by V. K. Ludwig
“They appear more of a gold color when you come out of the shower.” And the fact that he noticed puts a flutter in my belly.
“Your kuchi,” I say and grab another rock, tossing it out of the field. “Keg’rik said you beautify yourself with them. Do the patterns mean anything to you?”
“Scarring ourselves is one of the greatest gestures of devotion a saikh can give his female.” His spine straightens, and he runs a finger over the floral pattern on his pecs, the area centered underneath still unaltered. “We call this flower bish’ne. My mother’s name.”
Lifting his chin, he points at the thorny vines underneath. “The first female who tried me liked this plant, so I had them scarred into my skin.” He trails his hand over the upper part of his abdomen. “The second one had three jukit birds on her estate, and she loved their feathers.”
I don’t want it to, but that muscle tugs my brow upward anyway. “Sorry if I’m ignorant, but how exactly does this work? They book you for a few hours, and you go cutting up your skin?”
“I’m not a whore, as you called me, Lilly,” he says, more like a fact than a reprimand. Thank god. “The birth rate of Vandalar females has always been low. As a result, they often live with more than one male.”
“Seriously?” It just blurts out of me with a snort. Isn’t one husband annoying enough already?
“It’s not easy for a male to convince a female to let him join her estate. So… many of us study to become a saikh, to appeal better to them, and raise our chances to remain by their sides.”
“Okayyy, that explains why you’re a saikh. I still don’t get why you’re here with me, and not with one of those two females you scarred your skin for.”
He turns his attention back to the rocks, torturing his upper lip before he answers. “They didn’t like me, so they replaced me with someone else.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” The defeat clings so heavy to his voice my own shoulders slump. That’s depressing. “I stopped scarring myself for them after the second one. Otherwise, I won’t have any skin left by the time a female recognizes me as her saikh. Or if I ever find a mate, but that’s even less likely.”
His words put a hairline crack on my heart. “So a saikh isn’t the same as a mate?”
“Very few males are blessed with a mate,” he says. “Many remain alone for all of their lives, unless they are accepted into a female’s household. Being a trained saikh only raises the chances.”
“Can a female have a mate and saikhs?”
“It’s certainly a betrayal to her chosen mate.” He sucks his lips into a slash and takes his time before he adds, “But it’s socially tolerated and happens quite often.”
“Well, I like the flowers on your pecs,” I say. “Guess it’s sweet that you put your mom there.”
“My mother left us when I was five and is living with four saikhs now.” His tone is so cold I barely notice the sun sizzling us out here.
“Oh… um.” Way to dig into childhood trauma. “My name’s a flower too, you know. Lilly? Most of them are purple, pink… orange.” Yeah, there’s no saving this. “I’m really sorry she left. Bet that was hard.”
His smile throttles the awkwardness somewhat. “My father cultivates rare herbs and spices.”
“He’s a farmer?”
He stares up at me with a boyish grin. “Why do you think I know how to plow fields? I’ve done it since I was a youngling.”
“Is that why you’re so well-built? From hard work on the fields?”
“Every saikh has his weaknesses,” he says, and I just can’t see what that could possibly be. “I try to compensate mine by being as physically appealing as possible.” And he excels at that, too, right along with cooking, just like he promised. “I left my father many sun cycles ago to go to school.”
“The saikhmenti?”
“A different school.” I want to know what kind, but he only tosses another rock, adding, “Although I regret not staying with him. He could have taught me a lot of things to please you in this situation.”
Right, the pleasing thing…
I squat down and gather some smaller rocks, my pulse speeding up. For once, I wish Steph was here to blurt something like, “Lilly’s got the hots for you.”
“You mention that a lot.” My palms turn damp. “Is everything about pleasing the female for you?”
Because I kinda want to please him back.
His intent stare sends a nervous tingle across my skin. “Everything I do is for the sole purpose of pleasing the female, yes.”
