Page 32 of The Thren's Fated

“Yes.”

With a growling noise, he stepped back, giving her fiery hair a caress. After one last look, he moved toward the exit. With the press of an invisible button, the door whooshed open and Screl paused.

“Good night, my pet.”

A moment later, he was gone.

She let out a deep sigh, breathing slowly to calm herself. A chill ran down her spine despite the humidity of the room, and she scrambled to her neatly made bed.

Lena lay on her back and brought the sheet over her chest, continuing to take deep breaths in and out, unable to shake the seed of pleasure that was building. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will it away.

Why the hell was she feeling this way about a monstrous male like Screl?

Before she could think twice, she pressed a hand between her legs, sliding her fingers through the slick wetness at the apex of her thighs. Her body flooded with pleasure, a low moan on her lips as she imagined Screl undressing her like he had just a moment ago.

The sensation of his tentacles as they brushed over her skin, the way his eyes glimmered as he examined her. She pictured him dragging her to the bed, forcing her onto her back and spreading her legs wide. His tentacles brushing over her entrance before filling her cunt like her fingers were currently doing, fucking her until she begged him to stop.

Another moan escaped her as she tried to think of something else, anything else, her body reaching for climax, but all she saw was Screl.

Lena circled her clit rhythmically, each movement bringing her closer and closer to release. She pushed past her confused thoughts as her breaths grew heavy, quiet whimpers rumbling in her throat.

Unbidden images flooded her mind of Screl punishing the men she knew from Earth, the ones from the bar who thought being a customer meant they had free access to touch and grab her, and then laugh about it with their friends afterward.

Greg was the worst of the bunch with the way he had cornered her after the bar had closed one night and pressed kisses to her neck, begging to fuck her and calling her an old bitch when she denied him. Maybe he needed a reminder of what happened to people who touched what didn’t belong to them.

The terrible thoughts made the waves of pleasure come over her quicker than she expected, an explosion of white light dotting her eyes as her whole body pulsated with release.

“Screl,” she moaned, her captor, her savior, the one who would protect her.

Oh, it was glorious, the grand finale after the horror of the day, and she reveled in the aftershocks, finally slowing her fingers to a stop as her breathing returned to normal.

Shame filled her as she closed her eyes, trying to focus on the deep exhaustion washing over her and not the disgraceful thoughts of her violent abductor still whirling through her mind.

INTERLUDE

She will be the death of me. It took everything in my power to leave her room, to see her bared before me and not caress every inch of her flesh. But as I stood in the corridor, I heard her quiet whimpers. Her pheromones are powerful, the scent of rakiram blossoms and earthy cosonise filling me with need. I almost tore down the door, but if I did, I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself. I must overcome my selfish needs, or I might frighten her beyond repair. I could hurt her. I need to be inside her, need her writhing with pleasure underneath me, but she will never forgive me if I hurt her again. I do not know how much more I can take, how much longer I can last, but I tore myself away from her quarters, letting her pleasure herself in peace, knowing she was thinking of me.

CHAPTER 11

Sleep did not come easily, despite the exhaustion thrumming through her bones.

Lena didn’t have her meds, and without whatever drugs Screl had injected her with last night, her fatigue transformed into anxiety.

Eventually, she got out of bed, freshening up with the toiletries someone had left in the bathroom, a human toothbrush and hairbrush, which at least felt like some sense of normalcy.

After pacing around for a long while and trying to calm her mind, she considered skimming through the console, but that would only add to the buzz of electricity coursing through her, and her goal was to stifle whatever strange interest she had in Screl. Especially after all the things he had done in the past day.

Insomnia was nothing new, but after seeing a man’s hands sliced off at the wrist, it was no surprise that she couldn’t sleep.

Every muscle ached with weariness, a headache tightening like a band around her head, but she knew that lying back down would be useless. When she closed her eyes, all she saw was Screl. She imagined his tentacles holding her down and spreading her wide, fantasized about him killing anyone who had harmed her.

Eventually, she put on the navy dress and stomped up to where she knew the door to be, running her hand along the smooth walls to try to find some invisible button or latch, but there was none. She slammed her fist against the non-door, over and over, shouting to whoever might hear.

A moment later, it whirred open to a Thren eyeing her with suspicion.

“Are you alright?”

It wasn’t Dronzal, but appeared to be a larger male. Her sleep duty guard.