“No. This is not an insult. It is a fact. Your ass is round and soft. Like a pillow. Perhaps you should take the stick out…”
“It’s not a stick, dude. It’s a plug.”
I turn around so he can see it, spreading my cheeks slightly just to make sure he really understands. He’s silent, and when I turn my gaze over my shoulder, I see his skin rippling, a soft hum moving through his throat.
“Yeah, you like that stick up my ass. But you can’t have that or my cock until you promise—” I stop myself and then shake my head. “No, youdidpromise, and you’ve been dragging your feet?—”
“The Vyastil soldiers never drag feet. We always walk with purpose.”
“Yes, but I mean, you’ve been putting it off. So I want a written contract.”
His gaze slams into mine. “Written?”
“Yes. I’m going to write out an agreement, and we’re both going to sign it.”
His hum grows low and guttural, but I’m determined. I make my way over to the island, searching for some paper, something to write this damn agreement on. The only thing I find is a receipt and a crayon.
“Where did you get this from?” I ask, waving the small purple crayon in the air.
He doesn’t answer, so I don’t push, just start to scribble something out on that worn piece of paper until I’m satisfied with what I’ve written. Then I hold it up and point to it.
“Care to read it?”
He steps toward me and takes it from my hand, squinting down at it.
“Tomorrow I will take you to Erethar. If I don’t…” His voice trails off, and his lips turn down. “If I don’t, you will not give me cum for two days.”
“Yeah. That’s thirty blow jobs.”
“This is not how the Vyastil negotiate.”
“How do you negotiate?”
“We sit and discuss.”
“Yeah, okay, that’s pretty civilized?—”
“And if we don’t get what we want, then we take it.”
My eyes widen, and I cock my head. “Dude. That’s not cool. Is that what you’re doing over there in Erethar? Just taking shit from people?”
His tail tightens around his thigh. “It is our land.”
I don’t know much about their world, but I don’t like how that sounds. Sounds a little like colonization. “Yeah, that’s what everyone says, but there’s always another side to the story.”
Rathyn’s hum is angry now, and he takes a step toward me. “Why do you always question me?”
“Because someone needs to.”
He reaches out and pulls me into him, his body shuddering as he holds me close. I feel his tail move up and press against my plug, making me groan slightly.
“You are what the Vyastil call vrothul.”
“Yeah, and what’s that?”
“A child of defiance.”
I roll my eyes, and he tilts my head back. “Maybe the Vyastil need a little more defiance in their lives. You seem to always get what you want.”
