My 1000-years love

Chapter13

I found the captain’s cabin very quickly. It was empty. On the bed lay another, no less stunning dress. I was determined not to wear it. How long would he keep pushing these clothes on me to package me nicely for his own pleasure? It’s just ridiculous. With a sigh, I folded it and asked T-GInArA to give me a clean set of regular uniform clothing. For some reason, T-GInArA decided that for me it would still be the same white sweater and almost-jeans white pants. Although I had clearly seen that the uniforms of other women on the ship were quite different. I stood in the shower for a long time, with a slight sense of glee using the spaceship’s water just to relax, to gather my thoughts, to hide behind the wall of water from everything happening. I came out of the shower with wet hair, as I always did at home. Despite the advanced dryer that could create a truly royal hairstyle in seconds, I didn’t want to change my habits.

Shaking my hair, I caught the intense gaze of Sgannar, who was standing by the already set table. Judging by his expression, he was once again in a bad mood. Well, that was nothing new. I had to deal with this every day of my so-called marriage. And I thought, here we go again. Is there any other way in this Universe? Winding myself up in a few seconds, I muttered irritably:

“What is it this time?”

“Nothing,” came the even reply. “Just admiring.”

Hmm, I misinterpreted that. Usually, I don’t get it wrong. Although there is nothing usual about this entire situation.

“Have you met Trin?”

“You already know?”

“I know everything that happens on the ship.”

“Listen,” I thought this was my chance, “do you know the real reason he attacked that scientist? Maybe you could release him? The guy is suffering unjustly! He’s alone in the brig with his demons from the past. And he seems to be a very kind creature. Maybe you could let him go?”

Sgannar smiled.

“Have you made a friend? Or do you like him?” he asked more sternly.

“Do you think I should be sexually attracted to every person I meet?”

“Well, there was that one time,” he said through gritted teeth.

“And now you’re going to remind me of it every day, every time we meet?” I marched over to the table indignantly, plopped into a chair, and glanced around the table. “Can I eat?”

There was no answer.

Staring at my plate, I firmly stated:

“No, I’m not sexually attracted to him. Yes, I’ve made a friend. Yes, I wanted to ask because it’s unfair that he’s in there because of an overdeveloped sense of justice. If I’m not allowed to ask, then I’m sorry. Can we start eating now?” I looked at Sgannar, who was still playing statue. I wondered if he managed to meditate while holding these dramatic pauses, or if he temporarily went into hibernation.

Finally, gracefully sitting down in his place, he declared:

“You are terribly disrespectful to the Emperor of the Galaxies of Eya and Anaya of the Great Attractor Cluster.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t taught palace etiquette. And if you say we are supposed to be husband and wife, then I’ll say this: In this,” I swallowed hard, “marriage, I will no longer be convenient and invisible. You force this marriage on me. But this time, I give myself the right to be only myself in it. I won’t pretend and be silent when I don’t like something. I’m not capricious and I don’t like being rude,” I continued, “but I will no longer hide my true face, I won’t grovel before you or stand in your presence just because you happened to be the emperor. I will behave as I do when I’m alone with myself. And all my kindness will come only from the heart, when I feel like giving you my friendliness and tenderness. And not a moment before. If you don’t like it, send me back to Earth.”

The man smiled broadly.

“I wouldn’t agree to anything less. Eat!”

But just as I reached for the nearest salad, Sgannar gently moved my hand away.

“Allow me.” He filled a plate with aromatic delicacies, and my stomach growled loudly in anticipation.

“Excuse me,” I murmured, embarrassed.

“It’s all right.” He moved his chair to the corner closest to me. Grabbing my fork, he smiled and said: “Let’s make a deal: you let me feed you, and I’ll fulfill your request about Trin. How does that sound?”

“Are you an emperor or a merchant?” I grumbled.

“It’s almost the same thing,” he laughed. “I prefer negotiations, mutually beneficial partnerships, deals, over war. Well? Do you agree?”

“I’ll choke. There’s nothing sexy about it, trust me.”

“Then Trin will stay a bit longer?”

“That’s low. Fine, go ahead. But I don’t promise to eat gracefully or attractively from your hand, mind you.”

He laughed again. Am I his clown here?

With each new bite disappearing into my mouth, his eyes lit up more and more with a blue glow. By the time he started feeding me dessert—an incredibly tender soufflé, similar to strawberry—he was openly staring at my mouth, chest, and gazing heatedly into my eyes. As if by some cruel joke, a drop fell onto my chin and into my cleavage. Sgannar sprang into action as if he had been waiting for just that. Briefly licking my face, he planted a long, wet kiss on the bare part of my chest. What can I say? I’m not made of stone. A stunningly handsome man, drooling over an ordinary me all evening, an emperor, and a terribly stern man, melting at the sight of a drop of strawberry soufflé on my skin. A wave of languor spread through my body, and I almost moaned. This isn’t fair. I promised myself I would be as hard as steel. I can’t be so indiscriminate anymore! And at that moment, he pulled away. Relief mixed with disappointment. Though the latter was definitely stronger.

Still looking at the spot he had just kissed passionately, he rasped:

“I’m hungry too. Now it’s your turn.”

