Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
“Thank you for the dress,” she says. “I hope it fits. It’s so beautiful.”
Dress.
Ahh, that is what she calls them.
“Calix made it for you.”
Meant to be worn indoors only, he reminded me. Just as she described them to me before, this dress is meant to just look pretty. If she were ever to leave the facility—which she rekking won’t—she’d need a proper minnasuit and zu-gear over that.
Her bottom lip wobbles. “That is so sweet. Let me try it on.” She rushes into a closet. While we wait for her, Oz brings me the box he had stowed away. I graciously accept it and wait for her to come back out.
“I don’t know,” she calls out from behind the door. “It’s awfully daring.”
My heart aches. “You do not like it, my mate?”
“Oh, I love it,” she says. “It’s so regal. But…”
“Come,” I insist, my impatience making it come out like a barked order.
The door creaks open and she steps forward.
Oz makes a choking sound, and I can’t take my eyes off her. The midnight-blue material of the minnasuit fits her like a second skin. Just past her hips, the material flares out rather than fitting on her legs. Her small feet are hidden.
She laughs, and her breasts that are pushed up, looking quite tempting as they threaten to spill from the top, quiver with her movements. I’m rekking mesmerized. Oz sounds like he’s struggling to breathe.
“I take it you like it?” she says and preens. Playfully, she spins around in a circle and the material magically swishes around her.
“Mortania, you are the best thing my eyes have ever seen,” I utter, my voice husky.
“I second that,” Oz agrees.
I shoot him a sharp look that has him backing away a step. My ears flatten against my skull and I bare my fangs.
“Cool it, buddy,” she sasses as she makes it over to me. “I only have eyes for one male here.”
I grip her hip and then run my palm over the material along her ribs. “Mine,” I growl.
She laughs again, the sound the happiest I’ve ever heard her. “Yours. You’re such a caveman.”
“I’m ready for this date, and then I want to peel this suit from your body, little alien. I want to lick every inch of you, especially between your thighs—”
“Breccan!” She looks over at Oz, who wears a sheepish grin. “We have company.”
I want to growl and rage at him to get the rekk out of here but he’s helped me so much. Honoring his hard work, I hold out my palm to her. “Jareth and Oz made this for you.”
She takes the pieces of flattened zuta-metal that clink together and strung on a thin rope, and holds it up. “They made me a necklace?”
Oz saunters over to us, pride in his every step. “Yes,” he agrees. “As you will see, we pounded out the shiniest zuta-metal we own. Breccan mentioned the ‘jewelry’ you were so fond of. We worked hard to imitate the design. I hope you’ll find it to your liking.”
She pulls away from me to hug him. I want to drag her back into my arms but I know my little alien hates when I “get all crazy”, as she says. She’s softer to me if I let her make her own decisions. And right now, she is deciding to hug Oz. A friendly hug, I might add. When we hug, she likes to grab my bottom and squeeze.
“Thank you,” she breathes. “Will you help me put it on?”
He beams, his double fangs on full display, as though she has gifted him the highest honor. I watch in amusement as he ties it around her neck. The biggest piece of zuta-metal hangs down and hides the line her breasts have created by being squeezed together. I decide that I like this zuta-metal necklace because my morts won’t see a part of her that I am desperate to lick.
She turns to show him, and he smiles so hard I wonder if it hurts. My sweet little alien is so good for my men. One solar soon, I will make sure they have their own aliens. In due time. I’m hesitant to wake them because we still don’t know enough about them. Not to mention, there isn’t enough to go around. And choosing happiness for one while denying another isn’t on my high list of things I’m eager to do.
“It’s time,” I tell her and hold out my hand.
She grasps it and links our fingers together. When it’s quiet and we’re alone, this is one of her favorite things to do. I like the way her pink fingers look beside my pale white ones. How we fit together in some unique way.
“This is too kind,” she says as we walk down the corridor. “I’m just so happy.”
I puff out my chest and grin. “That was the intention. That is my intention with everything I do…to make you happy.”