6. Hugo

So much had happened in the last month that it was difficult to wrap my mind around all of it. I’d seen so many things, met so many creatures, that my journal was completely full. When I dreamed, it was of planets with red grass, lavender skies, and mines full of glittery gems so gorgeous they made diamonds on Earth pale in comparison.

I was living a life I never could have imagined—even in my wildest fantasies.

And yet…

Discontent stirred beneath the surface of my skin. It was a seed at first, something small and easily ignored. But as it took root and grew, the difficulty of each day grew with it. It wasn’t Roark’s fault. At least…not intentionally.

I could tell he cared and that was…puzzling.

I’d never really mattered to anyone before I’d met Roark. That should have made me happy—and it did. But it was complicated, navigating the transition from slave to pet as my world changed drastically again.

It wasn’t that he didn’t make me feel safe.

He did, actually.

Roark was protective to the point of frustration.

Especially when we visited actual-real-life-foreign-planets—in space!—and discovered things that I could never have dreamed of. Roark kept me within two feet of him at all times. Which in turn, made the scientist in me riot. Unfortunately, no matter how hard I tugged on my leash, no matter how much I tried to bargain, he refused to ever allow me to stray from his side.

So yeah, safety wasn’t the issue.

I understood that he was looking out for my best interests. Roark had proven to be nothing but serious and kind since the day I met him. But as someone who had always been independent, I hated the way I had no say in my life at all.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that being a pleasure slave was any more dignified than what I was now. But at least back on planet F’ukYuu I wasn’t sleeping on what was essentially a “doggy” bed. I wasn’t dragged around on a leash. I wasn’t pampered like a pedigree Pomeranian and left alone on the ship in Roark’s quarters for hours at a time while my “owner” went to work at his very important job.

I was lucky he didn’t crate-train me, for god’s sake.

I bet he’d view that as “protecting” me too.

Roark had to have experienced something really fucked up to be as paranoid and controlling as he was. And I hurt for him, I really did. But that didn’t make this transition any easier.

I’d had a purpose before. An occupation. A Manager. There was structure in my life on F’ukYuu that was noticeably missing here. I had always known my place, and I’d always known what was expected of me.

Roark was, admittedly, a much better person than The Manager had been. He was kinder, for one. He was gentle . Sometimes too gentle. To the point it was almost cold. Like he was scared to touch me the way he had the day we met. I suppose I could understand that too, as it wasn’t like I’d crossed that line either.

We were both trying to figure out how to navigate this new life together. And it wasn’t his fault that he was having an easier time transitioning than I was. Like a robot, he woke up at exactly the same time every morning—no alarm clock necessary—and went about his day with ruthless efficiency.

I was a blip on his schedule.

Between brushing his teeth—which took forever—disappearing to what I assumed was a gym based on how sweaty he was after, showering, and accepting our breakfast at the door, “pet Hugo” was simply another task on Roark’s to-do list.

It shouldn’t have bothered me the way it did. I knew he made time for me in his life because he cared. Or so I assumed he did, considering he bought me for a shit-ton of money.

But still.

The truth was, I didn’t want to be Roark’s pet.

I wanted him to want me.

And instead, I was stuck in limbo, following him around, waiting for him when he was gone, thinking and dreaming about him—unable to fully enjoy the wonders that made up my new life on the days he brought me with him—because the little part of me that had hopes for the future was starting to die.

When we weren’t out running errands on various planets the only view I was privy to was the stars on our ceiling and the smooth, cold walls of Roark’s rooms. I’d memorized every astronomy poster that decorated their surface ten times over. Sitting alone in the quiet with no stimulation made my brain itch .

What was worse was knowing I currently lived inside an alien spacecraft and did not even know where our food came from. Or where Roark disappeared for most of the day when we were in space.

The monotony was enough to make me feel like I was going crazy.

Everything wasn’t all bad though.

The highlight of my day was the time the nanobots would clean. I’d sit on Roark’s bed—because he was more than often gone at that point—and watch them scurry around the floor like tiny electronic mice. I wasn’t sure how exactly they cleaned, and I was still working up the nerve to snatch one so I could examine it more closely. I wished I had tools to do so. Screwdrivers. Anything that would help occupy my withering mind.

I was sure, if I could leave the room these feelings wouldn’t be festering. And the seed of discontent that had been planted would grow at a slower pace.

Not that I could tell Roark that.

Or anything really.

Language barrier, remember?

