Chapter 4

four

. . .

Thundar

She glowers at me. It's cute, I cannot fib.

"Ha! In your dreams, ogre. What, you spend all of two seconds with me and you think you know me?"

I like the way she acts like she doesn't want me. Like a fire doesn't light up behind her small human eyes every time she looks at me. Like she's not affected by my presence.

"I'm not familiar with ogres. Are they charming alien princes who make human girls wet with a kiss?"

The way her jaw drops as if I've offended her is a thing of beauty and makes me want to reclaim those lips, that tongue. But I hold myself back. Despite appearances, I'm not a monster.

Drakking Hailar. He should have told her what to expect. He should have explained the situation. The process. The rituals.

He knows it's only right. Liberating our brides is primitive enough as it is. He knows I never wanted to force anyone to be with me. That I want my chosen mate to have some agency in the matter, even if it isn't much of one anyway.

But I'll worry about him later. For now, I'm stuck in here with the princess, which, if my instincts aren't fooling me, isn't going to be such a horrible fate after all.

"You… you… you're a vulgar man. You know that?" she says and crosses her arms as if she's made an incredible, irrefutable point.

I'll let her have that. I'm vulgar.

"It's the way of our people. We speak our minds, not hide behind… clothes, and complicated words."

She frowns with a huff and looks away from me.

And to think only a moment ago I had her pinned against me, her heart pulsating as if it had been beating in my own chest.

"I believe we've started on the wrong foot?—"

"Wrong foot? How about I shove a whole fucking foot up your ass, and show you how wrong this whole situation is."

"Is this a kink you have?" The way her face contorts tells me she's not in the mood for my humor so before she can reprimand me yet again I open my mouth. "I apologize. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

And it's the truth.

Whenever I pictured myself with a wife it wasn't with one who hated my guts for uprooting her life and trapping her in a loveless marriage.

Well, in fact, whenever I pictured myself with a wife it made me sick. Married life isn't for me. I don't need to be married to know it. I've seen the results of this wretched tradition all over, on my friends, family, and strangers alike.

What I want, what I truly want, is to be free. Free to kiss, free to drak, and free to love a woman without a hidden purpose behind it. Without a mandate to provide heirs to the throne. Without the clerics tracking my every move, her every cycle, our every encounter and–shudder–give us pointers.

"And I'm supposed to believe you?" she asks.

I shake my head and clear my thoughts.

"I'm genuinely sorry for how things have transpired. If I could change things..."

"What kind of a prince are you if you can't change things?"

I look up at her and see her defiance and strength. How she refuses to succumb to her fear, and her determination to speak her mind. She may be small and physically weak, but there's no denying that she can be a formidable opponent.

As much as this situation has become a debacle, at least I picked a worthy woman to be my mate. There's that consolation. Now whether she'll think I'm worthy of her too remains to be seen.

I guess that's why the isolation interlude exists. To make her see me. The real me.

"Unfortunately our traditions overrule even me."

She grimaces and places her hands on her hips, the move accentuating the shape of her body and making her even more desirable than she is already.

Gods help me.

"Well, I don't think I've heard bigger bullsh—" She catches herself, then lets out a heaving sigh. "No, wait. I have. Perhaps we're not so different after all."

"Perhaps we're not." I agree.

We stare at each other for a few moments. This is probably the first genuine connection we've had beyond the physical, and despite that, I still feel the desire coursing through my body. Desire for her. For those eyes to look at me like that for the rest of my days. For her lips to decorate my skin like trophies, for her fingers to trace every muscle. Before I know it I'm hard again and this time, I don't think it'll be as easy to get rid of it. Not when my dick craves her touch more than it's ever craved anyone before.

There's a sound from the other end of the room which makes her jump. The thing balled up on the bed starts yapping once more, as if trying to ward off an invisible threat.

"Wha-what was that?" she asks.

I smile at her and turn to the door, where the sound originated. I approach it and open the service hatch. When I return to the bed Alexandra's eyes open wide and the Thing is doing circles around itself, staring at the tray.

"What is all that?" she asks.

"This is our nuptial nourishment. All harvested from the most nutritious, most luxurious, most pristine parts of my world."

There are red berries from the jungles of Borg, dragon fruit from the caves of Lorganoth, capsicae from the desserts of Fair, seaweeds from the Tarthgon ocean. The best my planet could offer.

