She sounded disbelieving, as if she never imagined such a thing could be possible.
“The bond is as important as any other bond. It’s simply the moment of inception we do not celebrate. We’re blessed to experience this bond but we only see fit to celebrate it after fifty or so years.”
“FIFTY YEARS?!”
She paused considering it, “HOW OLD ARE YOU?”
“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a gentleman his age?”
She wasn’t having my sense of humor. She grew somber.
“You warned me there were risks. You could have been more specific.”
“I didn’t think to do so. My apologies, sweetling.”
I wanted to go to her, but she continued to pace, mad as an ice beetle in summer.
“I don’t know if I have what it takes to be married! I neverwantedmarriage. I just wanted to be free from men and free from being owned for a while.”
“I do not own you, Jessica.”
“Yes, you do. If I’m your wife, now we’re bound together. Where I go, you go, and vice versa. All my choices, all my decisions, all my hopes and dreams have to go through what you want.”
She must have detected the puzzled expression on my face because she let out an exasperated sigh.
“None of that is true, sweetling. I’m an old man compared to you, I’ve seen many rotations around our star and I have no need to own your soul to be with you…to be faithful to you… to be yours. You should go where you please. You shall live however you want to live. And once our child is born, you will not be alone with him. I take my role as your mate seriously.”
I took her hand and kissed it.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she whispered, “what if you take it so seriously, and I screw up…”
“Shhh,” I whispered, kissing the top of her forehead and pushing her hair out of her face.
My sweetling. My spitfire. A tiny bundle so soft and sweet on her exterior, yet as tough as a Devoran female. She felt the bond the first time we connected. She had to know that I wouldn’t leave.
“You will not screw up. I know you won’t.”
“How can you be sure?” She whispered.
“Because we are bonded.”
I pressed my forehead to hers once again. Her mind opened to me easily. She was ready and willing there as if I was touching her in the real world too. I caressed her body and she trembled.
“Your hands aren’t touching mine,” she whispered.
Her thoughts and words echoed throughout my head.
>
She fell into a lull, entranced by the euphoria of my caress, where I stroked her mind and then her body responded to my tenderness. I gripped her hips, enjoying her flesh spilling between my fingers. Her high cheekbones, and her brown, tropical eyes where I’d only known women to have yellow, entranced me. I was aware of every shade of olive in her skin, every black speck in her brown eye, every lash that grazed my skin as her face lay close to mine.
My arousal heightened. Touching her could only last so long. She was still unaccustomed to telepathic connection like this. I pulled away and she gasped for breath. Her chest fluttered. I kissed her again, properly. She kissed back, long and hard, thrusting her tongue between the prongs of my one and sliding her lips gently over mine.
“Come to bed, space man,” she whispered.
I followed her into bed, stripped her clothes off and admired her nude body. Gooseflesh prickled across her skin and her nipples stood hard at attention and bounced as she pranced overto our bed. She’d come to accept the idea that she was my mate quickly, even faster than I’d expected.
Before dinner, I had to have her one more time, had to hold her and consummate my promise that I’d keep her safe. She was soft and wet, eager for me to slide between her legs as usual. I teased her arousal and made her cum all over my tongues four times before I readied my rigid staves to enter her. She spread her legs wide, positioning her tiny body on all fours as I edged my way between her thighs.
