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I said his name like a prayer. “Anton.”
“Tell me you want me, Grace. Tell me you want this with me.”
There was an urgency in his plea, a bone-deep need that made my heart throb. The wondrous feel of him filled me, surrounded me. The deep rumbling of his voice sent tingles to my nerve endings. The desperate hunger in his eyes set my body ablaze. How could I not want him?
“I want you with everything that I am.”
“Grace… my beautiful Grace. You’re all that I want.”
I don’t know how long our joining lasted. It was gentle, tender, and fervent. Our climax wasn’t the devastating tsunami of our usual tumbles. This time, it swept deep, rocking me to the very core of my being. Afterwards, I clung to him, fearing he would push me away. He gathered me into his arms and held me close.
As sleep claimed me, I heard him whisper, “I’m keeping you, Grace.”
I smiled.
Chapter 18
Anton
The last three weeks with Grace opened my eyes to how cold and empty my life had been. Things were good,reallygood between us. The way she looked at me, touched me… She made me feel attractive, desirable, wanted. Not the type of adjectives non-Braxian women attributed to our kind.
With my wealth and status, I’d had more than my fair share of beautiful women. Human females loved my body and what my money could do for them. But I had no illusion that they cared for me or my face. It was a mutually beneficial agreement; they got red carpet treatment to VIP venues and events, most of them seeking to advance their entertainment careers, and I got to fuck gorgeous women and flaunt sexy arm candy when socializing. Braxians, including half-breeds like me, had a voracious sexual appetite. While we could get hard at will, we couldn’t soften on a whim, and rarely without release.
Since Grace, my orderly, predictable, cold world turned upside-down. I liked the man I became around her; more relaxed, less concerned with protocols and image. Grace still thought I worked too much but my schedule significantly lightened. It was ironic to think that for years, I’d run the largest entertainment network in the Eastern Quadrant of our galaxy yet hardly ever enjoyed any of it.
Usually, I sat through a performance studying the customers’ reactions to see what to improve or leverage in other shows. But Grace had the most delicious way of distracting me from work. By her scent, ‘distracting’ me excited her. It was a blessing her sexual drive kept pace with mine. I wasn’t an exhibitionist myself. However, I knew Grace was dying to visit Sade and for us to put on a bit of a show there. For her, I would do it – once I found an outfit that covered her enough throughout the action.
The way things were going between us, I felt confident Grace would stay with me of her own free will at the end of our contract. After my outburst at the opera house, it became clear to everyone that Grace wasn’t some temporary squeeze; she was my woman. In my heart, Grace was my mate. The patrons and staff also treated her as such now. She blossomed under the attention and deference they lavished upon her.
We didn’t discuss our relationship. With a little over three months left on her contract, we had time to decide. My clan remained the problem. They wouldn’t accept Grace as my mate. However, as long as we didn’t have children, she could be my concubine. They would demand she behaved like a Braxian consort when Braxian delegations visited. I couldn’t see her agreeing to that. My people didn’t treat women kindly. I didn’t want Grace acting like a Braxian woman, a concubine, or a slave. While I didn’t mind some of the greeting rituals, the rest was just too demeaning.
As expected, Gerwin’s clan raised a stink about their banishment. But since I had them by the balls, Clan Leader Caldes soon tempered his tone and agreed to apologize for the slight. However, my father made it clear Gerwin offended me. Therefore, he must formally apologize to me.
I could have kissed my father.
My own clan cringed at my father’s verdict. Gerwin refused. Pride forbade him to beg forgiveness from a half-breed. He chose banishment from his clan instead. On the heels of that announcement, the Magnar himself requested to meet with me in person.
That meeting was tonight.
I delayed as much as possible before telling Grace. As my consort, she needed to be by my side. This is where things would get tricky. By Braxian law, female slaves were free for all. Any man who wanted a slave, even while a guest at another Braxian’s home, could expect her to submit. Consorts were off-limits. That said, common courtesy required the host to offer his consort to guests of similar or higher rank.
Most Braxians groped the concubine as a sign of appreciation for the gesture, then released her. Not fucking her showed your esteem for the host. However, not all Braxians observed that unspoken rule, especially if the woman was particularly attractive. Only a mate couldn’t be touched under any circumstances, nor would she be offered.
I didn’t know Magnar Ravik. From all accounts, he was progressive, which wasn’t well-received by some of the elders. Times had changed but Braxia lagged behind, groveling for scraps. I hoped Ravik was progressive enough to treat me with esteem despite my half-breed blood and not demand too much from Grace.
Him granting me an audience was a huge honor. That he came here rather than summoning me to Braxia gave me hope. However, Clan Caldes had been highly influential under the reign of Magnar Sigmer, Ravik’s father. Under Sigmer’s rule, half-breed hunting became a sport. Rumors claimed he had owned a trophy room covered in skulls of half-breed he personally killed.
Sigmer had brought Braxia to the verge of bankruptcy by not adapting to the changing times. His unexpected death stirred a sigh of relief from the embattled younger generation who saw very few prospects for their future. Things noticeably improved under Ravik, but it would take more than two decades working with a reluctant council to fix nearly a century of mismanagement.
Every time things were getting better with Grace, Braxia came and fucked with us.
I stood outside our bedroom, trying to work up the courage to break the news to Grace. With a heavy sigh, I pushed the door open. She sat on our bed, a bunch of holocards scattered before her. They were the portfolios of musicians, backup vocalists, and dancers she was considering for her new show.
There was something strange in the look she gave me. Grace gathered the holocards and placed them on the nightstand. She patted the mattress beside her for me to sit. I complied.
“I guess you’re finally ready to tell me what’s been troubling you all day?” she asked softly.
“Was it that obvious?”
