Chapter 19

NINETEEN

God, he was beautiful.

She ran her hand down his bare chest, between the enticing V of his burgundy robes, over sculpted silver.

Bea could hardly believe he was here , in her modest apartment, burnished by the setting sun, holding her in his arms as if they’d known one another forever.

They were standing on her little balcony, which was half-concealed by the large heliconias growing in pots.

She didn’t care if the neighbors saw them.

It was still early days, but the Kordolians were here to stay, and humans were just going to have to get used to them. From what she’d witnessed on the Fleet Station, it was clear they had no intention of hiding.

Mavrel had arrived exactly on time, impeccably dressed, and with perfect manners. He’d brought a gift—a sublime violet, turquoise, and emerald-green vase from a distant planet called Veronia. Crafted into intricately patterned glass from minerals that didn’t even exist on Earth, it was the most exquisite thing Bea had ever seen, and she’d exclaimed her astonishment over and over again, and that seemed to please him immensely.

After talking over drinks while seated on her old, comfortable velvet green sofa, she’d served him dinner—crispy fried whole tilapia fish, with the addition of sweet potatoes and steamed greens for her. She knew for a fact that Kordolians mainly ate protein, and she was rewarded with witnessing his obvious satisfaction, for he’d eaten not one but two of the succulent fish, making low noises of appreciation in his throat—sounds she’d never heard before.

In fact, there was something raw and primal about the way he’d reacted to her cooking. She’d even found that aspect of him arousing.

After dinner—she didn’t bother with dessert because she also knew for a fact that Kordolians didn’t like sweet things—they’d talked some more, about Kordolians, Earth, and the wider Universe, about their respective families and their jobs, about their hopes and dreams for the future.

Which were now hopelessly intertwined.

She now knew that Mavrel was a bit of a workaholic. A stickler for detail. Difficult to rattle except in the most unexpected of situations—like meeting her.

Outside of his Kordolian duties, he was interested in the natural world, and he wanted to see more of the wild and untouched places on Earth. He liked studying the architecture of different civilizations.

He seemed to have an eye for detail.

Well, so did she—in a different kind of way.

The last vestiges of the long day were slipping away, turning the air cool, shrouding them in surreal twilight.

In the distance, the city hummed, faint voices drifting upwards, air whooshing as vehicles sped past, dogs barking, birds cawing.

Bodies pressed together, he twined his fingers through hers. There was a stillness about him she hadn’t felt before. She sensed he was perfectly happy being here with her, and yet his mind was in different places at once: perhaps quietly working over complicated problems or shielding her from unfathomable Kordolian things.

She found that peculiar combination of darkness and contentedness impossible to resist.

With her, he was sweet, open, and patient, but he couldn’t hide who he was or where he’d come from.

And she’d caught the crest of a change so monumental she had no choice but to let it sweep her away.

Perhaps that’s what she’d sensed in her subconscious when she’d accepted the invitation from the Kordolians.

“You’re the most extraordinary visitor I’ve ever had,” she murmured, entranced by how the waning light of the long summer day illuminated his elegant features.

She wanted to kiss him, but she didn’t dare yet because once she did, it would all be over.

She’d have no choice but to surrender to the inevitable.

As it was, Bea had barely been able to keep herself in check throughout dinner. She’d caught herself ogling him a few times—as had he, though he hadn’t seemed to mind at all, responding with a sly, subtle smile each time.

“This is the first time I’ve ever set foot inside a human’s home,” Mavrel replied, his low, smooth voice sending a ripple down her spine. “Suffice to say, I’ve never felt so welcomed and catered for. This kind of feeling, of being content in a small space… I never could have imagined such a thing existed.”

Bea remembered the Kordolian Fleet Station—how intimidating and efficient and militarily utilitarian it all was. She’d been a little apprehensive about how he’d perceive her humble little apartment. “This is what home feels like to me. I hope you’ll see it as an extension of your home now, too.”

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “I could honestly disappear from my duties and hide here. I would happily shirk all my responsibilities and ensconce myself here with you for an entire season. I can arrange remote deliveries of all supplies. I would devise a thousand ways to pleasure you. I’d make you want for nothing, leaving no doubt whatsoever in your mind that you are mine. ”

Suddenly, the atmosphere changed, and the tension that had been building between them for the entire evening threatened to burst forth.

Bea knew he was putty in her hands right now. She could entice him to her bed and he’d be helpless to do anything but follow.

He was so eager to please her, too.

What a fucking wet dream he was.

Exhilaration coursed through her. Her instincts had been right, but not even in her wildest dreams could she have imagined he’d turn out to be this good.

But… there was something she’d been wanting to do from the start, and this feeling between them now…

She wanted to capture it before it disappeared, for she knew this wouldn’t last—the newness, the excitement, the thrill of discovery and uncertainty. Over time, it would deepen and solidify into something different, something more.

She wanted to savor it all.

“You’d better come inside now,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “There’s something I want to do with you… if you’ll allow it.”

“Anything,” he replied, following her lead as she took him through the sliding doors and back into her apartment.

“Don’t you want to know what it is?”

“Not until you show me. I normally don’t enjoy dealing with the unknown, but when it’s you, I find I want to be surprised all the time because all of your surprises are good.”

“You give me too much credit. I’m sure there will be mundane or even annoying things about me from time to time.”

“I doubt it. I’m too far gone.” He tipped his head slightly as they passed through her small dining room and back into the lounge. “So, what is it you want me to do?”

