You carry my heart,
Your Elder and Superior Sibling
* * *
The window installation started just after dawn and continued until the storm loomed over the foothills, turning the sky an ominous gray. This winter storm promised significant snow and high winds. The workers left at mid-afternoon, leaving ample time to arrive safely in their home. They would return in two days if the roads were passable.
The new windows had shutters that oscillated closed like the lens of a camera. Those secured automatically. The older windows, especially the broken ones, had to be secured by nailing plywood over the vulnerable glass. Wind speeds in a storm topped out at just shy of the fantastic. Any stray debris, even as small as a pebble, would shatter the window and send glass flying. By the time Talen, Charl, and Quil secured all the windows, the sky was completely dark.
Bright called them into the kitchen for the evening meal.
“Where’s Georgia?” he asked, noticing the empty spot at the table. The female avoided socialization, at least when Quil or Fiona were present, but she never skipped meals. They used that time to compare notes for the day.
“How should I know? This house has been so cold today I spent the day in bed. Alone,” Fiona complained, tossing a pouty look toward Quil.
“I had important matters to attend to,” Quil said.
“Your wife is an important matter,” she said.
“Very.”
“And I felt neglected.” Another pout and Quil ate it up, promising to spend extra time together, perhaps a trip.
The expense of those trips added up. He should say something to Quil, but it would only lead to an argument. His brother would hear nothing negative about his mate.
“She said she was cold and wanted to warm up in the bathhouse,” Charl said.
“And you didn’t stop her,” Talen accused.
“That was an hour ago. She had time to return before the snow arrived.”
Outside, snow already fell but did not yet coat the ground. The wind had yet to arrive. Georgia was still out there, possibly unaware of the severity of the storm. If she did not return to the house soon, she would be trapped in the bathhouse, a structure with no door and a ceiling that opened to the sky. Staying there offered as much protection from the elements as standing in a field.
His worry took a dark turn. She could have slipped or fallen on the stone steps and fractured a bone. Humans were fragile. They broke so easily. He saw plenty of broken human legs and arms in the Navy. The sailors put on a brave face and never admitted the pain. Georgia was a civilian. How would she tolerate the pain? She could be unconscious, passed out and bleeding.
Blood would attract predators, particularly mornclaws. Violent storms often uncovered egg clutches, causing them to hatch and seek prey. That was another reason to secure buildings from flying debris. Mornclaws would seek out the heat of a home, especially in the winter.
“I have to find her.”
He grabbed his coat and a powerful flashlight and headed out the door. He shouted but heard no answer. The wind stirred, cold against his face. In thirty minutes, the storm would arrive full force. Maybe an hour if the stars were kind.
Thankfully, he did not find her in a broken heap on the stone stairs. She was in the bathhouse, floating in the coppery water, eyes closed in serenity. The pale tips of her breasts crested the water, along with the swell of her belly and her thighs. Her dark hair fanned out around her, like some enchanting sea creature. Snow drifted in from the oculus in the ceiling, melting into a fine mist when it hit the warm air.
“My mate!” His shout echoed off the stone walls. Startled, she splashed, sinking down in the water. “Apologies, I didn't mean to shout.”
Submerged in the water from her chin down, the green water obscured her form. She watched him with narrowed, suspicious eyes. “Can’t I have a little bit of privacy? And I’m not your mate.”
“We don’t have time to waste on that tedious argument. The storm is nearly here.” He normally enjoyed teasing her, just to see the flush of color in her complexion, but they had no time for such flirtation now.
“Then stop bringing up that tedious idea that I’m property you can trade like… like I don’t know, something tradeable. Goats or some shit.”
Spying a thick towel and a pile of her carefully folded clothes, he extended the towel toward her.
She kicked and swam away from him. “The snow’s not that bad.”
Spoken like a novice. “The snow is not the issue. It is the wind,” he said.
She dipped under the water and reemerged, slicking back her wet hair. “Two ideas,” she said. The coppery green water hid her form. Only the tops of her shoulders were visible. “We should rent out the house for functions and events.”
“We rent rooms to guests.” He would fail if he tried to rush her, understanding that his mate was a stubborn one. She’d dig her claws in and hang on tightly. They still had some time to return to the shelter of the house safely.
“Yes, and the house is amazing. It was built to entertain, you said. People will pay good money, a lot of money, to hold weddings and parties here. You even have a ballroom.”
“That requires refurbishment.” But he could see the potential.
She dipped under the water again. “Then we hire some people to get it finished. The conservatory is a photogenic and intimate place to exchange vows or hold a small event. In the summer, we can set up a marquee on the lawn.”
He made a non-committal noise.
“We have ten rooms if people want to stay the night, which is perfect for smaller events. For the larger ones, we’re not that far out. Besides, I’ve been looking at the market, and there’s nothing comparable in Drac. If someone wants to get married and have a party, they do it in their backyard. It’s a good idea.”
The confidence in her voice was unmistakable.
“And the other idea?”
“We should fuck,” she said.
Chapter 9
Georgia
G,
Get it.
-Freema
* * *
This wasn’t like her. This was rash and impulsive, a bad idea in progress, and her heart raced with excitement.
