Pretty Human

by Dixon, Ruby

  “You are my companion—”

  I exhale the breath I’ve been holding, because he’s still not listening. “You need to get rid of me, Varrik—”

  “Never.”

  The word is so vehement it startles me into silence. I stare at him in surprise and see that his tail is flicking under his robes and his hands are clenched at his sides.

  “You’re not going to make a single alliance with me here, Varrik. They don’t like me—”

  “I don’t give a kef what they like.”

  And I blink again, because that’s the first time I’ve heard him cuss. He’s losing his cool, and underneath that solemn robe, he looks as if he’s practically bristling with anger. Not at me—at the others.

  It’s so stinkin’ sweet that I can’t help but take a step closer, utterly drawn to him.

  “If anyone tries to take you from me,” he begins, voice all growly with possessiveness, and it sends another shiver through me.

  “No one’s taking me from you,” I say, and then because I can’t stand another moment of this sexual tension, I fling myself at him, launching myself into the air.

  He catches me. Of course he does. He’s enormous and strong, and I’m a dainty flower next to him. It’s awesome, but that’s not why I have a crush on him. It’s because he needs me so badly. He needs joy in his life, and I plan on providing it.

  Also? He needs to be kissed, bad.

  So I fling my arms around his neck and press my mouth to his.

  Varrik goes completely still against me. He doesn’t kiss me back, and when I lift my head, he makes an agonized groan I’ve never heard from him before. “You just broke several sanitary laws, Milly.”

  “Sorry not sorry,” I say breathlessly. “I’ve been wanting to do that for forever. Human custom. Are you offended?”

  “No.”

  “Should I stop?”

  “Kef no,” he breathes, and then his mouth is on mine again.

  Just hearing him cuss makes me wet. I moan against his mouth, loving the hard sweep of his closed lips against mine. It’s oddly sexy because it’s so unskilled—he doesn’t know how to kiss but he just wants to touch me and it’s amazing.

  “Lower us to the bed,” I whisper against his mouth, nipping at his lower lip.

  He groans again, and then our bodies shift. A split second later, my back is on the mattress and he’s looming over me, dark hair spilling around us like a curtain. I hold his chin with my fingers and carefully angle my mouth over his.

  “Let me show you how you kiss a girl,” I murmur, and slick my tongue into his parted mouth. I taste him, and he tastes sweet, like breakfast, and when his tongue flicks against mine, I can feel the ridges there. Oh, mercy. The kiss deepens, and then we’re lost in each other, him learning how to kiss me with every deep, questing stroke of his tongue, and me just trying to remember to breathe between kisses, because he’s so good at this instantly that it makes me lose all rational thought.

  I was supposed to be the one kissing him, but it’s obvious that all he needed was a suggestion, because he’s taken over the kiss completely and is busy rocking my world. This time, when he drags his tongue against mine, I’m the one moaning. When his big hand slides to cup my breast, I whimper and arch against him.

  “Tell me you want me,” Varrik murmurs against my mouth. “Tell me you want me to take these clothes off of you and taste between your thighs. Tell me you want to be mine in all ways.”

  I suck in a breath, pulling away when he tries to kiss me again. “I’m already yours in all ways. I’m your slave, remember?”

  Varrik sits up, his hard, kiss-wet mouth frowning down at me. I want nothing more than to drag him against me again, tease the frustration from his face. But if I do…I’m digging my own grave. “Are you telling me you don’t want this between us?”

  “I do,” I pant. God, do I ever. I’ve been lusting after it for what seems like forever. “But we can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s the power imbalance.” I shake my head. “It just…feels weird. I’m sorry. Even if we go forward, there’s always going to be this weird little spot in my mind that’s going to tell me I can’t refuse because I belong to you. Because I’m property.”

  Varrik traces a finger along my jaw, staring down at me for so long that I worry I’ve offended him. “If I free you,” he murmurs, “you are worse off, Milly. Trust me. Confiscated humans are made to disappear, sent away to backwater planets where the government doesn’t have to deal with the situation. I can’t free you and let that happen to you, not when it’s my duty as your male to protect you.”

