Chapter Six
“S-SIT HERE, PLEASE.”
Hexius paused at the entrance to his own office, golden eyes taking in the sight of Samira standing behind his massive glass desk.
She wore nothing but one of his white dress shirts, the fabric swallowing her small frame while somehow managing to make her look even more tempting than when she’d been half-naked in his arms. The shirt hung just low enough to tease him with glimpses of her bare thighs, and the way it gaped slightly at the collar revealed the creamy rise of her breasts.
She gestured awkwardly toward the leather chair positioned across from where she stood, which was his usual seat for intimidating business rivals and pack challengers.
How surprisingly tactical of her, to ensure they would commence negotiations as equals. He approved of it, too, but of course now was not the time to let her know this. Later perhaps, when they were done negotiating.
But for now, it was nothing personal.
An alpha always negotiated to win, for his pack’s good.
Hexius deliberately moved at human pace as he settled into the chair.
It was Deception 101 to lull humans into a false sense of relaxation, and unfortunately for both of them, the trick still worked.
Once they were married, he would make sure she understood not to fall for the same trap. But for now?
The more vulnerable she was, the better.
“I’ll go first.”
She paused as if thinking he’d argue, but he simply waited, and the silence stretched between them until her nervousness became almost palpable.
“So, um...” She cleared her throat, the sound sharp in the quiet office. “Could you tell me how you presently feel about Brandy?”
Hexius leaned back against his chair, studying her face. Did she realize how she had said the other woman’s name as if the syllables burned her tongue?
“I’m responsible for her as she will always be a part of our pack.”
“Do you still love her?”
The way she stumbled over the words, her voice catching slightly on ‘love’...was something he had to ignore, as he would with anything that could soften his stance or impair his judgment.
“Why do you ask this?” His tone remained perfectly even. “As alpha, I’m expected to lead by example, and I do not intend to dishonor my vows when we marry.”
“I haven’t said yes.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Are we even negotiating?” A helpless smile touched her lips as she said this, and he inhaled deeply to repress the lust that immediately flared. So many things she did affected him, and he didn’t like it.
“That you’ll be my wife and mate? Non. But the concessions you desire me to consider because of our marriage? Oui. It is open to negotiation.”
“I don’t actually have any concessions I want to ask—”
“You do not wish to know if I would allow you to work?”
“I have a feeling the thought of stopping me from working didn’t even cross your mind.”
Comme c’est intéressant.
She seemed not to understand the kind of man he was on some level, but she also seemed strangely intuitive about other aspects of him.
What a mystery his future wife was shaping out to be, and unfortunately for him, this trait of hers threatened to compromise his judgment.
..because right now, he was wishing that he had her wear something else.
Anything except one of his own shirts, which dwarfed her to the point that it revealed the creamy rise of her breasts while not being long enough to hide the shapely curves of her bare legs.
Not good, Mercier.
This was equivalent to giving his own opponent an unfair advantage, which he had never been guilty of in the past.
“Something else just occurred to me,” Samira suddenly declared in a rush.
“It’s not about concessions or anything, but.
..what about the legalities of the two of us being married?
I don’t follow preter news much, I’m afraid,” she admitted with a slight wince.
“So I don’t know if there are any requirements—”
“We will have to register our marriage with L’Alliance,” he acknowledged.
Her brows furrowed. “Really? But I thought you aren’t a member—”
“Indeed. But by virtue of your race, it is you who’s under L’Alliance protection, hence the need to register our marriage”
“Oh...”
“Do you have any other questions?”
She started to shake her head, but the look on her face however...
“You can also use this opportunity to address your concerns about the permanency of our marriage.”
Her eyes widened. “How did you—”
Patience was one of his stronger fronts, and so Hexius simply waited.
Samira shook her head again, this time looking rather overwhelmed. “It feels like you’ve thought of everything.”
He didn’t bother replying, didn’t see any point wasting words on the rhetorical.
In truth, he’d spent the better part of the last hour making contingency plans while she’d showered and borrowed his clothes.
Marriage to a human required careful coordination with various parties, not to mention the security protocols necessary to protect her from those who might see her as a weakness to exploit.
“But you’re right. There is one thing I want to...I guess...I mean...” She started wringing her hands, and Hexius had to fight against the urge to reach for her. Comfort her. Right now, he had to remember she was not his wife...yet.
“Don’t you think you should at least give it a chance first?”
Hexius frowned, his attention sharpening. “Give what a chance?”
“Your feelings for...her. Don’t you think you should give it another try—” Her gaze dropped away as she made the suggestion, fingers twisting together. “See if maybe you’ll fall in love with her again—”
Ah, so that’s what she was getting at...the idiot.
“That’s all in the past.”
Her expression turned dubious, and his mood turned exasperated. “I do not lie about such things.”
She actually seemed to want to argue this, lips parting as if to speak, but she changed her mind when she saw his glare.
Smart girl.
“One last question.”
He waited, golden eyes never leaving her face.
“Why do you want me to be your wife now? What changed?”
“Compatibility.” He didn’t even have to think about this, having always planned to let her know from the start that their marriage was no love match.
Samira, however...
