“I can’t really guess,” she said. “What are you doing?”

“Be silent. You wouldn’t want anyone to hear you scream.”

And before she could decide what he meant by that, his fingers dug into the waist of her leggings and pulled down, leaving the fabric to trap her ankles. He lifted her legs and draped them over his neck, head lowering to nuzzle the inside of her thigh.

“There’s an artery here,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. Teeth nipped to make his point, sinking into her soft flesh. Not quite enough to break the skin—but as if he seriously considered opening her vein and drinking. “Did you know human blood does to us what alcohol does to you?”

She licked her lips. “Ithann…”

His mouth moved down her thigh, kissing and licking while his fingers played with her clit. Her nub throbbed, tiny little sparks causing her pussy to clench in anticipation. Ithann moved from her thigh to her core, dipping a finger inside her.

“What if someone comes?” she asked, her voice breathy.

“What if someone comes?” Except when he asked the question, it was with a complete lack of concern, a thread of mockery.

His finger slid inside her, withdrew. He held her eyes, tasting the juice from her body. “Do you want to know what you taste like?”

Her nose wrinkled. “Not really.”

Ithann smiled, pleasant. “More for me.”

This time it wasn’t his finger slipping inside her. His tongue fondled her clit, flicking back and forth, lapping along her slit and then delving inside her pussy, thrusts imitating the rhythm of a cock. His hands gripped her thighs, almost painful.

“You’ll leave bruises,” she gasped.

“Marks. Proof that you belong to a male.”

“And who else besides you will be looking?”

She would have made him answer her demand, but it was difficult to think. Difficult to worry about someone coming in the room and seeing one of the students’ legs splayed wide open while an instructor ate her pussy out in broad daylight. With every evidence of relishing the act as if he were sinking his teeth into the sweetest confection.

Her body began to clench, climax rising. He increased his pace, fighting the battle of bringing her to pleasure on two fronts. Pressure exploded in her clit followed shortly by a rush of heat deep inside her womb. She cried out, unable to hold back the sound, uncaring at that point if anyone heard her. And as the pleasure rushed through her, Gayle felt the sting of teeth near the artery he’d lavished with his tongue.

“Ithann!” Her hands gripped his hair. “Are you biting me?” He didn’t respond, lips fastened greedily on her flesh. “Ithann.”

His hands smoothed over her thighs and clenched her buttocks, head rising as he watched expressions play across her face. Watched her with the deep-seated hunger of a male who wanted more—and was holding back. She stared at the subtle smear of red at the corner of his lips.

“When I sink my cock in you for the first time, it won’t be here,” he said. “But it will happen, won’t it, Gayle? You owe me.”

She couldn’t work up the mental energy to protest the word ‘owe.’ Just nodded weakly. After all, it was a debt she wanted to fulfill.

“I want everything from you. Your body under mine, your throat under my teeth.” He kissed her. “Do we have an understanding?”

Gayle’s breath caught. Bright eyes, hard as topaz, and soft fingertips trailing over her arm. “Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “I think we have an understanding.”

* * *

She returned home, spending several hours in her home office going over her financial portfolio, making housing inquiries, and in general trying to distract herself from the sheer boredom of her life outside of YETI.

Mother was right. Gayle needed something to do. But being a politician’s wife wasn’t it. She rose from her desk, pacing the floor. But would being a Yadeshi’s bride be any different? Ithann hadn’t said whether he wanted to remain on Earth or go back to his home planet—but a wife was a wife. Whether she lived here or there… she needed to grow up and figure out something to do with her time. Something meaningful.

Returning to her seat, she pulled out a piece of old-fashioned paper—the kind made from trees though it was frightfully indulgent, and a pen to begin making a list. Column A, Skills. Column B, Likes. Column C, how to make money combining Column A and B, and maybe help people, too.

Gayle stared at her handwriting, then abandoned the paper to make a digital list on her device. She’d learned to write by hand like every other child in grade school, but she was terrible at it.

Well, there was no denying she was trained to be the perfect politician’s wife and hostess. Handle social situations, schmooze people out of money. She liked people and she liked parties. She just didn’t like politicians and the privileged hypocrisy of the high Tier.

The obvious choice was to start a non-profit of her own and find a cause to work for. Maybe even a non-profit business that engaged in some form of social need.

She made another column: Social Needs. A knock at the door took her from brainstorming a few seconds later.

“Enter,” she said, glancing over as her father entered. She saw his expression and set her device down, rising. “Father?”

