Chapter 18
Talia didn’t want any more talking about technique or reference data or objective performance metrics. Just her hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him down, her mouth finding his with desperate certainty.
He made a sound low in his throat—surprise and pleasure combined—and then he was kissing her back, one hand threading through her hair while the other tightened on her hip.
Better, she thought dimly. This is better.
This was need and hunger and days of building tension finally breaking free.
He tasted like winter and something darker. His lips were firm but not harsh, learning her responses with the same focused attention he brought to everything. When she gasped against his mouth, he adjusted immediately, deepening the kiss with devastating precision.
He learns fast.
Her back hit the workbench. Tools clattered. The deer fell somewhere with a wooden thunk.
"Talia,” he said roughly. "Tell me to stop if this is unwanted."
"Don't you dare stop."
His mouth found her neck, trailing heat down to her collarbone. Her head fell back, her hands gripping his shoulders for balance. Through layers of fabric she could feel the play of muscle, the barely restrained strength.
"I have been thinking about this," he murmured against her skin. "About touching you. Learning what gives you pleasure."
"That's definitely giving me pleasure."
His hands traced her sides, careful despite his obvious hunger, like he was afraid of breaking her.
"You won't hurt me." She pulled back enough to meet his eyes. "I'm not that fragile."
"You are—" He stopped, something shifting in his expression. "You are precious. I do not want to cause harm through lack of control."
The word 'precious' did something to her chest that made it hard to breathe.
"I trust you."
"You should not." But his hands tightened on her waist. "I am Tandroki. We adopted Moroz’s teachings because we were violent predators. My instincts—"
"You have been gentle with me, with Theo, with Nimbus. You are careful with delicate mechanisms. I am not worried about your instincts."
"With you, my control is compromised."
"Good." She kissed him again, fierce and demanding. "I don't want your control. I want you."
He made that sound again, deeper this time. His hands slid under her shirt, reverently tracing the bare skin, but then he hesitated.
“Talia, you must remember that I am leaving."
The reminder felt like a splash of icy water. She forced herself to pull back, to meet his eyes in the lamplight.
"I know."
"I will repair my ship and return to space. This cannot be—" He stopped, his jaw clenching. "A permanent attachment would be illogical given my inevitable departure."
"I know," she said again, and she did know. She’d known from the start that he was temporary. A gift she'd been given for a short while, not something she could keep.
But I can have this. Right now. Even if it hurts later.
"I don't care."
He studied her face. "You should care. An emotional attachment that cannot be maintained creates unnecessary suffering."
"Klaus." She cupped his face, feeling the sharp angles, the smooth skin.
"I'm going to suffer when you leave whether we do this or not.
I'm already attached, already falling for you.
" The confession emerged with unexpected ease.
"So I can spend our remaining time being careful and distant, protecting myself from inevitable pain.
Or I can have this. Have you. For as long as you're here. "
"That is illogical."
"Probably." She smiled despite the ache in her chest. "But I'm human. We're really good at doing illogical things that feel right."
"And this feels right to you? Despite guaranteed future suffering?"
"Yes." No hesitation. "It does."
He was quiet for a long moment, his hands still on her waist, his eyes searching her face. Outside, snow fell in thick silence, wrapping them in white isolation.
"I do not want to hurt you."
"You will," she said gently. "When you leave, it's going to hurt. But I'm choosing that pain. Choosing this time with you even knowing how it ends."
"Why?"
"Because you make me feel strong. Because working with you has reminded me I'm capable of more than I thought.
Because Theo smiles more and I laugh more and for the first time since Sarah died, I feel like I might actually be okay.
" Tears threatened but she blinked them back.
"And because when you leave, I want to have these memories, not regrets about what I was too scared to reach for. "
His expression shifted through emotions she was learning to recognize – confusion, understanding, desire. And something that looked dangerously close to pain.
"I do not deserve your generosity."
"Yes you do."
"I am leaving you."
"I know."
"I will cause you suffering."
"I'll survive." She pulled him closer. "I'm tougher than I look."
"You are the strongest person I have encountered." He said it with absolute certainty. "And I am selfish enough to want this despite knowing the consequences."
"Then be selfish with me."
He kissed her answer, deep and hungry and thorough, while his hands mapped her body, learning her curves with the same focused attention he brought to everything he did.
She let herself drown in sensation, in the heat of his mouth and the strength of his hands.
In the careful control that somehow made everything more intense.
This is what I want, even if it's temporary.
They shed clothes between kisses. Her shirt fell somewhere, and his followed, revealing pale skin and carved muscle.
Beautiful, she thought. He's beautiful.
Her hands traced his chest, following the defined rides of his muscles, and feeling him shudder under her touch.
"Talia." His voice was ragged. "Are you certain?"
"Completely."
"I have limited experience with human physiology. My technique may be—"
She kissed him to stop the analysis. "You'll figure it out. You always do."
His laugh was breathless. "Empirical research."
"Exactly."
