Page 37 of Wayfinder
“Holy fucking shit!” Pearl breathed when I released her lips to nibble at the curve of her neck. There wasn’t an inch of her skin I didn’t find utterly delicious.
“This was good?” I murmured.
“Very good.” She shifted her hips slightly, and I felt the touch of her fingers against the hardness of my cock. Just a feather touch, and I nearly exploded. Grabbing her hand, I raised it to my lips, kissing her palm.
Pearl raised her head, blue eyes regarding me with confusion.
“What about... don’t you want...?” Her cheeks flushed adorably.
“Your pleasure is my pleasure, sweet Pearl,” I told her honestly.
“Damn, human men could take a lesson from you,” she quipped, watching me kiss and nibble her fingers.
“Humen men don’t know how to pleasure their females?” I asked.
“That’s debatable,” she giggled. The hard pebbles of her nipples against my chest were a most delightful torture.
I rolled onto my back, tucking Pearl against my side, her head laying against my chest. She sighed and snuggled against me, hooking a leg over my thighs.
We lay peacefully for a few minutes, our mingled scents filling the room.
“Oh shit!” Pearl sat up, her gaze going first to the table and then back to me. “The ceviche.”
“What about it?”
“It was dinner. Aren’t you hungry?”
Pearl gazed at me, face flushed, and lips swelled from our kisses. Her creamy flesh glistened with a faint sheen of moisture, and her nipples stood red and puffed. Her inner thighs held the shimmering remnants of her arousal. My mouth watered.
“I’m starving,” I growled and rolled Pearl onto her back.
Chapter 11 – Pearl
I had only a minute to enjoy waking in Jutuk’s arms.
Only a minute before the AI let out a sharp screech to signal our arrival back at the space station. After that, everything passed in such a whirlwind that I could barely keep up. The award ceremony began, declaring me the undisputed Best Chef in the Universe. Then came the Baron’s speech, droning on for what felt like an eternity as he boasted about how he alone had recognized my culinary brilliance. It took all of my willpower not to roll my eyes at his self-importance.
The aftermath of the hoopla was a whirlwind of congratulations and praise as the Baron proudly kept me by his side for another few hours so he could bask in the glory. Chancellor Qaimus trailed along as we made our way through the bustling corridors, suggesting each of my contest dishes as a potential addition to the Duke’s upcoming birthday feast. In my absence, the guest list had only grown—nearly quadrupling in size.
As the number of mouths to feed increased, it allowed me to negotiate for some much-needed kitchen assistance. Jutuk, of course, who I claimed had been instrumental in my victory. I chose Aqsa and Deema, along with a few other harem girls who showed potential in the culinary arts.
After lunch, I managed to slip away from the distasteful presence of the Baron and Chancellor Qaimus, seeking refuge in the kitchen. The fragrant aromas of freshly cooked dishes andthe musical bang of pots and pans enveloped me in comfort. The harem girls, having done their duties well in my absence, scattered at my sudden arrival, leaving me alone to gather my thoughts.
As I stood by the counter, surrounded by things that felt like home, I let out a heavy sigh and closed my eyes. The image of Jutuk’s smile flashed in my mind. Hopefully, we’d be able to steal away for a few stolen moments together before I needed to prepare the Baron’s dinner.
When the Baron swept me up on his celebration tour, we got separated. Our gazes met for a fleeting moment, but the intensity in his golden eyes spoke volumes.
I’ll find you later.
I settled at the metal prep table and took stock of the vibrant assortment of veggies and spices scattered throughout the kitchen. The fragrant aroma of herbs filled my nostrils as I scrutinized each ingredient, mentally crafting a menu.
At least I tried.
My thoughts kept drifting back to Jutuk. His face, his scent, his touch... consumed every nerve ending and brain cell. Aqsa and Deema had started dinner prep, and the aroma of cooking meat filled the room. But even that couldn’t distract me from my persistent, aching longing for Jutuk.
After he’d gone down on me—three times—giving me more pleasure than I ever imagined possible, he’d tenderly tucked me into his side and held me close, the heat of his body enveloping me like a cozy blanket. I drifted off to sleep, marveling at how effortlessly I’d let go of my need for control with Jutuk. In his arms, I felt completely protected and at ease, a feeling I’d never experienced before with anyone else. I found this new level of vulnerability and trust both exhilarating and intimidating.
And I didn’t quite know what to do about it.
