Could it be that she's as affected by the mate bond as I am? From the shitty little look on her face, I can tell some part of her despises me. But maybe there’s some conflict inside her as well.
I scent the musky aroma of her cunt that fills the small shower enclosure, waiting for her answer.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” She releases my arm. “Put me down! You can’t just barge into the bathroom and pick up a naked woman.” She bristles, using her arms to cover her breasts and mound.
So, I drop her.
Not in a way that would hurt her, but enough to knock the wind out of her lungs. She fell only a few inches to the ground.
“Excuse me? What the fuck was that?” she yelps from the shower floor.
She’s flushed red with swollen lips, a side effect of either her orgasm or her anger—either way, I like it. I run my eyes down her body. She is nothing like a fi’len female.
The shock of the fall has her bracing her arms against the floor, and her body is laid bare before me. Marta is luscious and covered with curves. Her breasts, lined with faint pink striations, fall toward her arms as she lies on her back. Her nipples are still hard, and I find my fingers twitching to grab them. My gaze travels down her soft tummy, which I know from our brief contact feels like a cloud. I get one more look at the curious dark curls above her sex before she’s covering her body again.
“Yo, get the fuck out of here!” She curls to a sitting position.
“Next time, keep it down.” I turn heel and walk back to the sitting room. I don’t close the door behind me but hear her scramble to stand and slam it not long after I leave the bathroom.
Both sides of me, my rational one and the part controlled by the mating bond, like toying with Marta.
I won’t pretend as though I expected her to be touching herself when I opened the door—I was sure she was crying again. I think it was the bond that drew me in. Before she slipped, the other side of me wanted to tell her to knock it off. Crying wasn’t going to help her situation any.
I didn’t even think when I saw her footing fumble. I was there in less than a second, and she was in my arms.
It felt f’teeing good, the bond rewarding my close contact with a rush of endorphins.
But the bond wants more…and it will always want more.
I enjoyed watching the little human squirm, and I loved watching her come in my arms—but then, where does that leave me?
I cannot mate a human.
It just won’t work, not with my life, not with the mask I’ve crafted for myself, and not with my goals for the Liin’gan Reefs.
I can’t.
I slump back into my armchair and let my head fall back to view the windows behind me.
The Ocean is my home, the Reefs are where my people belong. I’ve worked so hard to bring fi’len back into the water.
Marta is terrified of the very ocean I call home.
I should send her to the palace, to let her be with her kind, and maybe she can become someone else’s problem.
My stomach riles at the thought, and I have to push the bile back down my throat.If I let her leave the bond will always remind me that I’m one half of a whole. It would be torture to be without her. So for now she stays.
Before I spiral much deeper, Jens’i opens the double doors to the hall, his hands full of a variety of palace uniforms. I arch a brow in his direction.
“Your Grace, it’s clothing forour guest,” he tells me with the most lackluster bow I’ve ever seen. I am but an afterthought as he walks quickly to my bathing chamber. He knocks, and when Marta opens the door enough to peek her head out, my hearts begin to thump wildly.
“I wasn’t sure if the sizing would be right, but I grabbed a few things at hand.” He passes them through the narrow opening.
“Thank you,” Marta whispers before shooting me a death glare.
“My pleasure. If those don’t work, please have His Grace notify me. We can have someone come in for some custom-sized garments shortly.”
She clicks the door shut, and my butler turns back to me.
