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Posey’s sleek curves cause my heart to squeeze. The peculiar stillness of her face juxtaposed against the deep well of emotions that swirl in her dark, expressive eyes are her best feature. She tries to hide how much she cares and the passion she feels inside, but I am not fooled. The composed and aloof Posey is always displaced by the passionate and screaming version the moment I push my thick cock inside of her and hit that spot again and again that causes her to scratch my back and scream for more.
And afterwards when we embrace I see the hint of fear in her gaze. The sheen of wetness across her eyes. She acts like this intimacy is nothing to her, she was throwing away her first night of sex for currency and to secure safety. She’s told me often that she was not in fact looking for a mating, but instead for a temporary relationship and funds in her account, but she’s chosen to remain as my mate and the mother of my offspring because she thinks I’m “easy to get along with.” Posey has a history of discarding males before they can get close, but she has let me in. This is a female with a big heart and a bottomless well of loyalty. I only have to look at how she cares for Demon Spawn for a hint at the mother and mate she will become if given the time to bond and process. I give her space to have this understanding on her own, of what I and our offspring will mean to her, and not be called on it. I am equally as surprised to find myself falling in love with a female I recently met, so I understand the need to quietly make the mental shift.
I talk with her often, treat her with tenderness, feed her and keep her pleasured. As a male in heat, I try my best to form a mating bond with my new female. Alone time for a new pair is essential and I create our bond the best I know how. Luckily human females are built very similar to Voltare and I am nothing if not an expert at pleasure. This one female will now be the only one I will pleasure for the rest of my life. I will become an expert at all things Posey.
“We will stay here, just the two of us, for the rest of this moon cycle,” I announce the next morning as she feeds her senior cat and organizes and administers the many medications the animal requires. She’s again wearing my battle gear, the shirt with my symbol on the front, this time taking a moment to pull on black shorts that expose her legs, having no idea that by wearing my gear she’s declaring she’s now part of my tribe. Her hair is long and loose down her back and her face free of makeup, which I prefer.
Each morning we both consume copious amounts of Traq in the comfortable kitchen with its lounge furniture and crackling stone fireplace. She enjoys my dark roast Traq from the smoky hills of Voltare. It is now her favorite morning beverage. We eat our lunch and dinner together at the small table in front of the fireplace, or out on the sunny back patio. My female has zero cooking skills. This is no matter. I can cook for the both of us, plus I brought along a mobile food dispenser. Taygar warned me that Earth had no dispensers and lacked an ability to create Voltare dishes. I also brought a Traq brewing system, which ended up being the best investment I made.
Demon licks its paw after being fed and walks slow and stiff to the cat bed in a sunny location on a low pedestal near a window. Posey placed a ramp up to the bed so the senior cat can traverse easily. It is indeed a beast in need of healing. During the last four days of our mating confinement, while she sleeps, I’ve been working on updating my med lab on the hovercraft to include the ability to attend to the needs of Posey and future offspring, as well as for her animal.
My female takes a sip of Traq. “I will need to eventually return to my old life.”
“When will you need to return to your former responsibilities?”
She shrugs. “I finished all my exams, and the semester ended the day before I left for the auction house. Fall semester starts in two and a half months.”
My chest puffs with pride over my female’s accomplishments. She doesn’t say much, but I’ve learned from the bits she’s admitted that Posey is smarter than the average human and highly educated. “That gives us plenty of time here alone. I am in the midst of mating heat and highly possessive. We must remain together to talk and bond.”
She pokes a finger against my chest. “This explains why you spoke of your parents, many siblings and childhood aches and pains so late into the night?”
I chuckle and pull her in close. “It does,” I breathe against her ear. “And it also explains why you over-explained your entire history with your cat, including the exact day you met and all your best memories. We are both forming our bond, story by story.”
I take her small hand in mine.
She softens and squeezes my hand. She meets my gaze with those dark expressive eyes, a color never before seen on my planet. “I must return to work even while we remain here during the summer.”
“I will allow some work, for the both of us, as long as it is within the same domicile.”
She rolls her eyes at me, which seems to be her favorite mannerism. “I was not asking your permission to return to work.” She pulls up her black bag and takes out a tablet that opens and includes an accompanying keyboard that allows her to tap on it and create language on the screen.
I have seen her use this before in the mornings while she’s waited for me to awake. She works on projects that I assume she thinks are secret. I don’t understand why she doesn’t just vocalize her commands into the tablet, but humans must oddly enjoy making more work for themselves by using their fingers to tap out their written language onto the screen. I allow this subterfuge—where she works in secret and hides her projects from me—for the moment, but I will soon find out the truth. I trust that she isn’t plotting anything that would harm me, our cat or our life here, but I suspect she needs help with an outside problem and she is not yet trusting me to help her find a solution.
I will be pleased when my mate finally understands she can come to me with all her problems. She no longer has to walk through life alone.
“I am writing a book of fiction,” she explains. “I’m off for the summer from university, but my editor and publisher are expecting this book by the end of summer break. So even though I’m here with you, I still need to work. But I can work from home. I don’t need to leave to get this done.”
I can hear the ring of truth in the tone of her voice. “This is acceptable. This means you will require a dedicated office.”
She shrugs and points at the comfy chair near the fireplace, with views of the backyard. “This location will do. This house has internet and power and that’s all I need.”
“No. I have an office and you need one too. Let’s take a more detailed tour of our home.”
I take her upstairs, leaving Demon behind to nap. The lodge has a guest suite downstairs, but upstairs is our primary bedroom as well as four other bedrooms.
I let her choose which room she wants for her office. She likes a small room with black shelving and a corner window that points toward the view of mountains. “This is good. I can put a desk right here.” She loiters in the two bedrooms nearby that I have already chosen for our future offspring, and I suspect in the way her gaze lingers, she draws the same conclusion, that these would be perfect for our infants.
I show her how to program the repair and remodel bots to make the changes she requires to remake her own office in the dark colors she prefers. Then we engage in a brief argument wherein I insist she uses my currency to purchase any furniture, clothing or food she wants delivered to our new domicile, while she insists she will use her own money. Finally, I allow this nonsense because in the end it’s all still my currency—she’s using the funds she received from my winning bid to purchase what she needs.
But I make a mental note to place both our names on all my accounts, real estate and private holdings so that she truly understands it’sourcurrency. We are mates. A family. And we will share in all things.
I take her into my large office to give her a detailed tour of my desk, my collections and my training facility. She is now a citizen and her children will be half Voltare, therefore she needs to understand the Voltare warrior tradition. It is time for her to start learning the culture.
She stops in front of my locked weapons cabinet. “What is this?”
“That is my armament collection.”
“I thought you kept your weapons and explosives on your hovercraft.”