She turned red as soon as she heard the word, color flooding her cheeks, and Hexius was once again...perplexed. Her face might be expressive, but he was starting to appreciate how...unpredictable her thought patterns were.
“What do you find so uncomfortable about this?” Hexius asked.
“It’s just that someone told me—”
“You mean your roommate, the human sister of the Adelardi queen.”
Her eyes widened. “How did you—”
He only raised a brow, and she sighed. “I should probably be more surprised if you didn’t know about her. Right?”
How unexpectedly astute she was turning out to be, and completely unlike his original assumptions about her being this puppet heiress being controlled by her power-hungry grandfather.
“Anastasia did tell me a bit.” Samira fidgeted as she made her confession, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of red while she once again avoided his gaze. “About...things.”
Why that was, though...
“What is it about us being compatible that you object to?” Hexius had to force himself to ask the question. He was simply not used to admitting incomprehension.
“It’s not that I object, but I’m just...it’s a little too...”
“You will have to do better than that,” he reprimanded, somewhat impatiently.
“I...I was told that compatibility would increase your strength as a preter.”
“That is what you object to?”
Samira quickly shook her head, her expression aghast. “No, of course not! But I was also told for it to take effect, Anastasia said...” She trailed off, wrapping her arms around herself as if suddenly cold.
Everything finally became clear.
And it was the worst of distractions, the final nail in the coffin of his self-control that he did not see coming.
“You’re talking about sangferia.”
She didn’t answer, only gulped, the movement of her throat making him think of all the things she could...dammit.
“It is indeed true that sangferia can exponentially increase a preter’s strength, but most of the experiments are focused on Caros.”
“Oh. Okay. I see.”
She actually looked torn between relief and disappointment, and for the first time in his life, Hexius also experienced something similar. Her reaction made him want to smile. Almost. But it also made him want her again. Now.
“All is not lost for my kind,” he said gravely, and this time, Hexius really did have to press his lips together when he saw the way she brightened.
“Does that mean there’s something I can do for you?”
“If results from the new set of experiments conducted by the Faes are to be believed...oui, there is. But it has nothing to do with your sangferia.”
“Then what—”
“For shifters like me—”
All she managed was a gasp, with Hexius using preternatural speed to accomplish what was impossible for humans...in just mere seconds.
One moment she was standing behind his desk, the next she was seated on its surface, his hands braced on either side of her hips. The glass was cool beneath her bare legs, and he could smell her sharp spike of arousal mixed with confusion.
“H-Hexius?” She looked at him with wide, startled eyes, but he also noticed her breasts rising and falling more rapidly beneath the shirt she wore.
“Your essence is what I need to consume, and you, mine.”
“I...I d-don’t—”
“The more we feast on each other, Samira, the stronger our bond will be.”
A strangled gasp was all she could manage, as in the next second, Hexius also had his massive desk cleared with a swift sweep of his hand.
Papers scattered to the floor in a cascade of white, his laptop sliding away with a sharp scrape of metal against glass.
Samira was now flat on her back, her legs parted wide—
“H-Hexius!”
His nostrils flared, but it was not only because of the air perfumed by her innocent need for him.
But something else.
Someone...else.
To hell with it.
He dipped his head as he placed her legs over his shoulders, his grip on her bare thighs keeping her in place even as she did her best to struggle. Her skin was impossibly soft, warming under his palms, and he could feel the fine tremors running through her muscles.
The fabric that covered her most intimate flesh was already drenched with her desire, and Samira’s choked cry bounced against the walls of his office as he traced her folds through the damp lace.
Gently. Lazily. He wanted her relaxed, waiting patiently for the tightness of her muscles to gradually ease. ..
Finally.
He ripped the scrap of lace from her body to taste her.
Pleasure her. Own her. The first touch of his tongue against her heated flesh drew a broken sob from her throat, her hips bucking involuntarily against his mouth.
He did it again and again until she was gasping and sobbing, her body shuddering, her head tossing from side to side on the cool glass surface. ..
“P-Please...”
She sounded like she was about to lose her mind.
Good.
From here, everything became faster. Deeper. Harder. He didn’t even let her catch her breath. He needed her to stop thinking completely and just feel. His tongue delved into her sweetness, tasting her desperation, her surrender. And when her back finally arched—
“Jouis pour moi, Samira.” Come for me, Samira.
And his future wife, ah, she was exquisitely submissive, a moan spiraling out of her throat as she obeyed his command, and the feast finally began.
This was not his first time to pleasure a woman in this manner. But he knew right away from the very first moment her essence coated his tongue, all sweet and creamy heat—
He knew that the experiments of Lysander Allard were indeed working for both him and Samira, with her essence tasting more delicious and addictive than he could ever have anticipated.
He lapped every drop, his perfectly responsive Samira whimpering and her entire body jerking as if a jolt of electricity would course through her body every time his tongue made contact with her oversensitive flesh.
He tried to make it last for as long as it could...while at the same time doing his best to ignore the other woman’s scent that had now invaded his office.
The scent of youthful arrogance, mistakes, and secrets.
The scent of the past he’d thought buried.
Brandy.