Page 35 of Taken to Lemora
His heat crashes into my front. His finger slides under my chin. He tips my face up, up, up, so that I’ve got nowhere to look but at him. Straight into his eyes. I’m sucked in by the black and blue and purple and grey and orange and yellow and pink and sizzling green.
His mouth suddenly moves closer, closer, closer and I hold my breath, imagining for one fatal moment that he might be about to kiss me. He brushes his lips over mine so softly and quickly it’s almost like it didn’t happen. That featherweight touch is there and then gone before I’m even able to react to it. I whimper slightly, belly clenching dramatically as I mourn the loss.
“Whatever you like, Essmira,” he whispers against my cheek. “Just know, you don’t have to be.”
7
Raingar
Nob. This is a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. What am I thinking, kissing her like that? Pagh! She’s still finding herself and all that nonsense Merquin spouted. I’m supposed to be giving her space, time.
But I can’t. Because she touched my legs and she asked me about other females and I heard jealousy in her tone, maybe real or maybe just imagined, but I heard it and it was enough.
I pull away from her and she sways forward, like shelikedme kissing her and as if she wants me to do it again. I can’t think that far ahead. All of this is too much for me right now. Withdrawing roughly, I go to the chair under the window and plop down in it. I rest my head on the chair’s high back and close my eyes.It’s better if I don’t look at her. My cock wants to devour.
The angry pressure in my half-constructed trousers doubles and then doubles again when I catch her scent. “This won’t hurt, I promise, Raingar,” she says and I chuff. She’s lying. She doesn’t know it, but she’s lying through her straight, square teeth. I’m already hurting but it doesn’t matter a bit because I’m going to keep hurting until she’s finished doing whatever she wants to me.
I hear her hands rubbing together, the sound of something slick between them. And then the smell, delightful and invigorating reaches me. It smells like freshly snipped herbs, the rich, spicy bark of a Sadaran tree, and just a hint of citrus. And she pressed it herself. Just in a few solars.She’s incredible.
The oil makes a slick sound as it melts against her red and brown flesh. I picture her hands, the little red curl by her ear. How far does the red go? How hot are her hands? How hot is the wet,drippingslit between her legs? What does it look like? What do her undergarments look like? Would she let me see her bare if I asked? She is a pleasure female, after all, and she said she didn’t mind it if it was just for one male. I could be that male. The sole recipient of the pleasure she wants and was trained to provide.
My thoughts are no longer mine. My cock has made a journey through my body to my brain and is rooting around in it, destroying all escape hatches, ejecting all reason, taking hold of cannons called lust and desire and firing at everything.
“Raingar?”
“Yeffa.”
“Why are your horns molting? I…was taught that Lemoran horns are one of the toughest materials in the universe — strong enough even to pierce Oosa hides — but yours seem to pain you. Does your pain have to do with the changing colors?”
“Theyareamong the strongest materials in the universe. But they change colors…sometimes…”Tell her. Just tell her. End this charade. To the Grey Zone with Merquin and her attempts to dictate to me how to woo my female. Claim her first, then woo her. There will be time for courtship later, but my cock cannot wait.“They change!” I shout.
“Hmm,” she says softly. “You don’t have to tell me why if you don’t want to.”
“Essmira…” I snarl, but whatever I was going to say next is cut down when she touches me.
Her fingers, slick with the oil she created herself, apply a gentle pressure to the skin around my horns. Whatever’s on her hands is cool, but the temperature of her skin acts as a warming balm that comes right after.
“Essmira!” I heave out a breath, can’t catch my breath, stop breathing altogether.
My chest inflates and my eyes roll back in my skull behind closed lids. There’s a pinching in my lower back as her fingers still around my horns and she says, “Am I hurting you?”
“NOB! Don’t stop!” I gasp, dig my bare heels into the stone floor, try to stop the micro pulses of my hips which are seeking to drive my cock into her soft, pliant body. “Don’t…” I’ve never felt more aroused in my entire existence. The damn trousers are about to explode off of me as they squeeze around my hardening erection. I’m hard as an ohring board underneath her gentle ministrations.
She continues speaking as she massages the skin surrounding the base of my horns oh so ohring gently. “Is the pressure good for you?”
“Is this you behaving professionally?” I hiss, furious at the sudden idea that she’d ask another male this question in that seductive tone of voice.
She stills and starts to pull back, but my left hand reaches out before I can stop it and snatches her wrist. I hold her hand against my horn long enough for her to know what I want before I reach for her waist and, finding it, pull her closer.
She doesn’t speak but she obeys. Her fingers work their way up to the middle of my horns before she drags fresh ointment all the way up to the tip. She ohring…she’s handling my horns beautifully —wonderfully!— fisting them tightly. Does she have any idea that some Lemoran would consider this more intimate than the act of coupling itself? Nob, I think if she did, she’d be horrified, but I’m too much of a bastard to tell her to stop.
I grip her waist more forcefully, fingers digging into her skin as I fully submerge myself in the sensation of Essmira fisting both of my horns simultaneously. Her hands glide up and down from base to tip.
The exquisite pain of her hands touching the grey, flaking part of my horns is nothing compared to the pure pleasure I feel when she touches the white part. It confuses me, the contrasting sensations, but in a way I suppose it makes sense. The white part ishers,why should it hurt me when she claims it?
“I don’t want you using this cream on anybody else,” I say darkly.
“Raingar, I…” She swallows a shaky breath. Her pitch wavers and is enough for me to open my eyes and raise my head. I look into her gaze, hovering only slightly higher than mine even though I’m seated on this low chair and she’s standing to her full height.
