moment, J’are wandered from the bathroom into the bedroom. He had finished drying himself but hadn’t felt the need to keep the towel, she saw with some dismay. He was completely naked and it didn’t seem to bother him a bit.
“Wait—there’s one more thing,” Imani said to the box quickly. “Could you please also send me some clothing for a male? Uh, size extra, extra, extra large,” she added.
“Zzertainly, a zzelection of bodyslave clothing will be zzent to your room along with your food,” the buzzing voice told her. Then it clicked off and the white box was silent.
“Well,” Imani muttered, trying not to look at the huge, naked Nightwalker who was wandering around the room, obviously completely comfortable in his skin. “I guess we’ll see how long that takes to get here.”
“Food soon?” J’are came over and looked down at her with a hopeful expression on his face.
“Yes, food soon,” Imani promised him, trying not to look down at his still-hard shaft. God, didn’t he ever go down?
Now that he was clean with no black paint on him, she couldn’t help but admire his physique. He was so big and muscular everywhere and he had a kind of unconscious, animal grace when he moved. He sort of flowed across the room, moving so smoothly he reminded her of a huge cat. The thick black tattoo-like markings that ran down his arms and back and across his chest made him look exotic and dangerous.
Well, he certainly was dangerous—she knew that for a fact, considering how many other prisoners he had killed. But now that she had “Claimed” him, she didn’t feel threatened by the big Nightwalker at all. Though he did seem to feel that her Claiming had some unusual and unexpected connotations, she thought, remembering the way he had demanded she wash him “everywhere.”
The memory of jerking him off made her cheeks get hot again. Why had she done it? She should have refused. But she’d felt almost hypnotized by those pale green eyes and the way he had said, “I am yours,” as he came.
Her illicit thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.
Imani went to answer it, but J’are was suddenly there ahead of her, growling low in his throat as he stared at the door.
“It’s all right,“ Imani put a hand on his arm soothingly. “It’s just room service. Just food,” she corrected herself, seeing that he didn’t understand.
But even the mention of food couldn’t make J’are back down. He stood there naked, blocking the door, so that Imani was forced to reach around him to open it.
Outside was a male servant dressed in the golden livery of the Luxx. He was pushing a golden cart which hovered three feet off the ground and had a number of golden domes resting on it. His eyes widened when he saw the huge Kindred standing there, blocking the way.
“D-delivering what you ordered, My Lady?” he stammered, seeing Imani peering around J’are’s broad shoulder.
“Oh yes, thank you. You can bring it right in,” Imani told him. She put a hand on J’are’s arm. “Come on now—let him bring it in. That’s our dinner, okay?”
J’are’s nose wrinkled and he inhaled deeply, as though assessing if the male servant posed any threat. At last he stepped back and allowed the man to push the hovering cart into the room.
“I’ll just set your Last Meal up here on the dining table, if I may, My Lady?” the servant asked, still keeping a nervous eye on J’are.
“Dining table?” Imani asked but the servant was already opening a door off of the living area, which she had assumed was another bathroom. Inside was a lavishly decorated dark wood dining table with eight gold brocade chairs and a crystal chandelier hovering—-apparently without any ropes or cords—high above the surface of the table.
The servant went to work quickly, unloading the gold-domed plates along with some eating utensils and napkins. He even left a covered basket, which he told Imani was a selection of tropical fruits—“On the house, of course, because you ordered so many fine dishes. The kitchen wanted to send its respects and gratitude.” He was about to leave when he looked at J’are one more time and snapped his fingers.
“Oh, I almost forgot, My Lady! Here are the clothes you ordered. If they don’t fit, you can call for a different size.”
From under the cloth covering the floating cart, he drew out several silk-wrapped packages and stacked them in one of the chairs.
“Thank