68. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
S teele
I’m ecstatic. I can’t recall ever being this happy before. I’ve loved Zoey with all my heart, practically from the moment we met. It’s felt real and deep and fulfilling. I can’t say it’s ever felt fun. But that’s now within my grasp. I’ve glimpsed it several times today, with the public kisses and the open affection and the happy look on her face as she played her spoons and watched me dance.
And now here we are in the light of the Fairean moons, walking to our little cottage. Her hand isn’t just gripped tightly in mine, as if she’d fly away in fear if I untethered her. She’s holding me as firmly as I’m holding her. And she’s grinning.
My primitive mind arrows to the idea of throwing her down on our mattress and finally being able to put my mouth on her, to taste her, and if I’m skilled enough, perhaps to make her scream in pleasure. But I tamp that idea down and shove it away—far away. Something is happening here. She’s changing, we’re changing. But it’s so tender and new. Fragile. The last thing I want is to press too hard, to move too fast and ruin everything.
Instead, I stop dead in my footsteps, yank her to me here in the quiet moonlight, and press my lips to hers in the softest kiss. Does she feel it? Could she possibly feel my emotions? As if the planet just might spin out of control with the fullness, the enormity of my love for her?
“You astonish me, my Zoey. I love you more than the air I breathe. Nothing could change that, but the Zoey I met today? I love her, too. I love this courageous Zoey, the Zoey who kisses me in public and boldly asks near-strangers to teach her how to play klempto and who played her spoons for all assembled. Spoons, Zoey! How does a person learn to do such a thing?”
It seems natural to lift her from under her arms and twirl her around until she squeals with laughter. Dear Gods, that sound makes me feel like a real male for the first time in so long.
Z oey
Steele likes the new me? I like the new Steele. Perhaps my changes are bringing him to life. As soon as he sets me down, I pull him to our cabin as I laugh, almost tripping in my haste.
Suddenly I realize what is probably inevitable tonight—sex. If I were a normal person, it would be the most natural thing in the world for one of us to pull the other across the threshold and then tear off our clothes and pounce on each other.
Certainly that’s what every other mated couple who watched all the sexy, primitive dancing is doing right now. But we’re not a normal couple, and there’s so much uncomfortable history between us. Truth be told, I’m not sure I’m ready to try. I feel like I’ve only driven a bike with training wheels one time and now I’m expected to fly down a hill on my own.
I’m not ready. I think I need to use the vibrator again. I don’t believe our relationship can withstand one more unsuccessful mating attempt. I don’t think I can.
We’re careening toward our front door, though, and I don’t know how to stop the freight train. Steele, my beloved mate, is so happy right now. I’ve never seen him grin so widely. How do I put the brakes on now?
We stumble through the front door, still laughing and panting, and then everything gets quiet. So very quiet. And serious. Darn. I was afraid this would happen.
Steele’s eyebrows draw together and he tilts his head, the corners of his mouth drawn down.
“Zoey? Are you sick?”
He reaches up and puts the back of his hand to my forehead to see if I have a fever. This is perhaps the sweetest gesture he’s ever bestowed on me.
“No, I don’t think so. Why? Do I have dots?” I head toward the bathroom mirror.
My face is red. Not an excited shade of pink, but almost fire-engine red. Red like my face used to get after I’d carried a hate sign all day in the southern sun because my mom forgot to put sunscreen on her fairest child. I’m sunburned. I’ve lived so long on a spaceship flying through black skies that I forgot all about the effects of the sun. Fairea has not one, but three of them.
“Should we comm Dr. Drayke?” Steele’s handsome head is tipped toward me in concern.
“I’ll be fine. This is a sunburn,” I tell him.
“Oh, I’ve heard of this. Some of the gladiators I’ve met suffered from such things. The sun just reflects off of me.”
I don’t know how I didn’t notice until now, but as soon as I saw my dark pink face in the mirror, I realized every square inch of my body touched by the sun is burning right now.
“What helps it? Are you sure I shouldn’t call one of the medics? We have four of them on the compound, you know. One from Sanctuary and one from each of the three ships.”
Vinegar helps, but I doubt they have any, and I don’t want either of us to have to traipse back to the big kitchen that’s next to the dining hall.
“Cool water. I’ll take a cool shower,” I tell him as I cup his concerned cheek in my palm. “I love you so much, my mate.”
“Let me bathe you, my love. I’ll be gentle.”
He’s so solicitous. Of course he is. We’re talking about Steele, the best male in the galaxy. He has me sit on the toilet as he draws me a bath. He checks occasionally to see if the water is the right temperature, ensuring it will be perfect for me, like I’m some hothouse flower. I scoff a bit, acting like it’s no big deal and I’ll be fine. Which, of course, I will, but the way he takes care of me makes my insides feel all gooey and warm as his behavior reminds me just how much he loves me. How much he’s always loved me.
When the tub is full, he stands, grabs my hand as if I’ll die of pain if he isn’t gentle as a butterfly’s wing, and urges me to stand. Then he pulls off my clothes as if they weren’t the most mundane pieces of clothing in the universe. He tugs them off as if they’re made of spun silk. No. Not the clothes, he removes my clothes as if I’m spun silk.
Steele
Zoey and I have never spent much time in the sun. Just a few occasions when she watched my gladiatorial matches and then went back to the ship. I should have somehow known, though. I’m here to protect her and I didn’t.
