Page 22 of The White Queen

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Chapter 2

Stretching, purring with each pop of her spine, Quinn wriggled beneath the reclining giant’s arm. Enjoying the familiar weight of the bulging appendage and the way the mattress dipped from Que’s weight, she rolled and found he was awake, watching—expressionless.

Silver eyes set in a face white as snow, his features strongly angled and broad. “When you wake you always wish for me to fuck you.”

Quinn’s fingers slipped forward to trace from the hollow of his throat, between the mass of pectorals, and down the definition of a torso three times the size of hers. “You were gone for seventeen cycles.”

“Do you desire to be fucked now?” The Axirlan queried

again, ignoring her words as they had no real meaning, no point beyond stating facts.

She didn’t answer, continuing to touch, contemplating a body almost as strong as hers.

“Speak, slave girl.”

His taunt drew a wicked laugh from the human.

It had taken years to teach an Axirlan the nuances of sarcasm and humor. Though he may not understand the way another species’ minds emoted, Que did make an effort to play to her nature.

Hand dipping lower, Quinn lifted the weight of his pierced erection. “I believe it might be quite the other way around.”

Before she might blink, he pounced, Axirlan mass grinding caught prey against the bowing mattress. The deep, almost robotic base of his voice rumbled, vibrating through her skin as he said, “I think what you desire is a fight.”

The dyed lavender of her eyes went languid. “I love when you fight me.”

Burrowing his face in her neck, the broad flat of Que’s tongue tasted the soft skin of his momentarily tame paramour. “You are a monster.”

“I know,” she sighed to the ceiling, enjoying the way his teeth found her throat, how he scraped her flesh just enough to sting.

It was her moan that enticed him to claw the softer places of her body, to dig nails in and break skin. Pain subdued her for an instant—long enough for Que to force the woman’s legs apart.

Without preamble, he jammed the beauty of his cock balls deep before the slippery human might try to evade. Rooted, stretching her mercilessly, he left her neck to gnaw a nipple raw.

Crushed under the onslaught, Quinn grinned.

It was more than the rough handling and smell of blood. It was who was hurting her and why.

With strength that would have broken another, the Axirlan growled at the slick milking pull of her cunt greedily devouring his cock despite his aggression. Lost in the craze that made fucking an Axirlan so dangerous for one so small, he roared. Taking her by the neck, muscled arms bunched, the alien reared to watch every last sensation play over her face.

Bliss.

He could see it ripple under her skin, little shockwaves each time one of his piercings breached the slippery flesh of her pussy.

“You will wear my semen tonight when you dance.” It was his right to demand such a thing, and he did so brutishly.

Dyed eyes rolled back into her skull.

He shifted with speed unique to his kind and placed a finger on the metal bar decorating the hood of her clitoris. His mark. One she had accepted years ago. “And I desire to penetrate you where all can see, your legs spread open over my lap, your piercing on display so Swelter might recognize what’s mine.”

She was so close, the whisperings of oblivion crackling like lightning in her bones.

The instant a building climax stole her breath, the female grew vicious.

Grinding joints, she overpowered the large male, manipulating Que’s mass under her violence in a twist of limbs. The savagery in her expression, the abject threat as she began to sink down upon his aching member would have warned any other male to be still and obedient.

That was not Que’s way. That is not what they were.

Muscles shaking in an attempt to indulge his human, he brutally bucked against her hold in search of his own release.


Tags: Addison Cain Dark