Page 101 of Shielded Heart

“Thelounge?” Sekk’thi asked. “Do not tell me you mated on one of the couches.”

Samantha clasped her hands behind her back. “Um…”

“It was one of the tables,” Arcanthus said. “Well, itstartedon one of the tables, and moved to—no, I’m not going to let you send me on a tangent.Secondly”—he pointed a finger at Sekk’thi—“you did not have my permission, as your mentor and employer, to toss my mate around, in a training scenario or otherwise.”

Sekk’thi rolled her eyes. “As though I would ask yourpermission.”

Arcanthus chose to ignore the comment. “Thirdly, I have to know—is she any good?”

“Samantha shows promise, and she has taken well to the blaster.”

“You’re training her with blasters? I can’t believe that you would—” Arcanthus snapped his mouth shut and closed his eyes.

Instincts. These pesky instincts. Samneedsto learn because of the world I’ve dragged her into.

“My apologies, ladies,” he said in a softer tone. “I simply would have preferred to have been informed when this training began rather than stumbling in on it. Now, Sekk’thi, if you’re done abusing my mate, I’m going to take her.”

Sekk’thi waved her hand. “I release her into your care.”

Arcanthus turned to face Samantha fully, offering her his free hand.

Sam stepped forward and laced her fingers with his. “I wasn’t keeping it from you. It…just kind ofhappened, and I never thought to mention it.”

He walked her toward the exit, leaning closer. “I’m not upset, Samantha. I’m glad. And proud of you. But stepping in on that scene without any context… It triggered the instincts you’ve awoken in me.”

She grimaced. “Sorry.”

He turned his head to glance at her. Her skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat, and her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, revealing her slender, elegant neck. She was dressed in a shirt and pants, both of which were form-fitting—he was certain that the Samantha of two weeks ago would never have worn such clothing if she knewanyonewould see her in it.

“Don’t be sorry, little terran,” he said as they entered the corridor. “I’m actually rather turned on right now. Maybe we can find some unconventional uses for what you’ve been learning…”

That Samantha still blushed when he said such things, despite how many times they’d joined since she’d come here, only made him want her more—and, on a deeper level, it made himadoreher.

“Maybe,” she said, peeking up at him with a grin.

His mouth curled into a grin of his own. “We both know there’s nomaybeinvolved.”

Her cheeks reddened further. She turned her eyes toward the package in his hand. “What’s that?”

Arcanthus lifted it slightly. “A gift for you.”

Her eyes rounded. “For me?”

“There are no other astoundingly beautiful terrans around, so itmustbe for you. But you’ll have to wait until we’re back in our room.”

Sam’s grin somehow widened, and Arc could almost feel the excitement radiating from her.

They headed to the bedroom at a brisk pace, matching each other’s strides perfectly despite their haste. Once they were inside with the door closed, Samantha released his hand, stepped forward, and turned to face him, bouncing on her toes with palpable anticipation.

Arcanthus shifted the gift behind his back, closed the distance between them, and slipped his free arm around Sam, drawing her into a deep, lingering kiss. She closed her eyes and moaned, her body going pliant against his as she slid her hands up to his neck.

The slightly salty flavor of her sweat reminded him of their past joinings, and arousal stirred low in his belly, causing his cock to partially extrude. When he broke the kiss, he ran his tongue over his lips to savor her taste. “Maybe the gift can wait…”

Samantha’s eyes darkened, and she slid one of her hands down between their bodies to cup him between his legs. Arcanthus grunted. She smiled as she stroked a finger along his slit, teasing him through his loincloth.

“But canyou?” she asked.

He caught his lower lip between his teeth to suppress a groan as faint currents of pleasure crackled outward from his groin. She’d learned, clearly, that his self-control was a delicate thing—that she could shatter it and take command with just a little boldness, with just a little touch.

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