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sterile? Surely, it would be large…but would it be deceptively suffocating?
    Fiona shook her head slightly. Now wasn’t the time to think about their house. It was her wedding night, and she doubted Merokk would tolerate a distracted bride. She glanced up at her husband and was taken aback by the raw, burning glow in his dark eyes. One look and her worries faded exponentially. Despite his identity, her heart and body were equally drawn to him. Maybe it was her wish to be loved by a man she trusted that caused her to swoon like a schoolgirl, but it was hard to reconcile this trust when he’d been a sworn enemy of all humans just a short time ago.
    Reaching out, he trailed a finger down her cheek, all the way to the hollow of her throat. A streak of fire followed in the wake of his touch, and a jolt of arousal ricocheted through Fiona’s center, straight to her clit. The remainder of her second thoughts evaporated as he cupped her face and pressed a light kiss to her lips. He broke away and held her gaze, and the war-torn world ceased to exist.
    “Come, Betsy. It’s time.”
     
    * * *
     
    Wicked thoughts raced through Merokk’s mind as he locked the bedroom door behind him. Betsy Carson, the quiet, lovely First Daughter, was all his to do with as he pleased. Tonight was about breaking her in, consummating one of the most important marriages in the Kall-Earth treaty and hopefully closing the rift between them. They’d both spoken unkind words to each other the previous night, and while they had reconciled—sort of—Merokk anticipated the sex act would strengthen the ground on which they stood.
    Fiona waited in the center of the room, still wearing her simple but elegant white wedding dress. Her gaze rested upon the large bed against the farthest wall, and he wished he could tap into her thoughts.
    “Step out of your dress.”
    Hands trembling, she complied by reaching around to unzip her gown. It fell to the floor in a whirl of silk, pooling around her feet like a soft, billowing cloud, and she faced Merokk wearing only tight, lacy white underthings. His eyes swept longingly over her body, and his cock sprang to life. Resisting the urge to rub his hand down his front, he approached Betsy with small steps. The air in the room felt heavy, charged with tension and restraint. It took a great deal of self-control for Merokk to keep from throwing her on the bed and ripping her final garments off so he could plunge his ready cock between the sweet folds he’d touched last night. It was in his rights to do so, but a voice in the back of his mind whispered that he wanted all of her, not simply to spend himself inside her without care for her pleasure and, to his astonishment, her heart. He faced her and ran his hands down the soft flesh of her hips, stifling a groan as he did so.
    “You pleased me today, Betsy.” Her eyes lit up, but she didn’t speak. Merokk helped her step out of the wedding dress and motioned for her to remove her painful-looking heels. The lacy underthings came next, and he pushed them down past her thighs to reveal the most perfect pair of legs he’d ever set eyes on—and toenails painted red. He anticipated running his tongue up and down the inside of her thighs, teasing the little button between her pink folds, and driving her wildly over the edge of desire. Tossing her panties and bra to the floor, he reached a hand between her legs and traced her pussy with one finger. Her warm juices caressed his digit, and she leaned against his chest, her delicate moans filling his head with the sweetest of music. She was ready for him, and he’d barely touched her. Perfect. He withdrew his hand and turned her toward the large bed.
    The dim light from the nearby wall lamps bathed her flawless naked body in orange as he guided her down over the covers. Still wearing his wedding attire, Merokk straddled her on the bed and pulled her arms above her head, grasping a wrist in each hand to pin her down. Her