CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | Fiona
If I thought that making each other come would open Dalk up to me more, then I was dead fucking wrong. When I finished handing out food to the other guys and finally sat down to eat with him, my stomach fluttering with nerves, I was met with the same grumpy, glowering man I’d always known. Except maybe with a new edge of possessiveness to him, I guess, considering the fit he threw about me giving food to the other men before him.
We ate in near silence, me with my eyes on my food and Dalk with his sight stars on me, until I couldn’t take it anymore and I finally burst out, “So. Should we talk about it?”
“About what?” he asked, his grip suddenly tightening on the felkora bone he held.
About what? About what?
“About what happened earlier! When I was, erm, healing you.”
Dalk’s sight stars seemed to get sharper.
“What do you wish to say to me about it?”
“Well...” I faltered under the steady slicing of his gaze. “I suppose the first question I have is... Do you want something like that to happen again?”
“Yes,” he answered instantly, his tail thwapping the ground behind him for good measure. His voice grew cautious. “Do you?”
The reality was that, no matter how hard I’d tried to ignore it and push it away, I had one big, huge, planet-sized crush on him. If we were back on Earth with relationship rituals I was actually familiar with, I’d be dying to date him.
The sun had completely set, and the cold air was merciful against the searing in my cheeks as I whispered, “Yes.”
Dalk’s nostrils flared, and he gave an unsteady grunt in reply, as if that was all he could manage. Which, to be fair, was often all he could manage, even at the best of times. But he must have summoned some internal store of strength, because he did cobble together a few words after that, huskily growling, “How about now?”
I snorted, and immediately started casting about for reasons why we couldn’t sneak off to make out right now. Only... I couldn’t think of any. If anything, this was the perfect time. Everyone was milling about together, chatting and eating and generally partying it up post-vaklok. No one was watching and no one would miss us.
Suddenly emboldened and scared that if I thought too long about it I’d inevitably change my mind, I nodded and hopped to my feet. “Let’s go.”
Dalk rose instantly, towering over me.
“Come on.” As natural as breathing, I held out my hand.
He looked at my outstretched palm with confusion. With a hesitating sort of consternation, he tentatively placed the well-chewed felkora bone he’d been holding into my hand.
“Um. Thank you?” I said, gingerly putting the bone down on the tray on the ground. “But that wasn’t actually what I was reaching for.” Before he could reply, I grabbed his hand and intertwined his fingers with mine.
Dalk’s fingers twitched, then suddenly clenched, as if afraid I’d pull away.
And I did pull, but only enough to tug him along with me.
“Come on,” I said again.
And we went.
I thought about returning to the little clearing with the waterfall. It would probably be just gorgeous at night, with the silver star and asteroid light turning the water to churning silver. But it also got cold out here at night, and if I was going to take my clothes off I wanted to be warm enough that I could actually enjoy it.
Ultimately, I decided to go with Dalk back into Gahn Thaleo’s mountain. Nobody was home, so to speak. And based on how much everyone had been enjoying the celebratory atmosphere outside, I thought it would probably be quite a while before any of my roomies returned to the cave we shared.
Dalk followed in dutiful silence, his hand possessive on mine, as I led him through the cave he shared with Oxriel and Zoren and into the one I shared with Tilly. I had a quick glance in the caves beyond – Nasrin’s and the other one that Valeria and Grim occupied – just to make sure nobody had snuck back here without us noticing.
But it was all empty, silent except for the crackling of the fire in the hearth and the sound of Dalk and me breathing.
I felt suddenly shy as I stood facing him. Slowly and deliberately, he began to strip out of his many straps and blades, revealing just a little more of himself with each weapon he let go of. I wasn’t doing much of anything at all — just standing around and awkwardly watching him — but the entire time, his sight stars never left me.
Once he’d put his last blade down on the floor, his claws went to his loincloth but then paused.
“You can take that off, too,” I whispered. His tail twitched in acknowledgement, and he did so. My stomach tightened as his shaft bobbed free, already half-hard, jutting forward in the air with its cock spears on either side. My breath caught as I imagined what it might feel like to have those odd, flexible little spears of flesh sliding across my skin while he thrusted into me.
“Will you remove your garments this time?” he asked, his voice sounding strained.
“I guess that’s only fair,” I murmured. My hands shook as I reached for the zipper on my jacket and pulled it down. I bunched up my jacket then put it aside. Then I kicked off my boots, peeled off my socks, shimmied out of my trousers, and stood shivering before him in my panties and tank top.
