Page 32 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Ziame

I hated seeing my Abigail cry. She had been so brave and strong from the moment we met, always fighting back.

But hearing her fellow human cry, talking about home had reminded her of all she had lost. I held her tightly in my arms, offering her solace and warmth, and feeling grateful that at least she was letting me give her this.

When she’d exhausted herself, she finally fell asleep, and I was grateful for that too.

It was good to find a moment of peace in dreams. I didn’t even mind that now I was still stuck with the hated pain collar for another day; the appearance of the new human had to change our plans.

We needed to make absolutely certain that she, too, was safe while we fought and defeated the guards.

I debated what to do for some time. My conscience wanted me to tuck Abigail into bed and sit down next to her, just like I had the previous night.

I liked holding her close to me too much.

I’d been touch-starved for three years, and I was soaking up the weight and warmth of her body against mine like a plant soaking up water in a desert.

It wasn’t just that—it was Abigail. She smelled so good, and she was so beautiful, with her dark brown skin and wild black curls.

Then there was that brave, clever mind of hers—she hadn’t given up once, and I didn’t count now either.

I was certain that, come morning, she’d bounce right back, ready to figure a way out of this new predicament too.

In the end, I lay down with her on the cot.

It was too small for both of us side by side; the damn cot was too small for me, period.

With my feet hanging over the end and my right horn scraping against the wall, I could lie on my back with Abigail curled up on my chest, tucked close with my arms and my tail.

Like that, it was easy to fall asleep, and when I woke up that next morning with her still right there, tucked up all warm and cozy, that was easy too.

I wanted to bask in that moment, in her presence just a little longer, but I couldn’t wait to see her open those pretty brown eyes, which were tilted just a tad, making them look sharp and clever.

When she woke, she froze for a brief moment, her eyes blinking in the dark, and I was reminded of the fact that her eyes needed far more light to see than I did.

Then she inhaled deeply and burrowed her cold nose against my throat.

“Ziame,” she sighed, and then she added, a little more sternly, “I usually don’t sleep with a guy before he’s bought me dinner. ”

I didn’t know what buying her dinner had to do with it, precisely, but I caught her meaning just fine, and hope soared through my chest. I didn’t care what I sounded like at all when I asked with a parched mouth, “You mean to say you’d be amenable to such things if I did?

” I knew I didn’t say it out loud—how monstrous I looked compared to her—but I was certain she understood.

Her body shifted a little, and I stifled a groan at the feel of her sweet curves sliding against the hard planes of my body. “I...” she said, and then her shoulders straightened, and I knew I was going to get total honesty. I braced myself for rejection.

“Yes, I think I’d like that,” she said. I stared at her, shocked, surprised, and suddenly, oddly happy. I hadn’t been happy in three long years, so it was a very strange feeling to experience.

“Really?” I asked, and I could hear how husky and shocked my voice sounded. No doubt she heard it too. That hardly mattered; all I wanted was to hear her response, to hear her say that she was speaking the truth.

One delicate hand reached up to pat the side of my face.

“Yes. Really, I’d like to get to know you better—once we’re not stuck in a cell together and are free to make our own choices.

” I reveled in the soft stroke of her fingers on my scales and then realized my cheeks were hurting, probably because I wasn’t used to smiling anymore.

Still, honesty bade me to tell her of our differences.

“You must know that my mouth… it’s far different from those soft, tempting lips of yours.

My species, we can’t kiss the way humans do.

” Her fingers froze for a moment on my face, and I could practically hear her thinking. Then, said fingers slid down my jaw.

I didn’t have a sharp snout the way the Sune did in his shifted form, but it was more of a snout than a flat human face regardless.

My blunt snout was tipped with a wide nose, pierced with a gold ring.

That was common among my species, but my owner had perverted it.

He had enjoyed hooking a chain to the ring and parading me around on a lead, as if I were a dumb beast of burden.

Abigail’s delicate fingers trailed across that nose and touched the ring, and it wasn’t until I heard the shallow intake of her breath that I focused on her instead of my own thoughts.

