Chapter 7

Chapter

Seven

9 9 looks a little surprised when I continue to hold his hand as we walk through the courtyard where some commanders still train into the evening. Normally, we save most of our affection for when we are alone, but I cannot bring myself to let go of his strong palm.

I notice his chest puff out a little more, like he is honored to be walking with me. His gaze trails up my arm from our conjoined hands, and he gives my hand a double squeeze. I lean into it, a wave of anticipation making me antsy the closer we get to being alone.

We both stride a little faster than normal, probably obvious as we cross through the center of the capital building toward our chambers.

A regal woman I have seen before but cannot place walks toward us like she is trying to get our attention. Her clothes are expertly made, and her plum-painted lips curl up in a devastating smile as she crosses our path.

"99th Commander, Priestess Ferren." Her eyes land on me in an expectant look.

She holds her own wrist at the front of her dress in a poised but casual way, and suddenly I remember her. She fitted me for clothing when I first landed on Viathan and I had no possessions or gowns other than the tattered one I came in.

99 had her make clothes of various styles. He even gave her my torn temple gown, commissioning her to make one exactly like it in case I wanted to wear something familiar. But I never wore it. It never felt right. Instead, I have only worn the simple gowns she tailored in all black.

Lady . . . Anne, I remember now.

I can feel 99's forearm go stiff as we greet her. I have more dresses than I will ever need, so I am not sure why she is stopping us. But from the way 99 is reacting, I can tell he may have an idea.

"You look well, Priestess." She smiles and inspects my gown and even my hair, as if it's a habitual act. "99th Commander, I had the item you requested sent to your room some days ago. Did you not receive it?" She checks my hair again for some reason.

"Our chamber is in the south wing. When was it sent?" he asks, agitated.

"Apologies then, it was left in your private room." She emphasizes the last two words in a way that makes me want to pluck her eyes out with my light.

Private. Room.

Separate, private room?

I am too stunned to interrupt for clarification. I just observe them speak back and forth, my brow so furrowed it starts to hurt.

"I left instructions," 99 says.

"Let me retrieve it for you, 99th Commander, and bring it to the correct location."

"No," he refuses harshly, and her face pales as she does an odd, little bow and leaves.

I watch as she rushes away, then slowly look to 99, only to find him already watching me, waiting for me to say something about the strange interaction.

"You have a private room?" I ask, turning with my hands on my hips.

99 rubs the back of his neck, looking more uncomfortable than I have ever seen him.

"What was Lady Anne speaking about?"

He tilts his head like I've said something perplexing. If anything, it calms any territorial jealousy I felt toward Lady Anne when I realize he might not even know her name.

"My tenement was not suitable for you."

"You lived in a different place before?"

He nods, ducking his head a little. "I was granted chambers in the capital building when I took my current rank, but I never . . . I prefer the smaller of the two." He looks so nervous, waiting for me to say something, it makes me regret glaring so harshly.

Of course he thought I would be more comfortable in a larger room with fine furnishings like my temporary one in the Estate. He has no idea how small and simple my actual room was in the lesser priestess wing.

Even though we are so closely linked, there are tiny details we are still learning about each other. It is always 99's intention to make me feel welcome and loved, and this is just a more extreme example.

"I would like to see where you lived." I place my hand on his chest, trying to soothe the frenzy of doubt I can hear rattling around in his mind.

99 takes us to the far side of the capital building, out into the main courtyard where the greenhouse is still being repaired and through a hidden alley entrance.

The pathway is cramped the moment we step into it, people busily moving to their destination, their clothes utilitarian and worn in the same cut for every type of person. The fabric varies from plain neutrals to dark shades and brighter accessories are worn by some, matching the group they are with. I wonder if they are families who wear corresponding adornments or if they simply work in the same place.

Even though the atmosphere is upbeat, 99 keeps glancing back to check on me with a nervousness that seeps into our tether. It's like he is showing me a secret, something intimately his, and unsure how it will be received.

Little shops line either side of the street, selling various items: cloth, unknown foods of all kinds, and jewelry.

99 holds my hand as we filter through smiling people who seem to make way for us. He nods in greeting when they respectfully address him, some even staring as we walk. It's clear the shopkeepers are used to seeing him by their familiar words, but the people passing on their way to somewhere else seem a little more in awe of him.

An elderly woman holding a small basket of orange, spikey fruit waves for our attention and shuffles forward.

"It has been a while, 99th Commander. How do you fair?" She holds the basket up, offering it. "Please, take these, for you and your lady love."

She smiles at me as if we have met before but beams even brighter when 99 thanks her, complimenting her harvest and instructing Commander Yeva to carry them back with us.

We turn down another street just past the woman's cart, a quieter alley with pricier-looking shops at the ground level and living quarters above, the hanging laundry a welcoming giveaway.

The buildings are all connected—where one shop ends another begins, giant structures with little pathways to walk between them.

99 halts us in front of a door with a tarnished access control panel, some of the letters rubbed away and a patina halo where it is secured to the building. The entrance sits snug between two little shops. The one next to me is bright with unnatural lighting. The person inside dusts the fragile-looking glassware where it lines the front display window.