“Are you cold?” he asked suddenly, stepping closer to me.
“No.” If anything, I was too hot. I couldn’t figure out why the hell I was so shaky and excited and nervous about doing this. I’d had boyfriends before. I’d even had my fair share of meaningless hook-ups and one-night-stands. Usually, I went into those encounters with an almost flippant sense of enjoyment. Sex was fun and flirty and I had no problem keeping it casual.
But it didn’t feel casual with Dalk. And it scared me to think about why that might be.
I ignored the prickle of worry, trying to get into my old groove. I could be confident and sexy and bold. That was how I usually was, goddamnit!
Forcing my chin up, I hooked my fingers beneath the hem of my tank top and yanked it up and over my head before throwing it aside. Just as swiftly, I pulled down my panties and kicked them away until I was entirely, terrifyingly naked.
Dalk didn’t move. Well, most of him didn’t. He was stone-still everywhere except for his cock, which stiffened immediately to full hardness. Even his sight stars had ceased their usual pulsing and vibrating, like stars frozen in time.
He stared, statue-like, for so long that I started to worry I’d broken him somehow. I fought the urge to cover my chest with my arms, feeling the way my nipples puckered almost painfully under his gaze.
“What... What are you doing?” I asked.
“I am trying to decide,” he said thickly, “where to put my mouth on you first.”
I knew exactly where I was going to put my mouth on him first. His dick twitched, as if it had sensed my innermost thoughts.
“Can I make a suggestion?” I said breathily, heat flooding through me.
His tail flicked, and I tipped my face up further, pointing to my lips.
“Kiss me.”
Tension shuddered through his frame, like he was throwing off some kind of restraints that had held him in place for eons. His claws seized me by the shoulders, then moved inwards, one spanning the base of my throat, the other rising to cup the back of my head. His mouth met mine in a hungry rush, impatient and yet also oddly unhurried, a thorough exploration that made my spine feel like it was melting.
He growled into the kiss, shunting his hips forwards until his erection dug against my belly. I was reaching for it, already desperate to stroke him, when a sudden reorientation of up and down yanked a yelp from my throat. My back hit the fuzzy hides of my bed, and I tried to get my bearings after having been lifted and tossed down so easily and so fast.
My arms and legs were splayed. Dalk stood before me, staring down, the tip of his cock beading with moisture when his sight stars settled between my legs.
“I wanted to taste your cunt this morning,” he said with jaw-dropping bluntness. He fell heavily onto his knees on the bed, bracing himself on his elbows over top of me.
“You... You did?” I gasped as his tongues dipped down to stroke the sensitive edge of my ear. “I thought I was imagining... or just being crazy or...” Words fizzed away, bubbles in a cool drink on a hot day, when Dalk’s mouth got hard and greedy. He sucked along the side of my throat, lighting up every nerve in my body, before he broke away with a ragged moan.
Only to return that sucking mouth to me, but on my nipple this time. I cried out, arching into the fervent suction, writhing as his tongues swirled across my aching peak. His other hand skimmed reverently up my abdomen to claim my left breast. The contrast between his hand and my breast was exquisite, the softness of human flesh giving way beneath that gripping male strength. Wetness built between my legs – I could tell even now, could feel the warm melt of it in secret places – as Dalk’s mouth began its descent between the valley of my breasts and down my belly.
Anticipation buzzed beneath my skin, swooping sparks when Dalk reached my pussy and pulled back to look at me, his hands keeping my trembling thighs apart. His stilted breaths on my wet skin stirred trails of desire.
“Would you stop staring?” I begged, wriggling and clenching, desperate to be touched, licked, fucked, anything.
“Not until I am satisfied,” he growled.
“With what?!”
“With committing you to memory.”
I groaned in complaint, rocking my hips so forcefully that they rose off the bed and my pussy bumped his chin. Now it was his turn to groan, his sight stars exploding into a pulsating mist, his tongues darting eagerly out of his mouth to taste the slick I’d left there.
“So wet,” he said, pressing his nose to the place right above my clit and inhaling hard.
“Yes,” I admitted, frantically grinding my pelvis to try to establish some contact between him and my aching clit. “Because I want you so much.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized just how true they were. This wasn’t just physical need; this was deeper. I didn’t merely want a man, I wanted Dalk. Only him, with all his fierce frowns and callous complaints and gruff growls. I wanted him so badly it briefly burned my insides, left me scorched and made it hard to breathe.
