But when her hands shake, I push them quickly down with the pads of my fingertips. She lets out a quick burst of air before backing up and opening the cracked door frame. It creaks on its ruined hinges, and she tries to close it as delicately as she can once she’s entered the hallway.
As soon as she’s out of sight, I run to the ensuite bathroom and wash my hands—trying desperately to erase any trace of the maid’s scent. My fingertips are raw from the friction of how aggressively I rub soap on my skin.
I know I won’t be able to do anything until I stop the pounding of the head between my legs. Unless my cock finds some relief, I won’t be able to form a plan.
As I slide my blue and throbbing cock from my pants fly, I spit on my length and roughly begin to work my shaft.
The vivid recollection of Marta savoring that single bite fills my mind, and I can still hear her sighing blissfully as her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. The thought of being able to make her feel that good sends shivers down my spine. I could use my toys on her drenched cunt and bring her to the brink of orgasm. I could wring every ounce of pleasure that existed in that lush body.
I imagine how she would preen for me on the bed, how I would hold her hands over her head and hold the vibrator against her most sensitive spots. The weight of her body would push back against me as she arched with pleasure. I would extend her orgasm as long as possible, even if it meant she would eventually beg me to stop.
Her screaming my name would be like music to my ears.
I come, my semen spilling into the sink basin, all the while still imagining Marta’s face.
If I don’t want this, if I don’t want her, why does this feel so good?
As I run the faucet and watch the pale liquid swirl, mixing with the water and eventually down the drain, I want to tell her the truth.
But to what end?
I am the ruler of the Liin’gan Reefs and I champion a return to a more aquatic way of life for my people.
Marta can’t even swim.
I turn to the shower unit and shrug off the rest of my clothing. Once inside, I close the door and activate the warm water from the jets on the walls. I rub my skin harshly, trying to wash away how badly my body screams for Marta.
I won’t let her get the better of me, not after it’s taken so long to craft the mask I wear now.
CHAPTER7
?LITTLE HUMAN, BIG PROBLEM?
?MARTA
“You changed?”I ask the duke.
I tilt my head to the side and look at the disheveled alien standing in the doorway. His clothing is completely different, more formal than his previous robes—incredibly pompous and over the top.
He ignores my question, tugging the lapels of his jacket and straightening its hem. He pulls his shoulders back, letting his head cock to the side, and reveals a slow smile.
It’s as if he’s changed into a different person, or alien,or whatever. The mask his face has become is a clear sign that he’s hiding something from me.
“Never mind that,” he says, eyeing the remains of all the food I just inhaled. “Did you enjoy dinner, little human?”
Little human.
The phrase makes my hair stand on end, a reminder that humans aren't the top of the food chain anymore. Standing on the other side of the empty plates, he’s acting so strangely.
Plates that only I ate from.
“Did you drug me? Poison my food?” I sit up straighter, pushing the balls of my feet against the cool floor, readying myself to run.
“What?” He reaches for me, rolling his eyes, annoyed. “Why would I do that?”
I feint to the right, dodging his touch.
My body, restored by the food I pray to God isn’t drugged, is finally seeing my current situation more clearly.
