However, she is as clingy and as dangerous as a space worm as I return us to the quarters I’ve managed to secure for the time being. Her hands are everywhere, mostly around my waist and pouch.
My cock is harder than ever, but as she is filled with some drug or other, I will not be doing anything about it, save for self-care. My mate might believe she knows what she wants, but once she comes to her senses, I want her to want me for what I didn’t do, rather than what I did.
I brush my lips over hers as we enter the quarters, she moans over my mouth, and for a moment, I very nearly forget myself.
“You require food, my sweet mate.” I place her into the seating area, attempting not to wrinkle my nose at the way it does not fit my Sarkarnii form.
But I have few options available to me.
“I want to eat something,” she says, leaning back against the cushioning and spreading out her arms. “But not food.”
“You will be getting food before you get anything else,” I respond, leaving her to go to the food dispenser.
I dial up a number of dishes. They are limited because you get what you pay for in a place like Xracak City, and I only have a few jewels left. However one of them is my favorite kohebl soup, and I make sure there are two bowls.
Because I can’t recall the last time I ate. All I’ve had recently is ale wine and it was a folly, I know it now.
Once the food is ready, I take it over to Maggie, who is staring out the window, distracted.
“Here. Eat.” I hand her a bowl.
She takes it eagerly and starts eating as I directed. It would appear, on this occasion, the healer was correct.
Not that I minded she wanted me, not at all. But I’d prefer it to be on terms where we are both in control.
I eat my soup, and my stomach, along with the rest of me, is thankful for the fuel. I am also thankful my mate is well enough to eat.
“This is good.” Maggie looks up from her soup. “Spicy.”
“It is one of my favorite dishes,” I reply.
“Sounds about right.” She hitches the corner of her mouth, but there is more clarity to her eyes than before.
“I believe, spitfire, you are the spicy one.” I finish my soup and put down the bowl.
Maggie shrugs. “Not going to deny it.” She slurps up the last of her portion too, setting her bowl aside and stretching her arms over her head.
Her clothing rides up, and I see the little bump where our sarkarnling is in situ. Both an ice and a warmth fill me.
I want everything for my mate, for our sarkarnling, but I don’t know how it can be possible.
“So.” Maggie folds her arms. “What’s the plan?”
“The plan?”
“Yes, the plan. I can’t imagine a Sarkarnii warlord is just going to sit in this grotty flat and stare out at the city for the rest of his days.”
I cannot fault my mate for getting to the heart of the matter.
“There is not much of a plan.”
“Ah, but there is one.” Maggie sits forward.
“It is not one you can participate in, little mate.”
“Fuck that. I’m here, I’m with you,” Maggie says. “So, plan, please.”
I study her face. Her gaze doesn’t waver from mine. I have already drawn her into something she shouldn’t be involved in, but is leaving her here really an option?
