Pet's Pleasure

by Renquist, Zenobia

  Vieve sighed. “So long as it’s nothing serious.”

  “I don’t believe so. I’ll learn more once Furielle returns. That’s not why I called you, however.” He stood, crossed the room and closed the door. “No more maids.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me and you understood my meaning. No more maids, Vieve.”

  “I thought you would like a fresh face since you’ve managed to work your way through all the current maids—even the ones who were actually hired as maids but you promoted to concubine status.”

  “Aya is pretty but she is also a frightened child.”

  Vieve made a sound of understanding.

  “That aside, I plan to start the search for my queen. I cannot have a palace full of loitering women greeting my bride.”

  “I have been after you to start your bride search for the last three years. What convinced you?”

  He bit back his immediate answer for her to mind her own business. Saying that would only pique her interest. And he had no plans of telling her his many close calls with Starling had him searching for a solution other than instant gratification in the arms of a willing palace maid.

  Vieve asked, “Bekion? Did the connection cut out?”

  “I’m here. Never mind my reasons. I need you to prepare a list of candidates.”

  “Already done. I have to update it since it’s over a year old but I’ll have it to you no later than dinner. I wouldn’t want you changing your mind.”

  “That won’t happen.”

  “And Aya has arrived. I shall leave you to the rest of your day. Call if you need me.”

  “You’ll show up even if I don’t,” he grumbled as he pushed the button that ended the connection.

  Once again, he looked around himself. A rare occasion occurred when he had no pressing matters to attend. He didn’t know what to do.

  His thoughts wandered back to the earlier interlude. Would Starling have let him continue? She had acted disappointed when he stopped, possibly because he hadn’t allowed her to climax.

  Fate handed him a reprieve in that instance. If Furielle and Aya had entered the room a few seconds earlier or if he had decided to keep going, his excuse wouldn’t have worked.

  Hiding.

  Making excuses.

  Denying himself.

  Flat-out lying.

  Each represented a skill he hadn’t possessed before meeting Starling. In a short time, he’d mastered them all. It had to stop. For the sake of his crown, his kingdom and his freedom, he had to stop indulging the whims of his lust.

  His cuff chimed. He knew his peace wouldn’t last long. He pressed the communication button. “Yes, Vieve?”

  “I have the tablets ready for you. They are waiting in your audience chamber.”

  “That was fast. You said before dinner.”

  “I told you I didn’t want to give you time to change your mind. The information I gathered hasn’t changed. Only two of the girls have gotten married since my initial research.”

  Bekion shook his head at Vieve’s enthusiasm. “Fine, Vieve. I shall go to my audience chamber and look over these perfect women you have chosen for me.”

  “Each candidate is educated and compatible with your physiology. They are chosen from the highest and the lowest. I didn’t let a simple lack of title or a questionable birth influence my decision. That opened many possibilities to me.”

  “I’m sure it did.” Bekion nodded to Rois as he left the outer chamber. The man fell into step with Bekion along with the rest of the guards. “Is the number you prepared for me realistic, Vieve?”

  There was a long pause. “Define realistic.”

  He groaned.

  “It’s no more than fifty. That’s a realistic number given how picky you are. I even kept your current tastes in mind when choosing candidates.”

  His current tastes? He thought of Starling. None of the women would be anything like her. Starling had grown on him—an acquired taste he couldn’t deny.

  “Fine, Vieve. I will play this game. For now.”

  “I’ll stop bugging you when you choose a bride.”

  “Dismissed, Vieve.” He ended the conversation.

  Behind him, Rois said, “She is nothing if not persistent. She’s been trying to marry you off since she came to the palace three years ago.”

  “I have no more inclination now than I did then,” Bekion said with a tired sigh. “But I must. As I get older, that one responsibility weighs heavily on me. I need to choose a bride before Supreme Emperor Udo decides to do it for me.”

  “Or Vieve.”

  Bekion snorted and then laughed.

