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"Can I do some decoration at yours for my blog?"
"You can do whatever you like, mate."
He always used that word carefully. Mates were allowed to decorate their partners homes. Mates got to sleep in and were fed breakfast by hand. Mates found their laundry dry and folded hours after they'd forgotten it in the washing machine.
Being “petal” was playful and naughty and sweet. Being “mate” was being cared for and reminded of belonging. I loved both roles.
We finished the lasagna, and Khell moved out of the way so I had room to slide it into the oven. The meatballs were simmering in the crockpot, and Natalie and Theo were bringing roasted potatoes and good bread. Everything was ready. And I was…jittery.
"Would it be bad if we broke into the moonshine before they got here?" I asked Khell as he led me by the hand out of the kitchen, through the dining room and back to the living room. "I'm too nervous to sit still for an hour."
"I have a cure for that," Khell said.
"You can't fuck me," I rushed out, mostly to convince myself. "Theo will smell it on me, and then he'll be awkward all night."
Khell grinned. I'd told him about Theo's face when he opened the door of his house the day I left the cottage, and also about the orc at the hardware store. He'd been obnoxiously proud of himself.
Khell moved ahead of me, planting himself on the center of my couch, his knees touching. He patted his lap and arched an eyebrow. "Sit."
I glared back at him. "Khell."
"Pet," he bit out, drawing a shiver from me.
Being “pet” meant I obeyed and I liked it.
I sighed and stepped forward, reaching out to grasp his shoulders, but Khell swatted my hands aside and took my hips. He turned me away from him and drew me back until I had to stumble and spread my legs for his to fit between.
"Khell, we really can't fuck before dinner," I warned, but I didn't sound convincing, even to my own ears.
"We won't," Khell said, drawing me back to lean against his chest. His hands petted down my front, skimming over my breasts. "I won't even undress you, petal. Would you like to know the custom?"
"I'm not sure. Is it…like, a custom for the house…like lighting candles at the windows?"
Even I knew how unlikely that was.
"Orc dens don't have windows," Khell said, stifling a laugh. "It's a custom for your ass."
"Khell!" I cried, trying to leap up, but I was fastened in place by his massive arm around my waist.
"When a mate is receiving guests into the home, they get spanked," Khell said, grunting as I squirmed on his lap. "Keep moving like that, and you will be fucked, pet."
I stilled for a moment, blushing, and then only moved enough to shoot Khell a glare over my shoulder. "You're making this up."
"The mate is spanked, their ass turned red and hot, so that all through the visit they feel that attention from their partner. The reminder of touch and the promise of being alone together," Khell purred.
"Only you could make a spanking sound romantic," I teased, my lips twitching. "It's usually known as punishment."
Khell hummed and frowned slightly. "I admit, orcs are heartier. A spank isn't really about pain so much as high sensation for us, the heat pleasant. If you want this, I'd make sure to adjust. But since we're only dating…"
"Oh, and if your friends were coming over tonight?" I prompted, rolling my eyes.
"I should make you a paddle before that happens," Khell said, tusks glinting in his grin. "Otherwise, you might hurt your hand."
I blinked at him. Was he joking? And why did it irritate me so much every time he said “only dating”?
"You'd really have me spank your ass?" I asked, tipping my head.
"I'd want you to. It would be up to you," Khell said with a shrug. "You know everything is always up to you, Sunny."