We’d been working on that during the hours we spent together after Roark returned to his rooms for dinner every day. We’d started our own version of sign language. Gestures to indicate both good and bad. Hand motions to ask for the bathroom, or the bed. And on top of that, Roark had learned a handful of words in English.

“Bed,” I repeated, for what felt like the hundredth time one night after we’d finished eating the weird cucumber-tasting bark stuff he kept force-feeding me. There were a few hours left before he’d retreat beneath the covers of his bed, the lights would turn off, and I’d be left on my “doggy” bed to rot in silence.

The distance between us felt vast then. Like he was a galaxy away. Like I was even more alone than I’d been when I was a kid, or in my pod on F’ukYuu.

It was hard to think about that though when he was being so goddamn cute and earnest. Sitting there with glasses perched on his nose, his big hands scribbling the word I spoke on his tablet—presumably so he wouldn’t forget.

“Peh-d.” Roark echoed, scribbling away. He had a hard time with Bs in general, but he was getting closer. Each stroke of his pen was deliberate and careful—just like everything he did.

“Bed,” I repeated, slower this time. “B-B-B- eh duh.”

Roark huffed in amusement—or annoyance. I still hadn’t figured out which.

“Pb-ehd.” He tapped the tip of the pen thoughtfully against the table. It was a nervous tick he had—the only one, as far as I’d gathered.

“Yes!” I gave him a double thumbs up and his eyes turned into pleased crescents. “Closer.”

“Pbed.” Roark waited patiently to see if he’d gotten it.

“So close!”

“Bed.” His voice was rough, his teeth razor-sharp and flickering in the light as he sounded out the word again.

“Yes!” Another double thumbs up—and an embarrassing victory lap later—we could officially add another word to Roark’s list.

I’d tried to learn his language too, but both of us had very quickly discovered that my vocal cords were not equipped for the guttural tones most of the words required.

When I’d tried to say the word for “bed” in Roark’s language I’d made him make an adorable barking-laugh sound. There were a couple words I managed more easily, but all of them felt uncomfortable and a little painful. They twanged my vocal cords like my throat was an untuned piano.

Those were the highlights.

Those little shared moments when I felt…normal.

It’d been so long since I’d felt normal.

But unfortunately, as the weeks wore on and my thoughts continued to fester—even those happy little moments couldn’t fix what felt inherently wrong between us. Earlier that day, when we’d been planet-side, Roark had tugged me close by my leash one too many times. Something inside me had finally snapped.

I liked to think that I was a patient person. I’d never had reason to be anything else. But even I had my limits. And if I was being honest, my “freak out” as I was privately calling it in my head, had been long overdue.

Years overdue.

Way before Roark had picked me up and rehomed me.

And way before I’d been abducted and sold.

That was why I’d panicked. Why I’d yelled at him. Why I’d raged. I’d done all the things I’d sworn I’d never do. All the things I thought were scary, and uncomfortable to witness. I’d been angry, loud, and unattractive. My behavior had been nothing but ugly , I knew that. And for that I deserved punishment—or at the very least, retaliation.

But…

Roark hadn’t yelled back.

He hadn’t punished me.

Instead, he’d soothed me.

Again.

Just like the day we met.

He’d given me exactly what I’d been missing, without even needing the words to understand what was wrong.

Only this time was better. Because he’d hugged me.

Hugged me.

Pulled me against his big, solid chest and blocked out my antsy thoughts with his bulk. My frustrations were forgotten the moment he touched me again. Like they’d never been there at all. And the part of me that had been lonely, lonely, lonely for longer than I could remember faded into nothingness.

It was embarrassing to realize that all my complaints were truly just excuses for the one thing I actually wanted from him. And with mortification, I could admit there was nothing I couldn’t forgive if I knew Roark reciprocated my feelings.

It was funny, back home on Earth I’d been the easy kid—upbeat, goody-two-shoes, straight As. I’d gotten a B once and cried all weekend. My teacher had taken pity on me and let me do some extra credit after the semester was over—and that had been that. I’d never given my mom grief, even though she was rarely home. I’d never asked my dad for attention—at least, not after my sixteenth birthday.

I’d done what I was supposed to when I was supposed to.

But now…

Now, with my identity compromised, with everything I’d ever known lost— now was when I’d finally broken. I’d never acted worse than I had then, throwing a tantrum like a toddler. But I couldn’t be angry that I had. Because the peace I felt the second Roark’s muscular pink arms wrapped around me had made everything wrong in my heart bleed away.

