18. Hugo

I’d always thought pretty was a word reserved for girls, action stars, and botanical gardens. It was a delicate word. Soft. It smelled like fresh-cut fruit and springtime blossoms. If it had a sound, it’d ring like bells. Pretty was the shade of my mother’s lipstick. Pretty was the color of Roark’s lovely pink skin.

It wasn’t for me.

Or at least…I hadn’t thought it was.

I’d been wrong.

Because as my gaze flickered over my own reflection, pretty was the only word that came to mind.

The white glittery dress clung to my slender frame, highlighting the dip of my waist and clinging to my hip bones. It dipped at the collar, showing a hint of nipples, the skinny straps pulled taut so the fabric kept them covered. When I twisted, I could see the pale skin of my ribs peeking out where the fabric dropped around the back. And for the first time in my life, I embraced my own appearance as I took a hesitant step back from the mirror and really stared.

My legs looked longer than usual.

My ass looked fuller.

The slit in the fabric exposed enough of my leg to tease, but not so much I felt cheap. The collar around my neck glinted in the light, and though I hated it, for a moment it was the only part of my body I recognized.

If I pushed aside what it had meant for so long, I could pretend it was only a necklace. I didn’t mind the way it hugged my throat, or the way it brought attention to my collarbones.

I didn’t look like a girl. I wasn’t sure that was possible. But the femininity of the lovely fabric made me feel complete in a way I never had. Like I’d been a half-empty cup, and never realized it till I was full.

Huh .

A startled laugh burst out as I gripped the counter tight so I wouldn’t lose my balance, and stared unabashedly. I wasn’t sure I knew the man that gaped back at me from the mirror, but I wanted to. Exhausted but vibrant, he looked like the kind of guy who knew how to laugh.

“Wow,” I murmured. “Not bad.” I’d never minded the dark brown shade of my eyes or my cupid’s bow the way I’d hated my nose and ears. But as I inspected my face for what felt like the first time in years, the features I’d often disparaged no longer felt quite so ugly.

They suited me.

Maybe I was a bit bird-like, fluffy and soft around the edges, with a too-round face, and too many freckles. But…I must not be too awful to look at, or Roark wouldn’t have asked me on a date—or taken me home, for that matter.

It was strange.

So many things were nowadays.

A gentle knock sounded at the door. I spared one last glance to the low swooping neckline of my dress, and the way the fabric made my shoulders appear broader than they normally did before crossing the room toward it.

“Ushuu, I’m almost don—” I yanked the door open and suddenly every thought I’d ever had flew straight out of my head.

All I could think was?—

Roark .

Roark, Roark, Roark, Roark.

Roark—

“Woah,” I gasped, unable to stop staring at the giant pink shark-man in front of me. He looked as serious as ever, his blue eyes soft, his fangs pearly white. His big hands flexed at his sides, like he was just as startled as I was.

He inhaled sharply.

His gaze burned hot with desire as it trailed over my body.

I didn’t even have the energy to be self-conscious.

How could I be? When Roark was standing in front of me, all nine feet of delicious, squishy pink stuffed into an honest-to-god tuxedo .

It clung to his muscles, highlighting how broad he was all over, making him somehow look both bigger and stronger than he did when he was shirtless. The sweet little bowtie at his thick throat was slightly loose, like he’d been tugging at it, but instead of detracting from his look, the messiness only seemed to add to his overall debonair appearance.

He looks so sexy.

“ Roark ,” I croaked the same time Roark groaned like he’d been shot.

“ Huu-goh, ” Roark’s voice was throaty, and full of emotion as he slid down to his knees in front of me, unable to hold himself up. Even kneeling, he was massive, his large body towering over my own as he clenched his hands into tighter fists—the bag he was holding in one of them crinkling.

My heart raced as he leaned forward, our foreheads brushing together. Just that little contact was enough to have electricity zinging through my body. I whined and Roark responded with a soothing rumble that had me settling. His breath was minty sweet as it mingled with my own, making it obvious he’d just brushed his teeth.

