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“My cat,” I explain. “His favorite thing to do is put his butt in my face. Hence the name.”
“I see,” Azlan says. “So you are telling me that for the past however long, the only people defending your farm from Growlers have been you and a cat named Buttface.”
“Yes.”
“That explains why they are yet to be repelled,” he says. I stiffen, slightly insulted by that assessment, even if it is one hundred percent accurate and correct. There’s no way I can fight an entire army of Growlers alone. I can take them out in ones and twos, I can lay traps and set up ambushes. I can even arrange for a few of them to be catfished. But I have not been able to eradicate their presence entirely, and I’m starting to lose the battle.
That’s just one battle I’m losing. The other, right now, is the battle not to make a complete fool of myself with Azlan. Being on his lap, feeling his powerful body wrapped around me, I feel myself starting to melt in a new way.
His mane is soft against my face. I could bury myself in it. He makes me feel safe, though he is a predator who could just as easily devour me as anything else.
“Are you ready to discover what your life as my mate will be?”
He purrs the question, and I feel it thrum though me. The answer is yes — after the danger of the auction, the relief of finding him, the alchemy when we touch, I have to know the answer to that question.
“Yes,” I answer softly.
Azlan runs the sharp tip of a claw down the back of my neck and through the collar of my shirt. I feel the material give way, and instantly I sit up, protectively clutching at my clothes.
“Hey! Don’t mess with the overalls. These are vintage family heirlooms.”
He lets out a soft chuckle. “Perhaps you should remove anything you do not want damaged. I am afraid I can be rough at times.” He makes mention of his roughness with no hint of apology. It seems like a promise more than a threat, and it makes me blush to the very roots of my hair. That chemical madness in which I have found myself immersed since our first meeting continues to make my mind function at nothing more than a basic level.
“I don’t want to be damaged,” I whimper softly as I reach for the fasteners of my overalls, knowing that I am undressing myself for the lusts of an alien Leonid.
“I will not damage you,” he reassures me. “But anything that gets in the way of getting to you, that I cannot promise the safety of.”
The threat, such as it is, is delicious.
I am letting myself fall into a new kind of madness. Going to an alien slave auction was entirely out of character for me. Going anywhere was out of character. I almost feel as though I am someone else entirely different now. Someone who lets herself fall into sexual trysts with purchased alien men with dominance complexes.
Azlan offers me a kind of protection I have not felt before. It has been a long time since I sat in the lap of anybody larger than me. This is an entirely different vibe than innocent formative experiences. This is charged with passion, and possibility. I have broken several laws today. Why not break my personal virginal streak as well.
I let the overalls slide from my shoulders. They fall off almost of their own accord, so well-worn they are probably sentient by now.
I almost want to ask him if he is sure he wants me. I feel so small and insignificant, until he nuzzles my bare shoulder with his powerful chin and I realize it doesn’t matter. The more aroused I become, the less little things like reasons and motivations matter. We are animals, and we are following our instincts.
The rest of my clothes soon follow, falling from my body like forest leaves on an autumnal day. I find myself naked in the grasp of a great fanged alien, inspected by his keen golden eyes.
“You are beautiful,” he says. “So soft. So delicate.”
I feel that softness when the rough pelt of his chest rubs against my sensitive nipples as I turn to straddle his lap as best I can. My legs are spread lewdly wide in this position. There is nothing ladylike about it at all. Surrounded by the riches of my Leonid owner, I find myself unable to muster any concern.
Azlan’s clothes perform a similar disappearing trick to mine, and before I know it, I am pressed against the warm yet hard lines of his abdomen, his tongue playing around my chin and neck, lowering with rough, playful rasps to find the more sensitive regions of my breasts.
“Just two,” he murmurs almost to himself, as his tongue rasps lightly against my nipples.
He finds my anatomy fascinating, and I have to admit I am equally as curious about his. We are both inspecting our respective purchases, though there is one part of him I am particularly intrigued by and a little afraid of.
At the base of his abdomen there is a furred sheath, and from that sheath rises a thick, gleaming cock which tapers to a narrower point. It is an instrument designed by nature herself for deep penetration, and I find myself clenching internally at the very sight of it. I notice that unlike a human cock, it is not a dry erection. Instead, it shines with its own natural lubrication, something that will make my deflowering so much easier for my alien mate.
Azlan’s big paws clasp my rear and lift me up so we are eye to eye, and as it happens, so my pussy is hovering directly above the hard rod of his alien cock. He seems to be in no hurry to take me. I see him searching my blushing face for signs of something. I do not know what he wants from me. All I know is what I want from him.Everything.
A lifetime of denial has led me to this wayward, lawless moment, a tryst of alien flesh.
“Once we do this, there is no going back,” he tells me. “The auction will feel like a meaningless formality. When our flesh becomes one, we will become one, do you understand?”
I nod with a little moan. I do not trust myself to speak.