Flicking out my tongue, I tasted the air—her pheromones—and I realized her scent told me many things, none of them bad.

She did want me; she was attracted; and touching my face, which was so very different from hers, wasn’t putting her off.

“I think we can work around that, as long as that’s the biggest issue,” she murmured, sounding thoughtful. Despite her darker skin, I could easily detect the heat rising to her cheeks. “Uh… I mean, if the other parts line up all right, that is...”

Ah, she wanted to know if my cock would fit.

This, at least, I could confidently answer with a solid yes.

“Do not worry, I am much like a human male in that regard; we will fit.” Then I groaned at the imagery those thoughts provoked.

We were getting ahead of ourselves—I was, at least. She’d agreed to try to explore a relationship, not share pleasure immediately after we got out.

She might not want to at all once she was free and had more choices.

The thought of her getting to know one of the other males in the cell block, picking one of them to share her bed with, had me fighting back an angry and possessive growl. I didn’t think I could handle seeing her with another male.

Abigail was still blushing, but she was leaning up towards my face, one hand reaching up to curl around the base of one of my horns.

“That’s good to know,” she said, and then she pressed her lips to my cheek.

“Seriously, Ziame, you smell so damn good. How do you do it? I must stink to high heaven after several days without a shower. But you...”

I preened at her compliment but then reassured her, “You smell fantastic to me, honestly, Abigail. Besides, they let us shower after our training sessions at the gym.”

She groaned and thumped her small fist on my pec.

“That’s not fair!” Her mouth made an interesting shape—pouty, full—and it made my cock grow even harder in my loincloth.

It was the sexiest thing, and it made me want to break out of this cell so I could find her the nearest shower.

Then I pictured her soft skin, bare beneath the running water, and I had to stifle another deep groan.

She arched against me, and my thoughts spun, her arousal growing thicker in the air, a soft sigh slipping from her lips. She was grinding her small, soft body against my stiff cock, the pleasure that skated up my spine intense. “Ah, sweet female. You are so perfect.”

Her eyes glittered at me in the dark when she raised her head and shimmied a second time.

Her heat for me made me feel light as a feather, as eager as a youngling in his first rut.

Eavesdropping audience be damned; the impending arrival of the Krektar did not matter—all I wanted was to pleasure her at that moment.

I slid my hand along her spine, curved it over her softly rounded, tailless rear, and when that made her breathing hitch, I pulled her leg over my hip and opened her to me.

“Can you be quiet?” I whispered silkily against the curve of her ear shell, drawing in her scent with a flick of my split tongue to taste all the hints of her sweet arousal.

“Yes,” she stuttered quietly, followed by the tiniest of moans as I shifted my hips and pressed my erection to her core. Clothing was in the way, but I knew I had hit the right spot, stroking my cock against her pleasure center. Her taste grew stronger, sweeter; her breathing turned uneven.

“More?” I asked her, and when she nodded, I started a gentle rhythm of my hips against hers.

My tail curled around us, the tip seeking the edge of her pants to slide in.

She gasped against my chest as the tip found skin, sliding along her rear, between her cheeks, and tracing her entrance.

“This good?” I asked as I stroked the tight ring there gently, then dipped my tail further into her pants to locate her wet core.

“Ziame,” she breathed so quietly that even I could barely hear her, my ears flicking forward to catch the tiniest sounds.

As I flicked the tip of my tail through her wetness, I slid it forward to tease her opening—a hint of penetration—along with the steady stroke of my cock along her folds.

It set her off, her opening clenching around the invading inch of my tail.

She bit me with her blunt teeth, muffling her moan against my scales, and I relished that hint of pain.

I stroked her through the last shudders, only withdrawing my tail when she eased.

Wetness cooled on the tip, and my cock continued to ache for her, but I did not care, focused only on her.

Did she like it? Had I pushed too fast? Her languid smile told me all I needed to know, and I hugged her tighter as warmth spread through my chest. I had pleased my beautiful female. I had done well.