Was he as nervous as I’d been for this?

It certainly seemed so. It was hard to imagine Roark nervous, he was so put together all the time. That little bit of vulnerability only made my silly crush on him grow. Crush was probably a bad word to describe my feelings for the big beast, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to call them love just yet.

At least…until he said it first.

I wasn’t sure my heart could take the rejection.

With a gentility a creature as large as he was should never have possessed, Roark reached into the gift bag he was carrying and pulled out a translator just my size. It was almost a carbon copy of the one I’d been able to use sparingly on the pleasure planet. GPS locked, the devices were useful on location only—to stop thieves from selling them on the black market. Realistically, I’d known we’d have them tonight, but that didn’t make me any less excited.

My breath hitched, happiness buzzing beneath my skin as Roark delicately tucked it over my ear, his blue eyes warm with affection. He was deliberate with his movements as he turned the tiny device on, waiting for the machine to boot up. I waited anxiously to hear him for the first time since the night he’d called me pretty and decided to take me home.

I don’t know why he’d done what he’d done—why he’d looked at a broken man and seen something worth saving, but I was grateful.

“Huu-goh.” Roark sounded winded.

“I—”

“I don’t have…” He shook his head, overcome with emotion. “I don’t have the words.” His tone was reverent as one large claw caught the strap that had slipped down my shoulder and tenderly slid it back into place. “You make my knees weak.” The translator on his head blinked, signalling it was on. “You always have.”

He was so awkwardly earnest that I had to believe him.

Roark’s voice was familiar, though odd. I’d gotten so used to his garbled English and the rough grunts and growls of his native language that listening to him through the translator felt off. It was too put-together, and far too easy. It’s only for one night, I reminded myself. Enjoy it.

You make my knees weak.

I’d never made anyone’s anything weak before. I hadn’t known I could.

The low rumble of Roark’s voice echoed around inside my head as I stared at him. Stared at the tuxedo he had stretched across his massive supple pecs. Stared at the way it hugged his body in all the right places, the black fabric highlighting the striking vivid pink of his skin. Stared at this beautiful, wonderful, monster of a man—floored by his sweetness.

I’d never seen Roark wear anything but his pants and that fancy sash he’d sported when he’d first bought me. Seeing him in a tuxedo was making my heart—and my dick—perform acrobatics.

“T-Thank you,” I managed, staring at him with new eyes as excitement buzzed under my skin. “You look—you look so—” I floundered. I wanted to get this right. I needed to. “You look so handsome !” I blurted, cheeks tingling bright red. It wasn’t a sentence I’d ever uttered before, and it was hard to get out, though honest.

Roark made a happy grunt-y little noise, ducking his head, his spots turning fuchsia with embarrassment. “Thank you.”

“No, really!” I waved my hands, clutching at his wrist as I tried to gather my wits about me. “You look…I mean. Wow . Helloooo, Shark Daddy. Seriously. Like. You should be on a magazine or something—or in movies—Hollywood has nothing on you.” None of that had been very coherent. “I never—” I blinked, tried to speak again—and failed. “I’ve never flirted before—sorry if this is…you know, as painful for you as it is for me.”

“I am not in pain,” Roark reassured, voice soft. He looked as nervous as I felt. “Well, maybe a bit.”

“Yeah?” I chuckled.

“I am not good at flirting.”

There were butterflies in my belly. “I think you’re doing well.”

“I am trying,” Roark’s nostrils flared as his eyes shut for a moment like he was gathering strength. “I am not…good with words.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“I am trying,” he repeated, his eyes opening, the vivid blue as striking as ever. “For you, I will do anything. Even flirt .” He said that like flirting was the worst thing I could’ve ever asked him to do. Which was…so cute. Jesus.

“You don’t normally have an issue when you’re being all captain-y,” I said, curious.

“That is different. They are my subordinates. You are… you. I can’t get this wrong. I only have one chance.”

I couldn’t believe we’d had that exact same thought.

