“Mmm?”
“You sent pictures of your broken arm to everyone you know last night.”
He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. “I did.”
“A dozen pictures. From multiple angles.”
“It’s a very impressive break.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You’re outrageous.”
“No. I’m proud.” He tips my chin up so I’m looking at him. “My human Bride broke my arm during the claiming chase. Do you know how rare that is, even for a Xylan female? How difficult? My brothers will be telling this story for generations.”
“Aren’t they going to think I’m some kind of violent lunatic?”
“They’re going to think you’re perfect.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Because you are.”
My tablet buzzes again. I reach for it reluctantly, not wanting to leave the warm cocoon of his arms.
It’s a message from an unfamiliar sender, the Costume Ball event committee. I scan the contents, and my eyes widen.
“What is it?” Bayzon asks.
“I won.” I sit up, staring at the screen. “The grand prize. They are reminding me that despite the mist and the fact that they weren’t able to perform a proper prize ceremony, I was still the last one wearing a mask when the clock struck midnight, so I won.”
“Of course you won. You’re my Bride. Winning is what we do.”
I laugh and smack his chest lightly. “The prize is a weeklong luxury cruise of the Nebula. First class. All expenses paid. For me and a guest.”
He raises an eyebrow. “A guest?”
I glance down with a mischievous smirk. “I was thinking of asking this grumpy Xylan I know. He’s kind of broody and intense, but he’s very pretty to look at.”
“Pretty?” He growls, rolling us over so he’s hovering above me, bracing himself on his good arm. “I am not pretty. I am fearsome.”
And now the sheets have slid down and we’re both naked. I can feel his hard cock nudging at my thighs. “You’re pretty,” I insist, grinning up at him. “Pretty…and mine.”
He silences me with a kiss deep that make my toes curl. When he finally pulls back, we’re both breathing hard.
I reach up and brush a thick braid of his soft hair over one of his ears. “You can take vacations, right?” I manage to ask. “Time away from the mine?”
“For my Bride? Yes. After my arm heals, we’ll take your cruise.” He nuzzles into my neck, inhaling deeply. “I will be allowed vacation time for my human honeymoon.”
“I like the sound of that.”
I look down at the healing kit encasing his lower arm. The device hums softly, doing its work of knitting bone back together. He’d been so proud of the injury last night. After the claiming, after we’d both come back to ourselves, he’d insisted on going to the med lab to get it properly treated. He’d spent time, taking pictures of his broken arm and sending them to everyone he knew.
“The doctor says it should be fully healed by tonight,” he says, following my gaze. “Xylan bones mend quickly.”
“Good. Because I have plans for you that require two working arms.”
His eyes darken with interest. “Do you?”
“Mmhmm.” I trail my fingers down his chest, over the ridges of his abs, lower still. He sucks in a breath when I reach my destination. “But for now, I suppose we’ll have to be creative.”
“Creative,” he echoes, his voice strained. “Yes. I can be creative.”
I wrap my hand around his length, thick and hard and already leaking. He groans, his hips jerking forward. My fingers don’t meet around it because he’s bigger than any man I’ve been with before, which I’m certain is why last night it hurt when he plunged inside of me. But I assimilated quickly and soon realized I like big, much more than I’d ever realized.
