Chapter 12 Orion
orion
Too Close for Comfort
“Lie back and keep your hands above your head,” she says.
Lyra’s words reverberate through the static in my brain, but my body obeys automatically. Most of my conscious thoughts and better judgments fell away with the remainder of her clothing, into some distant space not presently occupied by desire so fierce, my entire body aches.
Both the chaotic desperation from her vellia and my hatred of Fobos—and, okay, jealousy—fade behind the steady beat of one all-consuming thought: mine.
After weeks of spine-tingling discomfort and a buzzing beneath my skin, I’m forced to acknowledge the primal truth of the matter: my body demands Lyra Phoenix as my mate.
My mate. Mine.
My mind knows she isn’t—not really. But my instincts drive me to possess her in ways I’ve never experienced for anyone, even Sylph.
There’s an all-consuming need to bury myself in her, to claim her, to mark her as mine.
To erase the memories of disappointment and failed partnerships from her mind and prove to her that alone isn’t always easier.
I don’t need to hold her tether, exactly, but what might she do if I hand her mine?
Even with my need bludgeoning my brain into submission, my anxiety spikes.
Could I be enough for her? What is “good enough” for a Velusian—for Lyra Phoenix?
With her scent in my nose and the taste of her orgasm still on my tongue, can I be trusted to make her feel the same way I do?
I have to—I have to make this good for her.
“I’m at your disposal,” I rasp as she straddles my hips.
With the soft blue glow of her cabin lights illuminating her from behind, she looks like an ethereal goddess from another universe.
Her pink and brown hair has come loose from her braid, spilling over her shoulders in thick, glossy waves and hanging just above the tips of her peaked nipples.
With no other preamble, she grasps my cock and strokes firmly upward.
It takes everything in me not to thrust into her hand, and a rough moan escapes my lips.
I knew she’d be skilled in the art of pleasure, but from the moment she kissed me, all I’ve been able to think about is how much I want to please her.
Obviously, Lyra has had her fair share of lovers, but this deep-rooted instinct in me wants to leave some mark she can't forget—to be worthy of sharing the bed of this remarkable, heart-stopping half-Velusian.
If only for tonight, I need to claim the one thing I cannot have.
One of her hands encircles my aching cock, stroking slowly, while her other hand explores my body, finding all the places that make me gasp and growl with need. By the time she drags her fingernails lightly across my nipples, I’m getting close to losing control.
“Let me touch you,” I beg. “Please.”
“I’m having too much fun playing with you,” she giggles, the sound like a torturous symphony. “I’ve got a bet with myself to see how long you can hold out. You’re doing very well, by the way. Much better than I thought.”
“You’re killing me, Lyra. For the love of all the stars, I need…”
“I know what you need, Orion,” she says in a low voice that makes my synesfores flicker white.
Before I can form another thought, she bends forward to lick the bead of moisture gleaming at the tip of my cock. I swear. She huffs another laugh and slides me inside her perfect lips, swirling her tongue around my cock in a way that doesn’t feel anatomically possible.
Whatever thoughts remain in my head dissolve immediately. I can’t be sure if my heart continues to beat, if my lungs continue to breathe, if my synesfores continue to pulse. Everything but the slick wet heat of Lyra’s welcoming mouth simply ceases to be.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
“Fuck!” I groan between gritted teeth. The insistent pressure of pleasure dropping down my spine makes me feral with the need to sink into her.
“Tell me I can touch you,” I beg again, my voice ragged with desperation. She slides my cock from her mouth with a wet pop, and the sight—the sound—almost makes me come.
“Why?” she asks, and despite the dim light of the room, I can see her eyes glittering with passionate challenge.
Beneath the haze of raging lust, it strikes me that the play of power turns her on almost as much as it does for me, and suddenly, I know what she wants to hear—the dominant, filthy words from a man dedicated to bringing her pleasure.
“Because if you say yes, I’m going to fuck you until you come on my cock and scream my name,” I groan.
Her delighted gasp is soft—sweet. Entirely at odds with the hungry, feral excitement on her face.
“Is that so?” she murmurs, sliding her hands up my thighs to my abdomen. She drags her nails across the synesfores dotting my chest and it feels like electric sparks popping along my skin.
“Please,” I choke. The intensity of the sensation threatens to light my body on fire and I know there will be no coming back from this.