I grinned, unable to help myself. “Your middle name is effort, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” Roark frowned, and I snickered, though I was too distracted by how good he looked to answer the question.

I gestured at his outfit. “You’re in a tux .” Maybe Roark needed reassurance too?

“I am.” Confusion forgotten, Roark was obviously amused. I didn’t mind. Behind him the room was empty, Ushuu was long gone. I was glad, even though that might make me an ass. Because having one person witness my total brain melt was enough humiliation for one day, thank you very much.

“I love it!” I choked out. “I don’t—I mean.” I paused to get my thoughts in order. “You’re definitely getting this right. I think you might have broken my brain.”

“Impossible. Your brain is too brilliant for that.” Roark barked out a laugh, stroking a single claw down my arm with a shake of his head. “The feeling is mutual,” he added. “My thoughts are far from coherent.” His big-hot-delicious hand latched onto my hip, fingers tickling against the silky fabric as he gazed at me. Roark’s eyes flashed black for a moment at the same time his spots grew molten red. There was no doubt in my mind that he liked what he saw.

“A dress , Hugo?” Roark murmured, stricken. “That is not fair . How am I supposed to let you leave the room without touching you?”

Grinning, I stood taller, my nerves all but forgotten. I never should’ve worried that things would be awkward between us. They weren’t. I reached up to shift the translator he’d put over my ear more comfortably into place. It hadn’t occurred to me until now how absolutely emotional being able to speak to Roark freely would make me feel. If I didn’t get ahold of myself I was going to start blubbering. And while I knew Roark wouldn’t judge me, ugly-crying was not hot.

Pretty one, do not cry.

I will make it okay.

You make my knees weak.

You always have.

Since we’d met I’d collected each of Roark’s sweet words inside my heart. Keeping them close at hand for the days when I felt weak.

My eyes were wet as I fanned my fingers over the back of Roark’s hand, still trying not to cry. “You’re looking pretty hot yourself, big guy,” I managed, voice rough. “I can’t believe you found a tux in your size!” Sure, a lot of aliens in the lobby had worn similar clothing. But none of them had been close to Roark’s size.

Roark grunted, spots flushed pale pink with pleasure. “Finding one that fit was no easy feat. Ushuu helped. I can’t take credit.” His voice was still warm, but stiff.

Did talking to me make him nervous?

Is that why he’d been so quiet the day we’d met?

That was…flattering to say the least.

Roark chose each word carefully and slowly, like if he didn’t pick the perfect ones he’d rather not speak at all.

“You are correct, it is hotter than I am used to,” Roark added, jolting me from my thoughts. He frowned down at his clothing like it had personally offended him, plucking at the mussed collar where it hugged his thick throat.

Hotter than he?—

Oh.

I snorted, shocked by the sound as I slapped a hand over my mouth. Apparently translators didn’t understand slang.

“I can imagine! I mean…you never wear clothing up top—I assume because your skin needs access to the air to be able to function properly. Two layers must feel like a lot.” I chewed my lip, buzzing with excitement as the threat of tears faded.

Get back on track, Hugo.

“S eriously, though.”

The look Roark gave me made me tingle, like he thought I was clever—and like he was…god, like he was pleased that I understood him. Once again, he was seeing me—in a way that no one else ever had.

“The word ‘hot’ on Earth can sometimes be used as slang for ‘attractive’,” I tried to explain.

“Ah,” Roark’s nodded.

Breathless and flushed, I croaked, “When I said that what I meant was that you’re sexy. Really sexy.” Stop acting so weird! This is just Roark.

“I see,” Roark’s voice was gravelly soft.

His eyes bled from blue to hungry black.

I shivered.

The glance we shared was multi-layered. Hot as a dry summer day, with longing simmering underneath the heat. Roark’s nostrils flared. He shook his head, the black arousal that had swum over his eyes fading back to pale blue.

Centering himself, like a switch had flipped—my beast became a gentleman once again.

