Chapter Eight

 

The next morning…

“These are some sweet digs, I will give him that,” Dorcas said, looking around the enormous room. Treffon had tried to get Violet to stay in his actual bedroom – claiming it was “safer” – and Violet had indignantly refused, so Treffon had put her and Dorcas in the room next to his. He lived in a suite of rooms on the ground floor of an enormous castle, where many of his extended family, including Zura, also lived. The castle grounds were surrounded by lush fields and rolling hills that stretched out for miles.

The room held the biggest bed Violet had ever seen, and when she sank onto the silky coverings, it was as soft as a cloud. It beckoned thoughts of Treffon pressing her back onto it with his big body, pinning her wrists and taking her mouth with his. Fortunately, her daydreams were shattered by Dorcas bouncing up and down before jumping off the bed to go and prod at things she didn’t recognize and stick her fingers into what were probably, for all she knew, alien power sockets.

The floor was laid with smooth flagstones scattered with soft, warm furs, but the contours of the walls and ceiling were sleek and glossy. The light was cast by an invisible source, and glowed off highly polished twists of black-and-red wood. It was a bewildering combination of primitive and futuristic. Allison had come by to visit and to take charge of the Eeplings, since she was a grade school teacher.

“Yes, at least the accommodations are sweet. He’s not. What a jerk,” Violet said, sinking into a fur-draped chair.

“You got that right,” Allison grumbled.

The Eeplings were climbing all over the furniture. One of them snatched a dried flower bud from a bowl of potpourri and started chewing it.

“Aggh! Spit that out!” Violet cried.

“They’re okay,” Allison said. “I read up on them this morning when I heard I’d be taking care of them. Apparently they eat a lot of weird stuff, but they’re literally immune to poison.” She tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear, which was now pointy and tufted with fur, since she was pregnant with her mate’s cub.

Dorcas pulled a pair of knitting needles from her purse. “I’m going to knit you a special baby cap with slits for the pointy ears to poke through,” she told Allison.

Alison perked up. “Sweet! Can you make two pairs of matching booties?”

“You got it.”

Violet tried not to let herself imagine what it would be like to be expecting a baby – Treffon’s baby. To live forever in this magical place with the lilac skies and double moons, to wake up in Treffon’s muscular arms...

“So you’re happy here?” she asked Allison.

“I am incredibly happy with my pair-bond. He’s so hot. And did I mention that he has an enormous schlong?” Allison grinned wickedly.

“Eek!” Violet smacked Allison on the arm. “There are children in the room!”

“Children who do not speak or understand English,” Allison reminded her.

“How enormous?” Dorcas wanted to know. She held up her knitting needles. “Longer, shorter?”

“Well, good lord, definitely thicker,” Allison snorted.

“Aunt Dorcas!” Violet glared at her. “That is very inappropriate!”

“What?” Dorcas looked mildly embarrassed. “I’m old, not dead. Let me live vicariously.”

“Anyway. So, Allison, you said you’re happy with your new guy. But are you happy here?” Violet persisted.

“Nothing gets by you, does it? I’m mostly happy here, it’s just…” Allison sighed. “Treffon is very hard on everybody. I just wish the man I love – well, wolf-man I love – didn’t have to deal with his boss being a moody jerk. Not that Kroi would ever complain – he’s completely loyal,” she added quickly.

“I know what you mean.” Violet nodded sympathetically. “I wish Treffon would take a chill pill too. Not that I’ll be here for that long, most likely, but it would make everyone’s life a lot easier.”

“Did I mention that these are pretty sweet accommodations? And we have robot servants? I could get used to this.” Dorcas’ tone turned wistful.

“Stop trying to pimp me out,” Violet grumbled. “Oh, hey, Zura!” Zura stood in the doorway, tall and regal, hair wound around her head in complicated braids.

“She’s so much nicer than Treffon,” Allison murmured. “She’s still badass and she gets things done, but she isn’t a total jerk about it.”

Zura inclined her head to them. “Treffon wishes to see you,” she said to Violet.

“What if the feeling’s not mutual?” Violet muttered rebelliously, but she stood up with a sigh. She did want to see Treffon, or at least parts of her did – the parts below her bellybutton.

“Remember the old saying. It’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich creep as a poor creep,” Dorcas said helpfully.

“Nobody says that, and it doesn’t even make sense. Allison, the Eeplings are eating the pillows off that chair – could you maybe tell them to stop? Or not, whatever.”

Violet followed Dorcas out of the room and through a maze of hallways until they reached what looked like a gym set up for sparring. There was a boxing ring, scarred and battered mannequins dangling from the ceiling, and mats on the floor.

Treffon was there, stripped to the waist and violently punching a mannequin.

Violet’s breath caught at the sight of him. She sent a ferocious command to her knees not to give way. Her suggestions to other body parts went unheeded as her nipples furled into painfully hard buds against the fabric of her shirt and a delicious ache started in her pussy and sent tingles of longing out along her nerve endings.

Treffon glistened with sweat, his muscles moving smoothly under his caramel-colored skin with each heavy blow. His biceps bunched and flexed as his big fists set the mannequin swinging. Violet’s eyes wandered from his broad, muscular chest, down over a sinfully toned stomach to the tantalizing peek of hair that trailed below the waistband of his leggings. She could see the thick, heavy outline of his cock nestled between his strong thighs, and she stifled a whimper at the thought of him hard and erect, pushing his way into her slick channel.

