“Remember the old saying. It’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich creep as a poor creep,” Dorcas said helpfully.
“Nobody says that, and it doesn’t even make sense. Allison, the Eeplings are eating the pillows off that chair – could you maybe tell them to stop? Or not, whatever.”
Violet followed Dorcas out of the room and through a maze of hallways until they reached what looked like a gym set up for sparring. There was a boxing ring, scarred and battered mannequins dangling from the ceiling, and mats on the floor.
Treffon was there, stripped to the waist and violently punching a mannequin.
Violet’s breath caught at the sight of him. She sent a ferocious command to her knees not to give way. Her suggestions to other body parts went unheeded as her nipples furled into painfully hard buds against the fabric of her shirt and a delicious ache started in her pussy and sent tingles of longing out along her nerve endings.
Treffon glistened with sweat, his muscles moving smoothly under his caramel-colored skin with each heavy blow. His biceps bunched and flexed as his big fists set the mannequin swinging. Violet’s eyes wandered from his broad, muscular chest, down over a sinfully toned stomach to the tantalizing peek of hair that trailed below the waistband of his leggings. She could see the thick, heavy outline of his cock nestled between his strong thighs, and she stifled a whimper at the thought of him hard and erect, pushing his way into her slick channel.
Treffon spun on one foot, hitting the mannequin with a roundhouse kick so powerful that the chain holding the mannequin broke, and the dummy went flying across the room and skidded bonelessly into a corner. A robot voice emanated from the dummy, yelling, “Fatal blow!”
Violet’s eyes lingered on the strong sweep of Treffon’s spine and the tight globes of his frankly magnificent ass. Her panties were soaking wet. When he turned back again, grinning, color flushed her cheeks as she wondered if he could tell.
Treffon looked questioningly at Zura and Violet.
“You asked me to come here?” Violet tried to sound casual, but her voice came out in a high-pitched squeak.
“I did?” Treffon grabbed a folded towel from a shelf and blotted his forehead.
She glanced at Zura in confusion. “Zura said…”
Zura smiled. “Well, I may have misspoken a tiny bit, but I am sure that Treffon will approve. I thought that, since someone is trying to kill you, Treffon could teach you some basic self-defense moves,” she said.
Treffon gave Zura an annoyed look. “And you told her that I asked to see her. Because you are trying to be a match-maker. So now you are a schemer? You are your father’s cub after all.”
Zura clapped her hand to her chest as if mortally wounded. “Cousin, I would prefer that you would just stab me. It would pain me less. I am so very hurt that I must leave immediately so I may cry in private.” She turned her back and stalked off.
“You have never shed a tear in your life,” Treffon called after her as she hurried out of the room, dry-eyed and smiling smugly to herself.
“I’m sorry I interrupted you,” Violet said to Treffon. “I imagine you’re very busy. I’ll just go back to my room. If someone can help me find it.”
He tossed the sweaty towel into a basket. “No, no, she actually makes a good point. All Vulfan females start their self-defense training when they are cubs – just like the males. If you have not yet learned how to defend yourself, it is high time you started.”
He walked towards her, and she stood rooted to the spot where she stood. She was supposed to wrestle with Thorolf, squirming under his muscular, sweaty body, without making a total fool of herself?
She bit back a moan at the thought.
What kind of sadist was Zura, anyway?
“Treffon, it’s probably a lost cause. Remember the night I met you?”
His eyes gleamed and his lips curled in a devastatingly sexy smile. “Yes, I remember it very well.” He was so close he was practically pressing up against her. And he smelledso good. His damp skin gave off a scent that made her want to press her face against his broad chest and lick his flesh. Her heart tripped erratically beneath her ribs. It was probably pheromones or something, right? Or an aphrodisiac – some sort of alien love potion. Nobodysmelledsexy. Except Treffon did – musky and masculine and delicious.
She blushed. “Remember that I spilled a drink on you? That’s just me, all the time. I’m really clumsy.”
“I will be the judge of that. You are going to fight me, now.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “No, I’m not.”
“By the way,” Treffon said, “I have been wondering. I am always looking for an opportunity to turn a profit. How much do you think Eepling pelts would fetch on the open market?”
“What?” she shrieked. “You bastard!” She tried to punch him, but he easily parried her blow. Then she realized that he’d just provoked her on purpose, which made her even angrier.
“Very good,” he said approvingly. “We just need to teach you to hit about twenty times harder and a hundred times faster.”
“You want me to hit hard? I’ll show you hard!” She drew back her fist to punch him again, then realized what she’d just said and took a step backwards, her entire face bright red with embarrassment now.
