Page 47 of Stolen Slave

Although, all of that might have been the mellow from the recent orgasm talking.

As soon as the bowl dispensed from the machine, I stole it from him and hurried to the table. I didn’t sit, though. If having me on his lap made him feel better, I’d do that. But I turned the chair so he wouldn’t have to swing his legs under the table and risk bumping the side of his leg.

“Have a seat, Khorahn.”

He smiled and lowered himself to the chair. I sat, juggling the spoon and the bowl as I carefully lifted and hooked my leg just outside his knee, away from the cut.

The spoon fell from my grasp, and I set the bowl on the table with one hand while bending forward to grab the spoon from the spotless floor.

My fingers had barely closed over the utensil when a hand landed on the middle of my back. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized what kind of view I was giving him. With my legs spread this wide and bent over so my head was well below my knees, he had a view of everything.

I tried to straighten, but he held firm with that hand and stroked my hip with the other while murmuring low words I couldn’t understand.

“Uh, my face is prettier,” I stammered.

The fingers trailed around my hip, skimming my rounded cheek. My face heated, and my pulse doubled its speed at the direction of his continued path. His fingers followed the valley of my ass, lightly passing over my puckered ring on the way to my clit. My breath whooshed out of me when he circled that stiff, sensitized nub. Three times. Then, he trailed his fingers back again. He paused at my entrance, stroking over it and pressing into its wetness just enough to lubricate his fingertips before circling the opening. Four times.

I swallowed hard, no longer sure if my heart was beating loudly in my ears because of the position or because of where he was headed.

His hand disappeared just before reaching my backdoor. I breathed a silent sigh of relief and tried to straighten. However, his hand remained locked on my back.

He said something, and several dollops of not-cleanser hit me in the bullseye. A little yip escaped me at the same time I felt my hole pucker harder in response to the sensation. My core echoed its sentiment with a secondary clench immediately after.

Khorahn firmly pressed his palm against my crease, putting more pressure over the area than ever before. Then he started to move. Small, steady circles that kindled a growing ache for more. When the pressure eased, and a finger gently circled that crinkle of skin, I shivered. The second time around, I clenched. The third, I tried to sit up. The fourth time, I simply moaned. And on the fifth, I almost told him to keep going.

He removed his touch without a word.

Panting, I hung limply, folded in half over his knees.

It took me a minute to let go of his ankles, grab the spoon, and sit up.

Instead of eating and pretending like nothing had happened, I twisted back to look at him and caught him in the act of licking his fingers. I wasn’t repulsed. With the freaky toilet and his alien washing, I knew I was clean.

Rather than revulsion, I was so turned on that I wanted to bend over and beg him to do it again.

“I’m in so much trouble.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

VYA

Khorahn grinned at me then pivoted on his seat so we faced my bowl. Hunger forgotten, I stared blankly at the grey oatmeal. I could still feel his fingers touching me. There. I shivered at the echo of sensation.

Oblivious to my inner turmoil, Khorahn coaxed my fingers around the spoon at the same time he stroked a hand down my back. Every time he got to my tailbone, I involuntarily arched. Just a little, but the movement was still there. I felt like a damn cat in heat.

What was going on with me? I didn’t act like this. Yet, I couldn’t let go of that moment of terror when he’d jumped off the ship. The frantic “Don’t leave me” thought had been followed by all the moments where he touched me and carried me and cared for me. Not of the food or the safety he provided but him. Just him.

He might be the one doing all the touching, but I understood now that I was definitely the one obsessed.

Sure, I knew aliens wanted females. I’d known that since the first newscast. But until this very moment, I’d never stopped to ask myself if I wanted Khorahn to want me in that way. Probably because, before now, the answer had been an emphatic no. Now, I wasn’t as sure.

It took some coaxing to get me to eat. But he eventually got me there.

After I pushed the bowl away, he stood with me, carrying me again, and strode from the kitchen without cleaning up. I looked at the bowl over his shoulder then up at the clenched line of his jaw.

With a light touch, I traced my finger along the tense ridge.

“What am I to you? A puppy? A plaything? I really wish I knew.”

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