Page 111 of M!lked For His Pleasure

"Where—"

"Ah, you're awake," a smooth voice said. The richness of the voice sent a shiver down my spine.

I sat up slowly and looked down at my body. I'd been washed—I could smell the difference between the generic soap that the aliens on the station gave me to wash with and the delicate fragrance of whatever had been used to wash me... I was dressed in a gossamer gown that barely covered my enormous breasts, and I was naked underneath it.

The translucent material was so fine that it shimmered in the soft light that spilled through the windows behind me.

Windows...

I dared to glance over my shoulder and bit back a gasp of surprise as I took in the view... a sun that I could only compare to things I'd seen in science textbooks when I was a teenager.

What the fuck...

I looked down at my breasts again. They were so heavy, and ached with every movement. Golden caps joined by a slender chain had been fitted over my aching nipples and I swallowed hard and had to stop myself from pressing my fingers against them.

My mouth was dry and my skin prickled with strange sensations.

The room smelled, strangely, like the incense I used to burn in my apartment, and the expensive candles that my sister used to buy me for my birthday every year.

My favorite scent.

Tears pricked my eyelashes at the sudden memory.

I knew that I would never see her again.

I'd never?—

My vision cleared and I finally saw the being who had spoken.

A gorgeous alien with emerald green skin lounged in a cushioned chair beside a pond covered in flowers I didn't recognize.

Luxury.

Like the pictures of a resort in Bali I'd cut out of a travel magazine and pasted to my dream board every year. I'd lusted over those images for six years before I finally admitted that those kinds of things would always be out of my reach.

I didn't need anyone to tell me that I was most definitely not on the space station anymore. I didn't even know how much time had passed since I'd been taken... But I'd definitely passed out, and I had most certainly been washed, dressed, and—I pressed my thighs together and my cheeks burned as I realized I'd been waxed bare.

The alien who sat across the room from me was beautiful, with high cheekbones and curling black hair that barely hid the curved horns on his head.

I recognized him. I knew that much.

He was the one who had tasted my milk—the one who had been watching me on the cameras in my room.

He held a martini glass in one elegant long-fingered hand and I recoiled slightly to see that it was filled with a milky liquid that could only be one thing?—

I'd been milked enough to know what happened to the substance that was pulled from my body.

I was a commodity.

A vessel.

A hucow.

The Oria Corporation had done this to me. And to countless other women.

I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek as I dragged my eyes from his gorgeous form and tried to focus on the room. Everything was made of natural looking materials. The furniture was made of dark wood, and even the floor was paved in stone. There was no metal that I could see, or anything that would give any indication that I was on a ship, or anywhere that wasn't... a home. There were even plants in the room. I longed to run my finger over the smooth dark leaves and my throat was tight as I looked back at him.

He must be one of them. The doctor had called him an investor.

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