KRAL: A sci-fi alien romance (Mail-Order Brides of Crakair Book 4) by Ava Ross

Author:Ava Ross [Ross, Ava]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2020-10-13T16:00:00+00:00

Fifteen

Mila

He backed away from her and started for the door.

“That’s it?” she said, deepening her voice to make it sound like his. “I will propose, my mate, and you will say yes. I will wear the garlong and prepare the meal and you will eat and enjoy it. And then we will fuck.”

“That is correct.” He bared his fangs.

Jeez. She fanned her face. Panty-melting smile right there.

Her knees shook, and it wasn’t solely because she’d spent days running on the ship or even that they’d had to do the Stairmaster on the way out.

“So where do we go from here?” she said.

He stroked her hair. “You are tired.”

She yawned. “You’re right. I could probably crash right now, but for all I know, it’s mid-afternoon. I could barely keep track of time while outrunning the Al’kieern.” The days had blurred and only the sun rising over the planet below the station gave her a sense of morning versus night.

“It is nearly time for the evening meal, and I will prepare it for you in the traditional Vikir courtship way.”

“Really looking forward to the improvised garlong.” He’d be nearly naked. Could she keep her hands off him long enough for him to cook, serve her, then get down on one knee to propose?

Assuming Crakairians got down on one knee. Well, Kral had come close earlier, when he’d gone down between her knees. Her head spun as she remembered. She wanted that again, and there was one way to make sure it happened. She had to behave herself long enough to let him finish his courtship.

“If you would like to lie down,” he said. “I will let you know when the meal is ready.”

“Perfect.” A little nap would perk her up. Her synapses weren’t firing as they should.

He left the room, and she took off her pants and flopped on top of the bed. Curling on her side, she stared blindly at the wall. The picture hanging there blurred, and she drifted away…

She woke when the mattress shifted and flowed underneath her, oozing up around her arms and legs. Pinning her in place.

Shit. An attack bed!

Shrieking, she scrambled off the surface and backed as far away from the beastly bed as she could get. She watched with wide eyes as it smoothed out again.

Kral leaped through the doorway, his sword in his hand, poised to slice and dice. He crouched inside the room and peered around, his gaze feral. “Where is the threat?”

Her jaw dropped. Holy hell, what was he wearing?

“What are you…” She shook her head. At this point, it didn’t matter what he was wearing. The bed had attacked her. She pointed. “Stab the bed. Stab it hard.”

He straightened, and his sword arm dropped to his side. “You would have me wound the bed.”

“Do it fast before it leaps on me again!”

“The bed will not leap on you.”

“It’s alive. It’s some kind of creature and it tried to smother me.”

He sheathed the sword along his spine—his naked spine—and strode over to the bed.

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