  He’s mine? I smile at him, warm at the thought. “So what do we do?”

  “On your world, how would we become equals? Mates?”

  “Mates?” I laugh. “You’d have to marry me or something.”

  Varrik thinks for a moment and then stands up. Before I can ask what he’s doing, he turns and leaves the room.

  5

  VARRIK

  Mates. Marriage.

  Of course. The answer is a simple one…and woefully complex with its ramifications.

  I want my sweet Milly. I’ve wanted her from the first moment I saw her, and it’s turned into the most pleasant, delicious ache of need as the days have passed. I love her spirit, her vibrant personality, how she says outrageous things to try to get me to smile. I love her fearlessness and how she wants to protect my reputation.

  Get rid of her? I’d sooner rid myself of this entire planet and its simpering nobility.

  Marriage is the answer. Most of my people don’t have official ceremonies anymore—matings are simply sanctioned on a few legal documents. The older families like mine sometimes have extended parties and festivities to celebrate a union, but we no longer call it “marriage.”

  The other noble houses will shun me if I mate a human. I’ll be a pariah, no longer welcomed in polite circles here on Homeworld. My political connections will die and take down anyone associated with me.

  The thought makes me smile.

  How long has it been since I’ve enjoyed this life? How long since I’ve looked at any sort of party or meeting with anything but apathy? Milly has brought joy into my world, and if she needs marriage to feel safe with me, then marriage is what she will get.

  It will mean leaving Homeworld behind. It will mean leaving society and galas and these endless robe changes behind. It will mean self-imposed exile on one of my many remote estates, and my family name will be whispered with scorn.

  It will mean Milly in my arms every night. Milly’s smiles over breakfast. Milly’s hot mouth on mine, spurning all sanitary laws.

  The choice is obvious.

  I’m barely down the hall before Aldar is rushing to meet me. “My lord?” he asks, a question in his gaze. “You are not dressed for the party. Your hair. Your boots—”

  “Find me a priest of the old gods,” I say to him. “This estate has one, do they not?” Most of the oldest families still retain a chapel on site, but like many things, they are for lip service more than devotion.

  “I…of course. Is there a problem?”

  “No. Bring him to my quarters immediately.”

  Aldar opens his mouth to argue, and I glare at him. He snaps it shut without a word of protest, nods and bows, and then races off.

  I turn around to go back to my rooms, and once there, shut the door behind me. Milly’s still on the bed, her red hair disheveled and wild around her face. Her mouth is bright pink and slightly swollen from kissing, and it makes me want to go and claim her all over again.

  I smile.

  Her eyes widen in shock. “Varrik? What are you smiling about? What’s wrong?”

  “Aldar has gone to get a priest,” I say, heading toward the closet of gowns I’ve had made for her over the last several weeks. Most of them are emblazoned with my house symbol and her status, and I don’t know if I want her wearing something that declares her property in that way. “What gown do
you want to be married in? The one I first saw you in? It has no symbols on it.”

  “What?”

  “Do you not like that one?” I ask, turning to her. “Is it inappropriate for a human marriage?”

  She gets up off the bed and races to my side, her brows going up. “You’re serious? You want to get married?”

  “I would not lie about such a thing.”

  “Varrik!” Instead of looking pleased, Milly puts her hands to her smooth, hornless brow, so different from mine. “You can’t do this. It’s such a bad idea.”

  “It is not a bad idea at all,” I say, and take her hands from her forehead. “Do you not wish to marry me, my pretty human? To be my mate? Is this not what you want?”

  Her mouth opens and she makes a small sound of protest. “Varrik…it’s wonderful for me but awful for you.”

  “No,” I correct gently. “It is wonderful for me, too. I get you in my life, forever.” I smile broadly. “As equals.”

  Milly’s expression is wary. “Your people will hate it.”

