17. Sol’s Glorious Light
17
Sol’s Glorious Light
ISSA
W ith her saga complete, Issa braced, expecting resistance and disdainful skepticism.
Instead, Ki’Remi reached for her.
Not with hesitation. Not with uncertainty. With intent.
His sinewed, muscled arms gripped her with care as if he could sense the fragile unraveling inside her.
She didn’t pull away, though she knew she should.
However, her mask was cracking.
Her breath hitched as she pressed against his heat, a solid, steady anchor in her chaotic world.
His scent surrounded her: spiced rum, dark smoke, and a decadent musk that was uniquely his.
For a long moment, they remained silent, curved into each other in the privacy of the metanoid shield over them.
Without warning, the dam inside her broke.
Her shoulders shuddered, and she sobbed, free of restraint, devoid of the usual defiance she hid behind.
His sizable hands worked her spine, running up and down, offering heat, warmth, and security.
Which only wracked her even harder.
She didn’t cry because she felt weak.
She cried because she was so tired of being strong.
She trembled against him, inching up to clutch at his shirt as she let go of years of sorrow.
He scrambled in his trousers and handed her a silk kerchief.
She took it, scrubbing away her tears.
Ki’Remi muttered a low curse, his grip tightening, one palm burying itself in her nape.
His chest rumbled beneath her cheek as he growled, ‘I hate seeing suffering. I loathe it even more when I can’t fix it.’
She swallowed, closing her eyes, letting herself rest in his embrace.
Then, unbidden, she was hit with longing.
Her fingers curled against his shirt, gripping the fabric as she lifted her face.
Their eyes met, his silver meta storm contrasting her molten celestial wildness.
Without warning, she kissed him.
There was no hesitation or build-up.
Just the raw, aching need to forget her problems for one stolen moment.
Ki’Remi responded at once.
A low growl vibrated through his chest as he kissed her back in a slow, deep, possessive claiming of her mouth.
His lips moved over hers with a gentleness that threatened to unleash more tears from her, his fingers in her hair, massaging her nape, undoing her with gentleness.
Contrasting with the raw power coiled in his body like a tight-leashed plunderer holding back just enough to let her set the pace.
Her fingers slid up his muscled torso, loving how they bunched and flexed at her stroking. On she went, sliding over the steady pulse in his throat, up to his jaw, feeling the rough scrape of his beard.
He angled his head and deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips, demanding more.
She gave it to him because, at that moment, she craved to be reckless.
She wanted to feel something other than obligation, other than duty.
When they pulled apart, her breath was unsteady, her lips swollen, and her body on fire.
Ki’Remi’s gaze burned into hers, a dark and dangerous simmering beneath his controlled exterior.
Still, he didn’t push.
Instead, he reached for his glass, poured her a generous tot from the bottle the server had left on the table, and nudged it toward her.
‘Drink,’ he ordered, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.
She smirked as her hands trembled when she picked up the goblet. ‘Are you trying to intoxicate me, Commander?’
His lips quirked. ‘You need it.’
She took a slow sip, sighing as scorching heat burned down her throat. The drink was rich and complex, with the perfect bite of spice.
Ki’Remi kept his gaze on her with an uncharacteristic glint in his eye. ‘You know, if your so-called gods were as potent as they believe, they wouldn’t need to blackmail their people with soul-sucking rocks and implosion curses.’
She choked on her drink, half laughing and sputtering.
‘The fokk , Sable?’
His mouth twitched again. ‘I’m just saying, if I were some all-powerful celestial entity, I’d probably figure out a better way to find a cure for my diminishing immortality, put all those ancient eggheads together to find a remedy. Maybe lead my people instead of throwing a tantrum and tossing them into the lower realms when they refuse to sacrifice their souls.’
Issa laughed, a belly-deep chuckle she hadn’t let loose in years.
‘You’re chaotic,’ she accused, shaking her head.
His visage turned smug. ‘I try.’