“I want you,” he echoed back at me. “I have wanted you for so long I have forgotten what it’s like not to want you.”
“You have?!” I heaved myself up onto my elbows so I could look down at him. His sight stars captured my gaze above the hills and valleys of my body between us.
Something flashed through that shimmering gaze – anger or hunger or pain – and he said, “It was me, you know. That first day you were here. I was the one who saved you from the zeelk. I was the one who carried you back on my irkdu.”
“You were?” I whispered.
He didn’t look hurt, but he didn’t exactly look happy, either. It was like I’d confirmed his suspicions.
“You do not remember.”
“I remember that day,” I said quickly. How the hell could I not? How could I forget the moment we’d landed in the Zaphrinax desert, only to have zeelk tear our ship apart and kill every single crew member except Chapman? We’d all scattered onto the open sands in pure, animal terror, running this way and that as massive spidery zeelk pursued us with their crab-like claws.
I remembered the way they shrieked, and the horrific way their bodies glinted with impenetrable black armour under a sun that felt nearly as lethal as they were.
I remembered when, mid-stride, I’d stopped and stumbled backwards because a zeelk had erupted right up out of the sand in front of me.
I remembered thinking that I was going to die. To die in this hellish, horrible place where no one would even know I’d gone.
But I didn’t die. Because just as those menacing claws snapped forward to close around my neck, a spear had crashed into the monster’s side, faster than a bullet, killing it instantly.
And then there had been an irkdu, which was its own new alien horror, a mount that felt larger than life spraying sand with dozens of feet as it thundered towards me, driven faster and faster by its fiercely determined rider calling clipped and rapid commands.
That rider... I remembered seeing sight stars for the first time and being shocked by their near-celestial strangeness. So beautiful and so alien.
But I’d barely gotten a glimpse of those eyes, that face, before the man they’d belonged to had hauled me up onto his mount one-handed, his other hand yanking his spear out of the zeelk’s steaming corpse without even slowing the irkdu’s stride. He held me hard and close as he carried me away. Not long after that, I’d succumbed to the trauma and the heat, nearly passing out, turning my senses soupy and my memory of what followed hazy as a dream.
But I knew with instant clarity that what he’d said was true. I studied his face in the quiet cave and it was like I was seeing it for the first time all over again, under that blazing sun, fearsome and foreign and focused entirely on me.
“It was you.” My throat hurt, and the undeniable prick of tears bit at the backs of my eyes. “I remember, Dalk.”
He breathed out slowly. “I think you have been mine, in some way, from that very first day.”
My heart hurt, a pressure building so sharply I feared that everything inside might shatter. We’d been on this planet for almost a year by now. The fact he’d watched me and wanted me nearly for that entire time made me want to...
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I choked out.
“I did not see the point. You were not my mate. I could not have you. But then, at the New Year’s Eve party, you kissed me and...”
“And then I told you it would never happen again.”
There was no stopping the tears now. Goddamnit.
“You are crying!” Dalk looked helplessly lost for a moment, his mouth falling open, the firelight catching on the deadly points of his fangs.
“No I’m not!” I lied pointlessly, salty moisture spilling from my eyes even as I said it.
“I... I am not good at providing comfort,” Dalk said, sounding mildly panicked. But he steeled himself with determination. “But if you tell me what to do, then I will do it to the best of my ability. I was champion of at least one round of the vaklok and I can conquer your human tears just the way I conquered all those other men. You need only tell me how.”
And that was only making me cry harder, this surly idiot promising to fight my tears like they were a dragon to be slain.
“It’s fine!” I sobbed, swiping furiously at my face. Dalk stared, looking entirely unconvinced.
“If you will not tell me what comforts you require,” he growled, “then I will just have to distract you instead.”
Before I could tearily ask what he had in mind, his head descended, and he unleashed his tongues against my pussy.
Well. As far as distractions went, that was a pretty fucking good one.
I gave a stilted gasp, pleasure and arousal rocketing through me as Dalk squeezed my thighs and devoured me.