The way he looked at her, like he wanted to toss her over his shoulder caveman-style, made her shiver, in a good way. Naked and wet, she wanted him to throw her down to the floor—okay, maybe onto a towel on the floor—and fuck her senseless.
The day had been so frustrating; she just wanted to feel good. Despite being introduced as the house manager, the window installers refused to follow her directions. Every question, every decision, they just ignored her and ran off to Talen, only to have him repeat her words. The shitshow took twice as long as it should have, resulting in the windows running way past the estimated three-day installation. With the storm setback, it’d take a week, easy. She had to cancel guest bookings, which was lost revenue and a black eye to the house’s reputation.
If she’d been on Earth, she’d order a pizza, eat ice cream right out of the container, and wallow in self-pity.
But she was tired of wallowing. She came to Corra to do something different, something exciting, and right now that excitement stood in front of her and had a sexy-ass tail.
“I like you,” she said, feeling the need to explain herself. “And I’ve been thinking about you, that way, since day one. I know this is a bad idea because you’re my boss—”
“I’m your mate.”
“And I’m not staying. I’ve tried to be good and follow a life plan, but that didn’t work. I tried to be spontaneous, and that didn’t work. So maybe I should just enjoy myself? Today was bullshit and I should have some fun.” The words spilled out. If he said no, fine. She’d have an answer and would stop thinking about him every night, wondering. “Can’t two adults who are attracted to each other have fun without commitments or any expectations? No strings attached, that’s what I want. Me. You. Naked. Sweaty. Fucking.”
He stared at her, his tail frozen and his ears back.
Not exactly the reaction she expected. Her face burned so hot with a blush, she thought she might burst into flame. That was as explicit as she’d ever been in her life and she desperately wanted to claw the words back. “I’m sorry. I thought… but I misread. Obviously. You don’t think of me that way.” She swam toward the edge of the pool, where he still held out the towel.
“I do think of you that way,” he said.
“It’s nothing, probably just proximity and hormones.” The attraction couldn’t be real. The more she thought about it, the more obvious it became. “Forget I said anything.”
She grabbed the towel, but he did not release his hold. For a moment, they both tugged on the cloth.
“Listen to me, my heart. Yes, I agree. You have many clever ideas, about which I am very enthusiastic, especially the last one. But now, we need to return to the house before the winds pick up. It is already snowing heavily.” He pointed to the ceiling, where fluffy flakes came in fast but melted immediately. “Now please dry yourself and dress quickly.”
She climbed out, momentarily worried about what he would think at the squishy roll of her waist or the jiggling of her butt, but she ignored that moment of self-doubt. If he didn’t like the look of her fat ass, better to know now.
Still damp, she tossed her sweater on and wiggled into her jeans. Shoving her feet into her boots, she peeked at Talen, gratified to find him watching her with a ravenous expression. If she had any doubts about his attraction to her, the cockstand he sported cleared that up.
Okay, not turned off by a fat ass.
He hadn’t been joking about the wind. The moment she stepped out of the shelter of the bathhouse; the cold wind tore through every layer of clothing until she felt like she wore nothing at all. Hard pellets of frozen rain mixed with snow hit her face.
“Take this,” Talen said. He fastened his coat over hers and grabbed her by the hand.
Carefully, she made her way up the slick stone steps, one hand gripping the railing and the other holding onto Talen. Her foot slipped and she felt herself fall back. His grip tightened as he pulled her back from disaster and steadied her. Visibility had fallen and she could barely see past her nose. She held onto the railing, sliding her hand up incrementally and feeling the steps out with the toe of her boots as she went. Coming out before the storm was irresponsible and losing track of time bordered on stupid.
Finally, they reached the top of the stairs. She felt frozen solid. Definitely no feelings in her toes or her fingers. The gloves worked like a charm on a normal day but did nothing against the wind. Talen swung her up into his arms and she let him carry her back to the house.
The warmth of the kitchen surrounded them, and Georgia shivered, feeling the cold in her bones. Bright and Charl’s conversation abruptly ceased. They had to be a sight, Talen snowed over like a yeti and carrying her like a prize.
No, not a prize. He carried her like a dumb lamb that wandered off in a snowstorm. Embarrassment flooded over her.
“Put her by the fire,” Bright said. “Where did you find her? She looks frozen.”
“I feel frozen too,” she said, teeth chattering. She shed the coat, crusted over with ice pellets, which clattered as the pellets hit the floor. “I’m sorry about the floor. I’ll need a mop or some towels.”
“We’ll worry about that later. Now, get those clothes off.” Talen held up a towel, indicating that she should strip and dry herself.
She grabbed the bottom of her damp shirt and hesitated, keenly aware of the eyes watching. “I can do without the audience.”
“Humans are shy,” Charl said, somehow speaking while shoveling food into his mouth.
The condescension in his tone rubbed her the wrong way. It had been a long, hard day of dealing with workers who didn’t like taking orders from a human woman and had to run everything by Talen. She wanted a few minutes of peace and quiet but apparently, she couldn’t do that right and had to be rescued from freezing to death in a blizzard, so the four-armed alien could take his know-it-all attitude and fuck right off.