I hold up a red berry to her. "Here, try it."

Alexandra makes no move to take the fruit, staring at it suspiciously.

"Have faith. It's perfectly safe for humans to consume."

Still, she hesitates.

"I've liberated you to be my bride. Why would I go to all that trouble only to kill you now?"

Her lips flatten into an expression I'm beginning to understand denotes annoyance. But she plucks the fruit from my hand and pops it into her mouth.

She chews, then pauses, then gasps.

"Ohmygodthesetastesogood." It takes me a moment to process her words, garbled as they come out, but it's a joy to watch her lips turn dark red from the berry juice. She's irresistible and I want nothing but to drizzle all sorts of delectable treats over her naked body and lick her clean, but for the third time, I hold myself back.

There should be an award for princes who go against all their natural instincts and restrain themselves.

"What on earth are these?" Alexandra asks as she delicately rips into a dragon fruit with her fingertips. She leans over the tray to pop the morsel into her mouth and a stray drop of juice lands on her chin. She squeals and brings the back of her hand to her lips while searching the tray for something.

"What are you looking for?"

"Didn't they give us napkins or something?"

Napkins? Is that some variation of stealing goats again?

Alexandra sees the confused expression on my face and rolls her eyes. "Never mind. I shouldn't be surprised that you barbarians don't use napkins." She lifts another piece of dragon fruit to her mouth and moans low and throaty.

The sound goes straight to my already hard dick. "You like them?"

"Mm-hmm. They're so good. I'm starving."

She's ravenous, which begs the question what else did Hailar keep from her before I walked through the door? Had my subjects starved the poor woman? That's not a part of the mating ritual. Can I order their heads on a platter from in here?

But all thoughts of execution dissipate the longer I watch her, my princess, savoring the fruits of my planet, the goods of her new world. It's as if she's dropped a beautiful elaborate mask and I can finally see her true face. It's quite something.

"Aren't you going to eat something?" she asks and bites into a capsicum before I can warn her.

"I'm okay. Please enjoy whatever you like." Watching her is more than enough.

"Shoot, this is hot." She fans her face and sticks her tongue out. Her skin turns an adorable shade of pink.

"I was going to say..." I fill up a glass of mylk and offer it to her.

Her fingers brush mine and they send pulses of want through me. As if I needed any help in the department. But I resist myself and watch her down the glass.

A little drop of mylk falls on her gown making it thinner, and more pliable, giving me a perfect impression of her hard nipple underneath and I can't help the groan that escapes me.

"Oh my god, I'm a mess. What's wrong with me?" She tries to wipe the spot away but only succeeds in getting more juice on the thin fabric. The transparent patch grows, sticking to the bare flesh underneath.

She blinks at the spot, her breaths coming in faster and shallower. Then she lifts her gaze to me, eyes filled with heat. It appears the aphrodisiac in the food works very rapidly.

"You like what you see?" Her voice is but a purr and it does nothing to satiate my hunger for her.

"Very much," I grumble.

She bites her lip and sets her glass down. Her gaze is pinned on me as she picks up a berry and presses it between her pouting lips as if she's teasing me. As if she knows the kind of effect she has on me. As if she knows how much I'm throbbing for her.

She bites into the berry and uses her tongue to suck on it and sweeps her eyes over the rest of my body. She stops at my groin area and lets out a muffled gasp.

"You like this, huh?" she asks although it's more of a statement.

I glance down and sure enough, my hard cock is making a tent out of my cloth.

"I want to drak you, my princess."

Well, no one said Aysgarthians are shy about our needs. That's why we rarely ever covered them.

Alexandra narrows her eyes and looks back at me. Her fingers graze past her chin, over her neck, and settled over the edge of her robe. She slides her hand down, the fabric parting under her guidance and revealing her perfect earthly skin underneath.

"You're playing with fire, princess."

"Maybe I like getting burned." She whispers and I feel her toes brushing my ankle, and calf, slowly making their way up my thigh.

I growl and close the distance between us. I've held back long enough. There's only so much a man can take before he bursts, and I'll be damned if it's not inside her, with my name trapped between her lips.

The Thing barks at the sudden move but Alexandra pushes it off the bed and it continues to give a peculiar soundtrack to our kiss but from a safe distance.

