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“There’s so much I miss.” She pivoted, her feet stirring up the grains between her toes. Facing him, she examined his tattoo and the sleek lines they painted over his chest. He’d removed the vest while he’d fucked her and left it off. “At night, I’d go to parties.”
Until she started the training program, she’d been a frequent visitor to clubs. Decades after the Vendu’s invasion, Earth had gradually reestablished a familiar way of life, as if the occupiers weren’t there. The population had recovered; the wreckage of destroyed cities had been swept aside and recycled. A massive program of reconstruction had brought down barriers between nations and cultures merged, less wary of each other and more concerned about the cuckoo in their midst—the silent Vendu and their superior firepower lurking behind their shields.
“Parties? Celebrations, yes? Birthdays, weddings. I know,” he nodded. “We celebrate victories and battles.”
“But no dancing?”
“We chant battle cries.”
She giggled. “So sexy,” she mocked.
“Dancing is sexy?”
“Oh, yes. It can be elegant, and passionate—”
“Show me.” He jerked his head toward the tent behind them. “Go on.”
His request triggered a bout of nerves. She wasn’t a performer. Hesitating, she chewed her lip. “Just like that…”
“There is a music player. You can dance to Vendu music. We do at least have a variety of music.”
She followed him back in. Vendu music remained an enigma. While she studied the harp, she learned the pitches and rhythms of their music, which to Freya had the beat of African drums mixed to the blues. How could she dance to it?
Marco flicked a switch on a table and the music circled her. It wasn’t too strange; she could identify a rhythm to tap her feet to and a semblance of melodic tune. She eyed one of the poles—could she?
“Go on,” Marco urged, settling on cushions. “Dance.”
Her mind went blank and she froze in the middle of the tent. The hours of ballet lessons she’d taken as a child—forgotten. The various dances crazes that had traveled through history seemed inappropriate. Marco waited patiently, nibbling on nuts from a bowl.
Swaying her hips, conscious of her nudity, she wanted to bolt out of the tent, but to where? She might not be shackled to him, but he held her captive in other ways and she couldn’t resist his allure, the way it made her feel desired. Marco smiled as if he was reading her mind, then tossed a nut in the air and caught it between his teeth. His reflexes were amazing.
She slid her hand down the nearby pole—cold, almost icy. She wriggled up to it and looped both hands around the thick metal. The beat picked up tempo and on impulse, she tossed her head back and arched her back away from the pole. Ballet might have given her the agility, but not the moves. She made them up—the swirls, leaps, and rotations around the pole were all of her own choreography. What difference would it make; Marco had no idea of what to expect.
Perspiration collected on her upper lip. The temperature rose as she expended more energy, more vigor. She’d almost forgotten the other heat—the two warm spots on her ass cheeks. She stopped when the music went silent, collapsing on her knees by the pole.
Marco applauded. “Excellent. I’d no idea it was so enjoyable to watch. I’ve a fine view.” He poured her another drink and patted the cushion next to him. “Come and relax.”
She remembered to crawl, which wasn’t difficult since her legs were shaking badly.
Stretched out, trying to catch her breath, she laughed. “That was so much fun. I actually pole danced.”
“Now.” He leaned over her and licked her cleavage. “You need a thorough clean.”
Her eyes sprang open. “Not that kind—”
Marco laughed. “No. I meant with my tongue.” He shifted lower, trailing kisses down her belly. “Down here.”
She whooped as he reached her delicate folds and latched his mouth around her clitoris. Dancing had its rewards.
* * *
“I’ve been thinking about your dancing. And other things too, like writing down stories and theaters. I have made some conclusions based on your opinions. The Vendu hold fast to their ways, because we believe hard work and exercise keep a mind occupied and disciplined. Other than sex and some sports, we have no great need for leisure time. Other humanoids, like you Earthlings, have different needs.”
Freya waited patiently as he ringed her nipples and continued to ponder.
“I’m going to permit some of these activities.”
She beamed and opened her mouth to praise his idea, but he pressed his finger against her lips, preventing her from speaking.
