Chapter 8 Supernova #2
My trousers don’t stand a chance. One sharp tug and the fastening gives; another and they’re pooled around my ankles. He presses his mouth to the front of my underwear, breathing me in like I’m something sacred, and the vibration against my clit even through fabric makes my knees buckle.
“Rynn—”
“Hold still,” he growls, and hooks his fingers in the waistband of my underwear. Instead of pulling them down, he tears them clean off—literally rips the fabric away—and then his mouth is on me with no barrier, tongue delving into slick folds like he’s starving.
I scream. I actually scream, because the vibration is inside me now, rolling against my clit in waves while his tongue fucks into me with devastating precision. My hands scrabble at the wall behind me, searching for something to hold onto as my legs threaten to give out.
He pins my hips with one hand, holding me exactly where he wants me, and slides two fingers inside me without warning. The stretch combined with that relentless vibration makes my vision go white at the edges.
“Gods—Rynn—please—”
He curls his fingers, finds that spot that makes me see stars, and hums against my clit. The vibration intensifies until I’m sobbing, thighs shaking, so close I can taste it.
Then he stops.
Pulls his mouth away, fingers still buried deep but no longer moving, and looks up at me with black eyes and a wicked, wicked smile.
“Not yet,” he says, voice like gravel. “I’ve waited too long to rush this.”
I’m going to kill him. I’m actually going to murder an alien prince.
He stands slowly, dragging his tongue up my body as he goes—over my stomach, between my breasts, along my throat—until he’s looming over me again. His fingers are still inside me, barely moving, just enough to keep me trembling on the edge.
“Please,” I whisper against his mouth. “I need—”
“I know what you need,” he says, and finally, finally starts moving his fingers again—slow, deep strokes that make my toes curl. “But I’m going to give you everything first.”
He kisses me as he works me open—three fingers now, stretching me with careful patience while his thumb circles my clit in lazy figure-eights. The vibration never stops, a constant thrum that’s building something massive inside me.
When he finally pulls his fingers free, I whine at the loss, but then he’s lifting me—hands under my thighs, pressing me back against the wall—and I wrap my legs around his waist instinctively.
He carries me the three steps to the narrow bunk like I’m made of spun glass and starlight, even though his hands are shaking with the effort of holding back.
When he lowers me to the mattress, I expect him to follow immediately, to cover me and take.
Instead, he stands at the foot of the bunk, breathing hard, eyes devouring every inch of bare skin I’ve offered him.
The bioluminescence along his chest and arms is strobing now, faster, brighter, reacting to the sight of me spread out and waiting.
I prop myself up on my elbows, chest heaving. “Rynn.”
He reaches for the fastening of his trousers with fingers that aren’t quite steady. The sound of the magnetic seal parting is obscenely loud in the small cabin.
“Wait,” I rasp.
He freezes instantly, hand on his waistband, vulnerability flashing across his face like lightning. Fear that this is the moment I come to my senses and stop everything.
“I want to watch,” I tell him, voice rough. “Slowly.”
The relief that floods his features is so raw it steals my breath. Then his smile turns filthy, predatory, utterly shameless.
He takes his time.
One deliberate inch at a time, he slides the trousers down over sharp hips, revealing more glowing lines that arrow downward like guiding light.
The scales along his thighs shimmer electric blue when the fabric drags over them.
When the trousers finally pool at his feet and he steps free, I forget how to breathe.
He’s… magnificent.
Long, thick, flushed darker than the rest of him, and ridged in subtle, spiraling patterns that catch the light every time he shifts. A bead of moisture pearls at the tip, glowing faintly, like everything else about him right now.
“Still want me?” The question is quiet, almost shy beneath the bravado.
I sit up, strip off the last scraps of my clothing in three frantic movements, and lie back again. I let my knees fall open, offering myself completely.
“Come here and find out.”
He’s on me in a heartbeat.
The first full press of naked skin on naked skin rips a cry from my throat. He’s burning, vibrating, every inch of him claiming mine. His cock slides along my folds, coating himself in how wet I am, and the ridges drag over my clit in a way that makes my vision spark.
“Slow,” I gasp, even though slow is the last thing my body is asking for. “Please, if you, if we, I need this to last longer than thirty seconds or my pride will never recover.”
He laughs, low and ragged, the sound vibrating straight through my sternum. “Your pride. That’s what you’re worried about right now?”
“I have standards, oh fuck.”
He’s kissing his way down my body again, mouth hot and open, fangs grazing but never breaking skin. When he reaches the juncture of my thighs he doesn’t tease this time; he simply spreads me wider and licks one long, slow stripe from entrance to clit that has my hips bucking clear off the bunk.
“Rynn!”
He pins my thighs down with forearms like steel and does it again. And again. Until I’m writhing, begging, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes from how good it is.
Only then does he crawl back up my body, settling between my legs, the head of his cock nudging at my entrance.
“Breathe, kethara,” he whispers, and starts to push in.
It’s a stretch. Gods, the stretch. Even after his fingers, even after how wet I am, he’s big and those ridges catch on every sensitive spot inside me as he sinks deeper. The vibration is everywhere now, inside and out, resonating through my clit, my g-spot, places I didn’t know existed.
When he’s finally seated to the hilt, we both stop breathing for a moment.
He drops his forehead to mine, trembling. “So tight. So perfect. I can feel you fluttering around me.”
I can’t answer with words. I roll my hips experimentally and the drag of those ridges makes us both groan.
“Move,” I finally manage. “Please move.”
He pulls back slowly, almost all the way out, and slides home again in one smooth thrust that punches the air from my lungs.
