Page 33 of Dax: Gratefully Bonded

But then again, he’d never asked me into his bed at all before, and he’d given me no instructions about needing to go back to my room, before he’d fallen asleep. So it was just as plausible that he wanted me to stay.

But he was defensive of his personal space, and didn’t generally like to be touched…

I eased towards the edge of the bed and pulled back the covers, intending to return to my own bed.

At that moment, my master rolled over, slinging an arm over my waist, his face pressed into my back. I waited a moment, thinking maybe he was awake… or that he would wake up in a moment, and then wonder what I was still doing there. But he didn’t. He made a light, grumbling sound, then settled down to sleep again, his arm curled tightly around my waist.

Well, apparently I was sleeping here, then.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Zeke

Iwoke up in the morning, feeling surprisingly refreshed, given that Dax had had to wake me from a nightmare. I hadn’t dreamed any more after he’d climbed into the bed with me – or at least not that I remembered – and then I’d woken briefly when he’d slipped out of bed around seven in the morning. He’d wandered off to make breakfast, or clean the kitchen, or whatever it was he did at that hour of the morning, while I’d drifted off for another snooze, waking up properly at a quarter past eight.

I sat up, stretched, then yawned. Sunlight was filtering in around the blinds, though the weather prediction was for rain in the afternoon.

Dax must have heard me moving about, because he appeared in the doorway a moment later, a cup of coffee in hand. “Good morning, sir,” he said, coming forward to set the cup on the nightstand, along with my usual pill. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I did,” I said. But even as I was speaking, I could feel a frown settling on my face. “Are you okay?” I asked him. “You look nervous.”

A look of near-panic crossed Dax’s face… and then he abruptly knelt on the floor beside the bed, his head bowed. “I have disobeyed you, sir,” he blurted out.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up,” I said, hastily shimmying over to the side of the bed. His whole body was trembling. I put my hands on his shoulders, tugging him up to face me. “What the hell is going on?”

A ripple of bright violet fluttered across his collarbones – a sign of agitation? It disturbed me that I didn’t know how to interpret any of his signals. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “I disobeyed you last night. I did not intend to… but nonetheless, I understand that I should be punished.” He ducked his head again, while I felt a cold wave run through me. What the fuck was happening? Was this something to do with asking him into my bed? Oh god, how badly had I fucked up this time?

“What did you do to disobey me?” I honestly wasn’t the slightest bit worried about whatever it was. Dimari were compelled to obey their masters, so I expected it to be some minor slip-up – forgetting to order the groceries, for example, or buying the wrong brand of shampoo.

“I climaxed in my sleep.”

I sat there, stunned, replaying the words over in my head. He couldn’t mean what I thought that meant. Was there some odd cultural nuance at play here? Was my translator glitching?

“What do you mean, you climaxed in your sleep? You mean you…” Fuck, was I actually going to have to say this? “You had an orgasm?”

“Yes, sir,” Dax said, his head dipping lower. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Did he mean he’d been rutting against me in his sleep? I wasn’t thrilled about the idea… but then again, if he’d been asleep, then it was hardly his fault. “Inmybed, do you mean?”

He shook his head vigorously. “No, sir. In my own bed. Before I woke you.”

Okay, now I was thoroughly confused. How was that disobeying me? And what the hell did he expect me to do?

“Um… right. Well, I’m… I’m not angry, Dax,” I said gently. I had no clue how dimari were trained, but that sounded a lot like some of the strict purity laws I’d read about in the depths of human history – people banned from masturbating, ostracised for having sex, or shamed for enjoying the act. I considered what to say next. Aiden had impressed upon me the need to avoid saying certain things to Dax – such as the fact that I was not his intended master – and given how well the past few days had been going, I didn’t want to screw anything up now. But I had no idea what an appropriate response was. “I’m going to need to talk to Aiden about this,” I said eventually. “How about you go and make us both some breakfast, and we’ll talk about this more later?”

“Yes, sir,” he said, climbing to his feet. The glance I got of his face as he turned to leave was a picture of abject misery.

I reached for my comm, sitting on the nightstand, and strapped it to my wrist. I dialled Aiden without hesitation. He’d said I could call him at any time, and given Dax’s level of distress, I didn’t want to leave this stewing. Then, on second thought, I scurried out of bed and closed the bedroom door. Dax probably didn’t need to overhear this conversation.

“Morning,” Aiden said, when he answered the call. His face popped up in a hologram above my wrist. “What’s up? Shit, did you just get out of bed?”

I glanced down at myself and groaned. I didn’t have any clothes on aside from a thin pair of sleeping shorts and my hair was likely a mess. Thankfully, the comm wouldn’t be projecting anything below my shoulders, so that should stop Aiden from getting an eyeful. “Yeah. Something happened last night, and I have no clue what to do about it.”

Aiden was irritatingly put together for this hour of the morning. He was dressed, bright eyed and bushy tailed, and had no doubt already had his first cup of coffee. The image swayed a little, as if he was walking around, then it settled. “Tell me everything,” he said, with serene aplomb.

Oh god. I’d called Aiden without really thinking about it, but now that I had, I had to explain to him what Dax had said. And the more I thought about it, the more confused I was getting. “Dax came and knelt in front of me this morning and apologised for disobeying me. He seemed fairly distraught about it. He said he’d…” How was I supposed to phrase this? “He was apologising for having a wet dream.” It was as neat a way as I could describe it, while still being clear about exactly what had happened.

Aiden’s reaction was nothing like I’d expected. I’d been expecting a simple dismissal, accompanied by some brief explanation about dimari culture or training, and perhaps a bit of advice about how to get Dax to calm down. But instead, Aiden covered his face with a hand and the microphone picked up a muted, “Oh, fuck.”