Page 55 of Scorching the Alien Empire
I hate it!
It’s like I don’t exist. I might as well be one of the banners fluttering against the walls.
“If you say so,” Sandra mutters, her doubtful tone pricking at my nerves.
Ugh!
Then it hits me—a lightning bolt of divine inspiration, straight from Arawnoth.Oh, I know exactly how to make Dracoth notice me!A devious, delightfully naughty idea spreads a wicked grin across my face, banishing my scowl.
So very carefully, I summon an array of small, shimmering shields around Dracoth’simpressivepackage of man meat. Laughter bubbles in my chest, threatening to spill out when his crimson gaze snaps to me, his usual Mr. Frowny Face now extra frowny. His fingers tighten around the massive skull armrests of his throne, the bones creaking under his grip.
But the naughtiness has only just begun. I will my divine barriers to stroke up and down his length, savoring the faint widening of his eyes and the way he shifts forward in his seat to hide his... growing predicament.
I can feel his member pressing against my shields, the same way I can feel Drexios attacking his doggy cage. Dracoth’s a very big boy, so I spread my shields wider to accommodate his thickening, throbbing manhood.
My grin widens as I watch his muscles tense, his jaw clenching with each stroke. He’s practically squirming in his immensethrone of bone and obsidian, and it’sdelicious. I don’t let up, his reactions only fueling my mischief as I increase the tempo.
“War Chieftain, are you well?” Corsark asks, his voice laced with concern. He glances nervously at the other bone-through-the-nose space-knights flanking him.
I’m surprised he noticed anything at all, given his endless boasting.
“Yes,” Dracoth grumbles, his glare burning a hole through me.
It’s a struggle not to look away. His displeasure radiates from his expression and through our bond in waves of molten fury. Instead, I force a doe-eyed expression of feigned innocence, clutching the blazing Arawnoth brand on my chest with mock surprise.
“Continue, Corsark,” Dracoth urges, flicking a massive hand dismissively. A teeny-tiny smirk—barely visible—creases his lip, and I know I’m in trouble.
Suddenly, a warmth explodes between my legs, making my knees quiver and my back straighten. It’sdefinitelynot normal—nothing Dracoth does is normal. The heat pulses, leaving molten pleasure in little zigzagging trails over my lady bits. The pattern he’s tracing is unmistakably his, a reminder of how well he knows my body.
“Ohhh.” A treacherous moan escapes my clenched lips.
“Why are you mooing like a cow, Lexie?” Sandra asks, her voice a mix of amusement and concern. Her blue eyes flick to the guards, who are doing their best to pretend they’re not listening.
“Um...” I mutter, biting down on my lip as the pulsing heat grows hotter and faster, kissing my pussy with lovely throbbing warmth. “Todd, dug his... wee... ooh.”
For fuck’s, sake!
“You behave yourself, naughty Todd,” Sandra says, reaching over to pet Todd’s totally sleeping form.
Thank Arawnoth she doesn’t notice.
“My thanks, War Chieftain. I pledge to serve you as faithfully as I did your great father.” Corsark slams a fist to his armored chest and bows his head, the sound echoing throughout the immense black marble hall.
Finally, he’s done!
“Your impressive feats speak of your noble character,” Dracoth rumbles, his voice steady despite my best efforts to unsettle him. “And your war brothers confirm your indomitable resolve.” He gestures toward the group of towering soldiers. “You honor me with your service, Corsark. Know that you will always have a place in my warband—the Ravagers Berserkers. Know that your thirst for battle and conquest, which beats in every true Klendathian’s heart, will always be quenched as we stride like gods over the masses of the vanquished.”
How can he talk so calmly while I’m squirming like I’ve got ants in my pants?
I increase the tempo of my divine barriers rubbing against his cock, determined to win. He’ll be the first one to break!
Dracoth crosses his legs and rocks forward, almost huddled into a giant red ball of pleasurable shame. I’d burst into laughter at the sight if I weren’t biting my lip to keep from moaning. The dancing, pulsing heat between my legs has me panting, tingles fluttering all over my body.
“Proud sons of Scarn,” Ignixis intones, gliding toward the soldiers like liquid shadow in his void-black robes. “Behold the sacred ashes of Scarn, the cradle of the powerful, drenched in Arawnoth’s nourishing blood.” His wizened hand disappears into the folds of his robes and emerges with a small leather pouch.
He stands before Corsark. “Go forth with Arawnoth’s blessing, Ravager Berserkers,” Ignixis continues, pressing a clump of black ash onto his bowed head. “Scourge the weak, embrace strength. Let the vanquished be reborn in his divine image.” Hisvoice booms with reverence as he repeats the blessing on the remaining soldiers.
“May you die a glorious death,” Ignixis concludes, raising his arms toward the vaulted marble ceilings.
