Page 7 of Bound By the Alien King

Shocked by her own impulse at the same time as she gave in to it, she widened her knees in the direction of his voice and leaned back so he’d have a better view. This couldn’t have been far different from the angle he’d seen when he’d used his claws to unknot her ribbons, and the thought of him crouching before her with his fangs so close to her most sensitive parts made her cry out, even though she still hadn’t peaked.

He made a small answering sound. Had he been thinking about this, then? About spreading her knees and watching her rub her secret places? Was he touching himself right now?

The friction built under her finger until it was too much. She tipped over the precipice, pleasure spilling through her in a great rush. Her back arched, snapping her head back, and huge hands were suddenly there, supporting her weight and cradling the back of her skull so it didn’t crack on the rocks with her abrupt movements.

When her spasms subsided, and she could speak again, she murmured, “So, is that it?”

Damir’s laugh came without any humor. “Afraid not. Perhaps if I’d seeded you, but as it is, you’ll have to ride it out.”

As though he’d made it happen, a fresh wave of desire licked at her shore. Suddenly, her whole belly felt heated and tight and needy again, desperately needy, like a days-long thirst. She grabbed the nearest thing, his wrist, and ground his hand between her thighs, trying to rub it away. But it did nothing, only made it worse. “What’s happening to me?” she whimpered, though she knew the answer. Unbound, she was weak and wanton, and there was no going back from it.

He grunted with displeasure but let her use his hand like plaything, his arm limp and heavy as she slid his fingers over and through her folds, a sweet tease that didn’t truly satisfy her. She needed him inside, that much was clear even in her fogged brain, and she tugged his fingers lower, arching up into them when they brushed against her opening. He stiffened and pulled his hand away, leaving her choking on her own cries.

“Damir, please,” Aster moaned. “I need you so badly, it hurts.”

“I should never have told you my name,” he bit out. With little effort, he twisted her arms behind her back, his movements as sharp and efficient as hers were erratic. Then he bound her wrists together snugly with what she could only imagine were her own ribbons, as he’d threatened, winding them around and around in a figure-eight, trapping them together.

A scandalous image, her wrists wrapped in ribbons! One that she couldn’t stop turning over in her thoughts. It made her chest ache and her cheeks burn as she struggled to free them. Now she couldn’t touch herself and relieve the painful lance of desire that pierced her. How could he be so cruel?

She needed something, anything, between her thighs. She rolled over and found his knee, capturing it with her legs and shamelessly grinding against it. It felt so hopelessly good, huge and solid enough that she had the preposterous wish to have it inside her. She renewed her angle, chasing her release through a dark warren filled with dead ends. He did nothing, did not even put his hands on her.

“Damir,” she whined, and he stayed silent, unmoving. “I need you to fill me. Please, I’m begging you! I’ll let you do anything you want.”

“You’ll send us both to the salt,” he hissed. He pulled his leg away and rolled her onto her back, holding her shoulders fast to the floor, her ribbon-bound arms pinned beneath her.

“You said you’d help me. You promised.” Nothing from him. Her skin felt like it would peel off any moment, the pressure of her pure want splitting it from inside. And he just watched.

“You are a monster,” she gasped. To her shock, an orgasm rolled through her without any touch, flattening her and shaking her senseless. It went on and on, bursting through every part of her. She was only vaguely conscious that once again, he caught her, cushioning her from harm.

When she regained her wits and her legs stopped kicking, her shoulders ached from the angle of their bondage. Damir lifted her, clasped her tightly to him, and rested his forehead against hers, his breath feathering over her, as though he had come as hard as she had.

Now he held her close, but not when she’d needed him.

“I suppose you enjoyed that. My suffering,” she said, her voice weak and shaky.

“On the contrary. It was excruciating for me in every sense of the word.” This was so much more humiliating than Aster had anticipated. Here she was, naked and bound and begging for her very enemy, and he wouldn’t deign to touch her. Hadn’t even relished her undoing.

Was he so disgusted by her wantonness? From her glimpses of the Revel rutting and the scandalous stories passed behind the fans of the young women in her circle, she’d believed the Nightborn were different than the men she’d always known, the ones who’d lectured her on modesty and the suppression of base desires. But maybe he was equally moral and upright.

“I expected you to be a brute,” she confessed. “I’m sorry for that.”

“Sorry for your thoughts or sorry that I am not one?” he asked tersely. “Because if the former, you should not apologize for what goes on in the privacy of your mind. And if the latter, console yourself. My own thoughts were quite brutish.”

Brutish thoughts? A fresh lash of longing struck her when she realized he had refrained from touching her, not to punish her, but to stop himself. From what, though?

“Tell me of them,” she blurted out.

A sharp laugh. “Why? So you can use them to tempt me? I’m afraid I’m too fond of my resolve to give you any weapon to weaken it.”

“We agreed that resolve is unnecessary, given our circumstances. That’s how I remember it,” Aster panted, twisting her pelvis until she could brush his hard length, despite his obvious efforts to keep it out of her reach. She made a frustrated grunt. “Untie me.”

“I will not.”

“Then seed me and end it,” she begged. “You have no idea the agony I’m in.”

“I warned you. You agreed to this.”

“You made promises, too!” She ended on a wail as her body was wracked with a spasm of craving so intense that it stole her ability to speak. She stopped trying to control her movements as her body disgracefully sought any type of relief, her humiliation complete. Tears stung her eyes, saltier than the sea.