I reacquaint my tongue with hers, her taste sweet and saccharine and perfumed. She feels alien in my arms but tastes perfectly like home.

I lower her back down and climb on top of her, careful not to crush her under my significant weight. A quick tug at the ties at my hip and my cloth falls away, releasing my cock from its confines. It teases at her entrance and she quivers a moan in my mouth that only sends me deeper off the edge than I already am.

How can she make me feel like this so easily, so effortlessly, as if we were born to be, made for each other, destined for our paths to cross?

I support myself on one hand and use the other one to trace her body, over every inch of skin until my fingers find solace in her soaking pussy. She flinches with each digit that runs across her folds and I swallow each and every moan like it's the only sustenance I need.

My hair gets a mind of its own trailing down to her chest, wrapping around her breasts like ropes while other strands flick over her hard nipples eliciting more delicate, effervescent sounds from my princess.

Her legs tighten around my exploring hand, trapping me to her, and I tease her entrance with a tip. She opens her eyes and the way she breathes ragged and desperate is all the invitation I need to push my finger inside her. She arches, throwing her head back and biting her lip in an effort to quieten her pleasure. I place my thumb over her clitoris and massage it gently at first, then the more fingers I add inside her, the harder I press.

"Pl-please, Thund… Thundar! You're torturing me."

I pause and slide out of her.

"Am… am I hurting you?" I rest my wet hand on her thigh and I see the goosebumps that form all over her body as a result.

"Hurting? What are you talking about? Don't stop now. God, I'm so close!" She reaches for my cock, wrapping her fingers around my length. "Fuck, you're leaking."

"So… you want this?" I ask in a strangled voice. I want to be sure my translator isn't malfunctioning again.

"No, I don't want. I need. I need you inside me. Now."

She guides me to her pussy and we both gasp on impact.

Her pussy pulses as I press against her and drive myself inside inch by inch, breath by breath. She's small. Tiny for my people. I have to be careful. I don't want to break her. No, I want to take her apart and put her back together with every fiber of my being.

"Oh God, Thundar. You're so… big." I catch her breathlessness in me and claim her mouth with the same softness I claim her pussy.

Intoxicating sounds rise from her core as I push myself as deep as I can. We're both so wet and needy. Sliding in and out of her is easy. It's her tightness that drives me to the edge. The way she clenches around my dick with every thrust, aided by her legs around my hips pressing me closer to her, giving me no chance of a reprieve, just more pain and pleasure in equal parts.

We fall into a rhythm, a dance that feels as natural to me as taking down a rhinneet on the plains of Okan. I'm so close to coming undone, it takes everything I have not to let go. Because I want to savor her, I want to be inside her, I want to feel her for as long as possible.

"Don't stop. Don't stop now, my big strong barbarian."

I can't help but growl in her mouth. My hair wraps around her wrists and pin them over her head and I use my hand to cup her breast. It's so soft and pliable under my big palm I can't resist. I wander down to her and bite her hard tight nipple, lick the skin around it, kiss the cleft between her tits, smell the oils and fruit juices she's covered in like she 's the delicacy before claiming her other breast the same way.

Her soft gasps turn steady, like a series of explosions that burst through her and threaten to make me spill. How much more can a man take? Not much because my orgasm claws at the pit of my stomach and it's only a matter of time before I come undone inside her.

Well, if I'm going down, I'm not going down alone.

I move my hand down to her pussy and flick her clit in a hard erratic manner. She comes, crying out and arching her back. I close my eyes, feeling her against me, her nipple in my mouth, her hands trapped under my hair, her clit pulsing under my thumb, her pussy clenching around my cock.

My balls tighten and my whole body jerks as I spill inside her. She catches her breath and even though the post-orgasmic fatigue spreads through me, I keep going. I keep massaging her, plying her until she squirms under me.

I free her breasts so I can kiss her again, so I can taste her once more. She kisses me back, her face relaxing under my gaze and the sweat making her skin glisten like a star.

"My princess," I murmur against her mouth.

She cups the side of my face and tries to open her eyes.

"My… my god," she pants.

I smile at her and kiss her cheeks. Then her neck. Her collarbone. Her breasts. As I move further down on her, I slide out of her and when I trap my cum coming out of her pussy with my tongue, she whimpers and clamps my head with her legs as if she wants me to keep going. As if she doesn't ever want me to stop and the truth is...

I never want to stop either.