“Not wanting to flash my bare ass to the world ain’t being shy,” she snapped. “It’s called not being a pervert. Scram.”
“Leave us,” Talen said.
Chairs scraped against the floor as everyone left. Charl took his plate with him. Bright gently touched her arm and gave her a concerned look. Georgia nodded, which seemed to pacify the older woman’s concerns.
She stripped, eager to get the damp clothes off her body. Talen rubbed her down with a towel and discarded that one before producing another. She wrapped it around her and moved a chair closer to the fire. She carefully towel-dried her hair while he rubbed her feet.
His warm hands brought life to her numb toes as he rubbed and kneaded the digits.
“Is it wrong that this makes nearly freezing to death worth it?” she asked, leaning back in the chair.
“I’m enjoying the view,” he said, the hint of fangs in his grin, “but try not to make it a habit.” She gave a slight shove with her foot before he switched to the other foot. He continued speaking, “The thought of you lost in the storm was too much. Please, my heart, have mercy on me. My heart could not survive without you.”
His words were sweet, but they couldn’t be sincere. He didn’t have to butter her up since he was already getting laid.
His hand moved up her leg. “I like how you are hard here,” he said, caressing the muscles in her calves. “And soft here,” moving his hand to her inner thighs. With a hand on either knee, he spread her legs and moved between them.
Georgia lifted her hips, waiting for a brush of fingers, for hot breath, for anything, but nothing happened.
“Everything okay down there?”
Talen stared into her pussy like it was a complex puzzle to be solved.
Shit. When was the last time she groomed herself? Her bush had to be a jungle by now.
Mood: ruined.
She sat up, scooting back in the chair. When she attempted to close her legs, his powerful grip kept them open.
“Human physiology is different,” he said.
“Different good or different bad?”
“Your clitoris is external,” he replied, not answering the question at all.
“Yeah.”
“Is it pleasurable when stimulated?”
“Oh yeah.”
“May I?” His amber eyes watched her, waiting for permission to touch her pussy.
This doofus.
For an ex-Navy guy, he was surprisingly chivalrous. She expected him to swear more than her, be vulgar, and just take his pleasure, not thoughtfully study her body because he wanted the experience to be good for her.
For someone who agreed to a no-strings-attached fling, he made it hard not to fall for him. He was close to perfect in a lot of ways, but that could just be her being horny. A good fuck and she’d get over it.
“Talent Achaval, if you don’t get your face in my pussy right this second, I’ll snatch your ears right off your head,” she said.
He huffed with mirth, the fucker. “Is that what humans call your cunt? Slang for a feline?”
“My twat, beaver, cooter, snatch, and muff. I don’t care what you call it.”
He leaned in, her inner thigh aching with the stretch. A breath away from her flesh, he said, “And what do you want me to call this beauty?”
“I don’t care. Call it what you want,” she said, voice plaintive.
Did he want her to beg? He certainly enjoyed teasing her. If he thought she wouldn’t give him a taste of his own medicine, he had another thing coming. If she could get that big cock of his in her mouth, she’d suck it like her new favorite lollipop and draw it out, not letting him come until he grabbed her by the hair and pistoned into her face, losing that chivalrous veneer and showing her his lusting heart—
“Mine. I’ll call it mine,” he said, derailing her thoughts of teasing out reveng
e as he licked her silky folds.
She melted from the combined warmth of him, the rough texture of his tongue, and the strength of his fingers gripping her thighs. His claws pricked against her skin. She’d have a bruise in the morning, maybe even puncture marks, but she didn’t care. Her hands dug into his mess of hair, nearly pulling out clumps as she came fast and hard.
He leaned back on his heels and licked his lips, eyes dark and full of feral desire.
She panted, desperate to catch her breath. “I’m sorry. I came too fast. That was really, really good.” She stumbled over the words, aware that nothing could express how that brief encounter was the single best sexual experience of her life.
“More,” he growled. Holding both her wrists in one hand, he steered her over to the table. His free hand swept aside the dishes, making a spot for her. Her belly pressed against the hard edge of the table and she felt his heat behind her.
He planted his hands on either side of her, caging her in. His claws popped and flexed, gouging the polished wood surface. All she could think of was her defiled desk in the study and how everyone ate their meals at this table. They traded jokes and stories, teased with such affection as they passed around platters. She’d never be able to eat her breakfast and not remember Talen’s claws digging into the table as his cock dug into her and anyone who noticed the fresh marks would also know, which was basically everyone.
“Wait,” she said.
He growled and did not move, waiting.
“Not here.”
He backed away immediately. “Have you changed your mind?”
“Oh no. This is happening, just not on the kitchen table,” she said.
A grin spread across his face. “We do have perfectly serviceable beds upstairs.”
She glanced at the door and wrapped the ends of her damp hair around her fingers. “Is there any chance we can make it upstairs without being seen?”
He crowded against her. His hands rested comfortably on her hips, like they belonged there. “Are you shy, my mate?”
Pulled by the Tail: Celestial Mates Page 12