My heart steps up a beat, pounding so violently I can barely breathe against the muscle. What the hell? I’m a grown woman, emancipated, taking my pleasure where I can find it, right? Stop acting like a whimpering virgin!
“So, um… what you did to me that night,” I murmur. “That was all for me? You didn’t enjoy any of it?”
Jax pauses clearing the field and regards me for long seconds. He tilts his head with curiosity, narrowed eyes tracking over me as if I’m a book, and my breathing, my posture, and the shift of my balance are the lines.
His lips tug into a soft smile that melts away the awkwardness. “You felt me between your legs, Lilly. There was no hiding how much I enjoyed it.”
“Right. Stupid question.” I clear my throat once. And again. “Look, I don’t want a saikh, Jax. But I think I could do with a…”
When my voice trails off, Jax squats down in front of me, stroking one finger underneath my chin. “Could do with what?”
“A booty call? Maybe?” Embarrassment kicks me in the guts right there. That was the best I could come up with? A booty call? Like what? Across the hallway? “Casual fun. Just sex.”
“Booty call,” he repeats, his finger halting its gentle stroke over my chin. “Do they kiss?”
I want to shrug but my shoulders are locked in place, heat running down my spine with how he stares at my lips. “I guess kissing is fine if—”
He kisses me hard, devouring my mouth as if starved for days. His hand grabs the back of my neck, pulling my lips onto his until they throb, almost possessive with the demand in his grip.
I moan shamelessly, pussy weeping for attention. Do we start this right here? Out in the field? I mean, why not? It’s worth the sunburn my pale ass is sure to catch.
But Jax pulls back with a stuttering inhale, swallowing hard before he nods. “I can be your booty call. Once I’m done with the fields.”
I immediately grab the nearest field rock and toss it onto the pile. Finishing those fields never sounded as important as it does at that very moment.
Nine
Lilly
I dump leftover dinner into the terrorhog pen, which triggers an orchestra of squeals, the setting sun casting a pink hue over Whispering Whillwheat.
Humidity rides on the gentle breeze coming from the fields. Ten days until monsoon, and my muscles scream in complaint. Jax and I worked our asses off getting everything plowed, both already half asleep when we collapsed into bed each night, no energy left to even think of sex.
Banging the frying pan against the chain-link fence, I lodge bits of potato before heading back inside. The sweetness of dessert cake wafts its way from the kitchen counter straight into my nostrils.
The bowl goes into the dishwasher, and I push the chairs back underneath my small kitchen table.
“Lilly?”
I step toward Jax’s voice. “Hmm?”
He stands in the hallway, sweatpants riding so low on his hips it should be outlawed. “I know I’m asking a lot, but can you remove my collar for a moment?”
I grow uneasy. “Why do you need me to take it off?”
He walks up to me, all beautiful skin draped over sinew and muscle. “I have a lot of dirt stuck underneath the metal with all this plowing. Combined with the sweat, the friction, well…”
He raises his chin and tilts his head, one finger lifting the metal of his collar by a few inches. A gag knocks ag
ainst my esophagus.
A line of angry red trails around his neck. Skin scuffed sore in some areas, others weeping yellow discharge. Yup, it’s getting infected.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I stomp into the steam-packed bathroom, grabbing my medication basket from the cabinet. “Go sit on the couch.”
“Considering the night we no longer pretend didn’t happen,” he says, considerable amusement on his tone, “I figured you would say no. So I didn’t bother asking, but it got significantly worse today.”
I follow behind him to the living room across the kitchen. “Are you in pain?”
“Yes.”
Of course he is. “There’s no way I can work around that collar.”
“I know. Which is why I asked you to take it off. I can treat it, wrap it, and you put it back on.”
Or I can take it off, and he runs.
“I won’t run,” he says as if he read my mind. But aside from running, he could also— “I won’t growl at you either.”
Son of a bitch, he sure thought this through. “How can I trust you won’t?”