  Rois joined him.

  No, Bekion wouldn’t put it past Vieve to simply hand him a bride. Knowing her, she would slip the wedding into his itinerary for the day and not tell him about it until she handed him his formal wear on the way to the ceremony.

  He said to Rois, “You know, my friend, after I get married, I will direct Vieve’s efforts toward you.”

  “Have I angered you recently, Bekion, that you threaten me like that?”

  Bekion clapped the man’s shoulders. “I only want you to join me in the joys of married life.”

  Both men stopped outside the audience chamber while two of the guards entered the room and checked for intruders. Once they gave the all-clear, Bekion entered, leaving the guards outside.

  Vieve had placed several tablets on his worktable. He already felt fatigued and he hadn’t even touched them yet.

  There was no help for it. He had to take this path.

  He sat down and picked up the first tablet. It didn’t hold his interest long so he switched to another. The facts Vieve had collected on potential brides astonished him. Her information network supplied details about each girl’s likes, dislikes, hobbies, interests and exploits—good and bad. He didn’t want to know how she’d come across it all.

  “Bekion!” Tinette stormed into the study, shaking off the guards as she entered. She glared the men out the room and then turned the look on Bekion. “I have heard many disturbing things about you, Bekion.”

  He didn’t acknowledge his mother. He knew she would visit him sooner or later. The palace population loved secrets and gossip. It was only a matter of time before Tinette pulled her head out of her latest book and heard some of it.

  “Bekion, you will answer me.”

  “You have yet to ask me a question, Mother.”

  He hid a smile behind a tablet when he heard his mother curse under her breath. She must truly be angry to do such a thing. Tinette considered herself above vulgar behavior, after all. But the woman hated when people threw her own attitude back at her. Bekion had learned from the best.

  She said, “I refuse to believe a son of mine would carry on in a deviant relationship with his pet. That…that thing is little more than a wild beast and cannot invoke passion in a normal man let alone my son. There are women aplenty in the palace to tempt your eye, why would you turn to such disgusting behavior?”

  Bekion bit back his automatic reply. His temper pricked easily when it came to Starling. He couldn’t act upset with Tinette or she would realize the truth. Calm denial proved the best solution. Hopefully, the subject would drop and Tinette could return to her own little self-absorbed world.

  “Bekion!”

  He lowered the tablet and faced his mother, whose face showed more fear than anger. “Mother, I’ve never known you to listen to palace gossips. Starling is my pet.”

  “She sleeps in your bed.”

  “Like any pet would. Surely it should take more than that to upset you.”

  “A maid walked in on you while you fondled—”

  “Petted,” he corrected with a half-smile. Both words meant the same in this situation but he emphasized the less provocative of the two so his mother would leave off the topic.

  “Her breasts?”

  “What about them? They’re on her body and I was petting her. I’ve touched her head, her le
gs, her arms and her back. Or should I avoid touching my pet for fear others will think my attention is perverse?”

  He smiled when Tinette’s indignation faded into uncertainty. He stacked the tablets on his desk and stood. The conversation had ended. He needed to give Tinette an excuse to leave. “Is that all, Mother? I have matters to attend to before dinner.”

  She gave him a small pout and said in a soft voice, “I overreacted, didn’t I?”

  Bekion rounded his desk and laid a kiss on her forehead. “You are my mother and you are worried. I thank you for that but there is no need. I have no intention of becoming sexually entangled with my pet.” At least he didn’t anymore. He kept that last part to himself.

  He wanted no more close calls with Starling. She was his pet, not a palace maid. His public life made such an affair dangerous. The people of the palace would overlook a mistress once he married his queen. They wouldn’t overlook Starling.

  Tinette nodded with a sigh. “I am sorry I interrupted you the way I did, Bekion. When I heard the maid telling others of what she saw… You’re right. I don’t normally interest myself in gossip. I don’t even know why I listened to the girl. I’ve never even seen her before.” She gave a nervous laugh.

