Chapter 24
CORA
Yiri was the meanest, hottest, most wicked alien husband I could have picked for myself.
Why wouldn’t he fuck me? I could barely get him to kiss me or even touch me.
Right before dinner, I thought it was finally going to happen, but Nerus interrupted.
The tension was slowly killing me. Seriously, one more minute of that nonsense and I would have dropped to my knees, ripped off his towel and swallowed his cock. Try not to screw me then!
But apparently Yiri’s Uncle Zacal had demanded that my husband take me to dinner.
Yiri explained that it was important that we be seen together in public often, at least for a while, to avoid conflict with the Cendaquans.
I wasn’t an expert on alien diplomacy, but as a woman, if the man who snubbed my marriage proposal started parading his new wife around as publicly as possible, I’d be pretty pissed.
But whatever. This was his world, not mine, and I didn’t mind going to dinner. I was pretty hungry.
We did talk about the cekets over dinner, as promised.
Yiri tried his best to convince me that it would be safe for me to swim with the cekets he considered his, even though they were wild and not at all pets.
He said they were loyal to those who helped them, and he fed them often.
He thought that loyalty would extend to me as his mate, but I wasn’t all that eager to put his theory to the test.
We ate at a restaurant that was more like a palace, if you asked me.
It had stone turrets and everything. We sat on a terrace overlooking the ocean, a burbling water feature nearby drowning out the murmured conversations of other tables.
But we were very clearly the topic of discussion for all of them. Everyone was staring at us.
“Are you kind of a big deal around here, or is my dress as shocking as I thought it might be?” I asked Yiri, nearing the end of our meal.
“A little of both,” he grinned. “I can’t take full credit for the attention we’re getting. I’m not sure some of them have even noticed I’m here.”
I scoffed. “Please. Every female here is drooling over you.” And sizing me up.
“Every male here wants to take you home,” Yiri countered.
“Well, too bad for all of them,” I said a little tartly. “Because you’re mine.”
Yiri’s answering smile was devilish. “Is my wife feeling territorial?”
I bounced my shoulder and sipped some of the zibe wine Yiri ordered for me, shooting for nonchalant when I felt anything but. “So what if I am?”
“Will you think I’m a very bad male if I tell you I like it?” he asked. The gleam in his eye told me he’d enjoy my jealousy whether I liked it or not.
“I already suspect you are,” I said, dryly.
“It’s an interesting position to find myself in,” he said. “I knew I’d be jealous of any male looking at you, but I never expected you to feel the same about me.”
“You didn’t think I’d be jealous of all the women—females—who look up when you walk by?”
He made a face. “They don’t,” he said. “They might glance my way and then take a step back, but they aren’t appreciating me the way these males appreciate you.”
I snorted. “Riiiight.”
He dipped his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “They don’t. I’m infamous. That’s all. No female is looking for an old thug like me, no matter how much money and influence I have.”
I blinked at him. Was he for real?
“Okay, first of all,” I said, holding up a finger, “I wasn’t looking for anyone at all, and you came along and convinced me to leave my solar system in a matter of weeks. You think I’d have hopped a transport vessel for just anyone?”
“Better be glad you didn’t,” he growled. “It would not have gone well for your husband when I found you.”
I raised another finger. “Secondly, how old are you anyway?”
He quirked a brow. “Having second thoughts? It’s too late, little wife. You’re mine now.”
I rolled my eyes and waited expectantly.
“Fifty-six,” he said.
I gawked at him. “No, you’re not.” Sure, he was a little silver at the temples, but unless daernir aged very differently from humans, there was no way he was in his fifties.
“It’s not such a big difference, is it?” he asked, rubbing his neck again. “You’re forty, right?”
“No. I’m thirty-two.”
His brows knit for a moment, but then he smiled. “No. You’re thirty-two Earth years, maybe.”
“Definitely,” I huffed.
He grinned, a teasing glint back in his eyes. “I believe you, Aneah. But Venastean years are shorter than Earth years. Let me see.” He took out his frame and did a quick search. “I’m forty-five of your years. Is that too old for you, little wife?”
“Forty-five?” I tried to get a look at his calculations on his frame. “Are you sure? Because you’re a hot forty-five.”
“I’m sure.”
I studied him for a moment and then said, “It’s not too old for me.”
“You like it,” he said, surprised.
I made a noncommittal noise and sipped my wine, but Yiri chuckled.
“I should have guessed,” he said with a self-satisfied grin. “You like it so much when I call you little wife.”
There was no way he could know that my whole core clenched on the empty space where I really needed his dick to be. I kept a straight face… I was pretty sure. My breath might have hitched a little, but he couldn’t tell that, could he?
“You smell like zibe fruit when you want me,” he said, voice quiet and deep. “Makes me hungry.”
Wait, wait, wait. Back in Muria, he said…
“Some species have a better sense of smell than humans,” I repeated.
Yiri licked his lips. “Are you asking me a question, little wife?”
Ungh. He knew. Every time he said something that made my heart race and my panties wet, he freaking knew. And yet he still hadn’t made a move. Dear god, why?
“Are we done here?” I asked, waving a hand around us. “Being seen?”
“We can be,” he nodded. “You want to leave?”
“Yes.”
If I thought Yiri being able to smell that I was turned on meant he might do something about it, I was wrong.
My dear husband took me home, his hand on my knee the whole way, Nerus smirking as he drove us in a sleek little vehicle somewhere between a convertible and a spaceship.
Yiri walked me back to the bedroom, his hand getting closer and closer to my butt, and when we got to the door, he turned me around, leaned me back against it, and kissed the hell out of me.
The hell, the sense, every last bit of vocabulary, all of it right out the window when he plundered my mouth with his dexterous tongue. He had one hand on my waist, and the other cupping the side of my face as he pressed me into the door with the weight of his body.
Okay, I thought. It’s gonna happen. He’s about to take me in here and rail me good.
But, nope.
When we were both out of breath, he pulled back and rested his forehead against mine, staring down into my eyes for a long, agonizing minute. Then he slowly closed his eyes and stepped back.
“Good night, Aneah,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I’ll see you in the morning? What the fuck? See me right now! See me naked and really, really eager to bounce on your big dick all night!
Nope. Nuh-uh. He opened the door, ushered me inside, and closed it behind me. And then he left. Went… wherever bad daernir males go when they’re refusing to fuck their wives. Was he serious?
I screamed. Actually screamed as I marched to the bed, grabbed a pillow, and threw it at the wall.
I had never in my life needed a dicking down as badly as I did at that moment.
And the worst part was that it should have been easier than it had ever been before to make it happen.
And yet my alien husband didn’t even want to sleep in the same bed as me.
What was happening? Was there some reason he wouldn’t take this step with me?
I thought he was attracted to me. Very attracted to me, even.
But maybe he was faking it. Maybe he was really just using me to avoid this arranged marriage and I fell for all his soulmate bullshit, and his hot, dangerous pheromones and now I was stuck on a strange planet in a sexless marriage. Oh. My. God.
“If he thinks he can do me like that, I’ll feed him to the cekets,” I said.
Mr. Darcy meowed in agreement and stretched his little paw out in a demand for attention.
“If your new Daddy doesn’t sleep in here tomorrow night, you have my permission to scratch him,” I said, plopping down by him and stroking his soft fur. He closed his eyes and bobbed his head in contentment. I figured that meant he was on board.