  “As if I care what they want. I’ve played their games for far too long already.”

  “Varrik, they’ll say such awful things about you.” She tugs on her hands, trying to free them from my grip. “They’re already saying terrible things. This will just be worse—”

  “It will be the ruin of me,” I agree. “I won’t be accepted into polite society any longer, but I find I grow very weary of such things. I like the idea of retiring to somewhere quiet, with real gardens instead of this.” I lift my chin, indicating the city sprawl that extends beyond Lady dra’Niiron’s small patch of greenery. “In fact, I have a pastoral estate that I’m quite fond of. Would you like to go live there?”

  “A farm? What’s it called?”

  “Risda III.”

  Milly blinks, and then a small, charming giggle escapes her. “Your farm is an entire planet?”

  I love the sound of her pleasure. I think I will make it my goal to hear that bright, sweet laugh every day for the rest of my life. I smile back at her. “It is an outer rim planet, very remote. It’s not that exciting, but it has lovely skies and a serene view. And wildlife. Do you like birds?”

  Her expression grows wistful. “I love birds. And I love the thought of moving to a farm planet with you. But…Varrik, are you sure this is what you want?”

  “I am very sure,” I tell her, releasing one hand to lightly caress her cheek. “I have wanted nothing but you since the moment I first laid eyes on you. Retiring to the outer rim with you in my arms for the rest of my days sounds like a dream. I can imagine no place I’d rather be.” I think for a moment, and then add, “It’s certainly not my dream to spend more time here at Lady dra’Niiron’s endless party.”

  She sighs. “Oh good, because this is the worst party ever.”

  “They’re all like this. Now you see why I wish to escape?” When she chuckles, I lift her small hand to my lips and brush my mouth over her delicate fingers. “Will you marry me and be the odd alien bride to this scandalous, debauched lord?”

  Her smile is brilliant. “Of course I will.”

  * * *

  A short time later, Milly is in her iridescent dress, her feet bare as she stands across from me and holds my hands. She wants to be joined to me in the first way we met, and her eyes glow with happiness as she smiles at me. The priest marries us, and then legal document after legal document is signed. I have people to do most of these things, but my personal advisor is unavailable at the moment due to the odd hours.

  He’s in for a treat when he gets into his office and finds out I’ve married a human and run off to Risda III.

  Before the news can get out to the rest of Lady dra’Niiron’s guests, we pack our things and leave in my air-cruiser, heading for my personal ship. My servants say nothing—they’re too polite and too well-trained for such things, but I can tell they don’t know what to think.

  I don’t care what they think, as long as they treat Milly with respect. She’s now Lady va’Rin, married to the first in his house. Even if she’s human, she’s now nobility through me and outranks most of intergalactic society. Even with a stained reputation, she’ll command respect.

  This pleases me.

  Milly enters the cruiser, her skirts in her hands as she follows behind Nima, one of my house attendants. They talk of human traditions, and Nima smiles hesitantly at my bride, laughing at something she says, and then Milly smiles, too.

  I think I shall give Nima a promotion, just for being kind to her. Set an example with the other servants that the way to success is to please my bride and cater to her every wish. I like this thought. The pilot of my ship stops me before I can follow my new mate into our private chambers, and we discuss the quickest route to Risda III before deciding on a course. It will take weeks to arrive, but I’m in no hurry.

  My personal starship might be small, but it’s luxurious, and I get to spend that time with my mate. As far as I’m concerned, we can take as long as we like.

  When everyone is boarded, a note sent to Ahiri thanking her for her “hospitality” and sending my excuses for leaving so quickly, we cruise away from the spaceport and out of the Homeworld atmosphere. There will be legal loopholes to close and palms to grease, and the messages are already starting to roll into my private communications server. Even though I’ve protected Milly with my name, she’s still an alien from a Class D planet. I can smooth things over, but it will take time and money.

  Good thing I have people to handle such problems on my behalf. I’ll give them raises, too, just as long as I’m left in peace with my mate.

