Their Human Pet Read Online Loki Renard

Categories Genre: Alien, Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Dragons, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
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“Something like that,” the alien with the glorious hair and the muscle in his cheek says. He smiles at me and his cheeks dimple and the scaling around his hairline sort of seems to shift a little. He looks like a galactic barbarian prince, I decide. He’s the most human of the three of them, though there is no way he could be mistaken for a person. His eyes are a little too big, his jaw a little too strong and broad. His nose is sort of flat across the bridge and down to the tip. When he smiles, his teeth flash with points, and a couple of very pronounced canines.

The tall one, Sharp, is quite imposing. His eyes are interstellar green, and his general features are not that different from Benedict Cumberbatch, whose reruns still play on Zeal TV to this day. They are sharper though, and haughtier. His eyes are narrow and the edges slant up toward his ears. He has a cosmic case of resting bitch face, but he is beautiful nonetheless. The scales on his face and hands gleam in the ship’s light. He is dangerous, I decide. They all are, but he has a particular kind of menace to him that makes me curious as hell.

The bull who made me come is the most shocking or perhaps alien of them all. His skin is thick and deep red. His face is more like an animal than like a man. He has a snout and a mouth filled with the teeth of a beast who chews plant matter. His eyes are big and soulful. He has a thick plume of dark hair between his horns that runs down the back of his powerful neck. He is wearing pants, but not shoes. He has hooves, and a tail that ends in a pointed tip. His upper torso is naked and so muscular every movement he makes causes a ripple that draws my eyes so completely it feels like there’s nothing else happening in the world. Or off it, I guess.

He snorts as he looks at me, then the corner of his lip curls up in a remarkably sexy smirk.

“Holy shit,” I say. “What the fuck is happening?”

They give each other a look I don’t understand. Mostly because I don’t know if alien expressions translate to human ones. I’d say they look a combination of relieved, skeptical, and something else.

“You’re back where you belong,” Sharp says. “That’s what’s happening. And you’re going to pay for making us come this far and look this long.”

“You might enjoy pranks,” the barbarian says. “But this goes way beyond a reasonable joke, pet. It took us years to find you.”

I stare at them blankly. “Am I being detained?”

I don’t know why I ask it that way. Abducted is really a better word, I guess, but that seems cliché. Also, there’s something about their demeanor and all their words that makes me feel like I am in trouble. So it feels a little more like being hunted down by alien cops and… made to come?

I’m excited, horrified, scared, and probably a whole lot of other feelings as well. It’s hard to categorize them all. It’s impossible to feel them all. Part of me is just relieved that anything is taking place at all.

I have been waiting for something to happen, I realize. Years have passed me by while I’ve been in a sort of haze of just trying to survive. I woke up in the hospital, needed money, and just had to get on with things.

These aliens are promising me the one thing I don’t have: context.

“I know you don’t believe me, but my brain got scrubbed,” I tell them. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Let me explain, then,” Sharp says, leaning down a little so his reptilian gaze locks more intimately with mine. “You belong to us, and you are going to suffer the consequences of your actions whether you claim to remember them or not.”

“You have got to stop talking to me in that tone,” I say. “I really don’t like it.”

The bull smirks and then laughs. “Nothing has changed,” he says. His voice is a deep baritone that would give the club’s speakers a run for their money. “Even if you can’t remember anything, you remember how to be…”

“A problem?”

“Trouble,” he finishes his sentence.

“Oh, in that case, I have changed. Trouble doesn’t interest me nearly as much as causing problems does. Trouble sounds like a kid who did something wrong. Problem is worse.”

“You were enough of a problem when we had you,” Mr. Grumpy says. I’m just going to start mentally naming them, because for the most part, they’re not bothering to introduce themselves. I know his name is Sharp, but I don’t want to think that right now. That’s kind of hot, and I don’t want to find him hot.


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