“Please, Chief Commander,” the Rigellen attendant murmured back. “I promise that the judges have a reason for seating everyone in this way. If you wish to continue to compete in the Trials, you must sit where you have been placed.”
“I’ll be fine, Rarev,” Em told him, when it seemed that the big Monstrum was going to protest again. “Really I will. I can look after myself.”
Rarev simply gave her a look and she imagined he must be thinking of the two narrow escapes she’d had the day before, first with the octo-lobster-scorpion Om’bobla had created and then when she’d nearly drowned just trying to take a shower.
Still, under normal circumstances she was perfectly able to take care of herself, and she was determined that breakfast was going to be completely normal. Well, as normal as breakfast on an alien planet with alien tablemates could be, anyway.
“I’ll be fine,” she repeated. “And I’ll be just across the table. If anything happens, I promise I’ll ask for help.”
Rarev nodded reluctantly.
“Well…all right. But that bastard had better keep his distance!” he growled, glaring at Om’bobla, who appeared to be wholly engaged in molding the white lump of clay in front of him.
At least the clay had been portioned out this time, Em saw. Everyone at the table had a more or less equal piece. It had probably been done to keep the squid man from taking the lion’s share of the edible clay and making something bizarre with it. It was a pity such measure had to be taken, but some people just couldn’t be trusted. Common sense, as Em’s mum used to say, isn’t so common.
“Let’s get seated and we can talk more after breakfast,” she said to Rarev.
“All right,” he growled reluctantly. “I’ll be right across the table if you need me.”
“I’ll be sure to let you know,” Em promised.
She started to sit, but before she could take her seat, the big Monstrum took her by the shoulders and kissed her possessively, in full view of the entire table.
Em gasped and found herself kissing him back, rather more passionately than she’d intended. But there was something about the wild, spicy taste of his mouth that called to her. Kissing Rarev was unlike kissing any other man—possibly because his mouth was shaped a bit differently, or the fact that he had actual fangs, like a lion’s. But mostly it was the way he kissed her—as though he longed to devour her from the mouth down—as though she was the only woman in the world for him and he was marking her as his.
When he finally let her go, Em felt quite breathless and even a bit unsteady on her feet. Rarev pulled out her chair for her and helped her into it.
“Remember,” he murmured in her ear, as he leaned over to help push her chair in a bit, “For as long as we’re here, you’re mine, my l’eeja. And I protect and care for what’s mine.”
Em felt a little flutter around her heart at his possessive, dominant words. They called to mind the way he’d demanded that she look at him the night before and memories of his golden eyes burning into hers as he lapped her pussy flooded her mind again.
“I…I’ll remember,” she said breathlessly. “Have a good breakfast.”
“You do the same,” Rarev murmured. And then he finally left and sauntered around the table, to take his own place between Lady Tabuu and Channa.
Em straightened herself in her chair and attempted to get her heart rate under control. It seemed to her that the big Monstrum was acting much more possessive than he had the day before. Maybe he felt he had more of a claim on her, after the things they had done together.
To be honest, Em rather felt the same way. It wasn’t logical and, as a modern woman, she ought to object to the idea. But she found she rather liked it instead. It was nice to have a man—especially a man like Rarev—feeling possessive and protective of her, especially since no man had felt that way about her in a long, long time. If ever, considering how Nigel—
“So how are you today, my dear?”
Lord Torrid’s words broke into her train of thought and Em turned to see that he was still poking listlessly at his making-clay.
“Just fine, thank you,” she said, beginning to shape her own clay. Today she was going to have a full English breakfast, she decided. She really was quite hungry after having almost nothing to eat for so long. “And yourself? she asked.
“Ah…I shall be well enough when I am reunited with my lovely Tabuu.” Lord Torrid stared across the table longingly at his wife, who was listening without speaking as Om’bobla said something to her. “How I miss her!” he said, and sighed as though they’d been parted a thousand years instead of a few minutes.