He stayed in the threshold of her suite. “Gayle, I’ve come by certain information that disturbs me, and frankly, given your impressionable age—”

“Last time I checked I was over twenty-five and under thirty-five? A lady never reveals her age, of course.”

“—and your apparent lack of care for the needs and reputation of this family—”

She slashed a hand. “If this is going where I think it is, you can take all of your financial accounts and shove them. I love you, and I appreciate my upbringing. But, you and others are right—it’s time for me to do something with my life. It just isn’t going to be a marriage. And if I must financially support myself on the small income I make on my own, I’m fine with that.”

“Are you done?”

The utter emotionlessness of his tone set her teeth on edge.

Gayle crossed her arms. “Yes.”

“Are you aware in the term following your great-great-grandfather’s presidency there were overlooked changes made to laws regarding women’s health care?”

She frowned. Her father was a constitutional lawyer, following the family legacy, so of course he would be aware of archaic legal codes. Still, the hair on the back of her neck began to rise.

“I vaguely recall. The moron who took over decimated women’s healthcare rights in a quest to slow the declining birth rate of specific socio-economic groups. The effects were catastrophic.”

He nodded. “Indeed. One of the codes that wasn’t overturned was that of benevolent care. A husband or father of a woman who has not proven herself financially independent may have certain health decisions made on her behalf.”

“I don’t believe I like where this is going.”

“Your mother and I have determined to take advantage of those legal codes—for your good and the good of the family.”

She stared at him, her entire spirit iced over, hyper-focused on every word, each nuance of expression. Not quite aware of her arms shifting and her body adjusting into an offensive fighting stance.

“You don’t believe that, do you, Father?”

“Abigail, until you make the right decision regarding your future, you will be confined to this house. I’ve already alerted security and filed the necessary paperwork.”

“You can’t do this.” Even as she spoke, she knew he could. He wouldn’t, if he wasn’t certain he had a legal leg—or three—to stand on. She switched tactics, appealing to his reason. “Let’s consider. I acquiesce, and make the decision you believe I should make—to marry, I presume? What will that solve? I can divorce, I can go to the media. I can run away at the alter and cause a media stir. How can you coerce my cooperation forever?”

He said nothing for several minutes, then sighed. “If I believe you have truly considered what your options and future should be, and have made a fully informed decision—I might relent. But I think you need this time away from… everything—”

“You mean away from Ithann. Away from my alien lover.”

“Away from everything, to give yourself the opportunity to reflect without outside stimuli influencing you.”

“I will never forgive you.”

“I’ll take that chance, Gayle. Please be down for dinner on time, and appropriately dressed.”

* * *

“Ithann.”

His eyes narrowed. He was in his private rooms, from the backdrop displayed on her thin tablet. “What’s wrong, Gayle?”

She smiled without humor. She appreciated he knew her well enough to read her tone. And since he hardly ever called her by her name, it proved he was paying attention.

Good.

“My father has confined me to the family home.”

He paused, eyes flickering. “Is that lawful on Earth? You are considered adult, correct?”

“Yes, your understanding is correct.” She swallowed several angry words, holding onto her calm with grim resolve. “He’s invoking some obscure legal statute that allows a man to take over a woman’s healthcare decision if she is deemed unfit.”

All expression bled from his face, eyes unblinking. “How are you unfit?”

“I’ve refused to marry a man of his choice, and I’m fraternizing with aliens.”

He showed his fangs. “Is his objection to me because I am Yadeshi?”

Gayle considered. “…No. I don’t think so. My family… how much do you know about my family?”

“I know enough.”

Now her eyes narrowed. “You informed me you’d requested permission from your parents to court me. I am assuming, due to that formality, that you were required to send them a dossier on me. I’d also assume that you would have presented myself and my family in as flattering a light as possible. Which means you understand exactly who I, and my father, are.”

His eyes hooded. “Yes. I understand.”

“I see.” She considered him. “And does my family background have any bearing on why you chose me?”

“I don’t give a fuck about your family.”

The words were distinctly spaced, his tone perfectly controlled. Too perfectly. Gayle exhaled. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t jump out of the window, and we have security. I can’t fight them all.”

“No. You can’t. You’re a diplomat’s daughter, use your skills—they are valuable. I’ll be there soon. And Gayle?”

He’d crooned her name, voice a soft caress. She shivered. “Y—yes?”

“Pray to your god no one dies.”

Ithann cut the connection, leaving Gayle staring at a blank screen, wondering what in the world he would do.