“Bodok,” she mumbled, his name bringing butterflies to her belly.
In three days she would see him again, this time in the flesh.
She could hardly wait.
CHAPTERTWENTY
The three days passed painfully slowly for Maureen. She made many trips for her mistress, picking up parcels, delivering gifts to other elites, running whatever errands needed to be taken care of. And each time she left the residence she felt her Infala thrum with anticipation, her heart beating a little bit faster as she scanned the pedestrian masses for a glimpse of her lover.
Bodok was nowhere to be seen.
It’s just three days,she reminded herself over and over each time her hopes met with disappointment, repeating it almost like a mantra, urging patience.You can wait three days.
Unfortunately, her talking with Bodok had apparently made quite an impression with someone other than herself.
Mistress Tormik kept her very busy after her incident, increasing her workload significantly compared to the other servants. Her disapproval of what had happened was sticking to Maureen like cheap perfume, the residual negativity of it lingering like a bad taste in her mouth. The new servant was being punished, no doubt, and much of the additional work added to her already demanding schedule was physical in nature.
As a result, Maureen was utterly exhausted at the end of each day, her labors having drained her completely even with the new runes healing up nicely, delivering their strength to her limbs.
They still itched, of course. Just as any fresh tattoo would. But unlike tattoo inks from Earth, this living alien pigment seemed to speed the healing process as it bonded with her flesh in a true symbiotic relationship. And from what the other servants had told her as they examined the work the Skrizzit had done on her, to their familiar eyes, in human skin it appeared to work even faster.
The morning of the third day Maureen all but leapt out of bed, eager to get started on her to do list. It would be a busy one, no doubt, but the mistress had not changed her original schedule, on top of which she’d added the extra work.
If she really focused and hurried, she could squeeze a little bit of extra time to herself when she set out to the tailor shop to fetch Mistress Tormik’s packages. Precious time she could spend with Bodok.
As noon drew close she moved about the residence with an excited energy, finishing her tasks quickly and in good spirits, a noticeable spring in her step. By the time she exited the building she was all but floating on air as she rushed down the street.
She looked all around, scanning the crowd as she drew close to the tailor shop, looking for the tall, cobalt-blue man in prisoner’s garb. It wasn’t until she had stepped into the building and retrieved her parcels that she saw him.
He was standing across the street, casually leaning against the wall. But there was nothing casual in his gaze. His eyes burned with an intensity of desire she could see even from this distance. Maureen felt her belly grow warm, her Infala tingling slightly, the rune tugging her to finish her business and get down tootherbusiness.
By the time she collected all of Tormik’s items and made her way across the street she could feel her wetness with every step, the sensation so distracting she nearly walked into a porter loaded with boxes.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she swerved around him.
The man just grunted and carried on his way.
“That was close,” Bodok said, taking the parcels from her hands and tucking them under his arm, his fingers drawn slowly across her wrist as he did.
Maureen felt her legs go slightly weak at the contact, her body primed and oh-so ready. He saw the look in her eyes and grinned.
“Come. I have something I wish to show you,” he said with a wicked grin, then turned and began walking, resisting the urge to take her hand. He was a prisoner, after all, and she a servant. Some things simply would not fly in this city. Especially not in public.
He walked quickly, several paces separating them as he wove through the crowd, his bulk clearing the path, leaving an easier way for Maureen to follow. She was acutely aware of their limited time but the feeling of being near him was so heady it pushed aside any fear that might have welled up.
They were together, even if only for a little while, and that made everything all right.
Bodok turned down a side street and again down an alleyway until he arrived at what looked like an old locked storage container. With nimble fingers he cracked opened the door and slid inside. Maureen followed without hesitation.
He closed the door behind her, blocking the sounds of the street from their ears. Two small candles were all the illumination they had. In their mutual lust it was more than enough.
Bodok tossed the packages aside, wrapping her up in his arms and drawing her close, his lips mashing hard against hers, craving her, needing her, unable to get enough of this remarkable woman.
Maureen’s hands grabbed at his clothing, pulling at his trousers until his cock was free, springing from its fabric confinement. She wrapped her fingers around his length, tugging hard, coaxing droplets of pre-cum from his straining member.
Bodok grunted, sliding his hand into her waistband, his fingers diving between her folds, slipping across her clit, coated in her wetness. Her legs trembled at his touch, her grip tightening on his rock-hard cock.
He let out a low growl, his pulse thundering hard in his chest, then abruptly grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, yanking down her bottoms in one motion. He pushed her up against the wall of the container with one hand, bending her forward and opening her pussy wide with the other.
