Page 5 of Dreikx

I purse my lips. “Are you sarcastic in the morning or all the time? Because this too will change.”

Tamey rises and reaches over the table. The cloth that covers her breasts reveals them to me as she grabs a carafe of inder, the Telean morning brew. She refills my cup, then hers, and sits back down, sipping. Her lips part, and she moans as she swallows. My brain short-circuits, and I lose touch with reality as images of Tamey on a bed of furs crash into my active consciousness. Her head is thrown back, and her fingers part her folds, the liquid only an Omega makes seeping between her fingers.

I lock the images away lest I succumb to my urges and not finish my cold breakfast. I stare at my plate and recount the nutritional intake. Not calories. Those aren’t important to me. A small hand comes into view and dips bread into the egg yolk. Tamey offers me a bite. I lean back, but her hand follows my mouth, so I shove the chair back. “Use a fork.”

Tamey stands, and just when I think I’ve somehow offended her, she sits in my lap, crossing one leg over the other. I shut off all my external sensors, namely the sense of smell. Tamey eats the bite she intended for me. She gets the plate and the fork and proceeds to feed me. I eat, quietly, unsure what to do with this creature. I knew she would be an experience unlike any other, but I am still surprised I haven’t yet offended her, made her mad, or worse, made her cry. Perhaps I have finally learned the subtle art of conversing politely.

Tamey puts away the empty plate and grabs my hand. She threads our fingers together. “You’re wearing gloves,” she says. “Why?”

“It is not the mating hour. The intimacy is unnecessary.”

“I understand. By taking me as your Omega, you’ve strengthened your position.”

“Correct. And, technically speaking, you’re not my Omega. You’re my bride.”

Tamey leans in and brushes my cheek with hers.

My body flares, my legs part, my dick pokes out of the reproductive sac. My brain scrambles to restrain my body. Her scent breaches my defenses, clouds my brain, but I breathe through the horrific urge to fuck her.

At my ear, she whispers, “I am an Omega, husband, and therefore, I can be anything you want me to be. If I am to be a bride, then that’s fine by me. If you’re cold and uncaring, that’s fine by me. If you want to mate for only one hour, that’s what we’ll do. So remember, husband, I can be anything you want. What do you want me to be today? A kitten?” She runs a finger down my cheek. “A pup?” She licks my neck. “A bunny with a tail? Or maybe you’re akori, and I can be your baby girl.”

“A bride,” I say.

Tamey stands and nods. “I will need to make my bridal gown.”

I have no idea why she needs this, but I oblige. “Of course.” I take her hand. “Let me show you your hobby space.” At the stairs, I gesture for her to ascend first. Tamey smirks and sashays up. My gaze follows her curves, the globes of her behind, and the glistening parts between her legs. It is a good thing I’m incapable of drooling.

We emerge on the top floor, and she stops, clearly not knowing where to go from here. Behind her, I press my body against her back, moving the hair away from her shoulder and bending to kiss it. “You’re showing me all your many assets.”

Tamey moans and leans her head back, resting it on my chest. “Yes, husband.”

“The thing is, Tamey, it’s a wasted effort. I already know everything about you.”

She turns, big amber eyes blinking slowly, deliberately. She is the embodiment of sensuality. I push onward. “This marriage is one of political gain. You don’t need to enjoy it, and neither do I. We just have to be cordial and accepting of each other’s company. I will do everything in my power to make you comfortable so that you may be at ease during the mating hour.”

“I understand.”

“If there’s anything you’re missing from the house, I would like to know. I’m committed to giving you everything you need.”

“You can’t possibly fathom what I need.”

“Surely it can’t be that difficult to guess. Cloth,” I say. “You need cloth to make dresses.” I gesture to her left. “I’ve secured the finest cloth from both Regha and Earth.”

Tamey sighs and walks into the room. Sunlight hits her eyes, and she covers them with her hand. I command the window tint. “Use the voice commands for the house. Speak to the house, and it will learn your habits and adjust to them.”

The tint dims the sunlight, and Tamey looks around the room. She approaches the sculpture of herself, angling her head. “This is the finest piece I’ve ever seen. They even got my eyes right. Who made this?”

Something strange tingles inside my chest. I’m unsure what it is and will examine this reaction later. “I made it.”

Tamey widens her eyes. “You sculpt?”

“Only when I can make use of the objects.”

She runs a finger down the sculpture’s nose. “Detailed. So precise. It’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as the real thing, I’m afraid.”

Tamey smiles. “Was that a compliment?”

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