Khiva stepped around her, inhaling a sharp breath for control. Though he’d released her, he still stood close.
For a moment, he simply studied her. Looking at her filled him with a gentle pleasure. It was unexpected. While he thought all of his clients had a beauty about them, never had he wanted to memorize one’s features. But this female…he committed her to memory, from her long, dark wavy hair that tumbled over her shoulder, to her large and round dark eyes, to her pink mouth with a slightly fuller bottom lip.
Evelyn shifted in place and Khiva’s voice came thick and dark when he asked, “Is there anything I can provide for you that would make you more comfortable tonight, Evelyn?”
He heard her swallow and his eyes came to the hollow of her throat, at the delicate skin there the color of rich cream.
Her pink lips quirked in a nervous smile. “Am I that obvious?”
“You have nothing to fear from me,” he purred softly,needingto comfort this female. “I am here to please you, in whatever way you wish.”
Khiva watched as her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips. He felt it like a punch in his gut and his aching cock gave another pulse, his abdomen clenching. The Keriv’i had always possessed higher sex drives in comparison to other races.
It was, perhaps, one of the many reasons why they made excellent whores.
Khiva’s lips tightened, but he pushed the thought away, choosing instead to focus on the female in front of him. When he dragged her scent into his nostrils, she made his mouth water. She smelled…like how the bright western valleys of Kerivu had smelled during the warm season. As a young male, he’d often journeyed there with his mother and brother and they were days of happiness and peace…before the Great War. Before everything changed.
Her voice anchored him when she said softly, “Can I look around?”
A surprised sound rumbled in his chest, but Khiva assumed her odd request was meant as a comfort. Madame Allegria, during their training, had always told them that human females craved feeling safe. Even if they requested darker fantasies of their ‘Kraves,’ as the humans referred to his race as, they still needed to trust their mating partners. That ‘trust’ extended to physical places, or so he assumed. Perhaps human females liked to feel nested and protected.
“Pax,” he said, lifting his chin up. But then he corrected himself. “Yes.”
She seemed to relax at that, her tight shoulders loosening. She turned away to look at the opposite side of the room, walking a few feet towards the fireplace. When Khiva’s eyes tracked the gentle sway of her hips and the way her silk dress caressed her figure as she moved, he almost growled in appreciation.
When it came to his clients at Madame Allegria’s, he knew how to arouse himself for them. Like a switch in his mind, he could become sexually charged if necessary, especially if he had a particularly demanding client for the night.
But with this female…
His cock was already aching for her. Khiva was already picturing what she would look like, her face scrunched in intense pleasure, as he released his cum—histeela—inside her giving body. He was already fantasizing about how long he would keep his cum inside her, how long her orgasm would last before he gave her mercy.
Khiva had a very particular fantasy of restraining a female’s hands and legs to his bed before releasing histeelainside her. And no matter how much she begged, he wouldn’t clean his cum away until it suitedhim.She would thrash in the restraints and experience orgasm after orgasm after orgasm for hours on end. Her body would tremble, her abdomen would clench, and her back would bow. She would be at his mercy, his plaything, to do with whatever he desired.
But of course, Khiva could not act out this fantasy. Not with his clients, whom he had to obey, in everything, which he struggled with always. Keriv’i were not naturally submissive beings, though being one of the Krave, hehadto be.
Of course, there were times when his clients wanted him to be aggressive and dominant, which was freeing. It was a role he enjoyed because it felt the most natural to him, especially during mating and sex.
But as he watched Evelyn, as he studied the gentle curve of her body and the way she curiously inspected the small room, he wondered how she wanted to be mated. Would she want him to be gentle, to mate her softly and slowly? Or would she desire a demanding, rough lover?
He could be both. He could be either.
The room was small, which didn’t give her much to explore. Khiva had not looked at the room with a fresh gaze in quite some time, though he spent his evenings and early mornings there almost every day. Madame Allegria had furnished all the rooms at the brothel and a pair of cleaners came in after every night to launder the bedding and disinfect the furniture.
Khiva wondered what Evelyn thought. Except for a large bed, a fireplace with a black, iron mantel where he burned incense, numerous mirrors, and a cabinet filled with items for erotic play, there wasn’t much to observe.
But the female was inquisitive, it seemed, which made a…lightnessfill his chest. Khiva cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing, trying to discern what it was about her that drew his interest so.
When she stopped to look out the circular window—the only one in the room—to the courtyard below, he found himself approaching her. Her shoulders tensed for a brief moment and Khiva frowned, wanting her to be comfortable in his presence.
“What are you searching for, Evelyn?” he asked, softening his voice so as not to frighten her. He stopped mere inches from her back, but she didn’t turn from the window. Instead, their eyes met in the reflection of the glass and Khiva marveled at how small she was compared to him.
He saw her lick her lips. “I’m buying time, I guess,” she admitted just as softly. “I…I’m surprised I’m here, that I actually came here. And I don’t know…I don’t know what I want from this.”
Khiva’s brow bone shifted upwards. Her honesty was…refreshing. He was so used to his clients pawing at him the moment they stepped through the door, demanding the heat of his body, demanding his seed and the pleasure he could give them. It was why he had always felt like a whore, to be used and nothing more.
And Khiva accepted it. He accepted that every client visit brought him closer to what he truly desired: his freedom. Because his freedom from Madame Allegria’s, from Everton meant he could finally begin to search for his mother and brother, if they still lived.
It had been a long time since Khiva had felt like a male…a male that a female truly desired above what his body could do. And perhaps this female would be the same as the rest eventually…but she wasn’t looking at him like a whore right then. She wasn’t treating him like one.