“What?” I squeaked, sure his hunger referred to unsatisfied desire.

“Now you’re going to feed me. Or I’ll satisfy my hunger another way.” Now he was definitely talking about what I thought.

“I’ll feed you!” I hastily squeaked. “What would you like?” Only then, looking at the table, did I realize that I hadn’t even seen or registered what he had fed me, being completely focused on the process. I just remembered it was very tasty.

“I’ll have this.” With trembling hands, red to the roots of my hair, I placed the indicated dishes in front of him. “Wait. I want it like this,” he pulled me onto his lap. And I immediately felt just how much he was into this game.

Concentrating on not dropping anything from the fork, I diligently transferred the food from the plate to the alien’s mouth. An incredibly sexy mouth, with straight white teeth, slightly full lips, giving either a boyish smile or an expression of universal disdain. And the scent. How can a man smell like this? Fresh as an evening steppe warmed by the sun. Or was I imagining it? I had never blushed before, but now, I swear, I was the color of a boiled lobster. When it came time for dessert, Sgannar swiftly lifted me under my arms, skillfully slid his legs between mine, and there I was, straddling him. Grabbing my butt with his hands, he pulled me close enough to feel his desire pressing against my already traitorous, ready-for-anything core.

“Now for my dessert,” Sgannar rasped, and I unceremoniously shoved the spoon into his mouth. I wanted this damn soufflé to be finished as soon as possible. I shoveled the puree into him as quickly as I could. When he rebelled, laughing and shaking his head, the contents of the next spoon inevitably ended up on his cheek.

“Now you.” He commanded, instantly serious.

“What about me?”

“Clean this off me.”

I reached for a napkin, but he firmly grabbed my hand, making me flinch.

“Not like that. With yourself.” Understanding he wanted me to repeat his maneuver, I blushed even more and began squirming involuntarily.

“If you don’t stop moving on me, I won’t be able to hold back, my Love.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’m still waiting.”

With a free finger, I wiped some soufflé off his skin and licked it off. His burning gaze locked onto mine, and this time, I accepted the challenge. I stared back, licking my finger. Then I reached for his cheek again, and again demonstratively licked my finger. His face showed madness. One hand, still holding my butt, squeezed so hard it almost hurt. My other hand was still captive. He froze like a stone, not moving, not breathing.

“I’m still dirty. Clean it all off.” All I could do was lick the rest off his cheek. And when I repeated his kiss, he snapped. Lifting me off the chair with him, he swept everything off the table onto the floor, sitting me down on it, pressing against me as if he wanted to meld into my skin. He devoured my lips with such ferocity it felt like he wanted to drink from me. I responded. It was impossible to resist this passion, this tenderness, this need for me. He laid me on the table, then lifted me again, seemingly unwilling to lose our bodily contact. His hands kneaded my butt, pulling me closer and closer to Sgannar. I melted like a piece of ice thrown into boiling water. My impenetrability cracked and crumbled before my eyes. Snatches of consciousness, to hell with everything, I have the right to this weakness, the right to enjoy this now! But as soon as I heard the tearing of fabric, I suddenly came to my senses. Realizing that if I gave in to the momentary lust now, which was indeed overwhelming, I would be making a huge mistake. I would be giving up my position in our strange battle. What could I oppose to his dominance over myself and my future? Only my pride. Pushing away from him sharply, I slid across the cleared smooth table and fell off the other side. Instantly sitting on my heels, I peeked over the table like a mischievous child.

Lowering his face, Sgannar gripped the table so hard that within seconds, the spots where his hands had been turned to dust.

“Why?” he hissed through clenched teeth, not lifting his head.

“I can’t.” And there was something else in my refusal. When I gave in to passion with Laor, I didn’t care at all what he might think of me! It was a one-time pleasure, a whim, a release, and fun. I knew from the start that I would let that handsome guy go without a second thought and occasionally remember him with a feeling of light-hearted joy. But here...

“Of course, I feel attraction and unsatisfied desire, Sgannar.” I shook my head and declared firmly. “But I want to make sure I feel this desire truly for you. I want it to arise by my will. I,” I emphasized the word I, “want to choose you. Not give in just because you left me no other choice and my hormones are raging.”

“Damn you, crazy Earthling!” he hissed somewhere to the side and stormed into the bathroom.

“You raath.” I whispered almost inaudibly and felt genuinely frightened. Sooner or later, I’d drive him to the edge, and he’d do something irrevocable, I thought, looking at the wrecked table, which had already begun to self-repair. Convenient, having such a psycho for a captain. Not waiting for the continuation of the scene, I grabbed the remaining pastry from the edge of the table and slowly backed out, not taking my eyes off the bathroom door, and slipped into the corridor. I convinced myself that I needed to spare the captain from the tough decision of whether or not to kill me when he emerged from the bathroom. Or he might come up with something else.

I wasn’t blameless either, getting the man all worked up and then backing off. But he’s something too! I was against these food games in the first place. What is this, “9½ Weeks”? But no one asked me. Smirking at the chaos in my head, I decided to temporarily shove it all aside, bit carefreely into the pastry, and strode down the corridor.