She smiles and straddles me again, positioning my cock at her slick entrance.
“Very well,” she sighs, hips poised above mine. “Since you begged me so prettily.”
In one agonizingly slow movement, she slides down onto me and I throw my head back with a desperate groan. Her wet tightness grips me perfectly, as if she was made for me.
She is, my instincts roar.
As she starts to move above me, the sleek friction of our joined bodies nearly makes me weep.
It’s never been like this. Lightning arcs beneath my skin, from my nerve endings to my muscles and my entire universe narrows to one pinpoint of truth wavering in the distance like an event horizon: I will beat back the Death Goddess herself if it means feeling this again.
“Gods, Lyra, you feel so good—you’re perfect. I’ve never had anything so perfect,” I moan.
“Good,” she whimpers. “Touch me here, Orion—I want to come on your cock.” She tugs my hand away from her breast and directs my fingers to her clit, showing me the right movements and pressure.
Her soft whimpers and gasps send arrows of heat straight to my cock and when she starts to move faster—bouncing up and down on top of me in a heated rhythm—I can’t hold back any longer.
With a growl, I wrap one arm around her waist and roll her beneath me.
Her delighted laughter bubbles up between us and she lifts one knee up to her chest to give me better access to that secret spot of pleasure deep within her.
Need pushes me on, my instincts taking over as I piston into her, chasing the high that I know will come all too soon.
I’m mindless with lust and physical need, too far gone to heed the worries my mind whispers.
What happens when this is over? She is not yours.
She will go back to Brill. She will still steal from you—you cannot trust her.
You’re desperate for her but she said for herself—love isn’t in her future.
And once you’re gone, once this is done and you’ve come and you’re both spent, she will go on as if this was an itch to be scratched and you will never be the same.
She has ruined you for all others, and you are nothing to her.
Looking down at her beautiful face, seeing her lush lips hanging open and her sparkling violet eyes burning with lust, I refuse to face the truth of it.
“I’m close, Orion—are you gonna fill me up with that big, hard cock of yours? Come with me,” she moans.
Her lascivious words unlock the final piece of my pleasure and my orgasm rips through me like wildfire. I come with a bellow as she shrieks beneath me, thrusting her hips up to mine.
“Yes, yes!” she shouts. I lean down and bite her neck—the possessive gesture feeling ancient and primal.
With that, she shatters once more, locking her legs around my waist and clawing at my back.
I know there’ll be marks in the morning and it fills me with a perverse sense of male pride. My mate is well pleased.
Once the final tremors of bliss have finished rolling through our entwined bodies, I collapse in a sweaty, exhausted heap, being careful not to crush her. She nuzzles into me, emitting a satisfied hum.
“Stars, Orion—it kills me that we’ve been stuck on this ship for weeks and you could’ve been fucking me like that the whole time,” she chuckles.
“Is it like that for you every time?” I ask, immediately regretting my question. Sex with Lyra has been world shattering for me—galaxy shattering, even. I don’t think I can stand to hear that it isn’t for her, too.
“Actually, never mind,” I say with a wince. “I don’t think I want to know.”
She rolls over to her side and props her head up on her elbow.
“You were incredible,” she insists. “Definitely one of the best I’ve ever had.” She drops a kiss on the tip of my nose. My indignation starts to rise before I realize she’s teasing me again.
“One of the best, huh?” I say, reaching down to pinch her nipple. She squeals and tries to wriggle away from me, but I drag her back into my arms and press her against me. The telltale tingle at the base of my spine ignites again, but the buzzing is warm and pleasant. She feels too good to hold.
“Yeah, well, in order to be the best, I’m afraid you’d have to have a few more tentacles,” she answers, stifling another shriek as I swat her ass.
“Torturous creature,” I growl.
As she snuggles into my embrace, I realize the buzzing sensation at the base of my spine has eased.
Glancing between us at my temporarily satisfied cock, I notice my mating nodes flicker to a bright green—a green I’ve never seen before.
The Xylothian green of life, fertility—matehood. Briefly, I think my heart stops.
Mine, my body insists. If Lyra and I were to have sex again, the nodes would swell with the effort to knot her and get her pregnant.
It would be sex with a mate—my mate. Until then, my body will do its level best to encourage me to take her as many times, as many ways as possible. I need to tell her.