Twenty Four
He went over it in his mind and could scarcely believe it. Something had happened to him during the peak of Kara’s pleasure. Something Vraxians often talked about but which he had never experienced himself. Until now.
It is impossible. I must be mistaken.
He could still taste her on his lips and that added to his turmoil. She was human. Human! It was biologically unfeasible. And yet he couldn’t ignore the evidence of his own physical reaction.
Vannla’s Sword. What had he done?
He was shaken to his very core.
Kara raised herself on one elbow and looked down at him.
“That was some thorough research.”
Vahn didn’t answer. Kara glanced at the erection straining through his trousers. The sight of it made her belly clench.
Down, girl. You’ve already gone too far with him.
But look at the size of it!
She lay her hand on the bulge. Its girth made her suck in her breath. Jesus Christ, it was definitely in proportion for a seven foot alien. It would never fit her.
Then again, she was wet. Soaking wet, both from his tongue and her incredible to-die-for climax. Perhaps she could take it. And suddenly she very, very much wanted to try.
“Vahn? Do you want to…”
“We agreed no sex.”
He removed her hand, his voice gruff and angry. Kara blinked in surprise.
“But we’ve just… you made me… why not?”
“Our research is over. I need some air.”
He stormed from the tent, angry with himself and angry with her because she would never understand what had just happened. That it was her fault.
It was still raining but the clouds had cleared a little and a smattering of stars were now peeking through. The night was full of new sounds; water dripping from the leaves, splashes from the lake, nightbirds calling.
The echo of burgeoning life all around, galvanized by the downpour. He imagined he could almost hear germinating plants bursting through the soil.
Holy Zandarr, perhaps that was it. Perhaps his unexpected reaction was simply an extension of the essence now flowing through this cursed planet. That had to be it. That must be the reason.
Because the only other explanation was simply impossible.
He walked away from the tent, trying to put some distance between him and the human.
Kara.
Even thinking about her name did something strange to his insides.
And her taste. By the Temple of Ayanlesh, her taste! If he could spend his final moments with his face buried between her thighs, it would be a happy death.
No! He would not think like that. He would not accept what had happened. It could not be true.
He raised his eyes to the heavens seeking guidance from the gods.
It could not be true that as he brought the human to orgasm, as she trembled against his mouth, a certainty had taken shape in his mind. An unshakeable belief in both heart and head. An absolute truth in the very marrow of his bones.
This female was his one true mate.
It was something Vraxians experienced when they met the partner they were destined to be with forever. They called it kalehsh.
An unbreakable love.
Their scientists weren’t sure how or why it happened. It was both a physical and mental reaction, a behavioral urge forged by a complex interaction of chemicals, hormones and neurons.
But that clinical explanation fell far short of what he’d experienced as he feasted on her. An irrefutable conviction had swept through him like a tidal wave, resonating with the force of an ocean through his chest and abdomen. Kara was his mate.
That was why he hadn’t killed her the moment he’d met her, and why he’d tried to ravish her in his delirious state. On some level, he knew she was his.
But she’s Terran. It’s unnatural. Abhorrent. I refuse to accept it!
His zarnad begged to differ. It throbbed still, as hard as it was when she had laid her small hand on it and invited him to…
Drek. He would nip this in the bud. Now.
He unzipped his trousers and took himself in hand, calling to mind the last Vraxian he’d lain with. A beautiful female, nubile and athletic, with an appetite to match his own. He remembered how he’d fucked her from behind, hard and fast.
Rain dripped from his hair and shoulders but he paid it no heed. He focused on the memory, trying to hold on to it as he stroked himself with increasing urgency. Yet flashes of Kara kept creeping in.
Her glorious curves, her breathless cries, the way she had writhed in abandon as he licked her beautiful feresh .
The taste of her. Vannla’s Sword, the taste of her sweet, sweet juices.
No. She cannot be my kalehsh. She cannot.
He tried to push the images away but they kept filling his mind. The way she squirmed on his tongue, the way she looked as she came.
He brought himself to a deep, shuddering climax with her name on his lips.
Afterwards he let the rain wash him clean and wondered what in the name of Ayanlesh he was supposed to do now.