by Brenna Lyons
“No. I don’t prefer that.” At all. Seir-God, you have no concept what walking through here with you shoeless means to me.
Her smile was more heartfelt, and the muscles in her shoulders relaxed.
Arren offered his arm, and she took it. It was a simple courtesy. Considering what removing her shoes would typically signify, it was the least a male could do to escort her properly.
Discussions at neighboring tables quieted at their approach. Males sneaked hurried assessments of Sandy, then turned away before Arren could voice his offense.
Sandy was thankfully oblivious to all of it. Her attention was on the Xxanian artwork hung on the walls, the many plants, and the filtered lighting.
One selfish corner of his mind reveled in the fact that the other men were jealous of him, the Subdominant. Another argued that not telling Sandy what a female being shoeless meant was dishonorable.
She may be angry. She has a right to be, but I will make amends, if she is.
The waiter drew a heavy curtain back. “Here, sir.”
Arren grumbled out his thanks and guided Sandy into the chamber beyond. The walls, floor, and ceiling were padded, and freshly laundered cushions were stacked in a raised box that took up half the room. Aside from the lights and the cushioned box, the only thing in the room was the long, low table the food would be deposited on.
Sandy looked around, seemingly uncertain as to where to sit or how to. Though she clearly had questions, she didn’t ask them.
She’s probably afraid of looking foolish in front of the staff. Or making me look bad in front of other Xxanians.
The waiter closed the drapes carefully. “Would you like to order now, sir?”
“A few moments, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, sir.”
At the sound of a throat clearing on the other side of the drape, the waiter reached through and brought the wine and glasses from their original table back. He arranged them on the low table, then took his leave.
The moment he disappeared, Sandy looked up at Arren. “I did something wrong. Didn’t I?”
He sighed. “I don’t see it that way, but you may. I apologize, but there was no way to explain it without causing you unease, so I let it continue until I could do it properly and privately.”
Her glance toward the curtain spoke volumes of the fact that she didn’t find this arrangement private.
“The staff is very discrete.”
Sandy nodded. “What did I do wrong?” She seemed fixated on that concept, and Arren wished he could convince her it was unwarranted.
“All men remove their shoes. I can only assume you saw a man do so and thought everyone did.”
Her cheeks flamed. “Two men. So…what does it mean when a woman removes her shoes?”
Arren motioned to the room. “You are requesting a private dining chamber.”
“Just that?”
“Not precisely. It means you are…receptive. You are inviting your dinner partner to seduce you.”
Her eyes went wide and wild. “So they think…?”
“That we mean to have sex in here? At the moment, yes. If you decide you want that, the servers will close the doors after they deliver the food, and no one will disturb us until we let ourselves out.”
“And if I decide I don’t want that?”
His heart sank, but Arren forced a smile to his face. “I tell the servers it was an error, because it is your first time at a Xxanian restaurant, and the doors will stay open. Everyone in the restaurant will believe we simply wanted comfort and privacy and not an intimate encounter.”
Sandy stared at the cushion box. “And people do this often?”
“The cushions are laundered after each meal served in here,” he assured her, though Arren feared that wasn’t her concern. “Yes. These rooms are often used by mated couples, often bearing couples. Ones that are traveling and far from their nests find this an indulgence. Sometimes, unmated couples come here for pampering and a bit of privacy.”
“And have you…? Before me?”
If the Xxan could blush, Arren thought he might be capable of it for the first time in his life. “Once. The female saw it as something of an adventure.”
“Oh.”
“You are not an adventure to me,” he reminded her. Arren had made it clear enough that he wanted her as his mate, hadn’t he?
She was silent and still, and her scent was an uncertain mix.
“Sandy? Would you rather leave?” Perhaps she was too shamed by this mistake to eat here.
“No.” She looked up at him with those stunning light blue eyes. “Tell them to shut the doors.”
“This will be a night you never forget,” he vowed.
Arren unbuttoned his jacket and slid it off, letting it fall to the padded floor. He scooped Sandy into his arms and settled her onto the cushions. Once he’d provided her with a glass of wine, he called the waiter in, hoping to make the most striking announcement of her decision he could.
****
The server entered the room, his gaze averted, though Sandy was certain he knew precisely how she was arranged on the cushions.
“Your choices, sir?”
“The best for my lady,” he announced. “And preparations.”
“Yes, sir. S’shuuaih?”
Arren shot a heated look at Sandy. “Yes. Thank you. Informal.”
He withdrew, and Sandy peeked at Arren over the rim of her glass. “What did he ask?”
Before he could answer, the server was back with an armload of deep blue silk. He handed it off to Arren with a slight bow and hurried away again.
Arren set the silk on the low table and started unbuttoning his shirt.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“We are going to dress more comfortably for dinner,” he informed her.
“We?” Her heart pounded in anticipation. This was turning out to be something altogether different than what she’d anticipated.
He smiled wickedly. “We.”
Sandy set the glass on the edge of the table and went to work on her suit coat. When she was down to her bra and panties, she looked up to ask him what she should remove. The question stuck in her throat at the sight of him standing nude, his cock at attention.