She sipped her rum, still grinning. ‘If the Saatifa guard caught wind of your statement, you’d be struck down with divine lightning for blasphemy.’
His brow lifted, his countenance unbothered. ‘Then at least I’ll die knowing I was right.’
‘Do you always have to be right, so fokkin ’ unerring and pushy about it?’
‘Only when it gets me what I want.’
Static shifted.
The humor between them smoldered, shifting into a charged, scorching blaze.
The desire and constant taut tension beneath their fights, banter, and battles flamed and pulsed, an inferno waiting to be quenched.
Ki’Remi angled his head, eyes on her, his voice dropping into a more resounding, rougher cadence.
‘And I want you, Issa Elaris.’
There it was.
Stated in Ki’Remi’s confident, abrasive, uncompromising, yet so freakin’ sensual style.
Issa stilled.
Her pulse slammed against her ribs.
He wasn’t beating around the bush; neither was he the kind of man to play games.
She tilted her head, gazing at him with motive, gauging his offer.
What did ‘ want ’ mean?
Did it imply a night of recklessness?
Or crossing a line that she had no intention of returning from?
Regardless, the raw need in Ki’Remi’s gaze made it very clear, for he wasn’t a man of half-measures.
If she said yes, if she trusted him for even one night, he would take her apart piece by piece.
Would she survive him? Or the blaze of their passion?
He leaned in and stretched his hand for hers. ‘Don’t overthink it, Elaris. Let go, let flow.’
Her fingers slid over the smooth rim of her glass.
With a ragged inhale, she placed her hand in his.
A muscle ticked in his jaw, his satisfaction curling like a dark promise behind his eyes.
‘Good choice,’ he murmured, his thumb sweeping over her palm in a slow, devastating caress.
This right here, his bulk, heat, and sinew, gave her a chance to release, to find some ease and solace.
She didn’t want to be patted on the back for how well she had taken hit after hit over the years.
She wanted to lose herself in feeling.
He tugged her hand, and she rose and eased from the booth.
They locked eyes, and then she sliced hers from him and took her first step.
Into the unknown.
His other hand settled against the small of her back as he followed, all lethal grace and unyielding dominance.
Without a word, he prowled past their server and Mo, his silent command making both men fall back.
He didn’t look at them.
His entire focus was on her, on her face, his hand encircling her, cradling her frame to his solid physique.
She’d never felt so wanted, so needed, so freakin’ cherished.
The lift slid ajar.
He turned, his grip on her hand tightening.
With absolute certainty, he led her inside.
The elevator doors whispered open, revealing a space that seemed more like an extension of him than just a residence.
Issa stepped forward, her heels clicking on the dark, polished ebony floors.
The surface reflected the ambient glow of recessed lighting that ran from floor to ceiling and was embedded seamlessly into the walled paneling.
Deep indigo walls wrapped around the expansive suite, their color shifting in the dim illumination.
The subtle, ancient tribal etchings glowed, almost alive, under the soft illumination.
Her gaze flicked around the room.
Tribal masks, their carved features solemn and watchful, guardians of a forgotten past, were mounted over the sleek, modern fireplace.
Above the mantel, an antique spear lay in careful display, its obsidian tip polished and wicked, a relic of a warrior’s bloodline.
Across from it, a woven ancestral tapestry hung on the far wall.
Its intricate design depicted the old myths of his people, the figures frozen in eternal battle, victory, loss, and legend.
She took a slow breath, her feet drawn to the floor-to-ceiling window that framed the sweeping view of Eden II, stretching beyond the city’s edges.
Where the lunar planet’s twin star-suns melted into the horizon, setting fire to the firmament in molten gold and blood-orange hues.
The metropolis twinkled with a thousand lights, adorned with air-traffic lanes that snaked over the towers, bridges, and hovering transport lanes like a series of jeweled necklaces suspended in the sky.
However, in the silence of his domain, there was only her and him.
