Chapter 8 #2
She wanted to honor me and make me work for it and she has exceeded every expectation. My brothers will talk about this for years. Chief’s human Bride broke his arm during the claiming chase. It’s the stuff of legends. Pride swells in my chest, momentarily eclipsing the pain and the need.
I roar out my challenge, the sound echoing off the metal walls. The pain means nothing. The broken bone means nothing. There is only her, and my need to claim her.
I immediately find a secondary entrance to the lab, a maintenance hatch that most beings don’t know about and I make my way inside to corner my female, ready to mate.
She backs away, her eyes darting around the room for another escape route. But there is none. She’s trapped and we both know it. “No,” she shouts, biting and scratching as I reach for her.
It’s wonderful.
Her teeth sink into my shoulder. Her nails rake down my chest, leaving burning trails. Naomi kicks at my shins and tries to knee me in the groin. She’s fighting with everything she has, this small human female against a Xylan warrior twice her size.
And I’ve never been more aroused in my entire life.
I tear her clothing down the back, buttons flying. The fabric rips easily in my claws, falling away from her body in shreds.
“Hey, I like this dress.”
“I’ll buy you a hundred dresses,” I growl against her throat. “A thousand. Every dress on every planet in the four sectors.”
Now all she wears are scraps of fabric that cover her hips and the triangle between her thighs and her perfect breasts. The fabric is also black. My claws flash and her breasts are free for my gaze. They are perfect. Not too big, which I like. I love every curve of her slim body.
She wiggles, still trying to free herself from my arms, trying to continue the chase. Even now, cornered and half-naked, my female doesn’t give up. Gods, I love her.
But I am done. Despite my broken arm, I manage to keep her pinned with my large body.
“Mine,” I roar.
I pull her down with me to the floor. We hit the ground and I keep myself on the bottom and her on top.
Then I roll us over, with her beneath me, bracing myself with my one good arm.
The floor is cold against my knees. The med lab smells of antiseptic and healing gel.
Emergency lights cast a dim blue glow over her features, illuminating the flush on her cheeks, the rapid pulse in her throat.
Naomi pants beneath me, her resistance finally fading. The fight drains out of her body and something else takes its place. Raw, desperate need that matches my own.
And then finally, finally my female complies. She widens her thighs for me, allowing entrance. “Please,” she whispers, and that single word nearly undoes me.
I have never done this before, but this does not mean that I haven’t educated myself, making sure that I would be ready if I was ever to find my mate, ready to bring her pleasure.
I move down her body and place my head between her thighs because I have to taste her, fill myself even more with her taste and scent.
She’s so wet.
I lick and suck at the nub that I know is her spot that brings her the greatest pleasure.
She cries out with joy, grabbing onto my hair and grinding herself closer to my tongue.
The taste of her is indescribable. I could stay here forever, drinking her in.
I should stay right here and bring her to release.
But I can’t wait. This first time, the need is too great, the claiming fire too hot and primitive.
I lift up and plunge two fingers into her tight channel, making sure she’s wet and ready to take me.
She arches off the floor, a moan escaping her lips. “Bayzon. Please. I need—”
“I know what you need.”
Then I cover her and my hips are between her thighs and my throbbing cock finds her entrance. In moments I plunge all the way inside.
She throws her head back and screams.
I pause, waiting for her to assimilate. She’s so tight around me, so hot and wet. The sensation is overwhelming, the pleasure so intense it borders on pain. My broken arm throbs in counterpoint to the throbbing of my cock.
The sharp pain from my arm and the difficulty of having one arm not working, makes it all better.
I’m taking her for the first time, despite the trauma, the pain and the difficulty.
I am showing her I will always be able to protect her.
She honors me with her defiance and then her gift of compliance.
“Are you alright?” I rasp, though every fiber of my being screams at me to move, to thrust.
“Yes.” She wraps her legs around my hips, pulling me deeper. “I’m fine now. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”
Soon my lips cover hers and I slide in and back out, loving the feel of her wet, hot channel. I can hear the squish of our juices as I begin to move faster. She grabs onto me, her legs around my hips, riding with me.
I lose my mind, slamming faster and faster, wanting nothing more than this female, for the rest of my days.
How did I live so long without this pleasure in my life?
The med lab fills with the sounds of our mating.
The slap of skin against skin, her moans, my growls, the wet sounds of our joining.
Somewhere above us, the Dark Moon eclipse continues.
Somewhere beyond these walls, hundreds of Xylan sleep in enchanted slumber.
But here, in this small room, there is only us.
And then I change direction and I must be hitting something deep and perfect for my female because she screams out her release. I can feel the clench of her channel and watch as her back bows and feel the scratch of her nails on my back.
“Bayzon!” My name on her lips is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.
And then my own pleasure floods my system.
My first orgasm ever. I share this only with Naomi.
I lift my head and roar out my release, the sound echoing through the empty corridors of the mine.
The pleasure starts in my spine and races up my back and I’m almost blacking out from the dizzying feel of my seed jetting out and filling my female.
There’s so much. I continue fucking her hard, making sure she gets all of it.
Every pulse of my release is accompanied by a flash of pure ecstasy.
This is what I was made for. This is what I’ve been waiting for my entire life.
Not just the physical pleasure, though that is beyond anything I imagined, but this connection, this completion.
The knowledge that I am hers and she is mine, now and forever.
Finally, I’m empty.
And I collapse onto her, and then to the side, managing to avoid falling on my broken arm.
We lay there in silence for a long moment, both of us gasping for breath. The blue emergency lights hum softly overhead. The floor is hard and cold beneath us, but I couldn’t move even if I wanted to.
She snuggles into my good side, her hand resting on my chest, directly over my heart.
“That was...” she starts, then trails off.
“Yes,” I agree, though she hasn’t finished the sentence. Whatever she was going to say, the answer is yes.
“Your arm,” she murmurs, her fingers ghosting over the swelling. “We need to get that looked at.”
“Later.” I pull her closer with my good arm, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Right now, I just want to hold my Bride.”
She smiles against my chest. “Your Bride. I like the sound of that.”
“Good. Because you’re stuck with me now.”
“I know.” She tilts her head up to look at me, her eyes soft in the dim light. “I think I was stuck with you from the moment I saw you across that ballroom, standing in the corner, brooding.”
“I wasn’t brooding.”
“You absolutely were.” She laughs, and the sound fills my chest with warmth. “But I love you anyway.”
“You love me?”
“I love you.” She says it simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I know it’s fast. I know it’s crazy. But I do.”
I close my eyes, overwhelmed. “I love you too, my Bride. Until days run into time.”
She snuggles closer, and I feel the moment her body relaxes into sleep. We are both exhausted. The mist, the chaos, the chase, the claiming. It’s been the longest night of my life.
And the best.
I smile and pass out beside her, my broken arm cradled against my chest, my Bride warm and safe in the curve of my body.