His Highness the Duke

by Michelle M. Pillow

  “Decide,” he whispered.

  “Oh, you mean for us to…” Aeron looked around the tent nervously. “I’m flattered by your offer of physical sex, but unfortunately I…” Her hands lifted and were caught by the traditional gown’s ties. “Excuse me a moment, it would be rude to rip the gown since technically I’m not here to marry and will need to return it to Galaxy Brides. But I really need to get out of these,” she strained her arms against the straps, “these things.”

  There wasn’t much privacy within the tent, so she went to the corner of the bed and hid behind the revealing gauze near his head. Bron silently rolled off the bed and moved to get a better view. Consciously she kept her back toward him as she slid out of the gown and leaned over to pull the straps off her arms. He watched the material glide off her flesh to reveal the delicate curve of her hips and ass. The scent of her became stronger.

  Sweet. So sweet. And so fragile.

  He clenched his fists, resisting temptation. Bron stepped into her peripheral view. She quickly pulled the gown back on, leaving the straps off her arms. Taking the now dangling material, she wrapped and tied the straps around her waist. Her mouth opened, as if intent on scolding him for watching, but he interrupted her.

  “Beautiful,” he said. “Decide.”

  Bron shifted his hips, trying to relieve the pressure of the material against his sensitive arousal. Aeron quickly looked away and politely pretended not to have noticed his reaction to her. He suppressed a laugh. There was no shame in wanting.

  He wanted to touch her. The elders had warned the grooms that this night would be one of the hardest of their lives. He hadn’t fully understood what they meant until this moment. The Draig kind acted on instinct, but on this night honor dictated they go against instinct, fight their innermost desires, and abstain from claiming the one thing they were meant to want most. To resist temptation was to show respect to their mate. It was to deny themselves for the comfort of the women, to prove they were able to act with reason and dignity. It was to give them the freedom to make the decision without the pressure of an overzealous husband letting things go too far. Temptation was fine, even encouraged, for the chase was enjoyed by many of his kind. Bron would gladly chase this woman across the universe, if only she would put him out of his current misery and claim him as her husband.

  Aeron’s eyes traced the edges of his mask. He willed her to take it off of him, to signify her acceptance of their future and to free him to speak without restrictions.

  “Would you mind removing your…?”

  He grinned. No, he would not mind it at all. He’d remove anything she asked him to.

  “I uploaded the information Galaxy Brides had available on the ship, though some of the information conflicted what I previously heard about your planet. Logically speaking, I have serious doubts as to the accuracy of Galaxy Brides’ reporting practices. Some of their claims about this planet seemed a little too much like propaganda and there was no language upload. Prospective brides should at least be able to understand the native language. I have half a mind to contact the… Sorry, I digress. I was saying, I know the mask is part of your ceremony, but could you take it off without it meaning marriage?”

  He frowned, but nodded. Yes, after the ceremony he could remove the mask himself if she did not do it by morning’s light. It was not as if the failed bachelors were expected to live with the shameful reminder of their unsuccessful wedding nights for the rest of their lives. No mask was needed in such a case. Those men who did not keep their brides wore the scars within for the rest of their lives. It could be seen in their hollow eyes and dead hearts. Such men were painful to behold.

  Bron willed her to take the material from his face, aware that she may possibly have misunderstood him when he answered her with merely a nod. But, tradition deemed him to be mostly silent and technically it was not a lie, not technically. He would not end up a hollow shell of himself. No, he would marry this woman. He had to.

  “Oh, good. It is unsettling to have a conversation when I can’t see your face.” Aeron gave a small sigh.

  Bron leaned his head toward her and angled it to the side, not lifting his arms. He would not be one of those unfortunates who failed. Let her misunderstand. When he could speak openly, he would explain all she wanted to know. She reached for the material and pulled. A great relief washed over him. It was done. Lady Aeron was his.

  4

  Aeron started to relax when Bron didn’t act aggressively toward her, at least not aggressive in a way that made her fear for her safety. It would appear, though barbaric in attire and primitive of planet, he was a gentleman—despite the physical invitations and non-too-subtle innuendos.