They made it to the floor, the cold boards softened by scattered work rags and her discarded coat. It wasn’t romantic by any measure. The workshop was cold despite the small stove and snow drummed against the windows. Half-finished toys watched from the workbench like wooden witnesses.
But when he settled over her, his weight overwhelming and perfect, she couldn't imagine anywhere else she'd rather be.
"Tell me if I cause you discomfort." His hands framed her face. "Your welfare is my priority."
"Less talking." She pulled him down. "More empirical research."
He smiled against her mouth—a real smile, rare and precious. "As you wish."
He took his time, finding sensitive places she'd half-forgotten existed. His mouth followed, leaving heat trails that made her gasp.
"There?" He repeated the touch, watching her response. "Or here?"
"Both." She arched into him. "Definitely both."
He catalogued her reactions with a single-minded focus that would have been clinical if not for the hunger in his eyes.
"You taste like apples and something sweeter here," he said against her neck. "I want to learn every flavor."
"Yes," she gasped as his mouth drifted lower, and he wrapped that long, agile tongue around a stiff peak, tugging gently at first then more firmly as she arched against him. She should have been embarrassed, but instead she felt powerful, desired, seen in a way she'd never experienced.
He added a gentle scrape of his teeth, sending excitement streaking straight to her swollen clit and she cried out.
Her hands automatically went to his head and her hands closed around the base of his horns.
He growled, actually growled, against her breast, the vibration adding to her excitement before he raised his head.
Blue flames burned in his eyes and his face was a barely controlled mask.
When he spoke, his voice was impossibly deep and rough.
"I am afraid if you touch my horns again, I will forget myself."
"Good," she gasped. "I want you wild."
Instead of answering, he lowered his head and tugged at her other nipple while one of his big hands traveled up her inner thigh, learning her shape and texture before his long fingers found her slick core. He circled her clit with devastating precision, driving her ever higher.
"Tell me what you need," he demanded, but it didn't sound like a question. It sounded like a challenge.
"You," she panted. "Just you."
He seemed to accept this, as he gently bit the stiff tip of her breast while a single long finger slid inside her. "More?" he asked.
"God, yes," she demanded and he complied, slowly sliding a second finger into her clenching core as his thumb caressed her clit.
His fingers worked with the same focused attention he brought to delicate mechanisms, and the comparison should have been absurd but instead just made everything more intense.
"You are beautiful like this," he said, his voice brought with desire. "Responding to my touch."
She couldn't form words anymore. She could only feel—his hands, his mouth, the building pressure that threatened to shatter her.
"Let go." He increased the pressure fractionally. "I want to watch you."
The command pushed her over the edge, and she came apart under his hands, pleasure rolling through her in waves that left her gasping. He watched her the entire time, his expression shifting through wonder and satisfaction and barely restrained hunger.
"Magnificent." He kissed her gently, reverently. "You are magnificent."
She laughed breathlessly. "Give me a second and we'll see how magnificent you find yourself."
"That is unnecessary. Your pleasure is sufficient."
"Nonsense." She pushed at his chest. "On your back."
He obeyed with gratifying speed, and she straddled him, taking a moment to appreciate the view. All that pale skin and carved muscle. The careful control starting to fracture. The hunger in his eyes that he could no longer quite hide.
"My turn for empirical research."
She kissed her way down his chest, mapping scars and ridges, learning the texture of his skin against her tongue. His breathing roughened. His hands fisted in the coat beneath him.
"Talia."
"Hmm?" She traced the defined lines of his abdomen with his mouth. "Finding something interesting?"
"Your mouth is—" He stopped on a gasp as she went lower. "That is—"
"Good?"
"Exceptional." The word came out strangled. "You are going to—I am losing—"
She wrapped her hands around his enormous cock, learning the weight and heat of him. and he made a sound she'd never heard before, something between a groan and her name. Tightening her grip, she swiped her tongue across the broad head and his whole body shuddered.
"Stop." He caught her shoulders with careful hands, trying to pull her up. "I will not be able to—"
"Good. Tell me what you like." She took him in her mouth and he shuddered again. His control fractured beautifully as his hands found her hair, not directing but anchoring. His hips moved in careful rhythm.
"Tighter. Yes. Like—" He lost words as she adjusted her grip. "Talia. I am going to… You should—"
"I know," she murmured against his shaft. "I want you to."
He came apart with devastating totality, exploding into her mouth in hot, delicious pulses.
All that careful control shattered into gasps and her name and fingers tightening in her hair, making her feel powerful in a way that had nothing to do with physical strength.
She'd done this. Brought this alien warrior to pieces with just her hands and her mouth.
When his shudders finally stopped, she raised her head and smiled at him.
"That was—" He stopped, breathing hard. "I lack adequate vocabulary."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
He pulled her up his body, kissing her with devastating thoroughness. "You are remarkable. And I want—" He stopped, something shifting in his expression. "I want everything with you."
"Then take it."