  Thinking of Milly fills me with a brimming eagerness and a hunger in my body. My cock has been hard for hours, because just knowing she’ll be mine in a short time is driving me wild with lust. In the private quarters of my ship, she’s waiting for me. She’s going to put her hot, wet, scandalous human mouth on mine again and lick my tongue and make those sweet little groans of pleasure.

  I can’t wait. I’m aching to claim her, and so I school my features into my best “unapproachable” expression and head for my chambers. Staff—both personal and ship—scuttle out of my way, and no one disturbs me. Good. I make it to my personal chambers unaccosted, place my palm on the keylock, and wait for the door to open.

  Milly stands there with Nima, wearing nothing but a completely sheer gown. Her soft, curling red hair is pulled up into a messy knot atop her head and little tendrils graze her pale neck. Nima bows at the sight of me and then murmurs something to Milly, bowing to her and then leaving the room quickly.

  We say nothing as Nima leaves, the door sliding shut behind her. I devour the sight of my mate instead. The gown she wears leaves nothing to the imagination—I can see her pale pink nipples, the swells of her lovely breasts, the tuft of red hair between her legs, and her rounded hips.

  “She’s nice,” Milly says once the door closes and we’re alone. “I thought she’d be awful to me, but she was really nice.” She smiles at me and does a turn on one foot, twirling. “Like my gown? It’s supposed to have a slip underneath it, but I had Nima remove it so I could wear something sexy for our wedding night.”

  “It is…breathtaking.” I’ve never seen anything as lovely as her.

  Milly fidgets in front of me, toying with a bit of the material. “You’re not tricking me, are you, Varrik? You’re not busting my balls about this? It isn’t a ploy, right?”

  I frown at her words, because I’m not entirely sure what she means. “How can I bust balls you do not have?”

  “I mean you’re teasing me.” She looks so uncertain, so hesitant. “I keep thinking this is too good to be true.”

  I would never do such a thing to her. Does she need reassurance that I want her? Can’t live without her? “Did you know that you were supposed to be a gift for another lord?” I say as I approach her.

  Her eyes widen.

  “Lady dra’Niiron was showing off the exotic “toy” she got for another l
ord, but I took one look at you and lost my heart. I had to have you. Wanted to see your smile, to hear your laughter, to breathe in your scent from the first moment I saw you. I didn’t care that she thought I was embarrassing myself or that you were another species. All I wanted was you.” I move to her side and cup her delicate face in my hands. “And now no one can ever take you from me.”

  Her hands touch mine, and she smiles up at me. “Is it strange to be happy with an alien?”

  “You tell me.”

  Milly laughs again, the sound beautiful and sweet. She turns her head and presses her mouth to the heel of my palm, nipping at it with her teeth. “Is it strange to be completely and utterly turned on by a big blue man who wears nothing but robes that hide all his delicious muscles?”

  “Not strange at all. I am sure whoever this man is, he doesn’t need ostentatious clothing to hide his pleasing form.” I like that she finds me attractive, though I’m equally amused she finds my robes so displeasing. “He has no need to preen like a ca’vii bird.”

  “Well now I’m wondering what a ca’vii bird is,” Milly adds with a smile.

  “I will get you one when we arrive at our home.” I think she would like something like that. They’re supposed to make good—if showy and loud—pets, and I like the thought of spoiling my delightful Milly with such things. For now, though, I just want to hold her close.

  She presses another kiss to my palm, and looks up at me with shining, expectant eyes.

  “You are perfect,” I tell her, wanting to remember this sight forever. “More than that, you are my perfect.” I lean down and press my mouth to hers. She’s much shorter, so I’m leaning far more than is comfortable, but it’s all worth it when she moans and her lips part under mine, our tongues meeting. I forget all about how much I’m stooping as my mouth slicks over hers, and I claim her with licks of my tongue, showing her just how much I want her, how deeply she affects me.