Maybe that’s why I’d reacted the way I did.

Why I’d given in.

Why I’d cried.

Why I’d relaxed.

Why I’d let go.

Why I’d rubbed against him, chasing pleasure—his thigh a hard thickness against my aching dick. God, he’d felt good. Those tentacles twisting, tugging, pulling at my nipples, his blue eyes flashing black with what I could only assume was lust. I’d never felt so seen before, like every ounce of his attention was on me.

Like I was fascinating .

Not some loser with no romantic prospects. Not a slave with no rights. Not a man with no future, no home, and no family. Not a pet, saved for entertainment.

Roark made me feel beautiful .

And when he touched me like that…I felt whole.

Pretty, pretty, pretty —the way he’d said I was.

I hadn’t meant to make a mess all over him. I hadn’t meant to come at all, but I had anyway.

And now, nearly an hour later, I was…avoiding him, because what else was I supposed to do? I had never been more confused in my entire life. It felt like we’d taken off again. Like the floor was rising beneath me. Like the stars were ready to swallow me whole. I didn’t know how to face what I’d done, or how he’d react to it now that the moment was over.

So I hid away in my “doggy” bed like a goddamn coward.

I tried to ignore the creak of the bed across the room as Roark returned from his trip to the bathroom, but failed spectacularly. Peeking over the corner of my blanket, I watched his bulky shape settle in the center of the circular mattress on top of the covers.

It wasn’t like the beds I was used to back home. It was round and had a raised lip around the edge that was made up of soft pillow-like cushions. The mattress was also massive . It kinda had to be to accommodate Roark’s bulk. Judging by the weight of his steps, his size, and the heft of the matter he was formed from, he had to easily weigh at least six hundred pounds. Maybe more? It was hard to say. Back home I’d never studied anything made of the same substance he was formed from—so I had no idea what its density was.

I shifted to see better so I could peek at him for a few more seconds. He’s going to notice if you keep looking at him like that , I warned myself. Quickly, I shut my eyes, lying ramrod straight with my head toward the ceiling so he wouldn’t catch me in the act.

Only…I was nothing if not curious, so I peeked again.

Roark shifted on his bed, those thick thighs spreading, the lump of his dick obvious through his thin sleep pants. I licked my lips, my cock twitching sympathetically as I remembered what it felt like to push right against those things. Made me wonder if his surface would grab at my dick the same way it had grabbed my chest if we were naked together.

Roark huffed out a long, sleepy sigh.

My thoughts were far from innocent.

I could still remember the way he’d felt above me, and around me. Could perfectly picture the way he’d grabbed my ass and played with me like I was a toy for the taking. He’d had such a serious expression on his face. Like he had no idea what he was doing—but he was determined to do it anyway. At least…I thought so?

Again, it was hard to read him.

Was he a virgin?

Why was that kinda hot?

I shouldn’t find that hot, should I?

Fuck, okay. Maybe it was best to just admit defeat. Clearly trying to sleep was not working. Not when Roark was like ten feet away and I had the opportunity to ogle his dick through his pants.

I squirmed.

Roark sighed again.

I froze, holding my breath. When he didn’t move, I exhaled, relaxing again before the squirming started up with a vengeance. Flipping over onto my side, I faced him fully, staring him down—all my earlier embarrassment forgotten.

Did he like what we’d done?

That thought plagued me as my skin itched and itched.

Thinking about sex with Roark was the lesser of two evils. If I let my mind wander elsewhere I had no doubt I’d do the thing I’d been dreaming about doing for weeks. I’d break out of our rooms and explore the ship I’d been living inside.

The only thing standing between me and an entire ship of alien tech was a bubblegum-shark and his sleepy sighs. Oh. And the steel door. But I could get through that easily.

I’d memorized the code to the keypad the first day.

Flipping onto my back again, I debated what to do.

Sleep was a no go.

Should I keep staring at Roark’s dick?

Should I break out?

It wasn’t like I was going to actually run away. We were in space, duh . Buuuut maybe while Roark slept I could get a peek at the technology I’d never thought I’d get the chance to see? No leash involved. He wouldn’t even know I’d done it. I could sneak out and back in before he woke and I?—

“Huu-goh,” Roark’s deep growly voice echoed through the silent room. I shivered, all thoughts of leaving snuffed out. The lamp beside Roark’s bed flicked on, illuminating the room in a soft blue light. Slowly, Roark sat up, his eyes all squinty like he was tired. Like I’d been squirming for far longer than I’d realized—keeping him awake.

