Her grin was met by him baring his fangs.
“I am correct, am I not?” he said in satisfaction. “I will have more.” Without waiting for a reply, he leaned in and proceeded to drive her to the edge all over again.
But before she flipped out all over him, he backed off and played, teasing her clit with that wicked forked tongue while his fingers dipped inside just enough to make her thrust forward, before he’d back it out and hold her steady.
When she shrieked and yanked on his naanans and ground herself toward his face, he relented with a peek of his fangs.
“Now this is the human female I wish to marry,” he said. “Show me how wild you can be.”
One wild kindergarten teacher, coming up.
Literally.
After, she sagged down on top of him. He lifted her enough for her legs to flop onto the floor but before they met the ground fully, he’d scooped her up in his arms.
He strode back to the command chair and sat.
His nose poked against her hair. “You smell good,” he said before he flicked a switch and pressed a few buttons on the dash.
“I smell like sweat and sex.”
“Good.”
She considered sighing as if sorely put upon, but his comments, no, his grittiness were a perfect match for her tendency to hold herself back. With Gaje, she had no willpower. He reached inside her and tugged her wild girl to the surface, where she reveled in his touch.
“About that bath,” she said. “Really might be nice to soak in a tub.” She’d never realized she could produce so much…fluid before.
“I will bath you. That is the tradition.” He rose then dropped her into his chair. “Will you allow me to prepare for the ritual?”
She flicked her hand his way. “Have at it.”
He dipped forward at the waist in a bow. “Please await my return.”
As if she had anywhere else she could go? They were in the middle of a galaxy, riding in a tiny spaceship. Other than hanging out here, she had nothing else on her agenda for the rest of her life.
“I promise not to touch anything,” she called as he strode down the narrow corridor behind the main cabin, but he didn’t reply.
While she lounged, naked other than her bra, she stared at the stars. For a moment, she felt melancholy. She might never see anyone on Earth again. Sure, Gaje had said he’d make it happen but in the paperwork she’d signed when she’d agreed to be a mail-order bride, it had said that the woman must be prepared to leave Earth and make her new home on Crakair.
She’d hadn’t realized it would hurt this much.
“I have prepared everything as best I can with what is available on the ship,” he said from the doorway.
Turning, her mouth dropped open. “What the holy fuck?”
He looked down and slapped at the fabric covering—barely—his groin. Her god-like being wore nothing else but the skimpy loincloth and his scaled, green skin. “It is the garlong. I would combine courtship rituals and wear it with the bathing.”
“Wasn’t there supposed to be something about playing with my feet?” She’d read something about that in the brochure the government had sent.
His thick brows drew together. “You have studied the material from Crakair.” It sounded like an accusation. “I have done as I am able with what is at hand. If we had been on my home planet, I would be able to do this as it should be done.”
“Hey, no problem. I’m sure a few substitutions are perfectly reasonable. We’re in space. No one expects everything—even a courtship, to be perfect.”
He studied her face as if trying to figure out if she was being sarcastic, and she kept her features neutral. Because really, he was too cute in his skimpy loincloth, this big, burly, scaled, green guy who was so eager to please her. She wouldn’t want him to feel she wasn’t taking this seriously.
She smiled. “Lead on. My bath awaits.”
He scooped her up in his arms. While she could’ve walked, it was always nicer being carried. What Earthman would do something like this? Not many, that was for sure. Thea was no skinny minny and she didn’t care. Starvation had never been on her menu, thank you very much. But back on Earth, a guy would’ve groaned if she’d suggested he even lift her onto a bed.
As Gaje trooped down the hall, he hummed a monotone tune that should be pleasant but was, instead, rather discordant. But she wanted him to know she appreciated his efforts, so she bobbed her head with the rhythm and tried to hum along.
Until he frowned.
Okay, so maybe the courtship thing didn’t include singing in harmony. They could save that until after the wedding.
He hip-checked a door in the tiny hall and stepped inside. “I have had to improvise. There were no zinters to be found on Earth.”
“Bummer,” she said, her skin cringing. What the hell was a zinter?
“You will like my substitution,” he said grimly.
“Sure I will. I mean, if you can’t locate zinters, you might as well go with…”
He pulled back the curtain surrounding what looked like a big round barrel, placed in the center of the bathroom.
“Rubber duckies?” It was all she could do not to giggle. He’d filled the tub with them. “Is there water in there, too?”
“Of course there is. How else will I bath you?”
“Maybe in just water,” she mumbled.
“What did you say?” Now, he sounded affronted.
Nope, nope. She refused to offend a man who was willing to eat a woman out twice in one session.
Chapter 6
Gaje lowered her carefully to her feet. “We must remove this binding on your chest before I can begin the bathing.”
“Go for it,” she said, watching his face.
Acting as neutral as he could, because this part of the courtship must be treated with the utmost respect, he reached toward her covered chest protuberances but paused before touching. How did one go about removing this apparatus she’d strapped around her body?