99 presses a sequence of buttons on the door, commanding it to open. "We can go back if you like," he says hesitantly, standing just out of the threshold for me to pass.

"No, I want to see, 99." I step into a small entryway, the overhead light flickering on like it was woken from a deep sleep.

It's a communal area, a buffer from the busy street into the houses of the many people who live here. The few doors on the first level are wooden and old, but the stairs to the second floor and above are metal, like it was added on with Viathan updates.

At the top of the stairs, we approach a metal door constructed like the pilot's suite on August's ship, smooth and unassuming. He enters a numerical code into a panel and holds out a hand for me to enter first.

"This level and the one below," 99 orders my shadowing guards.

The living quarters are small, but even with the harsh lines and cold finishes, it's cozy. There is a long hallway going down the middle with stations on either side.

A small, ruffled bed is to the right, 99's desk opposite it. At the back of the rectangular room, I spot a dining area with a silver table pushed against the only window and a single, sturdy chair next to it.

Armor sticks out from a compartment designated for clothing, the door slack from the too big pieces inside. Dust coats the items left behind on the desk, the only wooden furniture item in the room. Clean patches of perfectly outlined shapes show a timeline of the possessions that were forgotten and then brought to our capital chamber recently.

He trails behind me, watching me look at his space.

I sit on the edge of his bed, running my hand over the sheets, light and ruffled. I can smell his scent faintly mixed with the uncirculated, old air.

This is his room before he knew me, where he slept and made the space his own. Every inch of it reminds me of him, all of it making perfect sense, from the square dispenser and cups for tea to the boots askew in the corner.

"I have not spent much time here since we returned," he says, resting the basket of fruit on the table.

"It's really nice." I bounce on the mattress a little and feel something hard slide into my hip. I unravel a data pad from the tangled blanket, like the last time he was here, he fell asleep reading on it and forgot. "99, you do know the room we stayed in on the Estate was not mine, right? Lesser priestess rooms are small, even compared to this."

He straightens, and I can see the thoughts spinning around his head. "I did not know."

Since I arrived, 99 has tried so hard to make me feel at home, kicking out anyone in the library, taking me past the temple in case I want to pray, and now making sure I had a room he thought I would be more comfortable in, something like the previous one he assumed was mine.

"You seemed so lost then. I wanted?—"

"I know. I am not angry with you." I stand and reach for his hand, and he instantly pulls me into his arms. I flood his mind with how overcome I am with gratitude for his always thoughtful intentions.

"I want to stay here, where you live," I say.

"You do?" He squeezes me a little tighter.

I nod into his armor. "This is perfect . . . for us."

"That is good to hear," he says calmly aloud, over the frenzy of flashing thoughts he cannot hide, me lying in his bed, my hair spread out across the light pillowcase. Snuggling so close on the small mattress, my arm and leg draped across him so I don't fall out.

I pull at the hard clasp of his chest plate to free it and then start on his right shoulder. He sways as I work to remove his armor in silence, his visor fixed on me.

"I almost forgot to tell you. This morning, I found a book on those ruins on the way to the village." I smile and run my fingers over the signet of the three worlds etched into his pauldron before working the fastening.

He grunts to acknowledge me.

"You do remember the giant fallen monuments?" I tease at his grunting reply.

"Of course."

I can hear the amused smile under his helmet.

"Well, there was a drawing of how it all looked when they were still standing. Temples all around them as well, one for each statue." I pause, making sure he is paying attention and not lost in the memory of what we did there like I was when I first found the information. "It was a sacred place, Commander."

He nods just as I finish, pulling his helmet from his head, placing it on the desk with care, and instantly running his fingers through his hair to brush the longer pieces away from his handsome face. I stand back a little to admire his body as he pulls his dark tunic up and over, exposing his broad chest.

"A place to worship . . . on your knees." I taunt him by taking a step out of my boots, pulling the ties of my dress, and letting it slither down to my feet. "Isn't that fascinating?"

He says nothing, his only movements the clenching of his fists, the force so great that the muscles in his forearms bulge.

My nipples ache against my breastband until I reach behind and unclasp it, letting my breasts fall. I watch his dark gaze roam over me as I step out of my undergarment and get closer to him, reaching for his belts.

But he grabs my wrist in a quick snatch and pulls me against him tightly, his other hand firmly cupping my bare ass. For a moment, I think he is going to press his lips to mine in one of his dizzily hungry kisses, but he stops himself right before our lips touch, the anticipation of what he will do making me wet and needy.

"No more teasing," he warns.

I know he loves when I playfully taunt him, the push and pull we always find ourselves in, but by the smoldering look he is giving me now, it's clear this time he intends to be in complete control.

I bite my lip, trying not to smile.

"Hands and knees, Priestess," he commands.

I sway at the release of my wrist and stare up at him, waiting for him to say more, but he doesn't. He just waits for me, eyes flicking momentarily to his . . . our bed.

