It’s the aphrodisiacs. It’s not real. I don’t really want him as much as my body seems to think.

But god, he’s so wide and he smells so good. His hair ghosts over my skin, making me tingle all over. His eyes burn bright, searing through me and making my pussy clench.

I don’t want him. I don’t. Except I really fucking want him.

So I slam my mouth over his and I take him.

six

. . .

Thundar

"Remind me again, oh you barbarian king, why are there no showers in here?" Lottie asks me combing her fingers through her hair and pushing them to one side over her shoulder.

They're wet and sticky and the move leaves a side of her neck exposed and she looks utterly delectable. My cock twitches at the thought of taking her again.

"Showers?" I ask.

“Showers. You know, where we wash and get clean?”

“Ah, you mean bathing chambers. Why would there be a bathing chamber in here?”

She stops and stares at me with wide eyes and raised eyebrows that I've come to learn is her "Are you serious?” face. It's quite endearing, although I certainly prefer her O-face. Her "Oh my Gods, Thundar, you're so big and handsome face."

"Because we smell like sex," she says after a moment's pause.

"That's the point of the isolation interlude."

She rolls her eyes and sighs.

"I don't care what the point of this is, I just know I'd kill for a hot bath."

My heart soars. Merely four days together and Alexandra is already assimilating so well. Hunting is in our blood and if my future queen wishes to kill, it would be my pleasure to arrange it for her. I approach her and take her hand in mine.

"Would you like me to bring some servants for you to hunt?"

She blinks at me, her exotic brown eyes so wide and mesmerizing. “What?”

"You said you would kill for a bath. Just say the word and I'll order a couple of the wenches to be your prey."

"P– Wen—what the? How can you be such a skilled lover and also such a barbarian?"

I preen. She thinks I’m a skilled lover. Obviously, I know I excel in the carnal arts, but it’s always nice to know my future wife appreciates my abilities.

“I don’t actually want to kill anyone! It’s just a figure of speech.”

Oh. Well, that is unfortunate. I will need to show her how fulfilling it is to hunt when we reach Aysgoth.

“And wenches? Who the hell are the wenches?

I gesture toward the door, where the Thing has rolled into a ball sleeping directly under the service hatch. Clever animal. It learned quickly where food comes from.

"The female Aysgarthians assigned to cater to our needs."

“You have got to be kidding me.” Lottie stabs her fingers through her hair, yanking hard

Alarm races through me at the gesture. Humans don’t have living hair like we do, but surely they understand how unwise it is to tear out one’s own hair. Only those who are unstable do something like that.