He fumbled with the front, sliding his fingertip beneath the snug fabric and pulling outward, but it did not snap free. He tried to tug it down over her mounds, but the bands arching up and over her shoulders resisted his efforts.
She giggled. At least, he believed that was the name for the sound. Crakairian females bared their fangs when they experienced happiness, as did all males. And if Crakairian females were especially overjoyed, they had other appropriate ways of expressing the emotion. Never had he seen one shake her chest while curling her lips upward.
“I’m ticklish,” she said, as if that explained everything.
“The word has no meaning for me.”
“It means when you touch me, it makes me laugh.”
That was not the effect he was hoping for. “Instead of this ticklish, I wish for you to be enthralled by my presence.”
Her laughter snorted out. “Don’t go too heavy on the alpha, okay? I love a bold man but some take it into alphahole territory and that’s not my thing.”
Again, he did not understand the terms she used but believed she was cautioning him not to make many demands. No matter. If his courtship went as anticipated, she would be the one begging.
She nudged his hands away and, reaching behind, pulled the garment snug before leaving it hanging across the flesh he was eager to view. While he knew the mounds were for younglings only, he’d been fascinated by Thea’s female body parts hidden beneath her clothing since he’d met her.
A pink flush took over her cheeks. “I shouldn’t feel weirded out by this. I mean…” Her fingers flicked toward the juncture between her legs. “You’ve seen and touched and…” She gulped and more redness filled her face. Was she ill? “Tasted. Anyway. My point is, I shouldn’t be embarrassed about baring my breasts to you.”
“They are for sucking, are they not?”
“Holy…” She gulped again, making him concerned she might have a salivary issue that would need to be addressed by the healers once they had arri
ved on Crakair. “Yeah, they’re for sucking. God…”
“Then why are you, I do not know if this is the correct term, shy to bare the parts of your body made for sucking?”
“Maybe because I didn’t know you existed until a week ago and now, here I am, stripping naked in front of you.”
“Met we have. Mate we shall.” He repeated the words by rote, believing they would reassure her.
From her sigh, he could tell he hadn’t and that made frustration burn through him. If they couldn’t understand each other, how would they proceed through the courtship?
She had ten daelas to decide if she wished to remain on Crakair, and he was determined to convince her she wished to stay by three. He would have to do all he could to show her she belonged with only him.
“Why don’t we get this over with, okay?” She reached up and pulled the mound covering forward, slipping her arms through the straps that had suspended the garment over her shoulders. She tossed it aside then straightened, firmly meeting his eye.
He liked that she didn’t act shy once naked but once his gaze left hers, he couldn’t stop staring. Her mounds had rosy circles in the middle and they appeared puckered.
His hand reached out to touch but stalled. Who knew the protocols surrounding males touching suckling bits?
“Is it acceptable to obsessively study your body?” he asked, his voice suddenly deep and husky. His cock stiffened further, engorged inside his pants. “In some cultures, behaving in this manner would be considered an insult.”
She lifted his chin, dragging his face and gaze up to meet hers. “I’ve kinda gotten used to stares since I matured early. I was a solid C before I hit thirteen.” Her wry tone made him curious.
“Others have insulted you about your sucking parts?”
“A lot of guys act gropy whether the girl wants the attention or not.”
“If you are saying males have pressed unwelcome sexual advances on you, I will seek vengeance,” he growled, reaching for the blade he usually wore at his hip but had removed per the request of the Earth delegation.
“Hold on there, hero. They’re back on Earth, and we’re in a spaceship. Alone.” Her voice had dropped an octave. “Forget them. I sure have.”
The menacing fury building inside him retreated. He’d only heard of the mate blood rage but never experienced it. A flip of his hand did not show the matebond symbol on his palm, but it was rare for it to appear before the fucking. Yet here he was, in the throes of the rage.
“I thought we were pushing through this courtship so we could get to the good stuff?” she said. “As for staring at my…sucking bits, go right ahead. Might as well get to know the landscape, right?”
“There will be no more staring. I must bath you.”
“With the duckies.” Her infectious laughter rang out again, and he joined in before he realized what he was doing. Perhaps he should try tickle more often, as it pleased them both. “Do I just step into the tub?”
“I will assist you.” He swept her up and into his arms and the heady musk of her lust hit him like the whip of a xarton tail in the head, stunning him. She was marking him as hers already. The sooner he commenced the fucking, the better.
He lowered her down into the steaming water, and she sighed as it glided across her skin.
Stooping down beside the tub, he lifted a cloth to show her his intentions. “With this, I will bath you.”
“This is going to get sexual, isn’t it?” she asked without a hint of color staining her cheeks. She sounded eager, which was as it should be.
“Would you like the bathing to become sexual?” he asked. “It is not always the case.”
“Not sure where your females come from but on Earth, if a guy ran a cloth all over a woman’s body, she’d get turned on.”
“I do like turning you on, so I shall do so.”
“Boy, oh, boy.” She fanned her face.
“Normally, if this were the traditional courtship bath, the zinters would consume your dead flesh.”
“Let’s hope the duckies are vegetarians.”