  As the mask revealed its secrets, her breath caught. She hadn’t been expecting his strikingly handsome face to be more intimidating than the faceless mask. His expression was probing. She thrust the mask toward his chest and let go. It slid down his tight body. Without looking, he caught the material in one hand at his waist and tossed it aside. Aeron followed it with her eyes to where it landed on the ground.

  When she looked back at him, he had moved closer. Aeron shivered. There was lustful intent in his gaze. His nose was straight, his cheekbones high like his people, leading to deep set eyes. She drew her fingers forward to hold him back, but then thought better of it as they neared his stomach. Heat radiated from his body, the sensation more intimate than any she’d felt in a very long time. The smell of him wafted around her—fresh breeze and earth and erotically charged male. Her back hit the corner of the bed, all too aware of his nearness.

  “A wise decision,” Bron said. “Now we may speak openly.”

  “Ah, uh, thank you?” Aeron inched to the side. His eyes followed her but he didn’t stop her. When she managed to put distance between them, she took a deep breath. She had hoped to talk to him to find out who she needed to give her information to, but seeing him made the words stick in her throat. Taking the mask off was supposed to make her feel at ease. It didn’t work. “I shouldn’t have asked you to take off the mask. We should get back to the feast. Maybe you can put it back on and find someone else to do the ceremony with—”

  “It is late. The feast tables are being cleared. If you desire food that is not here, I will summons a servant to bring more. It is the greatest desire of my people to be of service to you this night.” He moved toward the table and pinched a fruit nipple from the mound of cream. Every practical thought left her. Her nipples strained against the gown, instantly becoming hard and sensitive. Bron turned, carrying the pinched fruit toward her. Thick cream ran slowly down his thumb to his wrist. Lifting it near her mouth, he let the fruit brush against her bottom lip. “I will be happy to feed you, my lady.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” she whispered, not really paying attention to her own words.

  “Necessary? No. But very enjoyable.”

  Aeron was at a complete loss for words. She didn’t even know how to begin to answer. His eyes stayed on hers as he leaned forward to her lips. His tongue darted out to lick the cream he’d rubbed against her. A low moan left him. A loud gasp escaped her. She jumped back, instantly rubbing her mouth. He grinned, making a confident show of placing the fruit between his teeth and chewing, before licking the cream off his hand.

  “I understand there are not many women on your planet, but I am not here to entertain offers of physical sex,” Aeron said.

  “We are not allowed to be completely intimate this night, Aeron, so there is no reason for you to worry,” he answered.

  “Oh.” Was that disappointment she was feeling? Aeron forced the feeling away. She couldn’t have sex. Ever. To do so would be to sign her own death sentence.

  “But we can enjoy ourselves, explore,” he paused, reaching for his waist. Unashamedly, he pulled at his loincloth, turning the material to the side in such a way as to bare the front of his waist and hips. His cock was full, as if volunteering to be the source of her exploration. “Touch, kiss.” He quic
kly hooked his finger in the front of her gown and jerked her forward. The motion caused her bodice to slip off a breast. His hand replaced the material, cupping the soft globe. “I wish to pleasure you.”

  “We shouldn’t. I can’t. I’m here to talk to one of your—”

  “Shh, tonight is not for such things,” Bron admonished. “The only business to be discussed tonight is that of marriage.”

  His hands began to move over her body—sliding up her hip, molding against her breast, traveling along the fastenings of the gown to quickly do away with the impeding garment. Flesh met flesh.

  “I thought we couldn’t be completely intimate,” she whispered.

  “Would you like me to bathe you?” he asked in his irritatingly seductive accent.

  “I don’t do this kind of thing,” she answered.

  “I could feed you. Or we could lie on the bed if you prefer?” His hands reached around for her ass, pulling her tight against him. “If you are fearful of me, I will gladly let you tie me down and have control.”

