Page 31 of The Thren's Fated

Did he force his escorts to cry and scream for him, like they were roleplaying one of his favorite holonovels? Would he make her do that?

As Lena skimmed through a few of the stories, she noticed her pulse quickening and a wetness building between her thighs. If she were alone, she might have thought about touching herself, as foolish as that was in a situation like this, but Dronzal was staring her down like she’d just sprouted a new limb.

The worst part was, the thought of Screl holding her down and taking what he wanted was not as horrifying as it should have been. The way he’d restrained her while he’d kissed her earlier had been just a taste, and it already sent her mind reeling with all manner of wayward thoughts.

She would be powerless against him, something that should be frightening, but instead seemed freeing. A complete surrender to pleasure.

No more overthinking or analyzing, no more worrying whether she was making the right decision to sleep with someone. If he left her afterward, she could rely on the fact that there was nothing she could have done to stop him.

It had been a long day, her core throbbing with need and her mind whirling with erotic ideas, so Lena had been relieved when another Thren had brought dinner, distracting her from the illicit thoughts.

She was just finishing up a quiet meal when the door whooshed open again. But it wasn’t a random Thren coming to collect the empty tray.

Screl.

He glared at Dronzal as he entered.

“I will not need you until tomorrow.”

Dronzal nodded swiftly, gathering the tray and hazarding a glance at Lena before exiting.

Lena wondered if there was more going on here, more than just a simple kidnapping. Screl appeared to be thinking about something, not even acknowledging her as he moved about the room.

Plus, he supposedly had never done this before. There was no denying that she had felt a connection with him since she met him at the club, but that couldn’t possibly be enough reason to commit an interstellar crime.

Finally, he seemed to take notice of her presence, his eyes focused directly on her.

Anxiety pounded through her, a sweat breaking out on her brow as she stood up from her seat, waiting for him to approach.

Screl stalked over, looking every bit like the predator she knew he had the power to be. She backed up until she felt herself pressed against the cool metal of the far wall.

Though fear coursed through her, there was a twinge of something else as well. Something she didn’t want to think about. Something that had started when he’d irreversibly punished a man for touching her—and kissed her afterward—and built all day as she browsed through the steamy holonovels.

That familiar tension filled the air between them as Screl towered over her, eyeing her with an ever-present curiosity. His shoulders slumped, like he was exhausted from something.

Lena didn’t know if he had slept, if Threns even needed to sleep. She jumped slightly when he moved, but relaxed as he cupped her face with his large hand.

“You are mine, Lena,” he said, as if to explain his actions, to explain everything.

She let out a whimper, though not only from fear. She was desperate for his touch, a deep longing warming her body. Screl tangled his tentacles around her, and she trembled, the seed of pleasure growing.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asked, that gravelly voice sending a shiver down her spine.

Why did she want to say ‘yes’? The word danced on the tip of her tongue, but it was the truth. She needed those tongues on hers once more, those warm tentacles caressing her bare body. Still, she resisted. There was no way to know what accepting an invitation like that could lead to.

But maybe that’s what he wanted? For her to resist, just so he could take her by force like all the heroes in the alien erotica stories. The thought frightened her—and aroused her—a sick tension twisting in her stomach. She cursed whatever he had injected her with which forced her to feel this way.

“No,” she said clearly, though the word pained her.

God, she wanted to be fully immersed in him, wrapped up in those tentacles, seeing what was under the casual clothes he always wore.

Lena heard a low grumble from his chest as he grasped handfuls of her skirt. He slowly pulled upwards on the gauzy material, while simultaneously holding her arms above her head with a tentacle. A stifled moan threatened to spill from her lips, the humid air hugging her bare body as he stripped her.

Screl dropped the dress on the ground, restraining her wrists with one large hand. She watched him like a hawk as his eyes roved across her body, passing over the stretch marks on her thighs.

“Are you certain?” he breathed, moving his face close to hers.

They could cut the tension in the air with a knife, but she was strangely comfortable standing completely bare before him. She tried to free her hands, but he held firm.