“Matara, place your hands behind your back. Lace your fingers together and leave them there,” he told her.
She looked down at him, hesitating. A crease appeared between her brows as she contemplated defying him.
He raised an eyebrow at her. Amusement at her willfulness made him smile, but he kept his tone firm to let her know he was serious. “Will I have to put you over my knee for a spanking, naughty girl?” he asked softly.
Her eyes widened, and Ospar could almost hear her thoughts as she debated whether or not he would do such a thing. Her scent strengthened, and the Dramok felt a surge of passion. She found the idea enticing, did she? Discipline would have to be handled carefully given the past abuse suffered at her Earther husband’s hands, but Ospar was delighted to know it might be something she could learn to enjoy. Iris deserved the opportunity to know all the pleasures of putting herself completely in the clan’s hands.
After a long beat, Iris untangled her fingers from his scalp. She put her hands behind her back.
“Much better,” Ospar said, giving her as much approval as he could. Her face softened with quiet, hopeful joy. The expression stabbed his chest.
Little Iris, you are enslaving me with every passing moment, he thought.
He sighed and went back to mouthing her breasts. He set his rough tongue against her nipple first, licking all around it, whipping against it, making it red and hard and swollen. Then he did the same with the other one, working the flesh until it was engorged to his satisfaction. While he enjoyed Iris’ flesh, she moaned and shuddered under the attention.
Time to step it up, Ospar decided. He sucked as much of one breast as he could fit into his mouth, letting his teeth scrape her tender flesh. Iris cried out in reaction and thrust forward, as if to make him take more.
Ospar withdrew, sucking hard on her breast as he released her. At the end, he nipped the jutting point to make her cry out again. Her aroma was a drowning sweetness all around him.
Her other breast received the same treatment. Iris’ every breath ended in a whimper and the Dramok felt the gallop of her pulse against his tongue.
Ospar loosened his grip on Iris, letting her slide down his body to her feet. Her knees buckled as she landed, sending her tumbling backwards. Jol and Rivek were there to catch her, and she blinked up at them as if she’d forgotten they were in the room. Perhaps she had. Her eyes had that glazed, dreamy look again.
Ospar let his clanmates support her as he tugged her boots off. Then he peeled her pants away, taking her panties with them. Her sweet, hairless pussy was there, wetness glistening from the darker pink of her slit.
The Dramok tossed the last of her clothing aside. Then he cupped her mound, feeling how slippery, how hot she was. Held up by Jol and Rivek, Iris groaned at his touch and writhed against his rubbing fingers.
“Who does this belong to, Iris?” he asked.
“You, my Dramok,” she panted.