by Zoey Draven
She seemed to relax at that, her tight shoulders loosening. She turned away to look at the opposite side of the room, walking a few feet towards the fireplace. When Khiva’s eyes tracked the gentle sway of her hips and the way her silk dress caressed her figure as she moved, he almost growled in appreciation.
When it came to his clients at Madame Allegria’s, he knew how to arouse himself for them. Like a switch in his mind, he could become sexually charged if necessary, especially if he had a particularly demanding client for the night.
But with this female…
His cock was already aching for her. Khiva was already picturing what she would look like, her face scrunched in intense pleasure, as he released his cum—his teela—inside her giving body. He was already fantasizing about how long he would keep his cum inside her, how long her orgasm would last before he gave her mercy.
Khiva had a very particular fantasy of restraining a female’s hands and legs to his bed before releasing his teela inside her. And no matter how much she begged, he wouldn’t clean his cum away until it suited him. She would thrash in the restraints and experience orgasm after orgasm after orgasm for hours on end. Her body would tremble, her abdomen would clench, and her back would bow. She would be at his mercy, his plaything, to do with whatever he desired.
But of course, Khiva could not act out this fantasy. Not with his clients, whom he had to obey, in everything, which he struggled with always. Keriv’i were not naturally submissive beings, though being one of the Krave, he had to be.
Of course, there were times when his clients wanted him to be aggressive and dominant, which was freeing. It was a role he enjoyed because it felt the most natural to him, especially during mating and sex.
But as he watched Evelyn, as he studied the gentle curve of her body and the way she curiously inspected the small room, he wondered how she wanted to be mated. Would she want him to be gentle, to mate her softly and slowly? Or would she desire a demanding, rough lover?
He could be both. He could be either.
The room was small, which didn’t give her much to explore. Khiva had not looked at the room with a fresh gaze in quite some time, though he spent his evenings and early mornings there almost every day. Madame Allegria had furnished all the rooms at the brothel and a pair of cleaners came in after every night to launder the bedding and disinfect the furniture.
Khiva wondered what Evelyn thought. Except for a large bed, a fireplace with a black, iron mantel where he burned incense, numerous mirrors, and a cabinet filled with items for erotic play, there wasn’t much to observe.
But the female was inquisitive, it seemed, which made a…lightness fill his chest. Khiva cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing, trying to discern what it was about her that drew his interest so.
When she stopped to look out the circular window—the only one in the room—to the courtyard below, he found himself approaching her. Her shoulders tensed for a brief moment and Khiva frowned, wanting her to be comfortable in his presence.
“What are you searching for, Evelyn?” he asked, softening his voice so as not to frighten her. He stopped mere inches from her back, but she didn’t turn from the window. Instead, their eyes met in the reflection of the glass and Khiva marveled at how small she was compared to him.
He saw her lick her lips. “I’m buying time, I guess,” she admitted just as softly. “I…I’m surprised I’m here, that I actually came here. And I don’t know…I don’t know what I want from this.”
Khiva’s brow bone shifted upwards. Her honesty was…refreshing. He was so used to his clients pawing at him the moment they stepped through the door, demanding the heat of his body, demanding his seed and the pleasure he could give them. It was why he had always felt like a whore, to be used and nothing more.
And Khiva accepted it. He accepted that every client visit brought him closer to what he truly desired: his freedom. Because his freedom from Madame Allegria’s, from Everton meant he could finally begin to search for his mother and brother, if they still lived.
It had been a long time since Khiva had felt like a male…a male that a female truly desired above what his body could do. And perhaps this female would be the same as the rest eventually…but she wasn’t looking at him like a whore right then. She wasn’t treating him like one.
“Tell me what you need, female,” he said, his hands shaking from resisting what he truly wanted: to touch her. He wanted to pull her back into his body and run his hands underneath the silk of her dress. He wanted to strip her bare and feel the heat of her against him.
Desire was dangerous, he realized. It had the potential to undo him, to make him lose control, when all of the Krave needed to be in control, no matter the situation. If Madame Allegria learned that he’d acted on his instinct, or that he was on the verge of losing that control…she would punish him.
“Or tell me what you want,” he added softly. “Want and need are very different, pax?”
“Pax,” she whispered, meeting his eyes again in the reflection of the glass before turning to face him. She had to tilt her head all the way back to regard him. “Is that your language?”
“Pax,” he said again. That lightness in his chest grew. “It means ‘yes’ in yours.”
Evelyn’s smile started small, but grew. Then she became shy again and looked down at her feet, breaking his gaze. Khiva had the strongest urge to reach out and lift her chin so he could see her dark eyes. Again, he didn’t act on his instinct.
“I tried to research the Krave on my Nu device,” she admitted, finally lifting her eyes, “before I came here. I couldn’t find much, not even a picture, which I thought was strange.”
“Perhaps because my race is called the Keriv’i,” he murmured gently. “Not the Krave.”
Some of her nerves left her, perhaps without her even realizing it, and she blinked, a curious expression enveloping her pleasing features.
“It is?”
“Madame Allegria gave us that name…the Krave,” Khiva told her and he didn’t know why. “It is more fitting for what we do, I suppose.”
