Page 16 of Bought and Shared

I like his praise. It tickles me down between my legs.

I know I shouldn’t enjoy it so much. It’s sinful, forbidden fruit.

The slickness coating my thighs tells me I do, though.

No amount of denial will make that wetness disappear, and deep down, I don’t want it to.

What I want, more than anything, is to explore it in as much depth as this handsome alien will let me.

As if he can read my thoughts, Oren asks, “Is your pussy wet, Aurora?”

Because I can’t hide my shame from him, I confess to my sin like I’m at Sunday service. “Yes, Master.”

Oren’s lips pull up in a pleased grin. “Good girl. Spread your legs and let me see.”

Inching the hem of my dress up around my waist, I bare my woman’s center to him. His entrancing jewel-toned eyes lock on to it with a yearning so strong I can feel it resonate within my chest.

“If I had my way, Kitten, I’d fuck that tight virgin hole of yours right here and now,” he states thickly, a dark and dangerous promise embedded in his words as he reaches out and traces the seam between my nether lips. “But until Knox joins us, that particular delight is not on the table for us.”

A small sound escapes my lips. Is it a sound of relief or disappointment?

I’m unsure. All I know is that my skin is on fire and my body is thrumming with an urgency I can’t explain.

I need this man inside of me. To push beyond my virgin walls and shoot his seed as deep into my core as possible.

I’ve never wanted anything more. Until I get it, I won’t be satisfied.

This powerful foreign urge, especially in light of the chaos of today and the traumatic events of the last few days, confuses me.

It’s as though I have no control over my own thoughts and desires when it comes to my Master.

He pats his lap before reaching for his fly and drawing it down. “Come over here, Kitten. I need your skin against mine.”

Despite my naivete, I don’t hesitate. I want this. Him. His skin against my skin. His hands stroking my flesh while I stroke his. It’s a bone-deep, visceral thing, and I can’t stop myself from wanting more.

Oren leans my back against his chest as he settles me atop him. His cock, already burgeoning to life, is nestled against my backside. He straddles my legs over his thighs, exposing my vulnerable apex.

The closer I get to him, the stronger his scent is.

It fills my nostrils, heady and all-consuming.

The fragrance is unexplainable. It takes on a life of its own within my body like a virus does its unsuspecting host. I am transformed by it.

Even more terrifying, I seem to be controlled by it. What is happening to me?

“There we go,” Oren soothes, reaching between my thighs as he pets the glistening folds of my sex. “Doesn’t that feel good?”

It does, but I wouldn’t dare admit that truth to him out loud. It would give him too much power over me, and he already has more than enough to destroy my world entirely.

Oren wraps his arms around me and begins to tease my sensitive bud with one hand while the other fondles my breasts.

His warm lips find the nape of my neck, nipping and sucking a hot trail up to the lobe of my ear.

The moment he touches me, I’m on fire and close to coming.

It’s like a fever is coursing through my veins and getting worse by the second.

I’m on a collision course with the Mack truck of pleasure and there’s no swerving from its path before it totals us both.

Adjusting himself so that his manhood passes between my thighs, Oren takes my hand and wraps it around his shaft. “Work it up and down, like this,” he instructs.

I’m in awe, and frankly, fear, of his supremely masculine physique, but especially his enormous penis.

My fingers can barely fit around it. Warm to the touch, it’s both soft and hard at the same time.

Like steel encased in a velvet glove. It’s the size of a club, thick and flushed red.

It weeps a fascinating clear substance at the tip as Oren tutors me on how best to handle him.

Entranced by his body, I start to grow bold and experiment by stroking faster.

When I do, a hiss escapes his lips and I pause.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize, worried that I’ve been too rough.

Oren chuckles. It’s a soft sound that pleases me greatly. Nuzzling my neck, he says, “For what? Every time you touch me it feels as though I’m sky high and I can’t come down.”

I had very little point of reference on the subject, but I agree. Whenever we’re together, my head buzzes as though there isn’t enough oxygen in the room, and what supply I do have is fast depleting.

Leaning back in his chair, Oren grasps my hips and encourages me to slide his cock between my soaking folds.

He groans as he sandwiches my legs closed around his hot flesh.

Angling himself against my bud, he bucks upward to stimulate my clit.

The sensation is blissful and nearly causes me to white out from pleasure.