  Bekion wanted to join her mirth to ease the tension. It took all his composure to keep from showing his anger.

  Aya.

  That had to be the maid Tinette heard gossiping. Despite her apathetic attitude and her general inclination to ignore everything around her, Tinette was aware of the palace goings-on. She knew every servant’s face and name and details about each person’s family. Tinette ensured loyalty that way.

  Bekion rarely changed staff. Only one girl fit the definition of a maid Tinette didn’t know. Thanks to her inability to keep her mouth shut, her time in the palace had ended.

  Tinette said, “I shall see you at dinner.”

  Bekion smiled after Tinette until the door closed and then he slumped against his desk. His infatuation with Starling would get him into trouble. He had to find a bride and quickly. Focusing on begetting heirs would stop him from thinking of the softness of Starling’s skin and her mewing cries of ecstasy at his hands.

  He clenched his fists when his groin tightened. Thoughts of Starling—sweet, open and responsive Starling—tested his resolve. Remembering her sounds of pleasure kept him from seeing her as a pet. Those sounds mirrored a jattikan woman’s so well.

  “Vieve,” he rasped after hitting the button on his arm cuff.

  The woman spoke through the intercom, “Oh, good timing, Bekion. The infirmary says the nanites created the excretion when they rejected a chemical in Starling’s moisturizer. It would have given her a very nasty rash. Furielle reports she will be changing the lotions Starling uses.”

  Bekion wanted to be swept up in Vieve’s happy tone. Mention of Starling only reminded him why he called his secretary. “Send me a girl.”

  “I’ll send Aya. You haven’t had her yet.”

  “Get rid of her,” he barked. “No questions. Just do it.”

  “She’ll be gone within the hour. You know I want to ask. For my own curiosity.”

  “She annoyed me.”

  “I hadn’t realized you’d seen her since the first time.”

  “Vieve!”

  “Sorry. Sorry. I’ll send another then. She’ll be waiting in your outer chamber.”

  “No. Send her to me here. Now.”

  “So eager, Bekion. And it’s barely after lunch.”

  “Vieve, I grow tired of your taunts. Do as I say without comment for once!”

  “As you wish, Sire. I will send a girl to you presently.”

  Her cool tone made Bekion regret yelling but his current mood couldn’t handle her brand of humor. He didn’t want a palace maid. He wanted Starling.

  Chapter Twelve

  Starling watched Bekion leave with his guards. He didn’t say goodbye to her. He also skipped lunch with her. In fact, he had missed breakfast and lunch for the last three days. This behavior started after they got caught together. He was acting guilty again. To atone for that guilt, he avoided her. She recognized the pattern easily and didn’t like it.

  After everyone else filed out of the room to do their different tasks, Starling walked over and confronted Furielle.

  The woman gave Starling a questioning look over the edge of her book. “What’s wrong?”

  “Furielle, is there anything around here that vibrates?”

  That got Furielle laughing so hard she nearly fell off her seat.

  Starling put her hands on her hips, annoyed at Furielle’s amusement. “I’m glad you find that funny. Now answer the question.”

  Furielle took several deep breaths and wiped tears from her eyes. “If you are using it for what I think, there are plenty. Their use is not for pets. I also don’t think Bekion would appreciate me supplying them to you. He seems as though he would prefer to do it himself.”

  “But he doesn’t!” Starling threw her arms in the air and made an annoyed sound. “Every time—every single fucking time—I think we’ll actually get somewhere, someone barges in on us.” She pointed at Furielle. “Don’t laugh, damn it. You did it once too.”

  “So I did. I apologized. The door wasn’t locked. Perhaps you should—”

  “Don’t say it. Bekion has locked the door and still we get interrupted.”

  “He is a king. He’s not allowed to have privacy.”

  “I bet if I was jattikan, we wouldn’t be having these issues.”

  Furielle set aside her book. “If you were jattikan, Bekion wouldn’t need to hide his relations with you. He would continue even if interrupted.”

