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Authors: Cheryl Brooks

Tags: #Romance Speculative Fiction

Rogue (18 page)

BOOK: Rogue
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"Yes, I did." He looked at me with heavy-lidded eyes.

"And, in case you haven't noticed, he's gone."

"Tell me something, then. Is it true that snard tastes sweet?"

He gazed at me in surprise. "How do you know of snard?"

"Trag told me while you were asleep."

Cocking his head in suspicion, Tychar asked, "He didn't give you some of his own to taste, did he?"

"No, I just said you were a sweetie, and he made that assumption."

"Oh." He sighed, his lips curling into a smile as he purred. "Then I'll give you some of it to taste, and you may judge for yourself."

I just stared at him for a moment as my mind went into a tailspin. Honest to God, if every handsome man on Earth were lined up for my inspection and approval, I would have ignored them all.
This
was the one who drove me wild. This one, and this one, alone. I'd never had much in the way of visions before, but I was certainly having them now! What he would look like on his knees with his buns in the air, his cock and balls hanging below, swinging back and forth when he moved. How his nuts would feel as they bounced against my tush. The way his scrotum would be pulled tight over his balls as he plunged into me as far as he could go. Too bad I couldn't actually
see
all of that, but I could imagine it, and it was making me wet and swollen with desire. So, this was what happened when you got together with a Zetithian!

Then I got a mental picture of his dick firing off in my face and had an orgasm.

Tychar was obviously paying attention, for he was standing by my chair within seconds, the smooth skin stretched tight over his dick; the jeweled cuff around his cock and balls offering them up for me to lick, to suck, to savor... My hands were wet with his fluids as I took his cock and slid my fist up and down his shaft, heard him purr, heard him groan.

"Put it in my mouth," I gasped. "Fill me with your snard... let me... taste it... Make me... scream." It was shocking. I wanted him to do things—wild, erotic, sexual things—and actually had the nerve to ask for them!

And at the breakfast table, no less!

He wound my braid around his hand and pulled me closer. "Suck me, then," he said with a purr. "Feel me in your mouth. Taste me."

The ruffled head of his cock pushed past my lips, sliding deeply into my mouth. He tasted good already and felt hot and powerful, as though he were pumping life into me. When my orgasms began, I tried to ignore them and focus only on how he felt, how he tasted, how he smelled. My own body was burning with desire, but I ignored that, too. It was so good, I didn't think I would have needed his orgasmic cock syrup to make me climax—I think I would have done it anyway.

Tychar was still purring, but now there was a groan with every thrust of his dick into my face. I backed off and managed to gasp, "Talk to me. Tell me what you like, how it feels."

"It feels so good," he said. "I like being in your mouth, watching your lips and tongue tease me. You are hot and wet, and your eyes are clouded with hunger."

He thrust into me again. "Oh, yessss," he sighed. "Suck harder. I like that."

I nearly swallowed him, stretching the ruffled corona back towards the head on the outstroke. His knees buckled, and he gripped the back of my chair for support.

"Yes, like that," he gasped, his purr becoming more frenzied. "Suck the snard from my cock, Kyra."

Then his breath went in with a hiss, and I swallowed the first shot without even tasting it, but on the second, I let go of him to watch. At point blank range, I saw him erupt, and his snard splattered all over my face.

When I gasped in awe, the third round hit me right on the tongue.

And yes, it
was
sweet—sweet, creamy, delicious, and maddeningly euphoric. I watched, fascinated, as the corona began to undulate and then took him back in my mouth, letting the scalloped edge tease my tongue while I caressed his balls with my hands. I'd never felt anything like it—had never even dreamed of such a thing—and soon there were hot tears running down my cheeks.

"Feels so good you could cry, doesn't it?" he whispered.

I nodded and felt his nuts spasm again in my hand when I moved.

He withdrew himself and wiped the snard from my cheek with his cockhead before sliding inside once again. "How does it taste?" he purred. "Is it sweet enough for you?"

Nodding again, I ran my tongue around the corona, tasting his semen, never wanting to let go of him again—ever.

But I did. I backed away and just sat there and stared; it was as though I could get as much pleasure simply by looking. But that wasn't true, of course. He moved closer again, sliding the head of his cock through the snard on my face, massaging my cheeks, my lips, and my nose.

