My cock was instantly hard. “You want to be spanked.”
She looked over her shoulder at me and blushed a bright pink.
“Well, a good-girl spanking.”
“A good-girl spanking,” Sambor repeated. “You slammed the door in our faces first. Why?”
“Why?” she said, tossing her hands up in the air. “You’re all gorgeous in your uniform and Prillon leadership clothes, and I’ve got my hair up in a sloppy bun. I have no makeup on, and I’m wearing yoga pants and a T-shirt.”
I looked her over from the wild hair on top of her head to her toes. She was covered in freckles, golden dots all over her face and arms. Sam must have noticed the same thing as he hooked a finger into the round collar of her shirt and tugged it down an inch or so, exposing a few more of them.
“I do not know what yoga is,” I replied absently, intrigued by her gorgeous marks. I hadn’t seen them on her face and chest the night before when we’d gotten her bare.
Why would she hide such rare marks?
“It’s an exercise regimen that made me flexible enough to have my knees by my ears last night.”
My mind shifted to fucking her with my hands on her thighs, pushing her legs up and back. She’d been able to achieve remarkable positions with ease.
Sambor’s eyes widened, and his hands went to her hips, slid down the tight fabric that hid none of her curves.
“You are beautiful, mate,” I said. I remembered her words from the night before when she’d told us about her profession, how she wanted to make females feel confident. That their appearance affected their happiness. I’d said it was a mate’s job to make her feel attractive and confident. It was true. She was gorgeous, and I would never stop telling her that.
She laughed and turned to face me, although she didn’t appear amused. “I look like I should have six cats and drink wine while I knit tea cozies.”
I could understand and communicate with members of every planet in the Coalition, but Lucy had me stumped. I had no idea what to say to that, so I just repeated myself. “You are beautiful, mate.”
She huffed, then started coughing. “What did you say?”
Sambor stroked her back.
“I need to say it again?” I asked.
“You called me ‘mate.’”
“He did,” Sambor clarified. “Not once but twice.”
Her pink tongue darted out and licked her lips. “I’m not your mate.”
“Not yet.” I held up the open collars. “You will be.”
She sputtered, then stepped back, although I didn’t let her go far. “You guys are crazy! I can’t be your mate.”
“Why not?” Sam asked.
“This was supposed to be a one-night stand. No matter how good the sex is, a fling’s not the basis for a true match.”
“You chose us last night out of all the males at the party,” I stated.
She ran her hand over her hair, glanced at the ceiling as if it understood her better than we did. “Most of the guys there are mated. I don’t do married men. Or whatever they’re called in space.”
“That makes you honorable,” Sam stated.
She set her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Honor isn’t enough to spend your life with someone. Two someones.” She waved her hand in my direction.
“The attraction, the connection between us was instant,” I said.
She laughed. “You believe in love at first sight?”