Free Terran (Breeder) by Cara Bristol Page B

“How else would you do it?”
    “Well… vaginally .”
    His mouth drooped in distaste. “That is for breeding. And it is not something males enjoy.”
    Marlix had seemed to like it. “But what about the woman’s enjoyment?”
    Urazi laughed. Then he met her gaze and sobered. “Oh. You are being serious.” He lifted a shoulder. “Nature did not endow females with the ability to find pleasure in sexual contact. In fact, it is quite painful for them, and they would avoid it if they could. This is why we do not ask.”
    Outrage on so many different levels swelled, and Tara gaped. Finally she found her voice. “I enjoy sex. When it’s consensual.” She gestured between herself and Urazi. “The way we are conversing…have you ever talked with a woman like this before?”
    He shook his head and shrugged. “I would have nothing to say to a female.”
    “You have plenty to say to me.”
    “You are Terran. You are different.”
    * * * *
    Entering the Bazaar, Marlix headed straight for Tara’s booth. Despite her seeming lack of concern, a sense of urgency drove him to haste. He still could not believe she bled like that every month. He shuddered.
    As he wove through the crowded Bazaar, he treated those who lacked the intelligence or speed to leap out of his way to a glare and growl that would be remembered long after he’d left. He would be wise to avoid attracting attention, but Marlix did not care.
    He found Ramon alone in the booth. His back to the entrance, the male straightened bolts of fabric on their stands. Though Terrans did not differentiate between levels of status or ability, Ramon typified a beta male, his demeanor passive and subservient. Replaying memories of the way he’d held Tara, the urge arose in Marlix to disassemble Ramon limb by limb with every passing second that the insignificant male breathed. But if he killed the man before he spoke to him, he would not get what Tara needed.
    Marlix strode inside.
    Ramon whipped around. Recognition widened his eyes. “You! Where is Tara?” he demanded with more bluster than Marlix would have predicted.
    Ramon would never touch Tara again. He was not worthy. She needed a warrior to protect her, care for her. Only he would hold her, stroke her, bury himself in her receptive body to feel her clench and cry out in ecstasy. He had intended to release her at some point, but Marlix decided now he never would. He would keep her because she belonged to him. She would accept it because she had no choice.
    He ignored Ramon’s question. “Tara sent me.”
    “How is she? If you’ve hurt her…” Though his words withered, they hit their mark.
    Doubts about Tara’s condition assailed Marlix. She hadn’t acted injured. In fact, she had seemed healthy, yet the blood… His manhood was proportionate to his size, and she had been so tight. Despite her protests to the contrary, how could he not have hurt her? No one bled as a matter of course. That did not make sense. The two races couldn’t be that different.
    He should allow her to rejoin her people before he damaged her further.
    At the mere contemplation of separation, bleakness such as he’d never experienced descended, and he knew he could not do it. He would keep her but control himself.
    Monto. It would be a short matter of time before he broke that vow. “I have a missive from Tara.” He unclipped his PCD, called up her message, and handed it to Ramon.
    The male glanced at Marlix, then bent his head over the screen. Marlix spoke only a smattering of Terran and could not read it at all, but still it seemed as though Ramon was taking a long time to peruse what had appeared to be a brief communique. Finally, Ramon raised his head. A small muscle alongside his left eye twitched, and Marlix grew suspicious.
    Ramon handed back the PCD. “I will get you what she needs.”
    “What does the note say?” he demanded.
    Ramon blinked. “She says she is all right, and I should give you her blue bag. Excuse me