“Show me what you like,” he urged.
She circled the swollen nub, and he followed the movement, his finger so much larger and firmer that she arched into his touch.
“You’re very wet, my aria,” he murmured approvingly.
Some distant part of her was embarrassed, but the rest was focused on the rising pleasure between her legs. Her body started to tighten in preparation for her climax, and then he pulled away. Before she could protest, he had moved down the bed and taken her hips in his hands.
“I must taste you.” And then his mouth was on her.
One sweep of his tongue across her needy flesh, and stars seemed to explode in the darkened room. Her body convulsed, but he held her firmly in place with those huge hands and didn’t stop, driving her from one climax into another. A thick finger slid into her, and she had a sudden flare of panic before it was washed away by yet another climax. Only when she finally pushed weakly at his head did he pull back. He looked up at her, and she could see his eyes gleaming in the darkness.
“Is that better?”
She nodded before she remembered that he wouldn’t be able to see her in the darkness. Relief and embarrassment vied for dominance.
“Yes, I—”
He moved as she spoke, sliding up her body, and she suddenly felt the heavy length of his cock against her thigh. Panic washed over her again. “What are you doing?”
“I am claiming you.”
“No! No, I don’t want that.”
She had little hope that her words would stop him, but he froze just as the massive head of his cock touched her entrance.
“You do not choose to join with me?”
“No.” Now that the heat had left her system, she felt both mortified and oddly guilty. “I didn’t mean to lead you on.”
“Lead me? You’re planning to take me somewhere?”
She choked back a half-hysterical laugh. This giant alien had his equally giant cock at the entrance to her pussy and they were discussing semantics.
“It’s an expression. I meant I’m sorry that I can’t reciprocate after you…helped me.”
“I see.”
To her relief, he moved to the side and settled down next to her. He put an arm around her shoulders and tucked her against his body, and she didn’t have the heart to protest. If he was content just to hold her, she could only be grateful.
“I’m sorry,” she said again.
“I said that I would not hurt you. I certainly will not take you against your will. Go to sleep, Isabel.”
She didn’t expect that would happen, but her body was limp and relaxed, and it didn’t take long before she gave in to exhaustion.
Baralt left his bedroom feeling unusually satisfied considering the somewhat…incomplete nature of the previous evening. If someone had suggested a week ago that he would spend a night simply holding a very desirable female while his kotra ached and his knee throbbed, he would have laughed in their face, but he had been quite content until the pain in his knee could no longer be ignored. He knew from experience that he needed to ice the joint and work out the stiffness before it locked up on him completely. He reluctantly left Isabel nestled in his bed.
His contentment vanished as he walked into his living area and found Relkhei waiting for him. Each contract fighter’s quarters were supposed to be under his individual control, but the fight master would never let a minor detail like that interfere with his plans. Before Relkhei had established the fight pit on Tgesh Tai, rumor had it that he had been part of a large criminal enterprise. Baralt had no difficulty believing it.
Relkhei was Ylftek, a tall, slender male with dark-green skin and pointed ears who looked deceptively fragile. Baralt had seen him give a demonstration of his skills before, and he didn’t make the mistake of underestimating Relkhei as an opponent.
He instinctively straightened his shoulders and did his best to hide his limp, scowling at his visitor. “What are you doing here?”
“Perhaps I came to congratulate you on your victory. It was most satisfying to see you set aside your foolish scruples and engage in a real match.”
It was a long-standing argument. The death matches were far more profitable—both for Relkhei and the fighters—but Baralt only killed when necessary. Saving Isabel from the winner of the match had been necessary. Even now, the thought of what might have happened to her if he had not triumphed made him shudder.
“You know my reasons,” he said shortly as he went to the small kitchen area to pour himself a mug of cafir. He deliberately did not offer anything to Relkhei.
“I do. Which is why I find myself intrigued by the lure of this human female. I look forward to trying her out myself.”
Baralt’s hand tightened on the mug to the point where it was about to crack. He would never let Relkhei put a finger on Isabel. She was so soft and defenseless, and while the fight master might not be as overtly brutal as the slave fighters, he had a streak of cruelty that could be even more dangerous.
“I wish to buy her,” he blurted out, even knowing that it was a mistake to reveal his interest.
Relkhei raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were opposed to slavery.”
“You know I am. I don’t wish her to be enslaved.”
“I suppose you intend to let her go free?” Despite the mocking note in Relkhei’s voice, his question made Baralt hesitate. He did not want to let Isabel go.
“She will be safe with me,” he said, knowing that it was an incomplete answer.
“Perhaps she would be; however, I’m afraid it’s not possible. I have plans for the female. Did you know that there are rumors that the new Emperor has a human slave? I rather like the idea of having something in common with the Emperor. You have her for the week specified in the fight contract and that is
