Page 69 of Starborn Husbands

He’s at the door for several minutes. Guess it’s guarded. He gives an order to whoever’s stationed there, I stroke my cock.

Yeah. Oh yeah. I think about his big hand wrapped around it.

He’s heading back this way. I yank my hand away from my dick.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“It looked like you had a hand on yourself.”

“Itchy nuts. Sue me.” I keep focused on my phone.

He narrows his eyes, but not much he can say to that. He’ll be watching me closely, though. I like a challenge. “If I spank you before the food gets here, will that convince you not to do what I’m sure you’re about to do?”

“Howdareyou accuse me of doing whatever thing it is that you think I’m going to do.”

“Touch your dick, Treyu, and it won’t just be a spanking.”

My mouth drops. “That’s not fair. What else are you planning?”

He shrugs, smirking away. “You don’t want to find out.” He struts his sexy ass toward the large deck just off his room, though, I guess it’s our room now.

It won’t be anything that terrible, will it? But the Gods be damned, the thrill of danger—even if just Zhang’s wrath—went straight to my dick. I don’t agree with his stupid orders. I should get to touch my own appendage if I want to.

Shoving my hand down my pants, I swipe up some of my own juices, which are plentiful at the moment and pull out my cock. Smoothing the excited bead of precum over the sensitive head sends a bolt of pleasure through to my nuts. My head drops back, and I bite my other hand to keep myself quiet.

Zhang better use all that power to drill me like we’re fucking animals. That’s what I picture, his firm ass squeezing, my legs spread, him rocking against my body. I’ll bet his dick is as massive as he is. That’s a pro to this whole sham. I’ll be so well-fucked by my well-endowed husband, I won’t have time for anything else.

Once we’ve broken the seal, he won’t be able to keep his hands off me. I’ll make sure of it.

Stroking my steel shaft faster, I bring myself to the edge and back off before I cum, letting images of Zhang fuel this masturbation session. The man moves like a predator. I used to force myself not to look at him, but I’m marrying the guy, so it’s my right now.

For several long seconds, I bask in the buzz floating through my dick, listening for footsteps. He’s probably staring at the birds or whatever. Zhang’s like that. I pick up my cock again, imagining what it would be like to lick water off his skin and get on my knees to suck on his nuts.

I move my hand quickly over my swollen dick, building a frenzy, fire licking over my insides. Oh Gods … oh Gods …

Heavy footsteps plod toward the bedroom from the deck. Fuck, but at least I have the wherewithal to shove my dick back in my trousers. I’m panting like I’ve just fought off a pack of wild reptilians, but I wasn’t a Guardian for nothing. I force my heart rate to even out and pick up my cellphone-turned-ebook-reader.

Zhang stands at the entrance to the deck with his arms crossed. He analyzes me like he knows what I was up to. Whatever. He can’t prove shit. “You’d better not be thinking about accusing me of anything, Centaurus.”

My gaze goes to his bare feet as he storms to his—no, our—closet. I didn’t know feet were going to be a thing for me. I’m not into feet but seeing his is a scandalous affair. They’re big with square Fred Flintstone toes and chunky soles. While he’s out of view, I take the opportunity to stroke myself again. The game just got all the more exciting. Gonna see if I can get off with him right … here …ngghhh.

My periphery catches a foot, my hand flies out of my pants just as he steps out of the closet with a hairbrush in his hand. He’d better not be thinking about using that on me.

The bed dips, forcing my body to roll toward him. He extends the hairbrush my way. I know what Johnny’s daddy uses those for.

“Brush my hair?” Zhang asks.

I would complain, but it’ll soon be my job to look after him, and I might as well get used to it. Plus, is it weird that I can tell he’s got something on his mind? I can. Abandoning my phone, I kneel up and make my way around his circus-tent-sized body with my cock pressing into the cotton of my pajama pants. If we’re stuck here all day, fuck getting dressed.

“I’m not good at this,” I warn him.

“You’ll do just fine. I decided how I want to protect you.”

“Okay …” Brushing is good. It’ll distract me from this conversation. Orions protect themselves and others. “But hear me good, Centaurus. I’ll never be your Princess Peach.”

He laughs. “As if, but that’s not what I want. Let me take up my sword for you.”