Chapter 14 Nova
NOVA
The world is quiet when I wake.
Just the low hum of the station and the even rhythm of his breathing behind me.
Kaz is still asleep. One arm slung across my waist, fingers splayed like he's anchoring himself to reality. His chest rises and falls against my back, slow and warm. I can feel the shape of him—heat, skin, the scrape of stubble on my shoulder when he shifted in the night.
This is dangerous.
And gods, it feels good.
I let myself stay in it for a moment.
Eyes closed. Breathing synced. Pretending the world outside this room doesn’t exist. That I’m not a decorated pilot, an instructor, a woman with rules etched into her bones. That he’s not my student, my recklessness, my soft landing and my nosedive all in one.
His thumb brushes absently over my stomach in his sleep, and I almost forget to breathe.
It’s not just the sex.
That’s what makes this worse.
It’s the way he touched me—like I was a constellation he was charting from memory. Like he’d dreamed of every curve and freckle and finally got to make contact. Reverent. Unhurried. Knowing.
No one’s ever looked at me like that.
Not like I’m a risk worth taking.
He shifts behind me, and I feel it again—his cock, half-hard and heavy against my lower back.
Even in sleep, his body aches for mine. And gods help me, mine responds just as instinctively.
My thighs press together. My breath catches.
Every place he touched last night is still humming with sensation.
“Kaz…” I whisper, a warning and a wish.
He stirs again. His nose nudges the back of my neck, then his lips—barely there. A soft press that sends sparks down my spine.
“You’re warm,” he mumbles, sleep-thick and deep-voiced.
“I should move.”
“Don’t.”
His arm curls around my waist, drawing me tighter against him. I can feel the ridges of his scaled skin against my back, smooth and hot and alive. One of his fingers lazily traces the dip of my navel, his touch drifting lower.
“Kaz,” I murmur again, more breath this time than protest.
His voice is rough, low. “I just want to feel you.”
And he does.
His hand slips lower, under the hem of my robe, finding the slick between my legs with an ease that makes me gasp.
His fingers are thicker than a human’s, ridged with slight grooves like molten gold carved into his skin.
When he presses one against my pussy, I shudder and spread my thighs without thinking.
“You’re already wet for me,” he says, tone reverent. “Fuck, Nova…”
He shifts behind me, cock fully hard now, pressing insistently against my ass. I can feel the weight of it, thick and pulsing. He grinds slowly against me, one hand stroking my clit in lazy, knowing circles while the other anchors me against his chest.
I arch into him.
His mouth finds my shoulder. Then my neck. He bites, just enough to make me moan.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs against my skin. “And I will.”
I don’t say a word.
Because I don’t want him to stop.
Instead, I reach behind me and grab his hip, pulling him closer.
“Please,” I whisper. “Kaz…”
He growls low, the sound rumbling through his chest like thunder. Then he’s moving, rolling me onto my back, covering me with that massive, golden body. His scales shimmer in the dim light, blue eyes dark with heat and something else—something dangerously close to devotion.
“You’re so small,” he breathes, eyes drinking me in. “So fucking perfect.”
I open for him, letting his hand slide between us again. He strokes me slowly, fingers slick with my arousal.
Then one thick finger presses inside.
I gasp, grabbing his shoulders. He watches me, eyes locked to mine as he slides deeper.
“You’re tight,” he groans. “So fucking tight around me.”
I bite my lip, hips lifting to meet his rhythm. He adds a second finger, curling inside until I cry out.
“Fuck—Kaz—”
His mouth is on my breast in an instant, tongue laving over the nipple before he sucks gently, then bites. I arch, nails digging into the hard planes of his back. He’s so big, so solid above me, and I feel both small and indestructible at once.
“I need you,” I pant. “Now.”
He growls again, pulling back just enough to line up. His cock is thick—thicker than I remembered—and glistening at the tip. The head brushes my entrance, and we both groan.
“Look at me,” he says, voice rough.
I do.
He pushes in.
The stretch is unreal. My body clenches around him, trembling with the effort to take him all. Inch by inch, he sinks into me, watching every second like it’s sacred.
“Fuck,” I gasp, gripping his arms. “You’re huge.”
“You’re taking me,” he whispers. “So fucking good, Nova.”
When he’s fully seated inside me, he stills. My legs wrap around his waist, thighs trembling. We breathe together. Hearts thudding. Bodies joined.
Then he starts to move.
Slow thrusts, deep and deliberate. His cock drags against every sensitive inch inside me, and I feel each ridge of him like he’s sculpted to fit me. I cry out, hands tangled in his hair, pulling him down to kiss me.
“Don’t stop,” I beg. “Please…”
He doesn’t.
He fucks me like he’s worshipping me. Like he’s learning me by touch and sound and breath. His lips find mine over and over. His hand presses against my lower belly, feeling where he fills me, where I stretch for him.
“You feel it?” he whispers.
I nod, dazed. “Yes. Gods, yes.”
“I’ll never get enough of you,” he says, pounding harder now. “Never.”
Our rhythm builds. My back arches. My nails rake his shoulders. Every nerve is on fire. His hips slam against mine with each thrust, and I feel myself spiraling higher.
“I’m gonna come,” I cry out. “Kaz—I’m—”
He kisses me, stealing the sound, his cock slamming deep one last time as I break apart beneath him. My pussy clenches around him in waves, and he groans, grabbing my ass and pulling me tight as he comes inside me.
Heat floods me.
His body shudders, growling into my neck as he spends himself.
When it’s over, we collapse together. Breathing hard. Slick with sweat. Still connected.
He brushes my hair from my face. “You okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. Are you?”
He smiles, that cocky, tired smile that somehow makes my heart ache. “Yeah. Just not sure I can stand up.”
We lie in silence, the thrum of the engines outside soft against the walls. My body aches, beautifully. His fingers trace idle patterns along my ribs.
And I know this isn’t over.
This was never just sex.