“I have something for you,” Roark managed. He reached inside the bag he carried for the second time that night. What else had he brought? He’d given me more gifts in the last week than I’d had in my entire life.

My eyes widened when he pulled the object free.

It was a bouquet. A lovely collection of colorful foreign flowers. They were strange-looking, and I was pretty sure they had teeth—but…I loved them for their oddity. They were perfect. Interesting in a way red roses never could be.

No one had ever given me flowers before.

“T-Thank you,” I took the bundle gingerly in my arms, startled when one of the blossoms snapped at me. It narrowly missed taking a chunk out of my bare shoulder. Before I could react, Roark snatched the bouquet right out of my hands. His eyes were wide with alarm as he looked down at the flowers like they’d personally betrayed him.

Which, I mean, I guess they had.

“They are carnivorous,” he choked out, horrified—like he hadn’t realized. “Apologies, little one.” And then he quite literally chucked the entire bouquet across the room—as far away from me as possible.

I doubled over, snort-laughing. God, he was cute.

“I can’t believe you just threw them like that,” I blurted out between giggles.

Roark stared at me, spots a vibrant fuchsia. “I am so sorry?—”

“Roark,” I cupped his face in my palms, amazed by the way he immediately settled. “I love them.”

“They tried to bite you.”

“They did,” I agreed, his giant teeth only centimeters from my face. “But I love them, still.” I gave his head a little shake, smooching his snout with a happy hum.

“Oh,” Roark’s spots lightened to pink again as his eyes fluttered shut. He made a soft sound like a content cat. “Next time I will do better.”

“Why didn’t they bite you?” I asked, curious as ever.

Roark blinked. “My coloring,” his spots shifted a variety of colors so fast I couldn’t keep track. “They must think I’m poisonous. It didn’t occur to me until now.”

That made sense.

I loved learning new brilliant little things about his species.

“Are you?” I asked.

“W-what?”

“Are you poisonous?”

Roark huffed in offense. “No.”

“Good to know.” Feeling more confident than I ever had before, I peeked at him through my lashes, dragging my gaze down his heaving pecs to his thick belly, and the lump of his cocks where they nestled between meaty thighs. “Because I really like tasting you.”

Roark sputtered like I’d just electrocuted him. Taking pity on him, I returned my attention to his face just in time to catch the red tinge to the spots on his forehead.

“Can I see the flowers again?” I asked, holding his face gingerly in my palms. Roark wavered. He was obviously worried they would try to bite me again. Meanwhile, realistically, I wasn’t sure they’d even be alive after the way he’d brutally smashed them into the wall. “Please?”

With a sigh, Roark gave in.

He was careful as he extricated himself from my grip, and rose to his full height. Twisting, he made his way toward the discarded bouquet.

Damn . That ass though.

Seriously, he deserved an award.

It flexed, bouncy and full as Roark crossed the room, the tight black pants he wore clinging to every curve and crevice. I bit back a groan when he bent over. Roark was careful as ever, as he gathered up the abused flowers.

It still amazed me how a creature so very large could be so gentle.

When Roark returned to my side, he looked more settled than when he’d left. Like the fact I’d given him a mission to complete had settled him. The flowers were a little worse for wear, but not entirely ruined like I’d worried.

I held my hands out expectantly.

“Huu-goh…” Roark fretted. He obviously did not want me anywhere near the bouquet. But we’d built a lot of trust between us—and I knew, if I gave him a moment to settle, he’d realize that I was more than capable of handling this particular threat myself.

Besides, I was curious.

And he liked that about me.

“ Please ,” I repeated, waiting patiently. “I’ll be careful.”

It took a few seconds of deliberation, Roark’s brow bone furrowed, but eventually he relented. His blue eyes remained narrowed as he very carefully handed me the bundle of flowers.

He truly couldn’t have given me a better first bouquet.

The blossoms were even lovelier up close. Closer to small, petaled creatures than they were to the plants we had back home. Excited, I examined their tiny, toothy faces, making sure to hold them far away from my body so when they snapped they couldn’t reach.