“Run?”
“Growl,” I say. “Because I don’t want to lose control over myself like that again.”
His purple eyes hold mine, narrowing slightly, his voice gentle and reassuring. “Did I growl at you ever since I promised that I wouldn’t?”
“You know I would shock you.” Maybe.
He slowly leans forward as if not to scare me, his deep voice like a caress. “Lilly, when I growled the next morning, I held back, and yet you stumbled against the door behind you. One growl from me, with effort, and you won’t even remember I have a collar.” His gaze dips to my lips for a fraction of a second, and my heart skips a beat. “I can have you writhing on my shaft whenever I want if I want to be that kind of male.”
I hold my breath, and my clit joins the conversation, pulsating so hard I press my thighs shut. Yes, he could. I want to sit on his cock right now. And he knows because he snorts a chuckle. That comment alone deserves some voltage, but fuck, it’s the truth. All of it.
“I can still shoot you the next day.” I take a deep breath, activating the hologram on his collar to type in the code. “Just… don’t abuse my trust.”
He lifts his chin high for easier access. “You know full well I won’t, Lilly.”
Odd how I’m willing to trust him more than that no-good of an ex-husband. One beep, and the collar clicks open.
My fingertips tremble when I carefully remove it, placing it onto the couch, nausea kicking my ass hands down. “I’m no doctor, but this needs cleaning. Hold still.”
I rummage through the basket behind me until I find gauze. Taking it out of the wrapper, I soak it in an antiseptic solution and dab the wounds. All the while, I brace for him sprinting out the door.
“So tense,” he says and just sits there. “Are you aware that the lock on the door between the bathroom and your bedroom was broken those first nights?”
My throat dries to a clench. “It is?”
“Whenever I closed mine, the draft popped yours open.” His eyes slip to my lips again, and I lick mine in response. “I could have sneaked into your bedroom every night. Growl so gently into your ear, you would wake up wet, and come straight for me to fix it. Beg me to fill you with those ridges we pretend you didn’t love.”
“You got some cojones, Jax.” My entire body shivers at his explicit words. “Say that again when you’re wearing your collar.”
But he only smirks. “I repaired the lock.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d say that guy’s a keeper. “Tell me about the saikhmenti. The school you went to?”
“What do you want to know?”
I rise onto my knees so I can dab the back of his neck. “What exactly do they teach you?”
“How to decipher your body language, your reactions. Every female is different, and we learn various approaches to satisfy them, and help them enjoy mating to its fullest.”
I toss the gauze onto the coffee table and grab the antibiotic ointment. “Like a sex guru.”
“There’s more to it than sex,” he chuckles, a vibration so soothing I want to make a quilt from it. “We learn how to make a female happy. At the finals, I passed with honors in attentiveness and housekeeping.”
“Yeah, I always thought I keep a clean house. Then you came along and put things into perspective.” I work the bandage around his neck. “Let me know if I’m wrapping it too tightly.”
“I enjoy your touch very much.” His voice carries an edge of despair. “And I think you did amazing keeping this farm up for a year on your own.”
His words put a flutter into my stomach, the sensation so strong it reaches up into my ribcage. “So… finals. Do you, like, have to demonstrate your skills?”
He hesitates for a moment. “We work with simulators, droids, but yes, the school has females for us to practice on to get accurate feedback. We call them sheri’ma.”
So weird…
I cut the bandage and tape it all together. “Do you have a specialty or something? Like a study focus?”
His fingers tug on the dressing. “I was told my growl is very arousing.”
“No kidding,” I say on a chuckle, and his laugh adds some baritone to it. “But that’s more of a natural ability, I guess, not a specialty.”
He strokes his palm across his chest and thinks for a moment. “I took additional coursework for something we call nakwi, where I trigger the release of adrenaline in your body, followed by a flood of endorphins. Highly stimulating.”
“Doing what?”
