“Marta, biofilm is safe…just calm down,” I try to explain, but now she’s hyperventilating.
I’m responsible for thousands of subjects in the Liin’gan reefs—but I’ve never been responsible for just one person. I’m sure there’s some better way to go about this, to calm her down, but I don’t know any.
Without warning, my body takes charge and pulls her toward me, leaving her even more startled than before, I’m sure. As I hug her, I realize I’m holding her too tightly and end up lifting her from the ground. Her tiny feet dangle in the air, and she goes rigid.
I walk us back into my room, only to see that the curtains have opened on schedule. They reveal the biofilm windows in my own chambers. I move to the only place I can think of that isn’t exposed to the sea around us and push open the door to my dressing room.
Once we’re within its windowless walls, her breathing slows. The mate bond relishes the intimacy as I hold her in my arms, but suddenly, I see recognition of our close contact flicker in her eyes. Marta gasps, her eyes becoming wide.
“You’re strong,” she says, as if it’s a surprise.
I take that as my cue to set her down. She braces herself against the large island and clutches her fist between her breasts as she tries to get her breathing under control.
“The biofilm is structurally sound, I can assure you of that,” I tell her before grabbing a bottle of thirty-cycle thru’ik reserve and pouring it into a glass. When I reach the cup out to her, she grabs the bottle instead and swigs it back. The blue liquid drips from the corners of her mouth, and when she comes up for air, her eyes seem clearer.
“Got anything stronger?” She doesn’t hand me back the bottle and grabs one of my dressing gowns off a nearby rack, wrapping herself up in it.
“Than thru’ik? Not unless you’re looking to smoke some nebula leaf…which would melt your tiny human brain.” I scoff. “I can get you some more suitable clothing tomorrow…to get you out of that?” I run a finger up and down, gesturing to her obscene ensemble.
The light blue compression garments she wears mold to the dips and curves of her body like a second skin. She’s so different than a fi’len female. She’s so f’teeing short. I towered over her, with the top of her head barely reaching my chest. It’s as though the goddess compensated for her small size by accentuating her curves in ways I never knew could be so alluring.
The line of her sharp chin and graceful neck descend to a pair of soft and enticing breasts. Their size is smaller compared to most humans I’ve seen, but significantly larger than that of a fi’len female. Further down, the strap of the blue body suit tightens around her waist, leaving a faint red impression on her supple tummy. The leg openings of the suit are cut high, showcasing the most stunning set of hips and ass I have ever laid eyes upon. Their expanse seeming so innately of some divine feminine that I have to look away for fear that my cock will harden even more.
I said her outfit was obscene, but I never said I didn’t like it.
“Anything is better than this blue ACE bandage I’m wearing now.” She frowns, walking over to the cryopod. As she runs a finger down the edge of the open door, she asks, “So I was frozen in this thing, and you rescued me?”
“Well, not frozen. You can’t just freeze a living organism and expect its cells not to explode—but yes, you were in cryosleep. Your ship crashed close to here, and I was able to extricate you before the Deenz could take off again.” Extricate sounds so much better than kidnap. I don’t sugarcoat things normally, so why am I doing it now?
“And they want human girls to be space strippers?”
“Yes, that and for the off-world brothels.”
Marta’s face switches from curiosity to disgust as she wrinkles her nose.
“So, out of everything in the universe, somehow human women are the best piece of ass you can nab?” Her tone is incredulous.
“Humans are very desirable to many species. Until recently, we weren’t aware you were kidnapped and drugged to perform. We just assumed human women were naturally more…amorous.”
I’m trying to be polite in my descriptions of her people. Until I saw her, I found human beings to be nothing more than a tax burden. They had never been my taste sexually, save for a few of their more fi’len proportioned women.
“So, do you have the hots for humans, then?” Marta’s voice isn’t playful, and her shoulders are drawn up. She fears how I might answer.
“Humans aren’t my type.” It’s not a lie. Because it’s not humans that are my type, it’s f’teeing Marta. The mating bond balks inside me, trying to stop me from saying what I’m about to. “You aren’t my type.” I swear I feel like I’ve swallowed hot coals when I lie to her face.
Marta breathes a sigh of relief, her posture relaxing. “Good, because I want you to know right now that I’m thankful you rescued me—but don’t expect any thanks beyond the gratitude I just expressed. No matter how amorous you think humans are, I’m not putting out, got it?”
“Putting out?” My translator chip struggles with her phrasing.
“I’m not fucking you, point blank, ever.” The venomous words fall from her lips but are quickly replaced by another swig of thru’ik.
My body recoils at her statement and each fiber of my musculature tenses. I want to scream as the perverse feeling of wrongness lingering between us—to put my arms out and shake her.
She is my mate.
“Noted,” I say as smoothly as I can muster, my nostrils twitching as my jaw sets.
She flops down onto the floor next to the cryopod and leans back against the wall. Her knees are pulled up close to her chest, and my robe’s excess material pools between her thighs.