It was hot, wet, slick... I had another orgasm... and another... and another. This was something truly amazing... something I couldn't have ever imagined, not if I'd racked my brain for a million years. He was more than any human lover could possibly hope to be—and Scalia had
two
of them...

Chapter 10

I DIDN'T WANT TO WAIT FIVE OR SIX MONTHS FOR IT TO WEAR

off; I wanted an antidote for my birth control pill, and I wanted it
now.
I wanted to have babies—boy babies.

Hundreds and hundreds of them who looked just like Tychar. Then I wanted to take them back to Earth and watch women drool over my sons. His sons.
Our
sons.

I wanted to save the species; to rescue them from extinction. I wanted his genes to be dominant over mine, so that you could never tell a Terran had given birth to them. I wanted other women to know the joy and pass it on.

Scalia couldn't keep them. The tigers couldn't re-produce on Darconia. They had to go where there were other mammals—humanoid mammals—who smelled good to them and made their dicks hard. And if there
was
a bounty on them—and I only had Scalia's word for that—well, we'd just have to kill anyone who tried to take them. And I
would
kill: to protect my children, and to protect
him.
I would gladly squeeze the life out of anyone stupid enough to make the attempt.

Of course, if there
was
a bounty on Zetithians, the way I was feeling was obviously the reason why. It was doubtful that I was the first to experience it, and I hoped I wouldn't be the last. Something had to be done. My scruples about being used to save a species from extinction had disappeared. Scalia was just sitting on these guys, when she could have bred hundreds of them by now. She should have gotten mates for them years ago.

I wondered if she'd tried. Perhaps she had, and I was just the first one to show up. I was an experiment: she'd needed a piano teacher, so she'd gotten a mammal from Earth. If I was ever granted a moment alone with her again, I would ask her if my suspicions were correct. I wasn't going to be afraid to ask questions anymore, or to make requests; I would decide what I wanted, and I would ask for it—or find a way to get it myself. Having had this brief time with a man such as Tychar had convinced me that I was as deserving as anyone else; God hadn't forgotten me, he'd simply saved me for the right man. Nindala would be proud—if I ever saw her again.

I would ask Scalia if she would book Nindala's troupe at my earliest opportunity. I'd never seen them perform, but if Nindala was anything to go by, the show
had
to be spectacular! The audience the night before had seemed to enjoy my piano recital, so they might be more open to other forms of entertainment now—though I was pretty sure there was a world of difference between the two. Of course, my ulterior motive was to find a mate for Trag.

I wondered if he liked redheads...

Nindala might not like Trag, though. I couldn't begin to imagine why, but there's no accounting for taste. Perhaps, being more sexually experienced, she might not be as overwhelmed by the Zetithians as I was—which would be a crying shame...

The entertainers in question turned out to be mammals all right, but they weren't humanoid, reminding me more of goats than anything; they even had horns. So much for finding a mate for Trag. This region of space didn't seem to have much in the way of potential candidates.

No wonder Scalia had had to look for one on Earth!

I had dinner with goats and lizards that evening, and we were served by a toad (Refdeck) and the slave with the octopus fingers, but no tigers. I'll have to say, the goats put on a darn good show, but watching goats sing and do acrobatic routines was like watching a circus with talking animals. They had their own musicians, but none of them could play the piano, so Scalia asked me to accompany one of them while he sang. I'd never played for a goat before, and though he had a nice tenor voice, I had to keep my eyes on the keyboard, because I couldn't look at him without cracking up.

Cornering Scalia after the show, I asked her if I could keep Tychar with me in my quarters all the time.

"It is already arranged," she replied with a knowing smile. "I knew you would want to keep him close by in case you needed anything during the night. I do not know why I never considered the matter before."

"Do we get locked in with a guard at the door?" I asked. It didn't matter that much to me, because I would make love with Tychar regardless of whether we were guarded or not, but the guard might get a little tired of hearing me cry out in ecstasy. Then again, it might relieve the boredom of having to stand watch all night.

She seemed to consider this carefully. "I do not believe it to be necessary to lock the door," she replied, "but a guard, yes—for his protection, you understand.

