Enslaved by a Warrior [Sold! 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) by Anitra Lynn McLeod

an alien after all. If Blessed wasn’t his owner, then that would mean the auctioneer was going to pimp Tyler out. For some reason he imagined the tabloid headline would read I was pimped by an alien .
    He looked up at the mirror over the bed and realized it could very well be one-way glass. A camera, or the alien equivalent, could have recorded the whole encounter and telegraphed it live, or maybe there was a huge market for underground alien porn. Although, in that case, it would be Tyler who would be the alien. That would mean his tabloid headline would change to I was an alien porn star .
    Either way, he wasn’t happy with the whole idea of it. Not that it was a moral objection. If people, or aliens, wanted to participate in or buy porn, he didn’t have a problem with that at all. What he had an issue with was the fact he hadn’t been given a choice. And what would this mean when he grew too old to be attractive? Or worse, what if there were aliens out there who found old earthlings sexy? The thought of still sexing up strange creatures when he was geriatric made him feel ill. He was only twenty-six, but just the idea of the next fifty or sixty years stretching before him with one depraved sex act after another with a platoon of strange beings…
    Before he could delve any deeper into those disturbing thoughts, Blessed emerged from the empty room. His cock was relaxed and his strosan was wrapped around it in such a way it made a little pouch. It kind of made him look smooth like a Ken doll.
    Tyler looked up to his face, but Blessed’s gaze was elsewhere. As he entered, the entire room changed color from black to the most hideous shade of orange Tyler had ever seen.
    “What the hell is up with this room?” Tyler figured that was a safer conversation than finding out exactly what had happened between them only moments ago or what would happen between them in the coming moments.
    “It is based on the dominant person’s mood.”
    “And your mood is ugly orange?”
    “Stand.” Blessed retrieved the collar he had taken off.
    Reluctantly, Tyler stood. Unable to read Blessed’s mood the way the room could, he stayed very still, hoping that he wouldn’t anger him or annoy him or whatever the hell he’d done wrong.
    Blessed strode over to him, obviously intent on binding him back up. The collar was inert in his hand, and Tyler figured it wouldn’t start up with the blinking until it was back around his neck. It hadn’t been uncomfortable, but he hoped that he and Blessed had moved past that untrusting stage in their relationship.
    Relationship ? Tyler shook his head. The only kind of liaison they had was one of master and slave. Maybe Tyler’s silly brain had only imagined those moments of interest and intimacy. Perhaps the thing in his brain that helped him interpret language also forced him to see whatever would be best for the alien. In this case, Blessed had wanted Tyler to feel at ease, so he’d allowed him to imagine an emotional closeness that simply wasn’t there.
    “Do not dare to shake your head at me.” Blessed stopped about a foot away from Tyler. His massive fist tightened on the collar.
    “I wasn’t shaking my head at you but at my own stupidity.”
    Blessed’s eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared. “Lift your head.”
    Tyler did as ordered. When Blessed stepped close to put the sleek metal collar around his neck, Tyler quietly asked, “What did I do wrong?”
    “Silence.”
    “I thought we were having a good—”
    “Speak out again and I will strike you.”
    Tyler’s eyes went wide as he closed his mouth. Why in the world was Blessed so angry? Tyler scanned over the events of the last few hours, but he couldn’t think of anything he’d done wrong. Maybe his faux pas was inadvertent. Perhaps he was supposed to warn Blessed before he climaxed so that he could have pulled his strosan away. For all Tyler knew, creaming all over the tip of it might be the most disgusting thing possible