Not that she ever spoke of it that way.
Kiera, practical as always, preferred to say things like,
“Well, this is certainly one way to solve the problem,” or, “You know, if anyone ever asks what kind of research I’m doing out here, I’m absolutely not telling them this.”
But Brux knew it was drawing them closer–bringing her closer to being his mate–and he suspected she did too.
She started watching him more carefully than ever–alert for the first flicker of gold in his eyes or the first roughening in his voice. Whenever she saw it, no matter what they were doing, she would abandon the task at hand and pull him somewhere private to let him taste her.
Sometimes it was behind a stand of chiming trees…sometimes in the bathing suite.
Once, memorably, in an empty equipment shed while a pair of theebles perched outside on a railing and cheerfully repeated, “Good boy! Good boy!” in high, ridiculous voices until Kiera was laughing so hard she nearly cried.
But every time, no matter what else was happening, she let him anchor himself in her.
Gods, she was generous, Brux thought. More generous than he deserved.
She let him watch her in the bathing pool in the evenings too, just as she always had—but now it was different, because now she knew he was watching as a male. And instead of pretending not to notice, she would sometimes glance over her shoulder at him with a small secret smile that made his blood heat at once.
The pool itself had become a special place for them.
At day’s end, after the animals were settled and the fences checked and the work—bots sent to recharge, Kiera would lead him into the warm, misty bathing chamber and shed her clothes without embarrassment. The steam curled around her full, naked curves, making her creamy skin glisten. Her heavy breasts swayed as she moved, her berry—dark nipples already tightening in the humid air.
Brux would follow her into the water eagerly, knowing what she was offering.
The pleasure blooms still grew along the far ledge beneath the trailing branches, crimson and waxy and sinuous. Kiera still used them from time to time, though now she often beckoned Brux to her when she did.
“Come here,” she would murmur, eyes half—lidded and smiling. “If I have to put up with these ridiculous flowers, you can at least help.”
Brux did more than help. He held her…touched her…and watched as the flowers fucked her.
The blooms moved with eerie intelligence, their thick crimson petals unfurling to reveal glistening, nectar—slick filaments. They would wrap around her thighs first, spreading her wide, exposing the sweet, swollen folds of her pussy. Then the sinuous tips of the longer ones would seek her out—one circling her clit with maddening precision and another plunging deep inside her, fucking her with slow, rhythmic thrusts.
Kiera would gasp, her back arching as the flower stretched her…filled her…the slick cylinder of petals thrusting in and out of her pussy.
“Oh, Brux…” she’d moan, her fingers digging into his forearms as she leaned back against his chest. “It’s so deep… feels so good…”
He loved holding her in his arms while the blooms fucked her…loved the sounds she made when she was close…the way her breath hitched, and her moans turned sharp and desperate.
He watched, mesmerized, as pleasure overcame her. Her pussy would clench visibly around the invading bloom, juices dripping down her thighs to mingle with the steaming pool water. Her clit would swell under the relentless teasing, flushed and throbbing, until she came apart in his arms, crying his name.
Sometimes she would arch into the attention of the blooms while his mouth and hands tended to her elsewhere…he loved teasing her tight peaks and whispering hot, dirty words in her ear to make her come even harder.
“That’s it… let it fuck your sweet pussy,” he would growl. “Open your thighs and let it in–love to watch you get fucked, baby…love to see you come.”
And the sight of her—wet and flushed and beautiful beneath the drifting steam and trailing branches, her pussy stretched and spasming around the crimson invader and her full tits heaving as she cried out her release—nearly undid him every time.
It made him so hot Brux thought he might combust from the inside out…but it also steadied him.
There was something about being allowed such closeness, such trust, such profound intimacy, that kept him from slipping into his primal wolf form more than anything else. Those evenings in the bathing pool often carried him all the way through the night without a single slip backward. He could sleep beside her in his humanoid form, wake in it, and hold onto it through the next morning.
As he got better and better at staying bipedal, he began to hope tentatively that perhaps the worst was behind him. Perhaps, with enough time and enough closeness with Kiera, he might yet become stable.
Perhaps the Goddess had not entirely turned her face from him after all.
Then came the day of the birth, when he nearly lost himself entirely…
22