I was so glad he’d given me these—teeth be damned.

We were on an alien planet, in space after all, and my date was the toothiest, largest creature I had ever encountered.

It would’ve been a shame to receive flowers that were anything but extraordinary—and despite the fact they were a little dangerous, and a whole lot weird—that’s exactly what this bouquet was.

Extraordinary .

Just like the person who’d given it to me.

Roark hovered over me, ready to snatch the flowers away the second it looked like I was in danger. But I never let their teeth get close enough to my body for him to truly worry. Partly because I didn’t want to get chomped—but mostly because while they’d been hardy enough to survive the first toss, I wasn’t sure they’d survive a second.

“You like them,” Roark observed.

He sounded unsurprised. He was used to my curious bullshit by now. A fact that made me feel warm all over.

“I do,” I grinned down at the little creatures with wonder. “They’re so tiny but so resilient.”

“Tiny, resilient things are my favorite,” Roark flirted stiffly, clearing his throat afterward like he was still shy. I got the feeling he wasn’t talking about the flowers. My cheeks warmed, and I ached to reach out to soothe his nerves.

I retreated into the bathroom for a moment, gently laying the bouquet on the counter for later. When I returned to Roark’s side, I held a hand out for him. Roark latched on to it, pulling me against his sturdy chest. A purr started up, the buzzing sensation lulling me into a sense of calm as I buried my face between his pillowy pecs, all my earlier unease forgotten.

Roark was a man of action. And though his communication was somehow even more awkward than my own, I never once doubted his intentions. I could feel how earnest he was with every beat of his hearts against my own. Two hearts. Because one wouldn’t be big enough for a person as kind as he was.

It was weird being able to talk to him.

Super weird.

But in a nice way.

A very nice way.

The weight over my ear from the translator was a reminder that this wouldn’t last.

I need to make every moment count.

“No one’s ever given me flowers before,” I blurted against his chest, safe enough there I felt I could admit this. Roark grunted in question. “Back on Earth I was kind of a loser,” I admitted, ripping off the Band-Aid early. It was surprisingly easy to get the words out with my face hidden against him. He smelled good. His body was solid against my cheek as I wrapped my arms around his waist and he nuzzled my hair.

“No matter how hard I tried I was…invisible. The only thing I had going for me was the fact that I was the ‘brainy’ kid, but even that ended up meaning nothing in the end.”

“I…” Roark’s hearts were beating so incredibly fast as he gathered his words, “don’t understand.” Roark scoffed, like the idea of me being ignored was ridiculous.

I laughed, because he was sweet—and predictable, and I wasn’t surprised he thought so highly of me—not after the way he’d treated me.

“How could someone as vibrant as you ever be invisible?” Roark reiterated.

My eyes burned and I squeezed them shut. “I’ve always been easily forgotten,” I admitted. “That’s why it’s so…weird that you…”

“That I what?”

“That you see me…the way you do. I’ve spent so long being inconsequential I thought that was my lot in life. But then you came along. And you took me in—and you treated me with such kindness. Which is why I don’t know what to do with this—with… you .” My heart was pounding. “I mean—this is a date, isn’t it? Ushuu said it was.”

“Yes,” Roark confirmed. “I am courting you.” He sounded proud of that fact, and wasn’t that a mind-fuck of its own. Roark. Being proud to be with me .

“Courting me?”

“Yes.” Roark murmured—and no words had ever settled my heart faster.

“Why?”

“Because you are mine.”

“Yours?”

“Yes.” Roark cleared his throat. “From the moment I saw you in that window, you have been mine.” His hearts thumped erratically. “Don’t you…feel it too? I thought…”

“You thought?” I swallowed the lump in my throat, off-kilter as I decided how I felt about that particular statement.

“I thought you wanted this.” Roark sounded so lost for a moment it felt like I was breaking.

“Of course I do,” I replied immediately, now fully aware of what I was agreeing to. “Of course I want you.”