She sensed his presence ease behind her, massive and unmistakable, and shivered.
His mouth bent as he murmured a whisper against her spine as his sinewed chest scorched heat along it.
His hands settled on her shoulders, his clasp firm, possessive, unyielding.
She didn’t move, didn’t dare breathe.
Not until he turned his head, his lips brushing the nape of her neck, his exhale a brand on her skin.
Slowly, he swept aside her hair, his palms dragging through the cascading curls, exposing the vulnerable curve of her throat.
His mouth touched her nape in a whisper-soft press, unraveling the tightness inside her.
‘Let me light you up, woman, so you flame the sky on a natural high.’
She sighed in surrender as he moved down, pressing, tugging, enticing heat and tension in its wake.
Then, he hooked his fingers under the straps of her dress, tracing the fragile textile down the exposed slope of her shoulders.
Lower.
His lips followed a slow descent down her shoulder, lingering at the exquisite ridge of her collarbone before grazing the sensitive hollow beneath it.
She exhaled, gripping the edge of the window frame as the textile began to slip.
He didn’t rush, taking his time to peel away the fabric inch by inch, exposing her to the vast city beyond, to the night, to him.
The cool air kissed her exposed skin just as his hands glided down the revealed expanse of her back.
Mapping the curves, the dips, the heat of her body, as her breath caught between anticipation and surrender.
Ki’Remi’s fingers trailed down her spine, slow, measured, until they gripped her hips, widening them.
She gasped as he knelt behind her, mouth trailing to the curve of her waist, where he tugged down her dress, along with the lace briefs she wore.
They pooled around her heels, and she whimpered when he spread her legs further.
Without a word, she felt him dip his head between her thighs and lick.
Her clit quivered as he lavved it.
All she could do was bend over and writhe against the glass, trying to keep her trembling quadriceps from collapsing under her.
With a groan, he twisted her so that she now faced him.
The reflection of the downtown lights danced in his silver glowing, burning gaze, a storm raging just for her.
He hitched one of her limbs over his shoulder and dove back in.
This time, his tongue had no restrictions.
He suckled and lashed some more until she was a quivering mess, hands in his locs, pulling at will.
However, she held back her fire, unwilling to scorch him til she was sure he could handle it.
Still, the bliss was unimaginable.
He flayed and scourged her pussy til, with a raw cry, she shuddered through an orgasm so unfettered she saw stars behind her tight-shut eyes.
He licked until she sagged, weak against his bowed head.
With an inhale, he stood, hauling her flush to him, his heat searing into her bare skin.
Fokk , his scorching cock thudded through his trousers and on her naked flesh as a growl vibrated through his chest, low and hungry.
‘Issa,’ he murmured, her name a promise, a warning.
Then his mouth claimed hers.
Not soft. Not gentle.
A kiss that devoured.
Scenting herself on his mouth ratcheted her desire, and she arched into him, her own hands fisting in his shirt, dragging him closer, needing more.
Ki’Remi kissed her like he meant to ruin her, slow and devastating, his lips a command, his tongue a demand.
Issa moaned, arching into him.
Her fingers dug into his chest as he pressed her back against the glass.
His body was solid, burning, the only anchor in the shifting world of city lights and shadow.
He traced down the curve of her waist, skimming over the silk of her bared skin, gripping her thighs.
In a swift motion, he lifted her, pressing her up onto the cool pane and circling her legs around his hips.
Her breath hitched.
‘Remi.’
His truncated appellation fell from her lips, a whisper, a plea.
He growled, deep and low, as if hearing her husky utterance undid something primal inside him.
His teeth grazed the delicate line of her throat, his tongue following, soothing, and then he bit down, just enough to make her gasp.
He pulled back, eyes burning, dark, hungry, feral.
‘I need to hear you say it, Issa,’ he said, his voice rough, his fingers tracing her skin, teasing, stroking, lighting her up.
