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“Nadir passed on you’d see me when you could. But—” I glanced up and down the vacant corridor then grabbed his tunic and pulled him inside. “Quick, before somebody sees you.”
The door slid shut, and I exhaled in relief.
“We don’t have to hide, but I won’t turn down the invitation to come in.” His grin widened until it spread from ear to ear. “It worked! I’ve been deprogrammed. It’s all done. I’m normal again.”
“You’re not brainwashed anymore?” I blinked.
“No.” Still grinning, he shook his head. I’d never seen him so jubilant, not even on the spaceship before all the bad things had come to light.
“Oh my god!” I squealed and launched myself into his arms again.
My feet left the floor as he swung me around. His laughter filled the room. We kissed again, lips moving, tongues mating. The joy was bursting out of him, but my happiness felt bittersweet. His recovery had occurred too late for us.
At least I get to see him one last time.
But it wasn’t enough! We’d lost a whole week we could have been together. A tear slipped from my eye and trickled down my cheek. I dashed it away. If we had only one night together, I wouldn’t ruin it with self-pity. Not everybody got a happily ever after—so I would grab whatever bliss I could get whenever I could get it.
He set me on my feet, and I gazed into his warm amber eyes. I slid my hands up his chest, gripping his tunic, as if clinging to him could prevent our parting. “Y-you can stay the night…can’t you?”
“I was hoping the offer was still open.” His sweet, lascivious grin caused heat to flame and burn away some of the sorrow. He pulled me to him for another searing kiss and lifted me off my feet. I locked my legs around his hips, pressing my heels against his taut butt, the better to hang on. He strode toward the bedchamber.
“You seem to know the way. You must have been here before,” I joked.
He shook his head. “Guest suites only have two rooms, plus the cleansing station.”
“How many rooms are in your suite?” I asked, envisioning his private space as far more expansive and luxurious than the well-appointed guest quarters.
“Seventeen,” he quipped.
I giggled.
“I’m serious,” he said.
I widened my eyes. “You have seventeen rooms in your private suite? For what?”
He shrugged. “For now, nothing. Most of them go unused. But when I have a bond-mate, and we have children, the space will get used.”
Well, that almost spoiled the mood. I hated the idea of him with somebody else, even a hypothetical, far-in-the future somebody else. But I’d entered into this with my eyes open. Holly and Millie had mated with Arasetans, but they were the exceptions proving the rule.
As he set me on my feet, letting me slide down his body, I brushed against his rock-hard cock. His teasing grin told me he’d engineered the contact. This was the Lomax I’d first met—playful, flirty. And so much more. As I’d gotten to know him, I’d come to admire and respect the man he was, and I had fallen deeper in love with every passing day.
I’m going to miss you so much. Despair threatened to undermine desire, so I shoved away the depressing thoughts. Avoidance could be a very useful coping mechanism.
“Show-off!” I forced a light tone.
“Oh, I plan to show you all my best moves.”
I giggled, genuinely amused. He drew me close for a tender kiss, and then we separated to disrobe. I wore a simple tunic with leggings, easily dispensed. His attire, like his life, was more complex. His tunic fastened with a gazillion tiny buttons slanting crosswise over his chest. A cummerbund of intricate design and complicated hooks thwarted efforts to undo it.
“My valet usually helps with this,” he said with a rueful twist to his mouth. He sliced through the fabric with his claws and ripped it off. Boots and leggings proved simpler to remove, and then he was nude, except for the ankle bracelet.
“That comes off as soon as I get the all clear from the LOP,” he replied to my questioning gaze. “Ignore it. I plan to.”
I eyed him. Rich, short, sleek fur covered him from head to toe, except for his face, hands, feet, and thick cock, ridged by rings. The ankle bracelet had worn a bare patch around his leg. Skin not covered by fur reminded me of milk chocolate.
His amber eyes tender, he trailed a lazy line from my temple to my throat and down my chest over a peaked nipple then urged me onto the huge bed floating untethered in the room. It had no supports, no wires, yet never drifted out of position. Magic, I’d decided having once crawled under it to investigate.
Magic, I decided again, when we sank into its softness, and he kissed me with earnest, deep, drugging passion, revealing his longing and desperation.