Khiva could’ve cursed himself for saying that because Evelyn suddenly lost some of her ease with him and bit her lip, as if remembering where she was, as if remembering who he was.
Which only puzzled him further. Unable to help himself, he commented, “You say you are surprised you came here. Will you tell me why?”
She swallowed, her eyes darting to the door and a flash of panic went through him. He didn’t want her to leave, even though he’d be free the remainder of the night. He wanted to be with her, to talk with her, to touch her. He wanted to figure her out because she intrigued him.
“Forgive me,” he said swiftly. “It is none of my business why you came.”
“Isn’t it though?” Evelyn asked softly, meeting his gaze.
Khiva looked past her out the window. The room was on the third floor, so beyond the stretch of buildings just outside the circular courtyard below, he could see the Lake District, with its towering trees. His gaze returned to hers.
“Females come to me for one reason only,” he said.
Those same females kept returning to him because he could give them unfathomable, pure, lasting pleasure. He’d felt panic when Evelyn had looked at the door and he realized that if he wanted her to stay that night, if he wanted her to return as a regular client, then he needed to give her reason to.
For some reason, though they had just met, he wanted her to return. Again and again.
Shifting slightly, he held her gaze, tilting his body towards her. He didn’t touch her, not without her permission, but he came as physically close as possible. Her breath hitched softly, her lips parted. When he saw her pupils dilate, he knew that signaled her attraction, despite her shyness.
The body didn’t lie.
He was just about to ask her permission to touch her, desperate to get his hands on her and begin their night, when she whispered, “Wait.”
Khiva im
mediately stilled.
She looked up at him and even Khiva recognized the vulnerability in her eyes. It made him feel even more protective of her. He wanted to take that fear away. He wanted her to find comfort in him, in his body.
He could give that to her.
He would.
Khiva never would’ve guessed, in a million years, what she said next, however.
“I’m a virgin,” Evelyn said quietly, a light flush blooming underneath her softened cheekbones. “I thought it only right that you know.”
Forgetting himself, he asked, “Kruvu?” When he saw her confusion through the baffled haze in his mind, he repeated, “What?”
“I…I’ve never had sex before,” she said, as if he might not know what ‘virgin’ meant.
Of course he knew what it meant.
He’d just never taken an innocent before.
Vauk!
His clients tended to be wealthy, powerful females, usually in equally powerful marriages. His clients were confident in their sexuality and came to him because they knew exactly what they would be getting…good, thorough fuckings punctuated with multiple orgasms.
They didn’t come to the Krave to talk. They came to the Krave to release tension and find the intense pleasure only a Krave could give them, intense pleasure they couldn’t find among human men, or their husbands for that matter.
Khiva realized too late that his lengthy, stunned silence was beginning to fray Evelyn’s nerves.
“I…I understand if you don’t…if you don’t want to…” she trailed off, looking down at her feet. Again, she desperately glanced at the door, making his shoulders bunch with tension and she whispered, “I’m sorry, Khiva. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll just—”
“Veki,” he growled. Alarm made Khiva grabbed her around the waist when she tried to slip past him. His two hearts thundered rapidly in his chest, a mixture of panic, surprise, and arousal...and fear.
Demav, she scared him, in a way no other female had scared him before.
He didn’t know what to make of that. Or why he felt this strange, strong attachment to her.
Khiva bracketed an arm around her lower back, pressing her front into his chest, holding her against his body in the way he’d craved since she’d stepped into the room. He almost groaned at how good she felt, how right she felt.
“Forgive me,” he rasped, holding her startled gaze. “You surprised me. It was not meant as a rejection against you, female. Never. Not when I desire you so much.”
Almost subconsciously, he ran the very tips of his dull claws down her back, hoping he didn’t ruin the silk. But he wanted to comfort her, to reassure her. Selfishly, he wanted to mark her, to touch her wherever he could reach, a Keriv’i instinct, one he didn’t want to deny.
Khiva swallowed. So close she had come to bolting. He knew that if she had succeeded, he would’ve never seen her again.
Slowly, her tense body began to respond to his touch and her shoulders loosened. Her eyes began to go soft and the lines on her forehead smoothed.
Khiva began to relax also, though he was still processing what she’d told him, his mind firing.
A virgin…
What had possessed a virgin to come to Madame Allegria’s? he couldn’t help but wonder. Surely she had heard that a night with a Krave was…intense.
It does not matter, he realized. She was there. With him.
Khiva intended to give her whatever she sought and more…and he would pleasure her so well that she would return to him, again and again and again.
A low purr rose in his throat, pleased with that thought and suddenly very determined.
“Will you stay, female?” he asked quietly. He would beg her, if he had to. “I wish that you will.”
When their eyes connected again, he saw that her gaze was all softness, relaxed in his arms.
She likes to be touched, he realized and his chest rumbled at the thought. She pleased him tremendously. He would never take his hands off her, if that was the case.
If she stayed, of course.
He didn’t have to wait long, however, because Evelyn took in a small breath and then she said, “Yes, Khiva.”
His hands clenched into her waist at the sound of his name on her lips.