His eyes crinkle at the corners. “Creating fear and dousing it in pleasure.”
Kinky. “But how exactly?”
“There’s no one way to do it,” he says, and what kind of non-answer is that? “It depends entirely on the moment.” He grabs the collar, asking softly, “Do you want me to show you?”
I choke on my spit.
Do I?
The reasonable part of me says ‘hell no’. But the bigger part of me, the one burning with lust, screams ‘fuck yeah’. Isn’t this what I want? What I asked for?
And yet, I hesitate. “Did you say fear?”
“Put this back on.” Hand outreached, the collar dangles from his fingers. “It’ll provide you with a sense of control if you don’t trust me enough yet.”
My heart rattles into fifth gear.
As if he spots it right away, he strokes the back of his hand over my cheek. “I won’t do anything but nakwi and stop once it’s done. Or I can get up and go to bed. Your choice, Booty Call.”
I cringe at the endearment, but the meaning isn’t lost on me. Just sex. Just fun. Why not?
Fuck it. When in Rome, right?
Hands shaky, I put the collar back.
Click.
“Is it activated?” he asks.
I swallow that saliva pooled underneath my tongue. “Not yet. I need to type in the code.”
I tap once. Beep.
I tap twice. Beep.
And a third time. Beep.
I’m gulping down a breath and nod.
“Ready?” he asks.
Another nod in response.
“Sure?”
A third nod. “Yes, I’m su—”
Jax grabs my throat with such force, my heart slams against my ribcage. He squeezes. Hard. One push, and the back of my head presses against the cushion, his fingers clasping so tightly I stare at him in shock.
His hips bully my legs apart, and he lowers himself down, a tight ball forming from my guts. I suck in a sharp breath, adrenaline pumping through my veins like lava.
A spark of hunger ignites in his eyes as he whispers, “Fear. Right there in your belly.”
His lips caress along my jawline, a whirlwind of panic raging at my core. Until he rolls his hips, hard shaft grinding against my pussy, his deep, guttural, drawn-out moan against my ear making heat explode between us.
Easing his clasp on my th
roat, he trails a finger across my lower lip. Then he dips down, taking my mouth. Jax kisses me with all the gentleness in the world, making me shatter into a million pieces while he strokes his fingers through my hair.
“Pleasure,” he rasps, finishing his kiss with a gentle nibble that ends in a faint smack, then he lifts himself up slightly, head shaking. “Right there on your dilated pupils.”
My lungs are on fire from panting. “I think I’m having a heart attack.”
“It’s just a battle of hormones. Nothing else to it.” His fingers keep caressing my head, and my lungs falter to a halt when I notice his hand slightly trembles. “I physically dominated you, then showed you it’s safe to give in.”
“Is that what you like?”
Suddenly, his face is earnest, and he trails his hand along the inside of my thigh. “I never said that.”
I whimper underneath him, my body clenching, tightening, a desperate urge to feel him inside me building at my core. “Jax, please touch me.”
“How, Lilly?” he whispers between kisses over my sternum, his hips circling so his cock faintly brushes over my pubic bone. “I can make love to you for many hours. Or I can be rough, ripping one release after another from you. What do you want?”
Everything — I want everything. His hard body against mine. His lips on my breasts, clasped around my nipples, suckling between my legs. I want his mouth caressing every inch of my body. When he trails his hand between us and cups my pussy, I kick as if I’m drowning in all that want.
“Vek, Lilly, you react so strongly to me. I’ve never seen this before. Eyes. The angle of your pelvis. The way you arch your back. Shock me all you want for saying this, but your body is screaming for mine.”
“Yes,” I moan. “Yes, it is…”
His tongue trails around the shell of my ear, his whisper nothing but the caress of warm breath against my temple. “Then I will answer.”
Ten
Jax
I need room.
Lots and lots of room to sprawl her out, so I can worship every part of a body begging for my touch. “Hold on to me.”
