I don’t look any different now that I’ve officially become his. Not really.
I’m a bit more tired than usual, but considering how much of my cum he’s consumed over the last week, I’m probably protein-deficient or something.
I wet my hands again, then rake them through my hair in a sorry attempt to look presentable, before wrapping the robe around myself. It leaves literally nothing to the imagination. It’s not even warm.
When I glance back in the mirror, I can see my nipples through it. And my pubes. And definitely my dick.
Fantastic.
It takes a bit of courage for me to venture out, but eventually I find him in the living room, sitting in an oversized chair beside his floor-to-ceiling window. It has a gorgeous view of the town, which only money can buy around here, though I have no idea if the Vyastil actually pay for anything.
He looks softer than usual. His shoulders aren’t as straight and tense, and he’s toying with a long lock of hair that’s come loose from his bun.
He doesn’t look over at me when I approach, but he does hum softly like he’s acknowledging my presence.
“What am I doing here?”
He finally glances over, and his gaze lingers on my chest before he turns it back out the window. “I thought that much was obvious. You slept. It seemed pointless to wake you only to drag you back a few hours later.”
“Drag me ba—dude,” I say, throwing up my hands. “No. I’m fine with being your personal cum bank, but you’re notdraggingme anywhere.”
He huffs and stands, his limbs moving gracefully and fluidly. I take a step back, and he follows, reaching out his long finger to tip my chin up. “I was not being literal.”
How the hell was I supposed to know he discovered metaphors? “Fine, whatever. You still haven’t answered my question. Why am I here?”
“You’re required to sign a new contract if you are to be mine.”
He’s said that before—called me his. I thought it was just him being possessive, but the way he says it now makes me think there’s more to it. More…legal implications.
“What kind of contract?”
“If you wish to be compensated,” he starts, but stops when I choke on my tongue.
“Wait. So…I’m going to get paid?”
He looks somewhat startled at my question. “Did you not tell me you require enough money to live?”
“Yeah, but I have a job,” I remind him. A shitty job, but still. It pays the bills.
Mostly.
“I have seen what you do. I would hardly call that work,” he says. His finger drags along the underside of my chin, and I can’t help but shiver at the way he touches me. “Regardless, a companion contract between us is necessary. For your protection and mine.”
I let out a slow breath and realize this is the government we’re talking about. Right? This has to be some sanctioned position by the higher-ups who agree to let the occasional Vyastil take a human they…
Well, I don’t want to saylike.
Get addicted to?
Possessive over?
“Fine. When do we sign it?”
“Now,” he tells me. “We will go to your City Hall and meet with an overseer. They will explain everything.”
I almost choke on my own tongue. “Uh, hold up. I can’t just go now. I need a shower. And food. And preferably a shitload of coffee because I’m a walking zombie thanks to your fucking herb.”
He eyes me for a beat. “We can delay a few minutes.”