  His eyes glinted with an inner fire. Aeron had seen many alien species. Well, she’d actually read about them in Federation databases more than seen them up close and personal. She wondered what that little light meant, if anything. Did his eyes see things differently than hers?

  “You may explore every inch of me,” he offered. “I will not stop you.”

  She automatically looked down. It was a mistake. The distinctive press of his male honor lifted between his thighs. He made no move to hide it. She clamped her legs together.

  “Or I will be honored to explore you first,” he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Please, give me permission to pleasure you. Let me put my tongue between your legs.”

  “I don’t think we should be having this kind of conversation.” Aeron took a deep breath.

  “If not my tongue, then at least my hand?” The back of his hand brushed low against her stomach, tickling with the gentleness of it. She felt the cool air against her naked breasts but couldn’t summons the willpower to cover them. Her nipples strained for his heat. “Let me taste you on my fingers.”

  His hand slid lower as a fingertip reached the top of her slit. Cream moistened her sex in anticipation. She dug her toes into the fur rug. Aeron didn’t dare move.

  “I don’t think we should be doing this.” She pushed at his chest. There was no moving him. Her hands slipped along his flesh in an unintentional caress. His breathing deepened and he let loose a long, low growl. The finger hovering near her pussy didn’t move.

  “Mm, shall I kiss you?”

  “I don’t think we’re having the same conversation.” Aeron knew she should put up a fight, or protest, or at least remember herself long enough to form a good argument as to why this should not be happening at all.

  “Shall I massage you?”

  “Ok, we really are not having the same conversation. I need you to stop so I can think.” Her entire length tingled, from the top of her head, down to her aching breasts and damp sex, straight to her curling toes.

  Bron sighed and let her go. His expression fell. “Very well. It will be as you wish for the moment, but I will ask you again and you will eventually give in to me.”

  Aeron had not expected him to stop. She stood naked before him. His eyes roamed unabashedly over her flesh, openly examining every inch. She quickly gathered her gown and struggled to put it on.

  “Though I do enjoy undressing you, there is no need to put the gown on. I’ve already memorized every sweet inch of you, my lady.” His grin was positively wicked. He took the finger that had been so close to giving her a bit of pleasure and lifted it to his lips. He tapped it against the firm line of his mouth as he smiled. Then, licking the digit, he let it drop. Aeron felt the caress as if it had been against her clit. Bron radiated potent sexuality.

  “Explore?” Aeron shivered. Had she just said that?

  He grinned. By all the stars in the galaxy, that look was incredibly sexy. “If you wish.”

  Aeron glanced at the bed to where he’d laid the straps and then to the opening of the tent. “No one will come?”

  Bron leapt onto the bed in one graceful movement. The loincloth righted itself, hiding his arousal from view as it fell into place. Seconds later he was on his back, arms and legs spread, ready to be tied. “No one will come unless I summon them.”

  Aeron bit her lip, considering his words. When would she get another opportunity to touch a man? Especially a man who looked as good as this one did? A man whose customs didn’t allow him to finish what they started? When would she get to look at one up close without fear of it going too far? Maybe they could play, just a little. She was allowed to seek pleasure, just not sex. Before she fully finished the thought process, she was tying up one of his wrists to the corner post of the bed. He didn’t resist.

  When she’d bound the remaining limbs, leaving him vulnerable to her whims, she stepped back to admire her work. Muscles strained bronzed flesh, just as his arousal strained the fur loincloth. His hips adjusted beneath the material, moving erotically back and forth in invitation.

  A little dizzy from nerves, she went to the food table and grabbed the pitcher of wine and poured a generous amount into the goblet. The strong liquor burned a little, much more potent than the berry wine from the feast. She coughed, but managed to finish the whole goblet. Aeron welcomed the numbing fire unfurling in her stomach and throat.

  Lowering her chin, she considered where she was. The man on the bed watched her with a strange mix of anticipation and patience. She moved along the edge of the tent, careful not to step too close to the torches. The firelight only added to the surreal scene, as it danced along the walls. As she passed by the straps, she grabbed a long one, considering blindfolding him so she didn’t have to stare into those dark, penetrating eyes.