“I’ll stay,” she said quietly.
Chapter Five
He was still touching her.
And Eve felt like putty in his hands.
Khiva hadn’t said a word since she told him she would stay. They were still standing next to the window and she was pressed up against the front of his massive bulk. She felt his cock pressed into her belly, because of their height difference. Through the silk, she felt it pulse against her, reminding her why she’d come.
It was a strange foreign sensation, feeling the obvious arousal of a male, but Eve felt…calm. As if his touch was a drug.
She shivered when he dragged his fingertips up the expanse of her back, all the way to her neck, before moving down again.
And it was right then that Eve acknowledged she was happy with her decision to come to Madame Allegria’s. This was what she wanted. Touch. To feel close to someone.
Khiva’s body was emanating heat and she felt it seep into her skin, into her bones. His chest rumbled with a sound, a pleased sound, and they were so close that Eve felt it more than she heard it.
But right then, right when his hands skimmed past her hips, gliding over the cheeks of her backside, Eve’s stomach growled. Loudly.
Khiva’s hands paused and Eve’s face flamed.
“Sorry,” she said quietly. “I haven’t really eaten today.”
Frankly, she’d had no appetite until right then, at the worst possible time.
Khiva’s eyes glowed from the light of the fire burning in the hearth. Slowly, as though reluctant, his arms drew away and Eve almost sighed, feeling the loss his touch already. He crossed over to a small panel next to the door and pressed a button. The panel began to glow a soft blue.
At her confused expression, he said, “I have sent for a meal.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to,” she said softly. “I’ll be fine.”
The look in his eyes could only be described as searing when he returned to her.
“You need the energy,” he rasped, “for the rest of the night.”
Eve’s breath hitched at the implication. Her lips parted, trying to think of a way to say what was on her mind.
Eventually, she just went with honesty.
“I don’t know if I want to have sex tonight,” she said. “I…I know that’s why I came here, to experience it for the first time, but being here now…I’m not sure I’m ready to be honest.”
Khiva’s eyes were dark as he said, “There is no pressure here, Evelyn. We can build our time however you wish.”
She couldn’t help but ask, “Have any of your, um, clients come to you and not wanted sex?”
The corner of his lips twitched. “Veki. No,” he clarified. “Like I said, females come to the Krave for one reason.”
Eve’s eyes strayed to the carpet. It was of an Old Earth Moroccan design, she knew. It had bright, preserved colors of purple and maroon.
“Do you think I’m strange?” she asked quietly.
“Not strange, no,” he said. “Unique, yes. There is no rush, Evelyn. I am yours for our time together. We can do anything you like.”
Before she could say anything, there was a knock at the heavy door. Khiva pulled it open and Eve couldn’t help but run her eyes over his broad back, at the shifting muscles that worked in unison underneath his tight shirt.
Her sex throbbed again and her breasts felt heavy under her silk dress. Never had she felt such attraction to a male before…and Khiva wasn’t even human.
Eve couldn’t see whoever had delivered her meal and Khiva closed the door, bringing in a large tray filled with platters, before she could. Khiva set the tray down on the small steel table, which was next to a closed black door that she assumed was a washroom. The s
ilverware clattered as he uncovered three separate plates of food, gesturing for her to come over.
Her stomach growled softly again at the sight and smell of food. As she approached, she saw there was a huge steak with a dark glaze, a whole basket of warm bread with rosemary butter, and a slice of chocolate cake with thick frosting.
There was only one set of silverware, however, and she raised her brows at Khiva. “I think you overestimate my appetite.”
His lips twitched. “Soon, I will know your appetite well, female.”
Even Eve knew he wasn’t referring to the food and she sat down in the chair he pulled out for her with a warm face. He sat in the chair next to her and drew closer so that their thighs touched.
“Don’t you want any?” she asked, gesturing to the food.
“Veki,” he answered, “I am not hungry for food.” Eve sucked in a small breath. Then he said, “I will enjoy watching.”
“Why?” she whispered.
“Food is like sex,” he rasped. “Both give pleasure. And you are a sensual being, so watching you will be…erotic.”
Eve blinked, surprised that he called her ‘sensual.’
“’Sensual’ is not a word I would use to describe myself,” she confessed softly.
Khiva shook his head. “You are not a male. You do not see what I do.”
Eve picked up her fork and knife after placing the lace napkin across her lap. Her hand shook as she sliced off a small chunk of the steak, dipping it in the glaze.
Eve wasn’t good at receiving compliments, so she didn’t say anything in response. Instead, to avoid meeting his eyes, she leaned forward and took a bite of her steak.
Immediately, flavor burst on her tongue from the glaze and her eyes fluttered in response. The meat was impossibly tender and melted in her mouth. Eve had possibly never had a better steak in her life and she was a foodie at heart, always dragging Genni to try new restaurants that she read about in the Gazette.
Khiva inhaled a rough breath and suddenly Eve remembered herself. She swallowed the bite and sneaked a glance over at him.
“You see?” he murmured, his hand coming to rest on her upper thigh, which almost made her choke. His fingers played with the hem of her dress, which had ridden up. “Erotic.”