I guess that answers my question.
She watched, spellbound, as he wrapped a length of blue cloth around his waist and tucked it into itself. His cock tented the front, and a slight wet stain announced he was more than ready for whatever was about to happen.
“Take off the rest, and I will help you wrap the S’suuhhea.” His voice was rough and low.
Her body wet in response. Sandy made a show of removing her bra and underwear, and Arren brought a second length of cloth onto the cushions and knelt beside her.
“Raise your arms.”
She complied, and he wrapped the silk around her back, drawing her slightly closer with it. He passed one side and then the other around her hungry breasts and tied two knots to make a loose loop around her throat.
His fingertips tickled at her inner thigh, and Arren worked the thigh-high stockings down her body and off. The scene was so sensual, she was gasping for breath before he collected her clothing and piled it with his own.
Then he was back, kneeling between her spread thighs. “You want me already. Don’t you? You want my tongue thrusting inside you. Or do you want my cock?”
She swallowed down a moan, shivering pleasantly. “Yes. Please.”
“Which?”
“Both.”
His eye slits widened in arousal. “We have a few minutes before the servers return to close us in.”
She moaned out a protest. He couldn’t make her wait. It would be cruel to—
Arren spread the sides of the silk, exposing her body. His rough tongue rasped over one nipple and then the other. “You are going to spend a good deal of the meal like this, being seduced by taste and touch and smell and sight.”
He sucked the nipple i
nto his mouth, and she gasped in response. Sandy had never wanted to have public sex, but right now, the servers could walk in and watch, and she probably wouldn’t care.
He teased her, stroking his tongue back and forth between her breasts, tasting her nipples in turn, ranging higher and lower but never as far as her slit or her mouth. Sandy sank into the cushions, boneless in pleasure. She swore she could come from this alone.
Arren whispered into her collarbone. “The doors aren’t closed yet, Sandy. Do you want to scream for me before they are or wait for their muting properties?” He paused only a moment to let her digest that. “No one will care if you scream in pleasure. No one but me. The urge to make you scream is so tempting to me.”
He was tempting her. The question was, how bold was she?
Not that bold. “Not yet.” She wanted to ask if they would be able to hear her scream with the doors closed. No. If I know they can, I’m not sure I’ll be able to go through with this.
“Then you must control yourself, Sandy, because I am going to try to make you scream.”
Before her head stopped spinning from that pronouncement, Arren’s tongue was buried between her thighs, scraping pleasantly in and out of her sheath.
Oh, stars burn. Help me. Sandy tunneled her hand in Arren’s fine hair and fisted it. She pulled him deeper, needing the climax riding her desperately. What is it about Arren that makes me want him so intensely? I act like a wanton with him, though he treats me like a goddess.
He spread her slit and undulated his tongue. Her hip and leg muscles tightened, and she bowed up from the cushions.
A knock at the entrance startled her. Arren started to pull away, and she dragged him back with a harsh “no”. Sandy didn’t care who saw them or heard them. She needed to come.
Now.
Arren thrust his tongue in and out fiercely, driving her over with a mew of delight and a surprised little shout. In the aftermath, she lay beneath him, while Arren licked leisurely, lapping at her still-contracting body and forcing her to continuing climaxes.
He drew away slowly, pulled the cloth closed around her body, and covered her with the final piece of cloth, a silk sheet. Sandy vaguely noted that the servers would know roughly what they’d been doing moments before.
Do I care? She didn’t, which might have bothered her a few weeks earlier, but it certainly didn’t tonight. Like a wanton.
“Enter,” Arren called out.
The tone of warning in his voice brought a smile to her face.
****
Arren barely looked at the servers bringing the food in. The sight of Sandy, lying sated and mussed, was too appealing to ignore.
She has never known sated as she will after this meal.
Platter after platter settled on the table, some covered and some not. The servers took their leave with a muttered prayer, and the doors closed.
Arren made a show of kneeling at her side and reaching for the first of the trays.
Sandy performed a leisurely stretch and smiled. “Mmmm… Smells good. What’s for dinner?”
He couldn’t have controlled his need to leer at her if he’d wanted to.
She laughed. “I believe you’ve already had me for dinner.”
“I don’t believe I’m finished with that.”
He lifted the covers on the trays, displaying the wide array of foods he had ordered for them. There was sashimi and z’haahn, fresh fruits and vegetables, cheeses, chocolates and petit fours. To his delight, Sandy’s eyes widened and glittered in excitement.
“What would my lady like first?” he asked formally.
Her brow crinkled in confusion.
Arren bowed his head to her. “In one of these private chambers, whatever the female wishes is the command of her male.”
She shot a hungry look up and down his body. “You know the old saying.”
“Which old saying?” There were thousands of them, he knew.
“Life is short. Eat dessert first.”
He smiled. “Chocolates or petit fours?”
Sandy wrapped a hand around his neck and urged Arren into the pile of cushions over her. “Who said anything about that sort of dessert?”
