Chapter 10 #2
Though fear coursed through her, there was a twinge of something else as well. Something she didn’t want to think about. Something that had started when he’d irreversibly punished a man for touching her—and kissed her afterward—and built all day as she browsed through the steamy holonovels.
That familiar tension filled the air between them as Screl towered over her, eyeing her with an ever-present curiosity. His shoulders slumped, like he was exhausted from something.
Lena didn’t know if he had slept, if Threns even needed to sleep. She jumped slightly when he moved, but relaxed as he cupped her face with his large hand.
“You are mine, Lena,” he said, as if to explain his actions, to explain everything.
She let out a whimper, though not only from fear. She was desperate for his touch, a deep longing warming her body. Screl tangled his tentacles around her, and she trembled, the seed of pleasure growing.
“Do you want me to stay?” he asked, that gravelly voice sending a shiver down her spine.
Why did she want to say ‘yes’? The word danced on the tip of her tongue, but it was the truth. She needed those tongues on hers once more, those warm tentacles caressing her bare body. Still, she resisted. There was no way to know what accepting an invitation like that could lead to.
But maybe that’s what he wanted? For her to resist, just so he could take her by force like all the heroes in the alien erotica stories. The thought frightened her—and aroused her—a sick tension twisting in her stomach. She cursed whatever he had injected her with which forced her to feel this way.
“No,” she said clearly, though the word pained her.
God, she wanted to be fully immersed in him, wrapped up in those tentacles, seeing what was under the casual clothes he always wore.
Lena heard a low grumble from his chest as he grasped handfuls of her skirt.
He slowly pulled upwards on the gauzy material, while simultaneously holding her arms above her head with a tentacle.
A stifled moan threatened to spill from her lips, the humid air hugging her bare body as he stripped her.
Screl dropped the dress on the ground, restraining her wrists with one large hand. She watched him like a hawk as his eyes roved across her body, passing over the stretch marks on her thighs.
“Are you certain?” he breathed, moving his face close to hers.
They could cut the tension in the air with a knife, but she was strangely comfortable standing completely bare before him. She tried to free her hands, but he held firm.
“Yes.”
With a growling noise, he stepped back, giving her fiery hair a caress. After one last look, he moved toward the exit. With the press of an invisible button, the door whooshed open and Screl paused.
“Good night, my pet.”
A moment later, he was gone.
She let out a deep sigh, breathing slowly to calm herself. A chill ran down her spine despite the humidity of the room, and she scrambled to her neatly made bed.
Lena lay on her back and brought the sheet over her chest, continuing to take deep breaths in and out, unable to shake the seed of pleasure that was building. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will it away.
Why the hell was she feeling this way about a monstrous male like Screl?
Before she could think twice, she pressed a hand between her legs, sliding her fingers through the slick wetness at the apex of her thighs. Her body flooded with pleasure, a low moan on her lips as she imagined Screl undressing her like he had just a moment ago.
The sensation of his tentacles as they brushed over her skin, the way his eyes glimmered as he examined her.
She pictured him dragging her to the bed, forcing her onto her back and spreading her legs wide.
His tentacles brushing over her entrance before filling her cunt like her fingers were currently doing, fucking her until she begged him to stop.
Another moan escaped her as she tried to think of something else, anything else, her body reaching for climax, but all she saw was Screl.
Lena circled her clit rhythmically, each movement bringing her closer and closer to release. She pushed past her confused thoughts as her breaths grew heavy, quiet whimpers rumbling in her throat.
Unbidden images flooded her mind of Screl punishing the men she knew from Earth, the ones from the bar who thought being a customer meant they had free access to touch and grab her, and then laugh about it with their friends afterward.
Greg was the worst of the bunch with the way he had cornered her after the bar had closed one night and pressed kisses to her neck, begging to fuck her and calling her an old bitch when she denied him. Maybe he needed a reminder of what happened to people who touched what didn’t belong to them.
The terrible thoughts made the waves of pleasure come over her quicker than she expected, an explosion of white light dotting her eyes as her whole body pulsated with release.
“Screl,” she moaned, her captor, her savior, the one who would protect her.
Oh, it was glorious, the grand finale after the horror of the day, and she reveled in the aftershocks, finally slowing her fingers to a stop as her breathing returned to normal.
Shame filled her as she closed her eyes, trying to focus on the deep exhaustion washing over her and not the disgraceful thoughts of her violent abductor still whirling through her mind.