Page 14 of Ready for Her Alien Husband

“You like?”

Vrixiel did not reply, but he didn’t have to. The look he was giving her spoke volumes. Predatory. Hungry. Like he wanted to eat her up in the best of ways. Again.

Her stomach chose that charged moment to protest loudly. Vrixiel straightened and extended his hand to her. “Come,niela. Let me feed you.”

“Sure thing.” How could she refuse? One stomach rumble, and he looked as if he expected Trixie to die on him unless he got food in her system immediately. “We must not keep the food waiting.”

In one fluid motion, Vrixiel scooped her up in his arms. She relaxed in his secure hold and let herself be carried into what she would call the living room: her in an elegant dress and him, in a towel.

That ordinary-looking piece of white cloth never drooped an inch under the pressure of his powerful thighs moving. Some alien technology had to be keeping it firmly in place around his tapered waist.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Hm?” Trixie looked up, only to realize she had been peeking down at that towel as if she could will it to fall.

“You’re in a home dress, and I haven’t even bothered to cover my belly button. Forgive me.”

Trixie’s eyes rounded and she took in her stunning cocktail dress. “You mean to say this is Gaenthian loungewear? Wow.”

Vrixiel gave her an amused look. “Help yourself to the food under the non-transparent dome, my bean. I will go change into my home attire.”

Before he could set her on her feet, Trixie laced her fingers behind his neck. “Nonsense. I don’t want to have my first Gaenthian dinner in our new home by myself. If you want to change because you’re feeling uncomfortable with your, um, belly button showing, please go and I’ll wait.” She gave him the same appreciative look-over he had gifted her with in the bedroom earlier. “But don’t change on my account.”

He kissed her forearm, never breaking eye contact. “As my lady wishes.”

Oh, did she wish. Trixie bit her tongue to rein herself in. She hadn’t been this horny even as a teenager. How did the FMCs in her favorite romance novels stay out of their fated mates’ bed until after the 50% mark of the book? If someone ever wrote a book telling her love story with Vrixiel, it would be a novella with spice from the 5% mark.Jeez.

“I don’t want you to do as I wish all the time, you know,” Trixie told him as he carried her to the pink couch. “Your wishes should be of equal importance.”

Her words elicited a pleased rumble from him as he sat down carefully, mindful of his wings. And positioned her on his lap.

Trixie quirked a brow at him.

He raised one back.

She grinned and stayed where he wanted her. She hated being treated by others like a child, but in Vrixiel’s arms she felt feminine and capable of ruling the world. His lap sure was like a throne, high and precious, albeit slightly poke-y.

Trixie snuggled comfortably against his chest and breathed in his freshly bathed skin. He smelled yummy.

Her stomach growled.

“You must eat,niela.” With one arm around her waist and one wing at her back, Vrixiel pulled the table closer to them and lowered it for easy access for both of them.

He lifted one glass dome after another, revealing strangely colored dishes that would be considered poisonous on Earth. There was a plate with bright-yellow twigs she was sure would glow in the dark and only excite a pigeon looking to nest. Piled up in another plate were dark-blue spheres the size of tennis balls; their transparent exterior revealed an explosion of sparkles inside. There were also purple leaves on a stick and what looked like an avocado having dived head-first into a bowl of whiskey. Trixie was hesitant to see what awaited her under the single metal dome on the table, only to discover it hid a bowl of edamame beans.

Phew.She wanted to adapt to the local cuisine, but spending her first night here by the toilet was not how she imagined things.

Her throne shook slightly, and she tore her eyes from the bizarre buffet to meet Vrixiel’s gaze.

He was barely keeping his laughter in.

Trixie narrowed her eyes at him. “This is a prank, isn’t it? You’ve 3D-printed twigs, leaves, and mini versions of Sauron’s Palantir to see if I’d believe them edible.”

Vrixiel shook his head, mirth dancing in his green eyes. “Everything you see is traditional and completely edible.”

“Oopsie.” She worried her lower lip between her teeth.

He kissed the corner of her mouth as he laughed. “Do not be embarrassed, my special bean. I chose the most shocking dishes Gaenthia – and the mess hall’s food replicators – can offer to an offworlder. Most Gaenthians do not eat them, though they date back centuries.”

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