What he lacked in knowledge of human anatomy, he made up for with sheer fucking gusto. There was no hesitation, no pulling back, no indication that any texture or scent or taste he found wasn’t exactly what he fucking craved. He groaned viciously as he drank down wetness, and I felt his entire frame shudder violently when all three of his tongues dipped experimentally inside me, only to shove all the way in one agonized heartbeat later.
I moaned, my fingers flying to his head, burying themselves in his thick, soft hair. The band he’d tied around its newly shorn length fell away, the bitten-off black strands cascading down to brush my inner thighs in tantalizing whisps. My eyes squeezed shut as Dalk’s three tongues – previously entering into me as one thick, synchronized entity – slowly spread apart and swirled inside.
It was too much, but in the best possible way. His tongues together were nearly as thick and as long as a human cock, filling me so sweetly. And now, having all the tendrils come apart and stroke me in different ways, in different places...
It made me feel like I was falling apart.
I was crying in a new way now, not with tears but with shocking feral sounds, my voice rising and falling in keening waves that I’d never heard come out of myself before.
I wondered what kinds of sounds I’d make when he fucked me.
That thought sent my desire higher than ever before. My orgasm was closing in on me, my eyes rolling back in my head and my pussy convulsing on Dalk’s tongues. In the midst of the rapidly rising pleasure, I was dimly aware of Dalk whipping one of his hands away from my thigh and furiously fisting himself, jerking his cock with demanding strokes.
“Don’t come yet,” I managed to moan even while my own orgasm crested like a glittering wave between my legs. “I want you to come in my mouth.”
Dalk released his cock with a ruthless sound in his throat, returning his iron grip to my thigh and continuing to rut me relentlessly with his tongues. My hand slipped between my legs, circling my swollen clit only twice before my orgasm broke open like a Vrika’s egg and doused my entire body in its glowing blood. Dalk growled in savage satisfaction as I clamped down on him, writhing and wriggling, every part of me locking tight and relaxing into spastic quivers.
Even when it became too much to bear, and I started pushing weakly against his head, he seemed unwilling to pull his tongues out of me. He licked inside me over and over again, still hungrily rubbing the surfaces of his three tongues along every dip and frill of my pulsing channel even as he pulled them regretfully out.
My muscles wobbly, I got myself back up onto my elbows again. As if seeing that I wasn’t quite able to move my trembling body any further than that, Dalk got up onto his knees, grasped my upper arms, and helped me sit all the way up. When he released me, he looked at his fingers with a muted sort of curiosity. He rubbed his thumbs against the tips of his fingers, as if testing their surfaces.
“How do you do it?” he asked. “Make the images stay on your skin like that?”
“How do you know I wasn’t born with them?”
He looked astonished by this possibility, his sight stars expanding.
“Were you?” he asked. “Why does no one else have them?”
“I’m just kidding,” I panted. My breathing hadn’t returned to anything close to normal yet. “You use a needle dipped in ink. You pierce the skin and let the ink get in and it stays. You do it over and over again until a picture forms.”
He frowned. “Does that not hurt?”
“It does. Though some places are worse than others.”
“It seems a shame,” he said, running his fingertips over a vine that snaked from my left shoulder to my collarbone.
“Why?”
“It’s a shame that you must hurt for all that beauty.” He paused, pressing gently against my collarbone, as if relishing the sensation of feeling that shelf of bone beneath my thin human skin. “But perhaps, in a way, it makes sense.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sometimes your beauty hurts me too.”
If he kept this shit up I was going to start crying again. And that was the last thing I wanted to do, with this man looking at me like I was prettier and more mysterious than anything he’d ever seen, his cock thick and hard and dripping for me.
I got up onto my knees, facing him and mirroring his pose, then placed my hands upon his shoulders.
“Sit down,” I whispered.
“Like a good boy?” he asked, and I laughed, expecting some opposition, but there was none. He eased down onto his ass, and I crawled between his spread thighs, bending until my mouth hovered just above the smooth, glistening tip of his cock. I blew on it gently, and felt a curling pang of arousal when I saw his abs tighten and his balls draw up tight in response. More moisture beaded, dribbling from a dark slit, and his breath, unsteady and loud up until that moment, ceased entirely when my tongue darted out and licked that moisture from his heated skin.
It was more pleasant than the taste of human semen. It made me think of salt and sand and the scent of warm, dry wind whipping across leather. When more seed pushed out of his slit, weeping his arousal, I licked it instantly away. And then, with his sight stars hooking all the way inside me, I bent my head and took him deep into my mouth.