I do not believe he would attempt to escape. You have been very good for him."

So, he'd had a few words with the Queen. It must have been during Zealon's lesson, because, otherwise, I didn't think he'd been out of my sight all day—or out of arm's reach—though he
had
'been the one to bring me my lunch.

At least I thought he had; that whole morning had been one big orgasmic blur, so I may have been mistaken.

I broached the subject of Nindala's troupe then, hoping that Scalia would recognize the possibility of finding a mate for Trag. She never gave any hint that she might have understood why I asked, but did promise to look into it.

Then I got even bolder.

"Any problem with me having Tycharian's children?"

She seemed surprised that I would even consider it.

"You would have the children of a slave?"

"Sure," I said with a shrug. "They'd be awfully cute, don't you think?"

Eyeing me unblinkingly, she said, "You enjoy his company?"

"Oh, yeah," I replied. "He's terrific."

"Terrific?" Obviously not one of those words that had made it into the Standard Tongue, at least not in this region.

"Really, really good," I interpreted.

It may have been my imagination, but I believe she turned just a little more green at that point.

"You did say you wanted to breed more of them, didn't you?" I prompted her.

"Yes," she replied, seeming a bit distracted.

"It would take a little while," I added, "because I've got to wait a few months for my birth control pill to wear off. Oh, and I would keep the babies, of course—and I'd like to buy Tychar from you, too, if I could."

I must have been moving way too fast for her, for she just stared at me without comment.

"I could work off his value in piano lessons," I went on conversationally. "A few years' worth should do it, don't you think?" When she still didn't reply, I added, "I could teach some other kids, too. Is Zealon your only child?"

That got a bit of a blink out of her, because I saw her nictitating membrane begin to slide over her left eye.

"No," she said, seeming to come to her senses again. "I have other children. All males."

"That's great!" I said enthusiastically. "I could teach them, too."

"Males are not musical," she said flatly.

"Well, they are on my world," I argued. "In fact, I'd be willing to bet there are more male musicians on Earth than there are female."

"Is that so?"

"Oh, yeah! The girls just love them! They sit out in the audience and scream their heads off." Darconians would thump their tails, of course, but the basic principle was still the same.

Something seemed to jog her memory just then, because she changed the subject, stating firmly, "There is a bounty on Zetithians." I knew she'd come back to that sooner or later! "Tychar would not be safe beyond the palace walls."

"He would be plenty safe on Earth," I insisted. "It's a long way from here, and our security is pretty tight. We don't let just anyone land there."

"He might be harmed during the journey." Obviously she didn't want to give up her pets completely, even to me.

"He could wear a disguise," I said reasonably. "You know, a cloak with a hood and a veil over his face? I saw lots of people traveling that way." They must have been really, really ugly, too, because no one ever asked them to uncover their faces. "I know you're very attached to him," I said soothingly, "and it would be
years
before we could leave, but..."

"I will consider the matter," she said regally. "But for the present, you may continue to... enjoy him as you see fit."

I figured it wouldn't do any harm to lay it on thick at that point. "Thank you, Your Majesty," I said, dropping into a deep curtsy. "You are most kind. I will do my very best to make virtuosos out of any students you choose to give me."

"I know you will teach my children to the best of your ability," she said. "And your own offspring, as well."

It wasn't a real obvious, "Yes, and have all the kittens you want," but it was good enough for me. I was chuckling to myself as I walked away, and, if I'm not mistaken, Scalia was, too. I might have sprung it on her faster than she thought I would, but I doubted that I'd said anything she didn't want to hear.

One thing I hadn't reckoned on was just how many other children Scalia would have. Turns out there were five of them, and not one of them had any intention of learning to play the piano. They made me wish I'd been a guitar teacher, instead, because being a rowdy but charismatic bunch of boys, I could have made rockstars out of the lot of them without any trouble at all. Unfortunately, in order to be big enough for a Darconian to play, a guitar would have had to be about the size of a bass violin, which was a bit daunting, and the drums would have had to be really, really sturdy. It was possible that such instruments existed, but I hadn't seen any lying about, and so, after three days of practicing scales, we were down to two boys.

BOOK: Rogue
11.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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