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That brought a scowl to Q’on’s chiseled face, though why was beyond me. “What?”
“I know the meanings of shit and crap … I do not think a mate bond is equivalent to waste matter. A mate bond is a beautiful thing, arealthing that we have. Myn’rilrespond to you like no other female, even Mili’ana. You are the mate to my soul, my heart-twin. I believe that fate, for lack of a better term from the nanites, drew my ship to your location. We are destined to be together, Amber. Mates for life.”
I gazed at my wine glass, watching the red liquid swirl inside. “I don’t know that I believe in mates for life. My ex-husband was supposed to be mated to me for life. ‘Till death do us part,’ we said. That didn’t happen.”
Strong hands cradled my chin, turning me to look into Q’on’s eyes. He stroked my jaw with a gentle touch, his eyes never leaving mine. “We are one, Amber. You and I are joined in a way that cannot be broken. Nothing will ever separate us, not truly.
“I, Q’on of Xalan, claim you, Amber of Earth, as my mate.”
Chapter 9
Q’on
Ido not understand human females. When I claimed Amber, I expected her to be joyful. Instead, sorrow and doubt clouded her features.
No matter. I will spend the rest of my long life convincing her of my faithfulness, if need be.
That night, Amber requested that I sleep in the living room. She claimed exhaustion, but I suspected there was something more to it. Her mood had gone somber since the discussion after our dinner, and she grew quiet and introspective.
I blamed her filthy ex. His betrayal soured her for future relationships, making my courtship that much harder. She refused to acknowledge our union, despite our clear connection. Our bodies fit like two pieces of ab’rin, but she rejected this fact.
The couch held much less comfort than Amber’s bed and was much colder without her warmth. Despite my sturdy Xalanite body, no number of blankets could suffice.
Unable to sleep in the chill, I opted to stay up reading. I scoured her shelves for the most-read books, the ones well-worn and showing their use, much like the selection she had given me the day before. It was my hope that in these I could discover the secret to wooing her.
I noticed a common thread in her books: they all featured romantic connections on both a spiritual and physical level. Clearly, some part of her wanted this type of connection, else why would she hoard books with this theme? Thanks to the nanites, I was able to read another dozen books during the night. I considered these educational tools, manuals for mating. Each book provided a different look into what Amber liked, what she enjoyed. I learned phrases that were intended to excite, positions for mating, even dynamics that she preferred.
Come the morning, I felt myself ready.
Amber emerged from her room minutes after her alarm blared at dawn, wearing nothing but a chest covering. A shirt. The shirt covered her plump buttocks and her sex, much to my dismay, but the deep V-shape in the front allowed me a glimpse of her rounded breasts. A tradeoff, I suppose.
As she strode to the kitchen to make the bitter brew she so enjoyed, I prepared to make my move. I walked up behind her, grabbed her by the ass, and growled into her ear:
“Who’s a good little slut for Daddy?”
Amber froze, and I waited for my reward.
She turned slowly, taking my arm by the wrist and removing my hand. Her eyes bore into mine, and she said …
“What the ever-lovingfuckdo you think you’re doing?”
I blinked, confused. “I believe it is called ‘Daddy Dom.’”
She groaned and went back to her coffee. “It’s too early for this shit, Q’on.”
I didn’t understand. I did everything like her favorite books portrayed. Why was she not responding in kind?
“Where did you even pick up on Daddy Dom?” she asked, taking a sip.
I pointed to the new stack of finished books on the coffee table. “I read it.”
She followed my arm and groaned again. “Jesus Christ. I can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?” Her hand rose to her temple, rubbing it. “Why were you reading up on Daddy Dom kink, Q’on?”
“I wished to please you. Those books were your most used. I thought that meant you liked them, and the contents within.”
“Well, yeah, I like them. That doesn’t mean I want you to do exactly what’s in those books. You’re your own person, Q’on. Do your own thing. You don’t have to mimic the books I read.”
I frowned. “But you rejected me last night. I did my own thing, and you did not want me to come to bed with you. I thought perhaps if I emulated the alpha males in these books you would be more receptive to accepting me in your bed.”