Roark relaxed with a gusty sigh, melting over me like he’d been terrified I was about to reject him. When he began purring again, I squeezed my eyes shut, inhaling his heavenly scent. Masculine and sweet all at once. Kinda pineapple-y today like his cum.

He was steady, solid, and delicious.

And I’d been right about him.

Right about what we’d become—even if I’d gotten it wrong at first.

Did that mean that the leash had been to…to protect me? Not because he saw me as property, but because I was precious, and he wanted to keep me safe? I belonged with Roark in a way I’d never belonged anywhere else—because that thought made me feel warm.

“Does that mean you’re going to keep me when we get to your planet?” My words were muffled, but no less important. “Because I don’t—” my voice broke. “I don’t want to be without you.”

It was something I’d fretted about since the day he’d bought me. I was property, whether I liked to believe it or not. The fact I’d been bought meant I could be sold just as easily.

Roark rumbled softly to soothe me. There was no room for misinterpretation, as his next words echoed in the space between us, a balm over my tattered heart. “If I had my way, Huu-goh, you would never leave my side.”

My eyes burned and I shuddered, melting when his hand rubbed steady circles against the center of my back.

“You would never be lonely,” Roark added softly. “You would never know hunger, or pain, or fear.” Rub, rub, rub, I shook beneath his palm. “I’d replace your bitter memories with new happy ones. You would forget how it feels to be unseen. You would have so many choices and opportunities you would lose track of them all. Every day I would be honored that you chose to stay at my side.”

My heart felt cracked open.

This was like my sixteenth birthday all over again, except instead of leaving me to gather my brittle pieces alone, Roark was right beside me, picking them up and putting them together. Until I was a newer, better version of what I’d been before. Roark made it clear I would never have to beg for his attention. In fact, the way he spoke made it seem as though he was the one begging for mine.

God, if you’re out there, let me keep him and I’ll never ask for anything again.

“What’s wrong, little beast?” Roark murmured, his purr vibrating my cheek.

I hadn’t said anything, so I could see why he was concerned. My silence probably made him worry he’d said the wrong thing. Which couldn’t be further from the truth. I just didn’t know how to process such a frankly beautiful declaration.

Roark was waiting for me to speak, so I said the first thing that popped into my head, because admitting that I’d been praying to keep Roark was too embarrassing.

“I don’t know how to dance.” I blurted out. And because I was the worst—I just kept going. “I didn’t go to prom,” I tried to explain.

He made a confused sound.

“It’s like…a formal ball, like this one. Except for older teens, and hosted at schools. You get together and it’s meant to be this big fancy thing that everyone talks about for the rest of all time.” I moved, chin digging into his chest as I looked up at him. I figured that the translator didn’t have the word “prom” in its dictionary just like it hadn’t had the second definition for “hot”, so I continued to explain.

“Boys usually ask the girls—but I was…I mean—I’ve always been—I just—” Spit it out, Hugo , I chided myself. “I’ve never liked girls like that, so I never asked anybody. Even if I had, I honestly don’t think they would’ve said yes.” I chewed on my lip. “Plus, I was way too chicken to ask a boy. No fucking way. Uh-uh.”

Get to the point.

You’re rambling.

“So my formal dancing experience is in the negatives. And I…don’t really know how to act at like…fancy events. We did some parties back on F’ukYuu. I worked them, I mean. But shaking my ass and spinning half-naked on a pole is a way different skill set than what I’m assuming is required of me tonight. And I’m pretty sure you would be shocked if I started twerking out there. And I really, really don’t want to disappoint you. Tonight is important.”

Roark was silent, obviously trying to process my words—but I still kept going, unable to stop now that I’d started. “I know this is supposed to be super fun and you put so much work into it—and we just had an awesome moment!—but I have to admit that I am seriously terrified you’re going to realize I’m a loser the second we get out there—because I am—obviously—and I don’t know what I’m doing—and I’m just—I’m just trying to manage your expectations.”

Wow. Word vomit.

A lot of word vomit.