"Yes, Commander," I finally say, loving the way his tone matches the deep authoritative voice he uses to order other commanders.

"I can't be gentle tonight."

I feel breathless at the promise of him not holding back but can't summon any words over my hot, heaving breath. I take a few steps toward the bed, my knees touching the side.

"Not after days of being tortured by the memory of my cum on your lips and not being able to touch you," he continues.

When I look over my shoulder, he is looming behind me, head tilted, his hand lingering at the buckle of his belt like it can't be unfastened until I give him what he wants.

"I said get on your hands . . . and knees . . . Priestess," he says slower.

With a resolved breath, I climb onto the mattress, my breasts swaying a little, and my stomach flutters from the sound of his pleased grumbling hum.

I brace my palms near the top of the mattress, ass arched up in the air toward him. A wave of nervousness fills me at the thought of being so exposed, but the air shifts as he walks behind me and my nerves turn into a hot coil, tightening lower between my thighs. I am panting with need when I hear the sound of his metal buckle being unfastened, my elbows barely able to hold me up from melting into the bed.

Our tether gives me a sense of his movements. He watches me, regarding my exposed, wet pussy as he undresses. I know he won't touch me yet. It's his turn to tease and drive me wild with lust.

"So wet for me already."

His patient, controlled demeanor will be my undoing.

"99—" I fist the sheets to stop myself from begging.

"Knees spread farther." The rustles of his pants and boots being removed has me obeying without question.

The mattress sinks down as he climbs on it behind me, and when I glance over my shoulder, his strong arm holding the plush part of my hip stops me from twisting.

He kisses the small of my back, then presses firmly on the top of it, a silent instruction for my front half to sink lower into the bed. I tuck my arms under me and press my cheek to the pillow, angled and presented to him.

I gasp at a dull pinch on my skin and realize he is biting into the flesh of my ass with harder force than I expected.

"Tell me more of what this book said." He licks the spot that likely has an impression of his teeth.

"Book?" I say breathlessly.

"The one with the sacred ruins."

Talking about the book is the last thing on my mind at the moment. "They held rituals to First Mother and even the old gods."

He hums deep in his throat and kisses my hip. "I love how soft you are here. What else?"

"They, um . . . They prayed there."

"And what did you do there, Priestess?"

My skin is practically on fire with the question. "I . . . did not pray," I tease.

A sharp smack fills the room, and I realize it's 99's hand across my ass.

"What did you do at those sacred monuments?"

I wiggle a little, savoring the delicious sting across my flesh, likely flush with an imprint of his strong hand. "I took you in my mouth."

Smack.

"No. Use the words you know I like," he grumbles impatiently.

"I—"

Smack.

"I licked your cock," I say quickly over a gasp.

His groan makes my pussy clench, restricting so hard that I can feel the slick slide from it and down my thigh.

99 must see it because he practically moans and kneads the globes of my ass, spreading me wide. It's vulnerable to be presented so openly to him like this, but a deep shiver within me keeps sending salacious thrills through my body that I don't want it to stop.

"That's right. I took you to a sacred place of worship and you got onto your knees and let me spill down your throat."

I gasp at how forbidden and blasphemous that sounds. I didn't put much thought into how disrespectful it truly was, but I was so overcome with need for 99 in that moment, I think I would have done the same if the sacred space was still in use today.

Smack.

I whimper at the feeling of his big hand across my skin, the reverberations rippling through soft parts of my body. My nipples brush against the fabric of the bed with each strike, making them feel over sensitized already.

I know he isn't truly disappointed that I wasn't overcome with the priestess-like need to pray. He had no intention other than to show the landmark to me. In this moment, I feel safe enough with him to explore the push and pull of what is forbidden and what is desired.

"Forgive me, Commander." I arch my back even more for him, inviting another strike across my tender flesh.

Smack.

"Forgive me, I could not help myself," I plead, trying to smother my smile in the pillow to not ruin the moment.

Smack.

"I will consider it," he whispers.

I wait for another strike, wiggling back and forth, but there is only a brief pause before I feel his hungry mouth on my core instead.

I cry out at the sudden switch of sensations and fist the sheets around my head, backing myself into him, wanting more.

His tongue laps up the wetness in a way that feels like he is devouring me. His strong hands on my thighs tighten their grip, steadying me while his pointed tongue slides into my channel. He drags his tongue up and down, but every time, he misses my clit and sends me into a frenzy of need.

"I need more, 99." I reach down between my legs, slicking my finger to circle the throbbing spot.

"You will have more, but it will be because I give it to you," he growls, sounding almost angry at my impatience and pulls my hand away.

He rises up taller onto his knees, his warm hand still holding me in place by the grasp on my hip, fingers digging in.

Smack.

I gasp and push back closer to him, but he holds me firmer, not allowing me any space to squirm away from the scolding for interrupting him with my need.

I come up onto my hands, wanting to see his expression, but that move grants me another sharp smack, so I sink down again into the position he wants me in.

He pauses, waiting for more defiance, and then says. "Are you going to be good?"