Page 33 of Taken to Lemora
He opens a door on the right to reveal a bedroom, likely guest quarters. They’re plenty spacious, though only one wall has a window. He rolls up the flap covering it to let in even more light than the skylight overhead does.
A bed large enough for two Lemoran sits against the right wall. It has a wooden base and four posters, a pearly white cloth draped between them. I wonder if Raingar has even been in this room before, because he starts at the sight of the bed, like he’s surprised to see it there, and quickly turns away from it. Crossing to the far side of the room, he pushes two chairs aside and stands between them directly in front of the window. He holds out his arms.
“You really mean for me to take off my trousers?”
“Yeffa.”
He gives me a penetrating look. “And it won’t be weird? I can’t ensure that my cock will behave itself. Like I said, I’m not used to pretty females touching me without trousers on.”
“It might be a little uncomfortable, but I promise I’ll be professional. It won’t be any different than if you were a random male coming into the shop.”
“Have you touched other males at the shop without their trousers on!” He shouts at me.
I frown, not liking his tone one bit. “They wore undergarments, but yeffa, I fitted an Asgid male and two Hypha males, Gorman being one of them.”
Raingar looks positively possessed. His gaze flits to the door and he takes a threatening step towards it.
“Raingar,” I say, voice cracking just a little. “I know you purchased me as a pleasure female, but I was serious when I said that I only wish to pleasure one male…”
“Yeffa.” His glare turns to me and it’s both frigid and frightening. “I also remember that you said you know nothing of mates.” He grabs a decorative book from the nearby table and throws it onto the floor.
I jump. He closes his eyes. Then his hands move down to the single cord that holds up his pants, shoved through some rather crude-looking belt loops, and he pulls one end. The cord flies free and his pants immediately slip down over his rear. I glance at the floor and don’t make a sound, catching just a glimpse of that behind that is every bit as muscular as I imagined, but that just means I hear everything. Every little flutter of fabric. Every little movement of his large sandaled feet on the stone floor, and then his bare feet when he removes them.
I hear as he turns. I know that he’s watching me and I know that it’s the female’s responsibility to smooth things over to create a frictionless experience for the male, but I struggle to move, affected by the thought of him bare before me, like…he might be mine to take if only I were the right female or bold enough to ruin him for the female who will come after.
I hate her with a suddenness that borders on insanity.
And his clear jealousy at the thought that I’ve handled other males without their trousers on doesn’t help. Though I’m disappointed he could think so little of me, that I’d be abusing my position in the shop with Lyla and Timor to pleasure other males. Is that what I am to him? A shameless wanton with no self respect?I’ll have to prove to him just how professional I can be, then. Even if he is the one male Idowant.
I take a deep breath.
“Well!” He shouts.
I react with a jerk, letting the fabric fall inelegantly from my hands. I gather it quickly and make my way over to him without speaking.
Kneeling on the ground beneath him, I try not to touch him as I pin the fabric around his legs. Well, I try not to touch himtoomuch, but his skin really is a fascinating substance. Not at all like sandpaper, and not even like rock, really. It’s clearly skin, so tough and leathery. Yeffa, more like leather than rock. Like rock that’s been denuded over years and heated from within. Like a planet with a molten core sealed in stone. Like Lemora. Yeffa. He’s built like his mother planet.
“What?”
“Your skin is an incredible texture,” I say evenly, trying to keep my voice flat.
It doesn’t help, because a shiver shoots up his leg, the one I’ve got my hands on. I look up and meet his eyes. He seems mountains high from where I’m kneeling in a simple shift dress I cut quickly from spare fabric. The rest of the fabric I used to construct a dress for an Asgid female. Though I could have thought of a thousand other uses for the gorgeous material, Lyla insisted I keep the spare cloth. She said it would otherwise go to waste, though I’m fairly confident that the gift was simply another in a long list of kindnesses I’ve experienced since arriving on this planet.
Nob, before that. Since meeting my first Lemoran.
Him.
“Have you seen your skin? And you thinkmineis incredible?” He balks and shakes his head. “You have no idea what the red…” He chokes, but there’s no mistaking the path his gaze travels across my neck to the wide, boat collar of my shift.
He makes a louder choking sound when he realizes he’s been caught and looks straight ahead. Rubbing one hand over his face, he touches his horns and winces. It’s become so perfunctory to see, it’s starting to bother me.
“After I finish with your pants, Iwillapply soothing oil to your horns. I can see that they pain you.”
“You don’t have horns. What do you know of how they pain me?”
I frown, confused as to why I feel offended. Did he mean to offend me? Or maybe his words are used to create further distance between us. I’m touching his bare legs and now I’m suggesting to touch his horns… I’m not being as professional as I promised and I feel acute guilt because of it.
“I’m sorry,” I say, though I don’t know why. He doesn’t say anything, either, so I just finish pinning the fabric to him in silence.