  “Voice of experience?”

  “He once negotiated a peace treaty whilst I was beneath him. We were behind a screen but that didn’t help my wounded pride. I knew then that I was merely an outlet, not an object of affection.”

  “That’s so sad and normally I would suggest a bitch-fest about stupid men and the things they do, but I’m too damn horny to give a shit. Give. Me. Something. Anything. I don’t care so long as it gets me off.”

  Someone knocked at the door.

  Starling and Furielle exchanged a look before Furielle opened it. She curtsied. “Lord Schel, good day to you. King Bekion is not here.”

  Schel said, “I know. King Bekion is more than likely speaking with his mother at this moment. I’ve come to speak to Lady Starling.”

  Starling came forward. “Hi.” She didn’t get too close since she didn’t have fond memories of the man.

  “I have something for you.” Schel moved to the side.

  She stared at the person standing behind Schel. A smirk curved her lips. “That’ll do.”

  “Who are you calling that?” the man who stood behind Schel asked.

  The man was tall but still too short to be a jattikan, which made him human. A very fine specimen from the black community. Starling would put the man at a little over six feet. That made him chest level with Schel and Furielle.

  Starling shook her head at him as she tried to focus on the conversation rather than the man’s looks. “Sorry. Private joke. I’m Starling Moddel. And you?” She held out her hand.

  “Webber Logan. Nice to meet you.” He shook her hand. “I’m from Virginia.”

  “Florida.” She stepped back. “Would you like to come in and chat for a bit?”

  Or do more, she thought, letting her gaze roam over his muscled arms. Lord, she must be desperate if she entertained the idea of jumping a man she’d just met.

  Webber deserved partial fault. He was a bona fide hard body. He had the physique of someone who did a lot of cardio with some weight training thrown in, like a basketball player or dancer. She could see him doing that and much more.

  He would make a great backup dancer in a music video with his fallen-angel good looks. Hell, he could be the front man. One wink from those dark eyes would have women throwing panties his way in an instant. Starling wanted to be the first.<
br />
  Webber said, “Don’t mind if I do.”

  He entered the room and Schel followed.

  Furielle scrambled to find Schel a seat. “Forgive me for not being prepared to receive you, my lord.”

  Schel said, “Don’t worry yourself. I was charged to deliver the human and make sure he and the other get along. Where is Nausic?”

  “Retrieving lunch for Lady Starling. He should return shortly.”

  “Best tell him to fetch more for King Bekion’s latest acquisition.” Schel sat on the chair Furielle offered him, lifted the tablet he carried into his sight line and proceeded to ignore everyone in the room.

  Furielle nodded and went to the communications console.

  Webber sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes. He said in English, **That guy is a real piece of work.**

  Starling said, **Oh, I know. When I first met him, he dragged me around by the wrist. If I hadn’t been running, he would have dragged me literally, I’m sure of it.**

  **So who’s this King Bekion I keep hearing about? I take it we belong to him?**

  She nodded and gestured to the room around them and the door that led to the inner chamber. **These are his rooms.**

  **That doesn’t tell me about the man himself. Nice guy? More of an asshole than dumbass over there? What? Details, please.**

  **Let’s sit. Nausic, our guard, should be back with lunch soon.**

  **Good. I’m starved.**

  Starling led Webber to her table—another gift from Vieve. It was a replica of the table she had in the dining hall and both resembled the ones Bekion used but in miniature.

  She and Webber sat across from each other. **Bekion is actually a fairly decent guy. He treats me like a person more often than a pet. It’s only on rare occasions that he gets a bug up his ass and decides I’m not worth his time.**

  Webber grinned. **Oh ho. I hear some malice there. What’s the deal? The big guy not seeing to your womanly needs?**

  She snorted. **He can’t. Human-jattikan relations are seen as bestiality.** She curled her lip on that last word. Saying it made her want to throw something.