Chapter 24
Jolene
Arriving at Haven after that big fight actually felt a bit like coming home.
This time home was a small town that came out in force to greet everyone like they were long-lost brothers.
There was cheering, hugging, and eager greetings.
In no time, my girls were all dragged inside to be shown rooms and given clothing.
Medical checkups awaited them, run by Vera and Farah—one nursing a baby, the other clearly pregnant.
I saw Haven’s med bay only briefly, though it was instinct to linger there and help out.
Hunters injured in the fight were recuperating inside, but most were already up and about, having healed quickly overnight.
There weren’t enough fixed apartments for everyone, so the ladies had to sleep four to a room, but I was certain that was still a great improvement for them.
They were safe, and most were smiling and looking healthy and happy, beginning to believe the worst was over.
Then Nisha and her brothers dove out of the crowd, screaming excitedly in greeting.
They leaped on their father, then there were hugs for me, and I knew this was definitely home—with this man, this Naga male, and his sweet younglings.
My girls were safe, so my job was done. Now I could focus on the next one: making my brand-new family happy.
“I don’t see your coat,” I said to Nisha, reaching out to tug on a messy black braid with a smile.
“Too warm in here for a tough Naga girl, is it?” Then I pretended to shiver with cold myself, and her guilty expression turned into a laugh.
I was a little tired and sore from yesterday’s excitement and the dragon ride back here, but I still picked her up and hugged her.
Khawla was hunched low, whispering with his boys, looking like they were telling him all kinds of secrets.
When he rose, his eye met mine, the amethyst gleaming beneath the crystal lights of Haven’s main tunnel.
Wind was gusting in through the large open portal to the outside world, making his long, dark braid sway over his shoulder.
He looked handsome—and he was all mine. The sultry, heat-filled stare he gave me told me he was thinking the same thing about me.
There was a promise there, for later, when we were alone in our rooms. First, though, there was a celebration.
Food from Naomi that almost approached Earth flavors made some of the Naga hunters wrinkle their noses.
A potent alcoholic drink, called Abseal, was made by some known as Iave, Zathar’s midnight shadow.
And there was a lot of laughter, singing, and dancing—the last especially interesting when it came to seeing couples with tails and legs mingle.
It was often more of a swaying in place, but it worked.
I hugged Jasmine goodnight at some point during the evening; she’d been quiet and pensive rather than festive, like most. Eva was actually bright-eyed and happy, catered to by at least three different single hunters.
I helped Khawla tuck his utterly knackered but happy children into bed, smiling when even Rasho wanted that goodnight kiss I was offering.
And then, finally, Khawla swept me into our own bedroom and to the nest waiting for us.
“This word,” Khawla said, “love. It is not something we say to our mate, but I am flexible. I have learned I like it very much. I love you, daring, bold, loyal Jolene. Always, my mate.” I wanted to say it back to him, but he did not give me the chance, rolling us into the nest, his mouth on mine, his kiss all predatory marauder.
I was okay with that too; I’d tell him I loved him after he’d made love to me.
It had been the boldest, craziest gamble to sleep with him that very first time, driven by attraction but even more by the enticing, aphrodisiac taste of his seed spilling into that pool.
Then we’d rediscovered one another much more gently under Artek’s roof.
Tangling with him here, in what was going to be our bedroom for a long while, that was the best. I’d had a taste, and I wanted more.
Clawing along his shoulders only incited him to get rougher, more demanding.
My nails could not do any harm to his tough scales, but he seemed to go wild from the pressure.
I’d worry about his ribs and the deep cut he’d suffered, but two rounds with a healing device had him moving completely unhindered.
Then, any ability to think of consequences, injuries, or the future fled my mind.
Khawla’s tongue delved deep, then curled and tugged on mine, and an answering pulse of pleasure echoed between my thighs.
He was barely dressed, but I had on far too many layers.
In the drafty hallway outside our rooms, that was barely enough, but now I felt like I was on fire.
Sweat was beading on my forehead and trickling down my spine.
Khawla took care of that before I could try to find my voice, his hands dragging my fur tunic over my head along with all the underthings I wore beneath it.
Shimmying out of my pants took a minute, mostly because Khawla kept coiling his tail between my thighs and rubbing me in the most distracting fashion.
“Naked,” I muttered as I kicked my leg, panties still dangling around one ankle.
“I need you,” I sighed, and thankfully, I didn’t need to say more.
My Naga was often stern-faced and a man of few words, but his actions spoke loud and clear.
Lifting my thigh, he parted my legs and nestled himself between them, his cock rising fiercely from his body.
The tips writhed and dripped with precum, spreading a delicious sweet-and-salty scent in the air.
It made my mouth water, but I was not ready to go down that road just yet.
My body would hate me for it, even if the prospect of that much sex and pleasure was very tempting.
We’d have more time for that, plenty more time.
Tonight, I just wanted to feel alive in his arms, then sleep for twelve hours.
“I will seed you, Jolene,” Khawla growled, his hand around his cock as he lined up the twisting, curling head of his cock with my opening.
“I will fill your belly,” he added, his palm curling over my abdomen, warm and slightly rough.
Everything in me ached with ready tension, and I only had to cant my hips, nudging against his cock to get him to slide in.
He sank deep on the first thrust, then pulled back and did it again with delicious friction.
My heels dug into his hips, my body slid across the furs with the force of his movements, and my nails dug into his scales where I clutched him tight.
The angle of his cock, the brush of his pelvis against my folds, the deep stretch of his thick length—it was all too much.
Soon, I was spiraling, then tumbling off the cliff, my body grasping tightly around his cock until he groaned, thrusts slowing but not stopping.
I felt him twitch, the split tip of his cock moving inside me, rubbing, stroking.
It felt like a second orgasm came right on the heels of the first.
That was too much for him, too; his thrust grew rough—deep but erratic.
His tail curled around me, pressing against my clit until stars exploded across my vision.
I tried to hold back the shout that wanted to escape my throat, and a muffled “Khawla” came out instead.
Then I felt his seed—hot, a lot of it—gush from the tips of his cock, filling me, seeding me.
I liked that he called it that; it made it sound so primal, so wild.
When the last shudder and twitch of his cock ended, he did not withdraw but curled himself tightly around me and gathered me close, keeping us locked together, bound physically as well as emotionally.
In his arms, I was safe, and I was loved.
With his family, I’d found home. Did I feel regret for not being able to help my kids back on Earth any longer?
Sure. But in a way—selfishly—I was glad they could no longer be my responsibility. Too much heartache.
I’d done my job, I’d rescued my girls, Khawla had saved his kids, and now we were both free to enjoy our future.
Together. I couldn’t wait. “I love you, Khawla,” I whispered in the dark, and his arms grew a little tighter around me, his amethyst eye glittering brightly.
And that love his people didn’t express for their partner, I saw it there, loud and clear.