I pull her t-shirt over her head as carefully as I can and yet she flinches as the rough material scratches her tender skin. I’m even more careful when I remove all her other clothes, then I hold her hand as I help her into the tub.
Melodie has been busy picking blossoms from the property and using them to make perfumes, soaps, and what she calls bath bombs. She’s created a logo and sells them under the Sanctuary brand. She markets them wholesale to a few booths at the fair, and she equipped all our rooms with some. I drop the bomb into the water after taking a sniff, and wait as the little ball perfumes the room.
“Let me wash you, Love,” I tell Zoey.
Gladiators fight nude for the most part. Although we may have carried some shame about our naked bodies when we were abducted, it was all erased shortly after we arrived at our first ludus and were expected to walk around in little to no clothing.
The human females aren’t like that. Not only do they cover up, but they scold us when the boldest of us forgets and wanders into the dining hall without clothing. But Zoey is more skittish about this than any of the other females.
I can’t help but hear my friends talking about what happens behind closed doors. To hear Shadow talk, Petra attacks him in bed every night. She loves being naked with him and they’ve tried every position in the Meris a dozen times. She’s a gymnast and very limber, which I hear is a prerequisite for some of the more advanced positions.
Captain Thantose and Brin own an original copy of the book. I understand it’s worth millions of credits. One day I’d like to hear that story, although I don’t need to see the book.
My shy mate assures me she loves our bed-play and especially loves pleasing me. How can I be pleased when I get release and she gets frustration? Usually, we just avoid having sex altogether. I’ve become the galaxy’s greatest cuddler.
But although she hates to be naked in front of me with the lights on, Zoey seems happy right now. At first, the bath bomb created some bubbles that hid the brown tips of her breasts and the tuft of hair at the juncture of her thighs. But those evaporated a while ago, and she’s not squirming from my gaze.
“Can I wash you Zoey? Or will that hurt?” I ask.
She thinks for long moments. I know her well enough to know she’s not considering whether my touch will hurt her. She’s calculating whether she can tolerate the intimacy of my touch on her naked skin. Just as I’m about to interrupt her mental debate and release her from my request, she looks me in the eyes and says, “Yes. I’d like that.”
I press my back against the same wall her back is leaning against, so we’re facing the same way. I figure this will be less intrusive than if I stayed where I was because it allowed me to look at her from the front. Pressing my back against the back wall gives me access to her without her feeling my gaze is trespassing, although I want to. I love to see her body. When she lets me, I eat her up with my gaze. I admit it.
I lather the soap in my hands and skim them along her shoulders, so only the soap suds touch her, not even the barest touch of my skin.
“Is this okay?” I ask, my voice husky.
She nods, so I proceed. I know others would think it odd that a couple who have been mated for two annums would be exploring each other’s bodies for almost the first time, but it feels that way.
I breathe in the flowery scent and notice we’re listening to Grace’s music. She’s Tyree’s mate. He pilots the Devil’s Playground. We all love her music. It’s calming and sounds as if the angels themselves are playing instruments.
With that as the background, I wash my beloved. I appreciate the gentle slope of her shoulders, the graceful arch of her neck, the perfect, tiny shells of her ears. She sets her arm on the side of the tub and I wash it, even sliding between her fingers to touch every ince of her.
She huffs out a relaxed sigh and tips her head back against the cool tiled wall.
“You’re so good to me, Steele,” she says, her eyes closed, a pleasant smile on her face.
“You deserve everything I have to give and more,” I tell her sincerely.
The lovely tips of her breasts are peeking out of the water, a few pearlescent bubbles clinging to her nipples.
My cock has been hard since I pulled her clothes off, but this, looking at those beautiful buds just poking at me, begging to be licked and sucked into my mouth? It’s killing me. My cock is pulsing in my loincloth, demanding to be set free.
Shut up, dracker , I tell him as my hands keep washing her, slow and gentle.
I’ve moved from the wall to gain better access to her body. Her breasts received no direct sunlight, so I wash them very thoroughly, expecting at any moment for her to tell me she’s tired and wants to go to bed. It would be perfectly normal for her to do that. We’ve had a long day.
She just leans back, though, eyes closed, and sucks in an aroused breath as her little pink lips pop open.
I want to talk, to narrate how sexy she is, how hard my cock is, how my tongue wants to flick her lovely nipples, that I can’t wait to suck them into my mouth. Instead, I just play with them under the guise of washing. When she doesn’t say no, I pluck them until she’s panting with need.
I’m panting too now, taking deep rasping breaths as I argue endlessly with myself. I want to trace my palm up her silken thigh, plunge my fingers into her, and play with her pleasure button until she comes.
But she won’t come, and it will only remind us both that despite how much we love each other, things between us aren’t right.
Her eyes pop open, her pupils are large in the dim light. Grabbing my shoulder, she stands and I can immediately catch her scent—her arousal scent.
“Let me suck you, Steele. Let me make you feel good.”
I hate this so much my cock almost deflates. Almost. How do I tell my mate no when it’s obvious she wants to make me happy?
“This is what you want, Love? It will hurt you. Your skin is still red.”
“I…” she hesitates, obviously having second thoughts about her bold offer.
“It’s late. We’ve worked hard and played hard and your skin is sensitive. Tomorrow is another day, Love.”
“Right,” she says. I can’t read her face. Is she relieved? Rejected? Disappointed? “Tomorrow.”