Again.
Again.
Each stroke winds the coil inside me tighter. The bunk creaks beneath us; the metal walls echo with the slap of skin on skin, my broken moans, his guttural growls.
“Harder,” I beg, nails raking down his back, catching on scales that flare white-hot under my touch. “I won’t break. I need.”
Something primal snaps behind his eyes.
The last of his restraint shatters.
He hooks an arm under one of my knees, spreading me wider, and starts fucking me in earnest, deep, punishing strokes that drive the headboard into the wall with every thrust. The ridges on his cock drag over that spot inside me relentlessly, the vibration intensifying until I’m sobbing with it.
“Close,” I gasp, clinging to him. “So close, don’t stop, don’t you dare stop.”
“Look at me,” he snarls, fisting a hand in my hair and forcing my eyes to his. They’re pure black, ringed in molten gold, utterly inhuman and the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “Want to watch you come apart on my cock. Want to see it.”
His other hand snakes between us, thumb finding my clit with devastating accuracy, and that’s it.
The orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave.
I scream his name as pleasure detonates outward from my core, every muscle locking, vision whiting out. My walls clamp down around him in endless pulses and the vibration spikes so hard I swear I feel it in my teeth.
And that’s when the room explodes with light.
The Aethel crystal, still in the pocket of his jacket on the floor, ignites. Pure white light floods the cabin, bright enough to cast razor-sharp shadows, projecting a spiraling star map across the ceiling in frantic, breathtaking patterns.
Rynn’s eyes go wide. He slams into me once, twice, three more times, chasing his own release with desperate fury.
“Polly, fuck, kethara, sha’keth mar.”
He buries himself as deep as he can go and comes with a roar that rattles the bulkheads. I feel every pulse inside me, the heat, the throb, the way the vibration crescendos into something almost painful in its intensity.
His mouth finds the curve of my neck and shoulder. Fangs sink in, sharp and perfect.
The bond locks into place.
It’s physical, a snap behind my sternum like something fundamental just clicked home. Suddenly I’m flooded with him: relief, adoration, ferocious protectiveness, love so fierce it brings tears to my eyes. And threaded through all of it, a single word beating like a second heart.
Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.
He releases my neck, licking the wound, and I can feel his satisfaction at marking me mixing with my own dazed pleasure.
“What—” I try to form words. Fail. “What was that?”
“The bond.” His voice is wrecked. “You’re mine now. Permanently. Irrevocably.”
I touch the bite mark on my neck, feel the slight sting, and another wave of his emotions washes through me. He’s terrified I’m going to be angry. Terrified he took something I didn’t mean to give.
“I can feel you,” I whisper. “In my head. Your emotions.”
“Is it—” He pulls back to look at my face, and the vulnerability there is staggering. “Is it too much? I can—there are techniques to dampen it if—”
“Don’t you dare.” I cup his face, make him look at me. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
The relief that floods through him—through us—is so strong it makes my chest ache.
We lie there for a long moment, tangled together, breathing hard, covered in sweat and other fluids, while the light from the crystal slowly fades to a soft, steady pulse.
“The crystal,” Rynn says suddenly. He pulls out of me—we both wince—and reaches down to grab his jacket from the floor.
The diplomatic case is warm to the touch, the locking mechanism glowing faintly. When he presses his thumb to it, the seal disengages with a soft hiss.
Inside, the Aethel crystal is no longer just beautiful. It’s active, pulsing with internal light, and when Rynn picks it up I can see data streaming across its faceted surface.
“It unlocked,” he breathes. “During the— When we—”
“When you claimed me?” I finish. “Yeah, I noticed the light show. Very dramatic. Ten out of ten for timing.”
He stares at the crystal, turning it over in his hands. His expression isn’t wonder; it’s shock.
“The lock,” he murmurs. “It is a biological safety protocol. Ancient. It was designed to withstand extreme conditions—to ensure data could only be accessed by a Valorian in a state of absolute, peak biological intensity.”
“Like adrenaline?” I ask, propping myself up on one elbow.
“Like a berserker rage,” he corrects, looking at me with eyes that are slowly bleeding back to amber.
“It was designed for war, Polly. For a soldier pushed to the absolute limit of survival, where every cell is screaming for preservation. My father... he must have assumed I would only unlock it if I was dying. Or killing.”
He sets the crystal down and reaches for me, his hand trembling slightly as he traces the line of my jaw.
“I didn’t unlock it with rage,” he whispers. “I unlocked it with... this. With you.”
“So you’re saying you overwhelmed a military-grade bio-lock with the sheer power of being incredibly horny and possessive?”
A laugh startles out of him—deep and genuine. “I am saying that my biology apparently decided that securing this data was less important than securing you. The resonance... the bond... it spiked my systems higher than any war ever could.”
“I like that version better,” I decide, leaning into his touch. “Less ‘destiny,’ more ‘accidental overload of passion.’”
“It wasn’t accidental,” he says, his thumb brushing over the bite mark on my neck. “It was inevitable.”
I touch the mark again, feeling the slight raised edges of the healing wound. In the reflection of the polished metal wall panel, I can see it’s already taking on a faint golden shimmer—like his scales left some kind of bioluminescent residue in the tissue.
“I’m glowing,” I say.
“You’re marked.” The possessive satisfaction radiating from him is almost comical. “Everyone will know you’re claimed now.”
We lie there in the cooling air, the crystal still projecting its silent star map above us. The data is unlocked. The bond is sealed.
Whatever happens next... we aren’t facing it alone.
I close my eyes, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for the first time in my life, I don’t feel the urge to run.
I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.