  Aeron continued around the tent to the bath. The water was still hot and she wondered at it as she watched the steam curl and dissipate. Seeing a bottle of rubbing oil, she grabbed that as well. By the time she traveled around the entire tent to stand at the end of the bed, he was breathing hard. His eyes narrowed. There was a predatory intensity to his expression.

  “Undress for me,” he ordered. Then, as if trying to amend the harsh tone, he added, “please.”

  Aeron put the bottle of oil by his feet, moved toward the head of the bed, and laid the strap over his eyes. He instantly sensed what she was about to do and lifted up. She tied it loosely around his head.

  “If you will not undress yourself, undress me,” he said as she tightened the knot against his temple. When she was done, he dropped his head back down on the mattress.

  Now that he couldn’t watch her with those intense eyes, she went to the bottle and opened it. His muscles tightened, flexing and releasing. He breathed in deeply, as if he could already smell the oil. She touched the arch of his foot and his leg jerked as if she’d burned him. Aeron became bolder, dripping oil on his skin. No one would know. No one would care. Bron was willing. She was willing. She risked nothing by satisfying her curiosity.

  Fingers glided over taut flesh. Though her hands were rubbing his legs, her eyes were on his manhood. She watched it for movement. A low moan escaped him as she pushed her hands higher. Liquor curled through her veins, lightening her head until she couldn’t think past the moment.

  Her body ached for more contact. Aeron’s hands met the fur of his loincloth. His hips lifted toward her, rocking gently, up and down, up and down, in an agonizingly seductive rhythm. A glance at his handsome face told her he was still blindfolded. She pulled at the fur, slowly stripping it from him. She knelt between his thighs. Her hands were still slick with oil as she touched his shaft.

  “Ah!” He jerked hard.

  Aeron smiled, enjoying her new toy. She’d seen pictures, but never one up close, in the flesh. She traced her finger along the head before moving down the shaft to the root. Stroking it harder, she pulled her hand up. His hips lifted off the bed.

  A
eron’s breathing deepened, taking in the musk of oil and the fresh scent of his skin. Her clothes felt tight so she pulled the gown off and tossed it aside. Getting more oil, she rubbed it on her sensitive breasts. Trails of the liquid ran down her stomach. She felt each one like a caress.

  “Untie me.” Bron groaned.

  She leaned over him to wipe her dripping stomach against his. Instead, his shaft was in the way and she ended up sliding against the length of it. Aeron’s entire body jolted with awareness and pleasure. She kept her body down, pushing up his chest. Her breasts dragged along him until their nipples touched. Oh, but it felt glorious, unlike anything she’d ever tried. She did it again. And again. And again. And again.

  Her breathing became ragged. Bron moved beneath her, helping her to slide. Her legs worked over his hips so she could feel the hard ripple of his stomach along her sex. The sensation was nothing like when she pleasured herself. She moaned softly, running her hands over his chest and neck, shoulders and arms.

  “Untie me,” he said, this time louder.

  She didn’t listen. Her butt slid against his shaft, opening her up to a myriad of new sensations. Aeron lifted her hips, angling her body so that her sex pressed tightly against his. It felt as if his body had been created to fit hers. She gasped, rocking along his shaft. It glided in her natural cream.

  “Aeron, we must not,” Bron gasped, even as his body moved in rhythm to hers. “We must… tradition.”

  The friction of his rod against her clit was too much. She felt the pleasure building. She wanted more, needed more. Her hands dug into his chest as she braced herself.

  Bron growled. The skin beneath her hands hardened, turning a dark brown. A line grew out from his forehead, pushed forward to make a hard plate of impermeable tissue over his nose and brow. Talons grew from his nail beds and deadly fangs extended from his mouth. With supernatural strength, he ripped through the binds on his arms. Aeron stopped moving, teetering on the edge of pleasure. Excitement pumped through her veins to see the shift in him. He tore the blindfold from his head. His eye yellowed, the darkness in them disappearing.