I couldn’t read the squiggles on the clock on the wall so I had no idea what time it actually was. But they were definitely a different sort of shape than they’d been when I’d first started planning espionage.

“Huu-goh,” Roark murmured again, tsking softly in a disapproving sound. “Huu-goh, tired?”

That was one of the few emotions I’d been able to teach him. A yawning motion and a stretch had been enough to clearly communicate what the word meant when we’d been role-playing teacher and student.

“No,” I threw the blanket off my chest. It pooled around my hips as I sat up to glare at him—irritated with myself all over again. He’d just gotten me off. He’d just hugged me. Why did I still feel so—so—off? And I was taking it out on him. Which was fucking awful. I just…I couldn’t help it. “Hugo is not tired.” I was, actually. I was pretty tired. But…there was just something about him that brought out the inner toddler in me. The parts I usually kept buried. Like I didn’t have to mask what I was feeling when he was around.

Damn, I hadn’t realized I was such a secret brat.

Apparently, Roark could take it though because he remained unfazed by my dramatics. He met them head-on with patience as always. Huffing out a little breath, Roark stared me down from across the room. His teeth were so bright they almost glowed in the dark. His spots were yellow. Which was a color I’d very rarely seen.

Huh.

I wonder what that meant?

After what felt like a thousand years he finally found the words he wanted.

“Huu-goh come,” Roark patted the bed, his eye ridges shifting in a way that almost looked indulgent, like he thought my little tantrum was endearing rather than annoying. Which kinda only made me want to fight back more.

Yeah, right.

I was not going over there.

He waited.

I glared at him.

He frowned. It was kind of a comical expression on his face—considering all the teeth. Almost made him look fucking terrifying—if I hadn’t known he was a giant teddy bear.

“Huu-goh come,” Roark repeated, slower this time. Growlier .

With a sigh, I gathered my blanket and trudged barefoot across the short distance that separated us. Inside me, the “something” that had itched celebrated. The floor was chilly against the pads of my feet. Icy cold. Like it leached the warmth away with every careful step. My heart beat erratically as I stood at the edge of the massive mattress, trying to figure out why I was as elated as I was.

Roark patted the bed again.

I hesitated, but only for a moment.

Apparently Roark had had enough of my shenanigans. Because the next thing I knew he’d wrapped his arm around me and yanked me effortlessly through the air. His body was solid and warm beneath mine, the mattress impossibly soft as my toes brushed against it.

I squawked, more than a little surprised by the manhandling as Roark grumbled to himself and arranged the blankets he hadn’t put on earlier around the both of us. The bed was cushy. Squishy. Comfortable. A bit harder than the bed he’d given me, but nice all the same.

Roark’s thick arm wrapped around my middle. He arranged my limbs using a few slithery little tentacles that erupted from his skin. When I was exactly as he wanted me to be, he pulled me in tight, his hot breath tickling the back of my neck as his half-chubby cock pressed against my ass cheek. It was fucking huge. So big it was hard to believe it was a single dick at all.

I’d been such an asshole today. And I knew he didn’t deserve that—and that I should give him an apology. I wanted to beat myself up about it. Wanted to tear apart every little thing I’d done wrong. But I just…

Christ, he was comfortable. And safe. And—and—I felt…god. For the first time in weeks I felt seen again.

Too tired to care anymore, my eyelids began to droop.

This was the first time Roark had let me into his bed. And something loose within me settled. Like for the first time in my life I was exactly where I was meant to be—with who I was meant to be with.

The festering faded.

My ire melted away.

“Huu-goh,” Roark murmured. It was just my name. I’d heard it a thousand times before. But…I’d never heard it spoken so softly. Like it was a full fucking sentence. Like it meant something to him—like he was…thanking me somehow.

Like Roark was as relieved as I was that things had shifted between us.

Maybe he’d been…lonely too?

Roark stroked that big warm palm down my spine, soothing me like he had earlier, that strange rumbling purr in his throat starting up again. Only this time we were pressed so close together it vibrated my whole body, made my lashes flutter, and my limbs go limp. Like a whole-body massage—damn.

I was asleep in seconds, despite the alien dick pressing against me. Roark didn’t move to get himself off, seemingly content to lie stationary behind me as I rested easily for the first time in three long years.

He pulled me tighter.

He was warm, warm, warm.

I dreamed of galaxies, stars, and tentacles.

Roark never let me go.