I guess after months of not being able to talk to him—it all just…wanted to come out.

“Huu-goh,” Roark murmured, chest rumbling as he stroked a hand down my back. “Slow down.”

I sucked in a breath, held it, and released it—nodding. “Yeah, yeah.” I pulled him tighter, continuing to stare up at him though my heart was pounding. “You’re right. I should probably let you talk, huh?”

“You are not a ‘loser’ because you don’t know how to dance,” Roark’s voice was as soothing and solemn as ever. It was so different hearing him like this—fully coherent. He still had a bit of an accent but it was easy enough to tell what he was saying. The translators did a bang-up job, honestly.

“Oh, I know how to dance—” I corrected him with a leer. “But only the slutty kind.”

Roark snorted in amusement. “A skill that I am sure was necessary for your survival.”

“Yeah,” I nodded, weirdly touched that he understood that. “It was.”

“I remember your dances,” Roark rumbled. “ Fondly .”

My belly flipped.

I seriously had not expected Roark to ever say that. In fact, I’d been under the impression that he’d been kind of offended by my performance. Only…I thought back on it—trying to remember what color his spots had been. Sure, they’d been changing a lot…but I was pretty sure in hindsight I remembered red in there somewhere.

Damn.

Before I could recover from that —excuse you Mr. “I am not good at flirting”—Roark gently pulled me from his body, far enough that we could speak better— wow . Wow. Roark in a tux was breathtaking. Eye-candy galore. I’d never get over it.

“I have been coming to this planet for over twenty years,” Roark explained, “and I have never attended any of these events.”

I nodded.

“I was a quiet child. I kept to my studies, always watching over the others at the orphanage rather than indulge in entertainment. There was no time for parties or games when The Great Calamity hit. After we discovered the cure to the illness that had plagued our people, I was even less inclined to play. I joined the military the second I was of age,” Roark continued, keeping his voice soft. “What little I know of ‘dances’ and ‘dancing’ comes from the handful of mating ceremonies I’ve attended over the years, and the videos I watched on my HoverPad in preparation for taking you out tonight.”

Oh. Oh. “So you’re saying that you don't know how to fancy dance either?” I probably shouldn’t be giddy about this. But this was the most information I’d ever learned about him, and I tucked every new tidbit away protectively inside my heart.

“No,” Roark said seriously. “I don’t.” He let that sink in for a second before continuing. “If not knowing how to ‘fancy’ dance is what makes one a loser, I hope it soothes you to learn we are on equal standing.”

“So we’ll…”

“Fail together?” He arched his brow bone and I grinned, my belly full of butterflies.

“Fail together,” I echoed, no longer feeling quite so unsettled. “I guess that’s not so bad.”

“No, little one, it’s not.” Roark huffed out a breath that ruffled my hair, looking so impossibly handsome it made my head spin. “There are far worse things in life than earnestly attempting something and looking silly.” He stroked a finger over my cheek, making me shiver all over again.

“How has no one snatched you up?” I asked, unable to help myself. I immediately regretted the question, not sure it was appropriate—but Roark laughed in response, so I figured it was fine.

“I would not allow it, even if they’d tried,” he purred again, leaning down so his long slithery tongue could snake out and tickle the place his finger had just traced. “I have no interest in anyone but you. Besides, I prefer to be the one that does the snatching.” And then he did just that—yanking me into his arms like I weighed nothing at all. I shivered—trying to hide how aroused I was by his easy manhandling as we headed out the door to our room, down the hallway, and into the same gold elevator I’d rode up.

I didn’t think about the unfriendly eyes.

I didn’t think about my insecurities, or my past.

I didn’t think about the human-like man I’d seen in the lobby.

Or the world I’d left behind.

And now that Roark had made his intentions clear, the labels I’d given myself disappeared. I wasn’t a slave. I wasn’t a pet. Wasn’t a loser.

I was just a dude on my first date, with someone who made my heart race.

And we were just two people who couldn’t dance, but wanted to spend the night in each other’s arms anyway.