Page 39 of The Pregnancy Pact

Ellax

During Lorelai’s absence, I had finished drawing up the pact, readying it for her to peruse. Afterward, feeling uncharacteristically jittery and anxious, I’d decided to shower in order to distract myself, as well as pass the time while awaiting her return.

I’d just stepped out of the shower in my bathroom when I heard loud knocking on my door, accompanied by a feminine voice demanding,

“Open the damn door.”

The voice belonged to my new human wife. She must have returned from the ship’s fitness center and I’d not thought to give her the code to enter our room. Yes, the door was activated by my voice, but it was also inscribed with a specific code, known only to me, that I could give out to whom I pleased. I’d not thought to pass it to Lorelai. Here we had discussed her conducting herself as a proper politician’s wife, and there she was, in the corridors of the ship, locked out of her own bedroom and demanding to be let in.

I hastened to wrap a towel about my hips and hurry towards the door. I opened it abruptly and she—caught off guard from beating on it—lost her balance and stumbled into the room. I moved to catch her, preventing a fall. For a moment, she half lay against me, her face pressed into my bare chest.

“Are you well?” I chuckled, amused in spite of myself. “Did the fitness center defeat you?”

At the sound of my voice, her body shook, as if jolted awake. She turned her head upwards, her face towards mine. Humor fled as my gaze drifted towards to her lips. I was reminded of our kiss earlier, and how my body had ached to take hers on my bed. Or the floor. Or the chair. In truth, where hadn’t mattered. I’d simply wanted to take her. Now, here she was, with nothing more between us than a towel about my hips and her borrowed clothing from the fitness center, which could be easily removed. Or rearranged; shoved out of the way.

I could lean down. I could kiss her again. I could…

Her eyes snapped into focus. She jerked herself free of my arms.

“I’m fine, thank you,” she said. She stumbled backward, into the wall, leaning against her arms. “I finished my workout, I showered, and I changed into clean clothes the gym attendant offered. I feel great. However, If I’m going to be staying here with you, I need the code to open the door,” she snarled. “I don’t enjoy being at your mercy as far as coming and going. I’ll also need the number to your phone,” she continued, as I edged the door shut with my foot.

“Anything else?” I asked dryly, turning to face her.

Only then, did I notice how her gaze was latched onto my body and the pinkness of her cheeks.

“It would be nice for you to put some damn clothes on,” she said shortly.

“Why?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest. Unlike many human males my age, my waistline had neither thickened nor grown soft. I was well aware that my body remained in prime physical condition. Judging by her clear signs of embarrassment, she was well aware of it too. “When you clearly enjoy looking at me?”

Her dark-blonde eyebrows lifted. “When I clearly enjoy…what? Wow, a little full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“What does that mean?” Occasionally, human expressions were difficult to understand. “How could I not be full of myself when I am myself?”

“Oh—oh, never mind,” she said, frustrated. She spun to walk away from me. “If the pact isn’t signed and we’re not sleeping together yet, you don’t get to walk around naked.”

Moving quickly, I dashed in front of her, throwing an arm to the wall to block her.

“The pact is written,” I said, my voice low. She gazed up at me, her eyes wide, her face close to mine. “We could celebrate that milestone by lying together. After all, I haven’t much to remove. The matter would be easy.”

I saw her throat constrict as she swallowed. Her gaze dropped to my waist, then came back up to my face.

Surely, she’d not refuse me. No female of any species refused me.

My own wife, however?

“No, thanks,” she said, her voice tight and hard. She reached up to knock my arm down, forcing her way through. “I can wait. I want this done right. I have to protect myself.”

She forged into the room, leaving me bitter with disappointment and practically writhing with aggravation.

I would conquer this female. When the time came, I would take her in such a way that she would beg for it afterwards. I would make her forget any human with whom she’d ever mated, and I would make her body sing with things it had never felt. I vowed this to myself as I stalked into my closet to dress.

Unaware of my thoughts, or uncaring, she called after me, “You did finish the contract, then? I’d like to read it.”

“Before or after I dress?” I asked through gritted teeth, uncomfortable and yearning for a bedmate. Not simply any bedmate. My wife. Stars! The more she resisted, the more she challenged me, the more I yearned for her. I was frustrated and needed the release she denied me.

“I can wait,” she replied, her tones cool. I imagined her sitting outside, her hands folded in her lap, taunting me. Testing me.

Growling a few Asterion curses under my breath, I selected fresh clothing and arrayed my body, then stalked out of the closet. I went to my desk, which I’d left open, fetched up the screenpad, and thrust it at her where she perched on the edge of the bed.

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