He frowned, unsure of her meaning. “And after they had eaten, the zinters would sink to the bottom of the tub and leave your skin coated with their oils.”
“Are we talking about some weird, sci-fi lube because maybe you should’ve brought some zinters with you after all, despite my resistance to the thought of anything consuming my dead flesh.” She shivered.
“Lube?”
“You know. Sometimes a girl needs to make things more slickery down there.”
“Explain further.”
This time, pink splotches did arrive in her cheeks.
“Lube is used to ease…penetration.”
“Ah, for the fucking. No concerns.” He dipped the cloth in among the smiling, yellow flotation devices and wrung it out. After coating the scrap of material with scented oil, he proceeded to glide the fabric across her back.
“Shit, that feels fantastic,” she said, leaning forward to give him easier access.
He dipped the cloth lower, along her behind and between the cheeks.
“Shit, shit, shit. Don’t stop.” Her butt wiggled.
Her arms and shoulders received equal treatment.
She leaned back against the natural, soft cushion with her body slouched and her legs splayed wide. Did her culture consider this an invitation?
“You and I will not need lube,” he said as he reapplied the oil and glided the cloth across her sucking protuberances. “My tongue will serve this purpose.”
“Holy hell,” she said.
His hands froze on her mounds. “Is it forbidden for any but the youngling to touch these?”
“More, more,” she said, arching up toward his hand. “Holy…”
“Tell me about these,” he said as he stroked the cloth across the small circles in the center. They had curious puckers that grew rigid. “I would know more.”
“Like what?” her words came out in a moan.
“For example…” Pausing, he laid the scrap of material on the side of the tub and pinched the pink nubs between his fingers.
She gasped and jerked her chest upward.
He blinked slowly, curious about her response. “This is sexually arousing for you.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“I am Gaje.”
“Have you never touched breasts before, Gaje?” Her eyes remained closed.
“Crakairian females have fleshy tubes that project from their abdomens when our younglings are born. They use those to feed the young.”
“On Earth,” she cupped the mounds and lifted them, “we have breasts, but they’re not just for…younglings. Guys like them, too.”
“I will admit I find them intriguing.”
Her eyes opened, and the heat filling her gaze shot straight to his cock. It responded as if she’d voiced a mating call.
“Since you’re so fascinated by my boobs…” One corner of her lips curled upward. “Why don’t you try sucking on them yourself?”
Chapter 7
When he lowered his head and exhaled on her wet nipple, shockwaves blasted through Thea. She was going to have another orgasm before he touched her.
His tongue—that glorious, forked tongue—glided across the bud before he pulled the entire areola into his mouth. His tongue stroked while his fangs gently bit down.
A naanan latched onto her other nipple, and the inner mechanism fluttered and vibrated.
He lifted his head and bared his fangs. “I do like these protuberances. I will suckle them often.” He backed away, onto his heels.
“Don’t…”
His head tilted as he lifted the cloth. What could only be taken as pure devilment gleamed in his dark eyes. Ass. He knew exactly what he was doing to her.
“You wish to proceed with the courtship, do you not?” he asked. “We cannot proceed with anything further until each step has been completed.”
Fuck. He was going to drive her out of her mind wit
h lust before he finally took her, but she had a feeling she was going to savor each moment.
“Okay. Wash me. Feed me. Then fuck me,” she said, feeling more wanton than she had in her entire life.
A low growl rumbled in his chest. “It is all I can do not to remove you from the tub and carry you to my bed.”
Only one of her eyelids lifted, and she slanted him a heavy glance. “What’s stopping you?”
“Rules must be followed if I hope to achieve a full matebond.”
“What’s all this matebond talk about, anyway? I heard something vague about it before but it didn’t make sense. Is it like a wedding ring?”
Coating the cloth with oil, he dragged the fabric across her “boobs”. “Perhaps a firmer abrasion will make this less sexual.”
She moaned and arched her spine. “I don’t think that’ll get you the effect you hope to achieve.” How could she even talk? Her clit was on fire, aching for his touch. One stroke and she was going to explode.
“My control is slipping,” he said, his voice deep and sensual. “The matebond is rising inside me.”
“Gotta like a matebond,” she panted out. It was all she could do to speak as he ran the cloth down her belly.
“I do not wish to cede control to the matebond.”
“Why?”
“I am large where you are small. I do not wish to hurt you with my advances.”
“Honey,” she said, stilling his hand with her own. “I don’t think there’s anything you could do to me that will hurt.”
“I am not a honey.” He stroked the cloth along the tops of her thighs.
“It’s a nickname. An endearment.”
His brow cleared. “Then I will permit you to call me honey.”
She couldn’t contain her smile. “Perfect.” She waved to her groin. “Proceed with the bathing. I believe you’ve missed one area.”
He leaned forward and his tongue dipped out, but his spine stiffened and he straightened.
“Finish the bathing,” he muttered. “That is the rule.” He coated the cloth with oil and shoved the duckies so hard across the surface, a few hopped out of the tub. The cloth dipped down, into the water.
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