Treffon spun on one foot, hitting the mannequin with a roundhouse kick so powerful that the chain holding the mannequin broke, and the dummy went flying across the room and skidded bonelessly into a corner. A robot voice emanated from the dummy, yelling, “Fatal blow!”

Violet’s eyes lingered on the strong sweep of Treffon’s spine and the tight globes of his frankly magnificent ass. Her panties were soaking wet. When he turned back again, grinning, color flushed her cheeks as she wondered if he could tell.

Treffon looked questioningly at Zura and Violet.

“You asked me to come here?” Violet tried to sound casual, but her voice came out in a high-pitched squeak.

“I did?” Treffon grabbed a folded towel from a shelf and blotted his forehead.

She glanced at Zura in confusion. “Zura said…”

Zura smiled. “Well, I may have misspoken a tiny bit, but I am sure that Treffon will approve. I thought that, since someone is trying to kill you, Treffon could teach you some basic self-defense moves,” she said.

Treffon gave Zura an annoyed look. “And you told her that I asked to see her. Because you are trying to be a match-maker. So now you are a schemer? You are your father’s cub after all.”

Zura clapped her hand to her chest as if mortally wounded. “Cousin, I would prefer that you would just stab me. It would pain me less. I am so very hurt that I must leave immediately so I may cry in private.” She turned her back and stalked off.

“You have never shed a tear in your life,” Treffon called after her as she hurried out of the room, dry-eyed and smiling smugly to herself.

“I’m sorry I interrupted you,” Violet said to Treffon. “I imagine you’re very busy. I’ll just go back to my room. If someone can help me find it.”

He tossed the sweaty towel into a basket. “No, no, she actually makes a good point. All Vulfan females start their self-defense training when they are cubs – just like the males. If you have not yet learned how to defend yourself, it is high time you started.”

He walked towards her, and she stood rooted to the spot where she stood. She was supposed to wrestle with Thorolf, squirming under his muscular, sweaty body, without making a total fool of herself?

She bit back a moan at the thought.

What kind of sadist was Zura, anyway?

“Treffon, it’s probably a lost cause. Remember the night I met you?”

His eyes gleamed and his lips curled in a devastatingly sexy smile. “Yes, I remember it very well.” He was so close he was practically pressing up against her. And he smelled so good. His damp skin gave off a scent that made her want to press her face against his broad chest and lick his flesh. Her heart tripped erratically beneath her ribs. It was probably pheromones or something, right? Or an aphrodisiac – some sort of alien love potion. Nobody smelled sexy. Except Treffon did – musky and masculine and delicious.

She blushed. “Remember that I spilled a drink on you? That’s just me, all the time. I’m really clumsy.”

“I will be the judge of that. You are going to fight me, now.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “No, I’m not.”

“By the way,” Treffon said, “I have been wondering. I am always looking for an opportunity to turn a profit. How much do you think Eepling pelts would fetch on the open market?”

“What?” she shrieked. “You bastard!” She tried to punch him, but he easily parried her blow. Then she realized that he’d just provoked her on purpose, which made her even angrier.

“Very good,” he said approvingly. “We just need to teach you to hit about twenty times harder and a hundred times faster.”

“You want me to hit hard? I’ll show you hard!” She drew back her fist to punch him again, then realized what she’d just said and took a step backwards, her entire face bright red with embarrassment now.

She couldn’t help it – her eyes drifted down to the impressive bulge in his leggings again, and even after he put his finger under her chin and lifted her face to his, it took her eyes a few moments to follow. She realized her mouth was slightly open, and Treffon was looking at her with a smug, masculine smirk that made her want to slap him…then kiss him.

He stepped back, his expression becoming solemn, and nodded slightly. “I will grab you as though I mean you harm,” he said. “Try to fight me off.”

She tried. It was like trying to fight a mountain. His grip was rock-solid, his arms immovable however much she struggled and squirmed.

He released her, his brow creased with concern. “Do you truly not know how to defend yourself at all?” he asked, sounding horrified. “Even the simplest of moves every pup is taught from the cradle?”

“Well excuse me,” she said, bristling. “If I’d known I was going to be fighting off assassins on another planet, I’d have majored in ass-kicking rather than marketing.”

Treffon nodded solemnly. “It would have been a wiser choice,” he agreed. “But since you did not, let me show you how to defend yourself.”

And he did. As far as Violet could work out, it involved landing on your butt with the breath knocked out of you, landing on your back with the breath knocked out of you…and landing on your stomach with Treffon on top of you and his hard, thick erection pressing against your ass.

Unconsciously, she gave a little moan and wiggled backwards against him. He groaned, and they both froze,Treffon’s hard body hot against her back and his hands bracketing her on either side. He pushed himself away slightly, and she rolled over.

They were both breathing fast and the air seemed to crackle between them. Violet caught her breath as Treffon dipped his head to lap at the seam of her lips. She parted for him and he kissed her deeply then sucked on her tongue, bringing one hand up to the nape of her neck so he could hold her to him more firmly. She parted her legs so he could rock his hips against her aching core, the slide of his erect cock a wicked tease even through their clothes.

They drew apart, barely, their lips skimming each other. He pushed against her again and she hooked her ankle behind his knee, squirming as the sweet yearning ache between her thighs intensified.

“I guess as long as we both know this is nothing serious, there’s nothing wrong with enjoying ourselves,” Violet murmured, her breath coming in tortured pants.

“Of course.” He kissed her neck.

“Because I’m not your true mate, and I’m leaving as soon as you figure out who’s trying to kill me.”

It sounded as if he said “Absolutely”, but it was hard to tell, because he was kissing his way down to her breasts as he said it.