reins again.
Varrex huffs and points his finger. “I fucking knew that was you,” he mutters, completely unamused. “It took weeks to get that paint off. Weeks. And you really should give that welcome sign back.”
“But Lois is different. She’s beautiful, and soft, and delicate, and-”
“I’m fucking furious, is what I am!”
It was the unmistakable sound of my female as she storms her way into the players’ locker room, leaving her staff member, Zek, standing outside looking worried.
Maybe he’s worried for her. Maybe he’s worried for me.
Either way, she is fucking glorious as she marches in, rage bubbling over in her little human body.
A small, accusatory human finger jabs into my chest. “Did you actually think that little display was a good idea, or has someone hit you on the horns with an idiot stick today?”
Someone – I suspect Zevan – lets out a snort of laughter before choking it back.
I stare down at her, tensing my jaw. Fuck – how did this little human package get even more attractive to me?
“Zyre was on the verge of explaining something to me,” she snaps, fire burning in her eyes.
“Yeah?” I drawl, stepping forward into her space, crowding her until she takes a step back, and then another, backing her up against a closed locker. “Well, maybe I need to explain something to Zyre. Something very important to his life expectancy.”
“Az,” she says, gazing up at me as I lean my forearms over her head, caging her in with my frame.
Her pupils are blown wide, and that little pink tongue comes out to wet her lips.
“I needed to talk to him.” Her tone is less angry now.
And I’m not sure if she realizes, but her soft hand has hooked into the waistband of my pants at my hip as if she wants to pull me closer.
Fuck, she can pull me as close as she likes; it’ll never be enough.
“Get out,” I command, and it takes two seconds of no one moving for me to tear my eyes away from my Lois to issue glares to my teammates.
There’s movement. Rykor and Zevan leave. Varrex follows begrudgingly, leaving me with a disapproving stare. Jorren, Ral, and Thax linger, their eyes bouncing between my female and me. “You okay, little human?” Ral asks, jerking his chin, the other two flanking him with their arms folded.
Lois looks up at me and bites her lip before giving my teammates a small nod of her head.
They leave, seemingly satisfied that she’s happy to be alone with me – a concern that maybe a different male would find offense with, but I know the hearts of my teammates, and the respect they show my Lois is exactly what I would expect of them.
“You too,” I say, knowing that Lois’s comms, DJ, is floating somewhere behind my shoulder. The unit makes a disappointed little noise before exiting the room.
There’s a moment or two where Lois and I just stare at one another, one corner of my mouth turning up into a smile as we both wait to see who is going to make the first move.
Lois gives a little tug on my pants. “You know, you really can’t just demand people leave the room every time you want to fuck me.”
I chuckle. “You vastly underestimate how often I want to fuck you, little Lois.” She rolls her eyes at me, but I continue, reaching forward to tuck a loose curl of hair behind her ear. “Trust me. If that were the case, we would never see another soul.”
Lois shivers under my touch but pulls her hand away from my waistband to fold her arms instead. “I’m here on a mission, Az. I need to talk to other people. I need to talk to Glex and Zyre.”
I lean in closer. “And I need to know that no other male thinks for even a second that he is allowed to touch you, Lois.” Taking her jaw into my hand, I make sure she hears me when I say, “You. Are. Mine.”
My words affect her – I know they do. Her eyes go a little glassy as they drop to my lips. “Oh yeah?” she purrs, her gaze flicking up to meet mine again. “Prove it.”
My cock is so hard right now, I’m surprised I’ve not ripped the seams of my pants.
And yet, somehow my head is clear enough that when I lean in closer, making it seem like I’m going in to take those delicious lips of hers, I keep leaning – off to the side.
Leaning enough that I can reach the tangle of leather reins I’d dumped in the locker before.
Lois’ eyes had closed, believing we were about to kiss. When she opens them again, looking a little confused, I hold up the drak reins. “Hands,” I demand.
“What?”
“Give me. Your hands,” I growl.
She does so, and I waste no time in binding her at the wrists with the soft leather straps.
“Turn around.”
Lois wets her lips again, her cheeks flushing as she does as she’s instructed. Quickly, I throw the bundle of leather over the exposed utility pipes running in and out of the locker room overhead.
Lois makes a squeaking sound as I pull on the reins, hoisting her arms up above her head. Pulling Lois taut enough that she’s on tiptoes where she stands, I swiftly secure the end of the leather on a nearby clothing hook.
Taking a step back, I allow myself a second or two to just admire her – all strung up and completely vulnerable for me.
She fidgets a little – not a lot, her movement constricted by her bindings and position. Her breathing is a giveaway that anticipation is coursing through her beautiful body.
“Az?” she asks, her voice thick with need.
Stepping close behind her, I run a gentle finger up one of her extended arms, right from her shoulder up to her bound wrists. My touch causes a sharp little inhale, and, fuck me, my fangs ache to bind her to me permanently.
Trying to ignore that particular urge, I run my fingers over the soft, worn leather of my drak reins looping around her wrists. “Comfortable?”
Lois’ head falls back against my chest, her eyes looking up at me half-lidded. She nods, biting at her plump bottom lip.
“Good,” I grunt, untying the lacing at her waist. “Do not move unless I instruct you.”
Her skirts drop down her legs in a cascade of silks, revealing powder-blue undergarments. One pluck of the ribbons at her hip has those falling, too, hooking onto her left boot where the ties on the other side remain intact.
And then, I cannot help myself – I have to stand back to admire her again.
This time, in nothing but her stockings, boots, and corset.
That lovely bare rear begging for a bite.
Can mates bond from a venom injection in the ass?
I’ve never thought about it before. It’s always been depicted at the neck – and, as delicious as that prospect would be, I think bonding-by-ass has a high appeal to it.
My eyes drop a little lower. Or thighs. Thighs would be good, too.
Oh, who am I kidding? If Lois asked me to bond her to me via a bite to her fucking nose, I’d still probably cum in my pants.
Giving my head a shake, I try to bring myself back to the here and now. Lois doesn’t want me to bite her anywhere.
But she does want me to show her how she is mine.
I observe her boots – both standing on her toes, one with her undergarments hooked around her foot. Stepping close once more, I shove my own foot between hers and force her feet to part, bit-by-bit nudging them so that she stands there, on the tips of her toes, legs spread for me.
“Good,” I praise, bending a little to reach the back of her thigh with a soft caress of my hand.
That touch travels up, mapping the terrain of the beautiful fullness of her body, enjoying the soft, plump curve of that delicious rear before I plunge my hand between those thighs and groan at what I find there.
“I was willing to prepare you for my cock for hours if you were in need of it, Lois,” I murmur, my fingers finding that sensitive spot she likes for me to rub in circles. “But you’re already a wet little mess down here for me, aren’t you?”
Lois whimpers, her head tilting back against me again. She nods, the leather of the reins around her wrists creaking softly.
“You know why that is, don’t you?” I rasp out, bending to nip at her flimsy lace collar, hooking a fang into the fabric, pulling at it a little, teasing us both. She really should start wearing more robust collars around me, I swear to The Four.
Lois shakes her head.