She swallowed, on fire, wanting him so bad she trembled.
‘ Naam ,’ she breathed.
That was all he needed.
His mouth was back on hers, hotter, deeper, raw.
Ki’Remi walked them backward, away from the window, his lips never leaving her own.
He then hoisted her in his sinewed limbs and prowled through the space. She took no notice of where they were headed, her eyes locked on his magnificence.
He laid her down on the midnight-dark sheets of his massive bed.
Looming above her, he helped her slip off her heels until he had her bare and trembling, the air cool against her overheated dermis.
The contrast was a shock.
So was the look in his eyes as he stood over her.
Predatory. Possessive. Unforgiving in his need.
Ki’Remi wasn’t a man who lost control.
With her, however, he was on the brink.
Evidenced by the tented column in his pants.
He reached for his shirt and shirked it in one move.
Followed by his slacks and boots.
Revealing his sheer beauty.
Ki’Remi was a living masterpiece.
Tall, broad, and chiseled from utter discipline, each angle a map of sinew, carved muscle, and untamed strength honed over years of relentless conditioning.
His dark honey skin gleamed under the ambient light, sleek with the lingering sheen of exertion.
Every ridge of his torso was defined. From the deep-cut lines of his abdomen to the thick, sculpted bands of his shoulders and arms, flexing with each slow movement he made.
But it wasn’t just his absolute physicality that commanded attention.
It was the tattoos.
Silver and gold metanoid ink shifted restlessly over his flesh, a living network of ancient designs, their movements subtle, almost hypnotic.
Across his biceps and forearms, the metallic filigree pulsed like veins of molten ore, etching his lineage, history, and power into his skin.
Down his back, the markings expanded into intricate tribal sigils, whispering of forgotten legacies and untold strength.
The pigment rippled over the taut ridges of his spine, shifting in response to his every breath, a silent, restless energy woven into his very being.
Over his ribs, a circular formation flickered and reformed like Sol’s glorious light. Its center glowing, a metanoid core, the heart of his enhancements, alive beneath the surface.
The thick cords of his thighs were just as decorated, his ink trailing the deep valleys of muscle, wrapping around his quads like gilded armor.
His hands carried the most striking of all his markings, sigils that ran along his fingers, their shimmering patterns flaring to life whenever his potency activated.
He was both man and machine, warrior and enigma, a mortal synthesis of ancient heritage and cutting-edge evolution.
And when he moved, slow, deliberate, every step a calculated force of dominance, there was no mistaking the sheer, raw force within him.
A predator carved from obsidian and fire, searing and untamed.
Utterly, devastatingly lethal.
But it was his cock that she gasped at.
Thick, so shockingly cosmic, and thudding again, his hardness seeping for her.
Even as his glowing ink coiled over its steel column in celestial constellations, forming and reforming in mesmerizing patterns.
Her pussy flooded as she reached for him.
He let her, with a smirk, as she palmed him and the heavy sac below it.
‘You like?’
‘Who wouldn’t?’ she rasped.
Leaning over her, he ran a hand down her body, his palm slow, worshiping.
Tracing the swell of her rose-tipped tits, the dip of her stomach, the curve of her thighs.
He plumped her left tit and closed his lips over her crested tip. Sucking and laving it as his other hand flicked her clit, as she writhed under his ministrations.
When she began buckling in wild abandon, he pulled back, staring down at her dilated eyes, flushed cheeks, and dewy skin.
‘You are the most dangerous thing I’ve ever touched, kidaya ,’ he murmured.
‘You’ve no idea, yet you keep touching me, driving me closer to insanity,’ she teased, though her voice shook with desire. ‘ Kidaya ?’
His lips quirked, a dark, knowing smirk.
‘My jeweled love, in my language, Kwavi.’
She blushed, scorched from within.
Without warning, he was on her, over her, between her.
His mouth. His hands. His body.
Worshiping. Tasting. Ruining.