Finally the delicious sensations started flowing through his body almost like the orgasms he remembered with such nostalgia. “Oh yeah, my sweet slave,” he muttered, holding her head to his crotch. “Gods, this feels so good.”
* * * * *
“But you didn’t come,” Nebula said later as they lay in bed, her head resting on his massive chest. What had she done wrong?
Conan lifted his head and propped it up on his bionic hand. “I came. You gave me pleasure. Never doubt it.”
“But I should have felt you coming, drunk of your—”
Conan laughed. “My seed? I have none. Why do you think I must wear a eunuch’s robe? Trust me when I say you provided me with pleasure. Pleasure that now takes a form more like yours.”
“Oh.” Nebula didn’t know whether she should believe Conan. Other than testicles, he seemed to have all the attributes of a whole man—
except for his amazing false cock. She looked down at it. Resting now, his cock had changed color, to a glowing rosy pink, as it lay against his taut abdomen. “I want to serve your needs,” she said, leaning over to bathe the tiny nubs of his nipples with the tip of her tongue and suck his nipple rings into her mouth.
“A nd I wish to serve yours.”
If only Nebula still possessed sexual needs! “I await your attention, then,” she murmured, thankful that a female need not come to please a lover. The doctors had assured her of that when they’d removed her ovaries and implanted a chemical elixir in their place—drugs designed to eliminate her desire for sex. Neither they nor she had imagined she might someday find a mate.
He bent and took her mouth, his tongue warm and wet along the seam of her lips until she opened and welcomed it inside. Catching her at the waist, he dragged her atop his muscular body. “Straddle me,” he ordered.
His tongue plumbed her mouth. His chest abraded her nipples and his cock rubbed along the length of her dry slit when he moved beneath her. A year ago she would have been wet for him. Swollen and ready. Ripe. In the silence, she savored the closeness as she mourned the loss of involuntary, animal awareness that had been so much a part of that long-ago adventure in this very hotel with a nameless eunuch sex slave. He hadn’t possessed half the appeal of Conan, her designated mate.
She tried to swallow it, but a sob escaped from her throat.
“What is it, little one?” Conan’s expression hinted at his concern.
“I cannot be a mate to you. I feel nothing. Nothing of what a woman should feel when her lover caresses her.” Suddenly it struck her how accusatory that must have sounded. “It’s not you, Master, but me. When they fixed me, they stole my youth with drugs. I’m as dried-up as an elder long past her breeding years.”
Conan smiled, as though relieved. He grabbed her hand and laid it low on his belly. “Here. Feel this.” It was a little square, barely noticeable to the touch. “What is it?”
“Testosterone. The hormone that drives a man’s desire. Without it, I would have very little if any interest in fucking. I would soon grow as soft as a woman. Before Pak Song prescribed this patch, I had already noticed changes.” Nebula rubbed her finger over the little bit of magic. “A miracle, then.”
“A miracle I will make for you, too, but you must keep it a secret. What I wear has been outlawed on Earth. It is accepted here for free eunuchs and those who service customers in the pleasure palaces. A ccording to Pak Song, distributing its equivalent for sterilized females is an offense punishable by castration or death in nearly every jurisdiction in the galaxy. It is allowed here only by license to the sex emporiums for their female sex slaves.” He stroked her belly, his touch gentle, soothing. “I no longer care about the Federation’s laws. Much of my pleasure comes from pleasuring my partner. I want you able to enjoy my lovemaking as much as I do.” Nebula would like nothing better, but she was skeptical. “How can that happen, Master?”
“I have managed to obtain a supply of the hormone, though you must not ask me how. I will begin by giving you an injection to return your hormone levels to normal. It will make you frantically aroused for a short time. A fterward, you will wear a patch as I do. Over this,” he said, cupping her mound where the hated tattoo proclaimed she bore the mutant gene. “To me, this seems the most fitting place.”
“Yes, Master.” Gods. It was as though he knew her mind and understood the emotional pain she had suffered since the examiners on Earth had marked her as defective. Conan somehow knew what to do and say, to wipe away the years of humiliation she had suffered and give her back her pride.