Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“It’s nice not to have needles sticking into every part of me more or less constantly,” he says, catching my gaze.
“What were they doing, injecting you with things?”
“Injecting me with things, and sucking other things out,” he says. “I don’t think there was a bit of me they didn’t biopsy.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“Agreed,” he says, not pointing out the fact that I already said that, and therefore it’s not a very original or useful observation. I get the impression he is very much a gentleman underneath all those scales and scars and such.
* * *
Freak
This human is adorable. Her hair is a reddish blonde, her nose is covered in freckles, and she has sweet green-brown eyes. Her mind is an absolute goldmine of thoughts rushing in different directions.
She likes the food. She thinks I’m hot. She’s wondering if she can get back to her ship and repair it—the answer to which is absolutely not. That thing was a death trap to begin with and is even less structurally sound now that I have had my way with it.
She thinks I am attractive. She’s wondering if I like her. She’s thinking about how broad my shoulders are and she’s having several rounds of explicit thoughts that flash through her mind so fast I don’t think she’s probably aware of having them.
I can sense how lost she is, how hard she is working to be okay. She is still internally trembling from her recent brush with death. I want to save her again. This time from those deep feelings that are welling up in front of me rather than physical danger.
I have been through hell these past months. Trapped by my enemies, experimented upon, tortured for the fun of it. It is not often that one of my kind finds themselves vulnerable, and I did not like it one bit.
I am finding this little human’s presence a pleasant distraction. I am also finding her alluring in the physical sense. She has lovely curves just barely contained in her spacesuit, thick thighs, wide hips, ample ass. My species is supposed to be relatively immune to appearance, but hers is so delicious I cannot draw my gaze away from her.
Her concern for me is sweet and genuine. Usually when I interact with others, and almost constantly through my confinement, there is an undercurrent of self-serving malice. There are calculations and plans. This human is not trying to get anything from me. She’s actually more worried about me than she is for herself.
I can feel something below her thoughts, a sadness, a yearning, a quest of some kind. She is on this station because she is missing something important. I can feel the shape of it, and I can tell it is fundamental. But I don’t know what it is because in this moment she is more focused on me.
She’s thinking to herself how pretty my eyes are and she’s wondering how big my cock is. She’s chastising herself inwardly and sliding her gaze away from mine now. The cute little thing has no idea that I can read her thoughts as easily as I could read any book.
I feel an intense rush of connection and care. I have to get moving. I can’t stay still, not until I find a way back to the home realm, and I will not be taking any obvious paths there in the short term. I need to run, I need to stay clear of the hunters, and I can’t leave her behind.
She’s mine.
And I want to answer that question about my cock.
* * *
Mara
“As I said, they’re going to be looking for me, so I am going to have to escape this station,” he says.
“Oh. Okay. Well. It was nice meeting you… ohhh ahhh! What are you doing?”
He reaches out and takes me by the hand. The effect of this is my relatively small hand being absolutely enveloped in his much larger and more clawed one. His grip is not too tight, but there is no way I will be escaping it.
My reaction might seem a bit overkill given the gesture is generally a mild one, but there’s something in the energy of the way he does it that freaks me the hell out.
“I’m sorry, but I’m going to kidnap you,” he says, both making me feel like my reaction was accurate, and starting to walk away from the food court. He keeps my hand in his, and he is striding toward the docks.
Kidnap me? After we shared burgers? I am stunned by the decision, and by the way he immediately executes it, before I really have a chance to process it. I guess that’s how kidnapping works.
“I really think we should discuss this!” I call out as he more or less drags me about.
He pauses at one of the quieter, more industrial corners of the station and turns to look at me.