Chapter 15

Sophie

There was no greater feeling than stepping in front of a man and seeing him completely gobsmacked at the sight of you. Walking out after spending a great deal of time on her hair and nails and face, just to witness the raw appreciation of his expression made it all worth it.

The alien clothes were amazing. They tightened by a seal that kind of functioned like a zipper, without actually zipping anything. The fabric just pressed together and stayed that way. The top kept her breasts up without extra support or a painful bra. The skirt didn't ride up or feel like it was going to droop down. The material was something called flower silk, and it felt like liquid on her skin. And the shoes, despite being gorgeous, strappy heels, made for people with two toes, felt like heaven on her feet. They might have been made for any foot, actually, now that she thought about it, since they had the same fitting seal technology as her clothes. However they were made, they were comfortable.

Beauty without pain, it was everything she could ever dream of.

"Are you ready to go?" She asked, passing Serval with a sassy flick to his chin.

He closed his mouth, swallowing quickly, scrambling to follow as she walked towards the door, her new combot trailing her. She already had selfies to post later, but tonight wasn't about adding to her socials.

They were working a story, and her role was the distraction. She intended to play it well. She could tell her efforts were already effective as they moved through the front of the hotel, out towards the street, and everyone was staring at her with wide eyes and open mouths.

Humans, she heard it said, were the sexiest creatures in the galaxy. Both in terms of looks and actual sexuality. She wasn't sure how true that was, she was rather biased since she only knew her own species, but she worked her body to its maximum potential as she strutted towards the open door of the hover, Serval following like a lovesick puppy.

She was playing a part. She was in control. She was powerful. She imagined she had a sword in her hand and moved with the confidence that such a weapon demanded.

When she sat down, she crossed her legs so that the slit opened, displaying them, and the iridescent, sparkling cream she had rubbed on her skin, like a show in a grand theater. Serval followed after, sitting down at her side, staring with dark, appreciative eyes.

"Sophie," he growled, leaning over her as the hover lifted up.

She smiled, head dropping back. She had gotten tips from Kiseck and the other girls at the dress store for how to do her makeup. The current trend on Holivair was to create elaborate, colorful wings off of the eyes – like a butterfly's wings – that enhanced their eye colors, complimented their outfits, and shined bright on their dark skin.

Sophie had opted to go a more human direction. Her lips were a vibrant purple, wet and shiny and begging for kisses. Her eyes were subtle and golden, highlighting the brighter colors of her eyes, with long, sweeping lashes, that brought more attention to the shape of her face. If she was considered beautiful for being human, she wanted to be human. Let the others show off incredible colors on their faces – she would just show off her face.

She could tell that Serval appreciated the effect. He was consuming her with his eyes as his olules struggled within their confinement.

"By the way," she started, sultry and low, "Jeanie is asking for a photoshoot."

"What?" He blinked, clearly unprepared for trying to think.

Sophie laughed, high and happy, breaking out of her sexy act. She said again, more normal this time, "Our deal? With Jeanie and True Match? They want us to take pictures together for their ad campaigns."

"Right," he swallowed again, staring down at her breasts now. "That will be… just fine."

She snickered. "Focus, Serval. You have to have some power of thought tonight or this whole mission will be a bust."

He hummed, leaning in close. She jumped, moaning softly when she felt one of his olules trailing down the back of her neck. The sensitive skin reacted harshly to the sting, making her back arch and her pussy clench as her toes curled up.

"Don't pretend that you are unaffected by me, lov'alel. Or you will be walking in with slick between your thighs just to tease everyone with the perfume of your need for me."

The words, hissed deep and threatening right in her ear, made her shiver, biting her lip to avoid breaking into a long, drawn out moan. She shifted, already feeling the heat between her legs, even as her eyes darted to the front of the vehicle.

The cool, flying car they were in – sleek and sexy, like a showroom luxury car all in white and gold – had a driver/pilot behind a privacy screen. But it was only tinted, she could see the back of his head as he flew them through the dark stone and bright lights of the city.

"Don't look at him, lov'alel," Serval ordered, one of his hands sneaking up her bare thigh. "He can't see you. He can't hear you. Oh, but I bet he knows what we're doing back here. What male would be able to resist his female, looking the way you do?"

She shivered again, her legs loosening, starting to fall open as he stroked up the smooth skin and her head dropped back against the seat.

"That's it," Serval praised, stroking the inside of her thigh with his thumb. "Open for me."

He started saying something she didn't understand, speaking a language she didn't recognize. Not Standard, and not la'laelel – the primary tongue on his home planet and a language she already had imprinted and so also understood.

Whatever he was saying, it was in a low, deep, crooning sound that made her whimper as his fingers trailed up. Up. Up…

She gasped as he stroked the seam of her panties. Growling in approval.

"That's my good female," he praised, kissing the side of her head with his lips as his olules kept barely caressing her neck, giving her brief electric stings. "I knew you'd be wet for me."

"Serval… Please…" She begged, canting her hips up. Needing more.

He chuckled his approval. And pulled his hand away.

Sophie let out a cry of dismay.

"Later," he promised, sitting back, bringing his fingers to his lips. Sophie could only stare as he licked them reverently. He hummed, eyes closing. "Like the sweetest of wines, chilled in the depths, never having seen the light."

"Tease," she accused, pouting.

"Perhaps," he smirked at her. "But you loved it. And your face is flushed so prettily now. You will show them my mate, how beautiful and perfect and sensual she is, and they will all be envious of me because they know no one will ever get to taste you the way I do."

The possessive way he looked at her as he cleaned his fingers made her belly cramp with unfulfilled need, but before she could demand he do something about her aching pussy, the hover came to a stop in front of a gorgeous mansion. Or a palace. She supposed if a prince lived there, it must qualify as a palace, but she was too needy to care about semantics at the moment.

"Come, lov'alel," Serval said, pressing a button that opened the door – moving upwards instead of out – at the base of a walkway that led to the front door. All done up in lights and dark flowers with just the hint of color in their black petals.

"What does lov'alel mean?" Sophia asked, standing to step out after him.

He offered his hand, pulling her to her feet, as other guests immediately began to gasp and turn. Being blatant, near rude, about it. But she barely noticed, much less cared.

"It's the language of the deep," Serval said, his olules waving lazily behind him. "A language only really understood and appreciated under the water. It refers to a particularly powerful rip current, yanking the unwary out to sea, tossing them head over fin, dragging them off course. Just as you have done to my life, lov'alel."

A grin pulled at her lips as he took her by the hand and pulled her forward.

Time for the show to begin.