Bea stopped and took a step back, creating distance between them. She tried to look at him the way she would one of her usual subjects—and failed.

He was too damn gorgeous.

Never mind. This was all part of it, right?

Heat spread across her cheeks, rushing down into her chest, suffusing through her body, potentiating the arousal that had tormented her all blissful evening.

“I’d like you to undress and take a seat in that chair over there.” She nodded toward the big, winged Chesterfield armchair in the corner—an antique she’d salvaged from an auction.

“Oh?” Mavrel smiled indulgently. Clearly aware of the effect he had on her, he slowly stripped to his skin, dropping his clothes on the floor in an insouciant, almost arrogant manner. Then, reminding her somewhat of a cat, he walked across to the big chair and sat down, elegantly arranging himself with his long legs extended, his lean, powerful arms draped across the armrests, his long hair slightly tousled and cascading over his chest and shoulders.

He could no longer hide the fact that he was aroused—it was plainly obvious to her.

Bea’s breath caught.

It was dark inside her apartment. Only the golden glow of a single floor lamp and a few flickering candles on the dining table allowed her to see.

Mavrel was shrouded in shadow, framed by the large, old chair.

“The shades, too,” she ordered, her voice cracking.

He peeled off the dark lenses that had protected his eyes, letting them drop onto the soft carpet.

His eyes were barely visible in the dim light.

Suddenly, his Kordolian features made perfect sense. Darkness was his natural element. He wore it like a second skin.

Right now, he could see her better than she could see him.

Hands trembling, Bea walked over to the sideboard and opened the drawer that contained her drawing materials.

She found her sketchpad and charcoal pencils.

Then, she sat on the sofa opposite, where the lamplight was brightest.

She started to draw.

Mavrel flowed under her fingers. Lines. Shading. A smudge here and there.

She drew him as easily as she breathed, for she’d already memorized these planes and angles, this living, breathing sculpture of a man, who was hers.

She graced his intense gaze with shadow and curved his lips with sensual memory.

He barely moved, somehow sensing that she was working.

In fact, he was almost preternaturally still.

The last of the daylight disappeared. Time flowed.

And she knew the exact point when she was done.

This portrait—it didn’t need too much.

Too much would ruin him.

She ripped the page from her book and took it to him. “There you are. A gift from me to you. This is how I see you.”

For a moment, Mavrel was unnervingly still and perfectly silent, and doubt crept into her thoughts, just enough to make her wonder if she’d somehow upset him.

But then, his eyes widened.

His lips parted, revealing his gleaming fangs.

He inhaled deeply, and his body trembled.

“H-how did you do this?” There was awe in his voice.

Consumed by the fervor of the moment and on the verge of dragging him into her bed, it was all Bea could do to offer him a slight shrug. “I don’t really know. I’ve been drawing for as long as I can remember. It’s just… a human thing, I suppose.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he whispered, the intensity of his gaze raising the fine hairs on her arms. “This is… me?”

She’d drawn him both fluid and precise, mostly in darkness but with soft light reflecting off the sharp angles of his face.

“So this is how you see me, hmm?”

“It is. Don’t you think it looks like you?”

“It does. It’s exactly me. You’ve rendered me through a human lens—in a way that no machine could ever do. You’re both merciful and harsh… and you desire me right now.”

“You could pick that up through my drawing?”

“No. It’s your scent.” He looked at her, then back at the drawing, then at her again. “Amongst other things. I’ll treasure this for as long as I’m alive.” With great care and precision, he set her drawing down on a side table.

Then, he rose to his full height, and Bea whimpered softly as she saw his magnificence.

Silver-and-dark. All Kordolian.

He stalked gracefully across the room, arriving before her in a few steps.

He stood above her, cock erect, eyes filled with desire. This was different from before. All sweetness and restraint were gone. There was something raw and primal in the way he looked at her.

Nobody had ever looked at her with such pure desire.

At last, she was undone.

“Come to me, Beatrice,” he whispered.

As if in a trance, she rose into his embrace, melding against him, feeling the hard insistence of his cock against her lower belly.

He slipped her dress up over her. She crossed her arms, allowing him to lift it over her head.

A low rumble escaped him as he realized she was naked underneath.

She’d been naked the entire time, savoring the way his presence made her so aroused, heightening the sensation of the coarse linen fabric of her dress as it slid over her nipples and ass.

She stood with her legs wide, allowing him to slip his finger inside her and feel her wetness.

“You devious little human.” His lips were beside her ear, his breath warm on her cheek. He nipped her earlobe. She laughed in delight, her voice thick with arousal. “You can’t tease me like this all the time. You’ll ruin me.”

This was it.

Her wildest dreams made reality.

Everything she’d feared had turned out to be nothing, and what she thought she was getting into had turned out to be much, much more.

At last, Beatrice understood the rumors, the stories, the myths. They weren’t exaggerations.

This was really happening.

“I can tease you as much as I like,” she said softly, “in the hope that you’ll ruin me beyond salvation.”

Even though he already had.

And he would again.

“Then, you have no excuse,” he replied, taking her into his arms and gently depositing her on the sofa. “And no recourse.”

On his hands and knees, he prowled over her like a big, predatory cat.

Dangerously, fervently, reverently, he kissed her long and deep—as if savoring the last traces of his restraint.

Then, that too was gone, leaving them nothing but transcendent bliss.