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“I’m…I’m confused.”
“Let me remind you of what we have together. We are mates, Camila Tusk.”
And then I’m in his arms. He places me on the center island in the kitchen. He’s so tall that I soon realize we’re at a perfect level where his crotch is now between my legs.
He grins. “You wear my clothing without anything underneath?”
First, his fingers delve into my hot core and I can hear the slick of my own juices. His nose is in my hair and on my neck and he inhales deeply. “You are pregnant,” he confirms. “I can already scent the extra pheromone trail. It is faint but detectable.”
Oh my god. He’d told me. He’d warned me. And…and I feel tears of joy prick at the corner of my eyes.
“Are you happy?”
“Yes.”
He places a finger under my chin and meets my gaze. “I love you Camila Tusk and I’m proud to have you as my mate and the mother of my offspring.”
In moments his hips are between my open thighs and his pajama pants are down and that thick erection is entering me already. His lips are on mine, catching my moan of pleasure as he fills me up, because of course I’m already wetter than wet, so ready for him again.
7
Derwen
My mate has not yet admitted her love for me, although it shines bright in her eyes. All her actions speak of love and caring, yet she won’t say the words. She’s still half in denial that we’re mates. I’ve done all I can to convince her of my feelings, of my commitment. Of my passion.
She’s indeed pleased that she’s pregnant, which I recently confirmed using the mobile med lab on my hovercraft. Both my female and my offspring are healthy. Yet I worry that Camila is not entirely happy and I cannot discover the reason in order to fix the problem.
“Normally, it takes me a long time to make even the smallest decisions,” she apologizes. “I guess I keep feeling like I missed a step? Just give me time.”
And then she continues to behave as if she’s truly my mate. So I assume she’s mine? Well, and the fact that she’s now pregnant with our first offspring. And we went through every step in the Voltare mating ritual. We are legally mates. She now has my last name and half of my fortune.
Most days we spend in bed and then go for walks on the secluded beach, and then we eat, and back to bed for more sex. She understands that I need to empty myself in her at least three times per day and constantly fill my lungs and veins with her scent and taste, as the only way to decrease my heat to a level that allows me to go outside and act normal.
I make sure she screams with pleasure each and every time.
I enjoy viewing the alien ocean with Camila. Because the land is not perfectly flat, it goes downwards toward the ocean. The front of the house is where all the action is, to allow for the view. But the back of the house has an extra domicile to invite my family to stay on this planet with us, or any of her human family. There are also trails into the nearby coastal woods. The nature reminds me of my own home back on Voltare.
We sit on the front deck and talk and drink late into the night. We talk of work, of life, of…everything. We are quickly becoming not only mates, but best friends. I brought along my cleaning bots and also a food dispenser and Traq brew maker. This means we have no worries about food or drink. My dispenser is calibrated for both human and Voltare food.
I’ve discovered she enjoys Voltare wine as much as I do. My new mate sips on her wine and tells me more about herself than I thought possible. But I listen with great interest.
“I’d really loved that job, until my old boss had retired, and I’d had a new boss. And suddenly I had no life. At her mercurial beck and call.”
It’s very interesting, hearing of her dealings with other difficult humans.
She giggles. “I also love how you gave me stock in this new company you’re starting on Earth. I really think that could one day turn into something valuable. What if it makes me rich? Makes sure I have a good retirement?”
“That was my intention. Although now you’re not an employee. You own half the company.”
“I do?”
I chuckle. “Yes, you do.”
I now suspect she’s had too much wine because she continues, “Do you know I was secretly sad that you were looking for a girlfriend? My first thought was to be all ‘I’ll do it. Sign me up. Dude, you can have me for free.’ And then I was all, ‘that’s weird and creepy.’ Somehow, I was twenty-five years old and still a virgin. I keep that to myself because I know it would shock most women. It’s not even a religious thing. I was just busy. And I never wanted to go all the way. It’s really because I didn’t see myself marrying any of them. By about date number two I knew they were each only guys to have fun with, not life-long partners. And that’s what I really want. So then I just stopped with the dating altogether. I’m not a dating app kinda gal. I’d rather be alone than waste time with guys who aren’t going to be ‘the one.’ That may sound weird and archaic, but it’s just me.”
I pull her into my arms and take back her last glass of wine. “Camila, I believe that I’m lucky to have you as my mate.”
“You only want me because you were caught unaware and I’m like your eleventh choice.”