He parted her lips, ravenous for whatever she would offer him. Once we are both sated, I’ll teach her everything I can do with the foods. He knew it wouldn’t end at once. With what he intended to do, he was laying wagers at somewhere around three times before they let themselves out of the room.
Chapter Thirteen
Sandy pulled her Identi-chips from her purse and reached for the lock. Arren’s heat against her back stopped her in mid-reach, and she was abruptly aware of every millimeter of his body touching hers, aware of his needs, needs that he rarely voiced.
“As always, it is the female’s choice.”
She could lay with him for hours and not say a word. He knew what she wanted and gave it effortlessly and selflessly. There had never been a man that put her so at ease and demanded so little from her in her life.
As if in answer, his hand cradled hers, and he guided the Identi-chip up to the lock. Her breathing hitched in her chest and escaped on a rush.
Sandy didn’t doubt that he would want to have sex in her apartment. He always did.
In every room. In countless positions. Her exhausted body reacted as if it had been weeks since they’d had sex instead of an hour.
The door lock disengaged, and Arren raised his free hand and pushed it open. He didn’t ask to come in, but Sandy read the question in his stillness.
“Yes.” To nearly anything he asks for.
Arren guided her inside and shut the door. He unfastened her coat and drew it off her arms. He circled her body and hung the piece of clothing on the coat rack.
Sandy’s heart hammered at her ribs. “Why…?” She gasped when he started working her suit coat open.
“Why what, Sandy?”
“What is it about my apartment that you like so much?”
He smiled faintly. “You.”
“But you can have me anywhere.” Too late, she realized what she’d admitted. Her face flamed.
Arren chuckled darkly. He sobered and met her gaze. “When I started coming here, your apartment smelled of another male.”
Her horror at that thought probably showed on her face.
“It was unacceptable. It would still be unacceptable, if the scent returned. Xxanian males are…possessive of their women. Having our mixed scent surrounding me is soothing for me. It also makes me proud to have my scent in your living space. It probably doesn’t make much sense to you.”
“No. I think I know what you mean.” How many times had she breathed in his scent on the pillow before leaving the bed? It made perfect sense to her.
He nodded, though he still seemed troubled.
“Stay the night, Arren. No early morning meetings. Or…anything.” Sandy was lightheaded. She wanted him to accept.
He’s a busy man. He’s going to refuse. He—
“Nothing is more important to me than you, Sandy. I give my vow. Nothing will make me leave you tonight. Nothing. Do you mind if I let Betty know to cancel my appointments for tomorrow?”
A giddy laugh bubbled up. Jason would never have canceled a single appointment for her, let alone a day of them. She waved him on, unable to form the words to accept the gift with decorum.
****
Arren woke with the first rays of the sun peeking around the slatted blinds that covered Sandy’s windows. He reached around for the pile of clothing littering the bedroom floor and pulled his dark glasses out.
With them in place, he watched his lover sleeping. My mate. If the last few weeks with her were any indication, Sandy fully intended to choose to bind to him.
It’s a permanent step. It’s not one human women take lightly.
The Xxan didn’t take it lightly either, but while Arren was certain he wanted to bind himself to Sandy, it would likely be some time before she made her decision and voiced it. Some humans dated
for years before they agreed to the legal binding of marriage, let alone the physical binding the Xxan enjoyed. Humans found the concept frightening, he understood.
Years. Seir-God but the thought was disheartening. Arren wanted to bind Sandy to him. He wanted to share the portions of himself he’d been reluctant to rush her to, the non-human parts.
If we are still together in another week, I will broach the subject. Even if he had to wear a condom, Arren wanted to bring his secondary into their lovemaking.
It was more than the selfish wish to feel her touching his secondary talking. If she was going to make the informed choice of him as mate, she had to accept all of him, including the fact that the two cocks Xxanian men had was no rumor.
Sandy stretched and reached for him, her mouth curving into a smile when her hand settled on his chest. “Hmmm… I wasn’t dreaming,” she purred.
His cock came to life that quickly. “Spend the weekend with me,” he blurted out.
Her eyes opened a slit. “What?”
“The weekend.”
“But you have work every—”
“I told Betty to cancel everything for the weekend.” He had. It had been a rash move, but Arren had been certain Sandy would agree to spend her free days with him. Was I wrong?
“Here or at your apartment?” she asked.
“Your choice entirely.” Give me this, and the weekend is yours.
Her expression was uncertain.
“If you don’t want to—”
“I do!” Her cheeks darkened in a blush, and her eyes glittered. “I—I mean—”
“But?” Whatever the problem, he would do his best to solve it.
“Well, I do have a few things I can’t cancel.”
Arren settled back to hear her out. On some level, it intrigued him that she had such pressing concerns.
“I do laundry on weekends. If I don’t, I won’t have work clothes to wear next week. It will only take a few hours. You could come to the laundry with me,” she suggested.
It warmed his heart that she wanted to include him in the mundane moments of her existence. “I have a better idea,” he offered.