“Fist my cock while you work it against your clit.” To emphasize his meaning, Oren squeezes my waist and simulates me riding him.

Lost to the devastating sensations of his body against mine, I begin to bounce awkwardly at first. Guiding me, Oren demonstrates a rhythm I instinctively know but need to resurrect from a lifetime of the strict repression of my animal urges.

Oren’s eyes are mere slits and heavy looking as I glance over my shoulder and see him watching his shaft saw back and forth between my slick thighs.

“So good,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “I can’t even imagine how good that virgin pussy of yours is going to feel strangling my cock once I get inside of it. Like fucking heaven!”

His course language shoots me even higher and I become rougher, gyrating in his lap like I’m on springs.

“That’s right,” he encourages, feeding me up and down his length with the barest of efforts, “come all over my cock, baby. If you do it, I’ll give you a nice, hot shot of my cum smeared all over your spasming cunt.”

I begin to whimper as the pressure builds within my core. I’m drunk on the euphoria I’m chasing, which is a hair’s breadth out of my reach. It’s so close, I can taste, smell, and feel it. I’m desperate for its welcome oblivion to the point of hysteria.

“Do you want my cum, Kitten?” He teases me, slowing down his movements, depriving me of the necessary friction I need to break.

“Yes!” I angrily exclaim, rocking faster to speed up his strokes.

He stills and bends me towards his crotch. “Then spit on my cock!”

I lean forward and spit obediently. Capping the head with my palm, I begin to massage the warm fluid in.

“Fuck!” Oren groans, his body as rigid as stone. “I love watching you do that! It’s so fucking hot!”

My hips kick up as his fingers bite into the curve of my waist. My palm continues to massage his cockhead as his thumb finds and strokes my clit like a savant. Lightning strikes me at the same time as it does him. We both cry out as our bodies writhe and buck with our mutual releases.

His seed, hot and creamy, spurts into my hands and drips onto my sex and along his shaft. I can smell our combined passions, and I feel like my senses are under invasion. I’m overwhelmed by the touch, smell, and feel of him.

My lungs are burning as though I’ve just run a marathon. Beneath me, Oren’s muscles relax a bit, though his manhood is still standing perfectly erect between my closed thighs.

After I catch my breath, I stand on shaky legs. Oren rises too. With some napkins in hand, he cleans between my legs, then takes care of himself. I slip back into my silk dress, shaken and humbled by what we’ve both shared.

Oren does up his pants before buckling me back into my seat. “We’ll be arriving at Fort Kent in about ten minutes. Once we get there, I’m taking you directly to my physician to get that cut checked out. Despite what you say, it looks deep and I’ve no wish for it to get infected.”

Sighing, I finger the wound and wince. I could argue and tell him it wasn’t necessary, but it was probably best I had it checked out. The last thing I needed was an infection on top of everything else.

“Okay,” I readily concede, suddenly more exhausted—and satisfied—than I could ever remember being.

Knox

“This is unacceptable!” I shout, as I pace the small, rented room like a caged lion.

Over our comm, my squad mate remains unperturbed by my explosive outburst. He’s used to it and doesn’t even flinch when I punch the wall, leaving a massive hole behind that I’ll have to pay to have repaired.

“It is,” he agrees when I’ve settled some. “And I’ve already let my superiors know, in writing, that I no longer find this form of transport sufficient for delivering draftees to their masters.”

I hated Oren’s ability to remain calm almost as much as I respected it.

“Do the elite, in their pristine, ivory towers, not understand how few of these women there are to go around? How important they are to the continuation of our kind? You would think they don’t, given how they treat such a precious resource. ”

Oren’s expression remains flat throughout my impassioned speech.

It isn’t the first time I’ve let him know how I feel about the top brass.

For his part, he mostly agrees, but, as a child of a wealthy and influential family, he understands the importance of structure and hierarchy.

He’s been fed a steady diet of it since birth.

“If they didn’t know before, my letter let them know, in explicit terms, how disastrous this situation could have been,” he calmly reiterates.

That was some conciliation, but not nearly enough for my liking. “How is she?” I demand.

I’ve never even met this woman before, nor seen a picture of her, but the thought of losing our mate is nearly unbearable.

Oren smiles, as though he truly understands my concern. I suppose he can, as he’s been far more intimate with her than I have.