Chapter 22 #2
"And you just happen to know where the back door is?"
"Occasionally, when I was younger, I would need a place to recover, discretely, from my wilder escapades. Many of us Gol-Vetts have stayed here when needed."
"In exchange for what?"
Stron shrugged. "Mostly, just sharing any interesting gossip we heard or saw."
"So you spied in the clubs for him." She shook her head. "Not that different than me, after all, are you, Stron?"
"I'm very different from you. My skin is red. I have horns."
She rolled her eyes and took a few more bites. "So how long until we need to go meet the others?"
"Dhomhes said it would take a couple of hours to get everything ready both on the dark side and with the other off-worlders here." He glanced at her. "If you're tired, you can get some rest."
She twirled a strand of her curls that had fallen down around her finger. Exhaled a breath. "This chaos is all because of me, you know."
"It's not all because of you."
She raised an eyebrow. "The fact that a crime family who is under investigation has tried to end my life by sabotaging an entire government program says it's very much my fault, Stron."
He put his arm around her.
And damn if it wasn't comforting. She leaned into him, surprised at how natural it felt to be so close to him.
To anyone.
"It's not your fault, Adryel. You didn't choose this. You just wanted to get away from Kerde. From all of it. You came here for a new lease on existence."
"True enough," she said.
His embrace felt comfortable. Maybe too comfortable.
"Why did you kiss me?"
"For cover," he said after a moment.
"You could have pulled me against you, done really anything, but you didn't have to kiss me."
"It marked you, to the others. Made sure that everyone there knew you were mine." His tone shifted when he said the last word. More defined. Almost primal sounding. Then his voice shifted back. "For your safety, is all."
She nodded. She didn't buy this. Not a bit. It felt too real at the time, and even now, she could still feel the touch between them. More than what he said.
Initially, she'd thought maybe she'd been overthinking it, or generally seeing it as something more than it was, but his denial seemed too forced.
"You felt something," she said.
"I felt you against me, yes," he replied. His voice kept shifting as he spoke.
She turned so she could better see the side of his face. "You find me attractive?"
"Yes."
She didn't have an answer. She wasn't sure what he'd say — what she expected. Not a straight answer, anyway.
She watched the way his expression shifted. This close, in this light, she could see the way his muscles shifted under his skin. The way he swallowed.
He met her gaze. "Are you wanting more from this relationship?"
"You're the one looking for a mate."
"Have I found one?" he asked.
She shifted so she was face to face with him. "Maybe we should see."
This time when he kissed her, it wasn't because he was trying to protect her or mark her or whatever he said.
Okay, maybe he was trying to mark her for real, because it was hot. Intense and surreal. Their kiss was magnetic.
His lips crushed hers almost immediately, and the taste of him was powerful. It engulfed her and she grabbed onto his shoulders as they kissed. He pulled her onto his lap, and she straddled him as they kissed.
His lips went over her neck and along her jaw, making her cry out with the touch. How intense he was!
As he kissed her, she rocked her hips into his and could feel how hard he was growing beneath her. It intoxicated her to know that she had that effect on him, that he was responding so strongly to her.
She could feel how ready he was, the press of him against her impossible to ignore, and the knowledge that she'd done that to him sent heat pooling through her center.
His hands roamed over her back, firm but exploring. His hand kept roaming up and down her spine. Where there wasn't any armor bone sticking out.
She pulled away and kissed his neck. "Feels weird, huh?"
"Delicate. Makes you feel delicate." He pulled away. "Turn around," he whispered.
She put her back to him, still on his lap.
He stroked her back, up and down. His fingers found the clasps of the top and he had it open in a few deft movements. She gasped as he pulled it free, and her hand went to her ribs without thinking — that old reflex, reaching for the ridge that wasn't there anymore. Nothing. Just her own skin.
He didn't pull her undershirt off, just opened the back, so he could see her skin.
His fingers were warm as they slid up her side, across her waist to her spine.
"It's so smooth," he said. His fingers trailed up the center, sending shivers over her — the good kind, of course.
He brushed her hair to the side, and she grabbed the bundle and pulled it out of his way.
"They're here too."
"What's there?" she asked.
"Your little dots. They cover you." His hands hesitated on her shoulder blades.
She started to pull away, having always been a little self-conscious about them, especially those on her body. Her face, she could handle. The ones on her body never got good reviews from partners. "Yeah, that's just the way it is," she said.
He didn't say anything.
She was about to turn when she felt it.
A kiss.
He leaned in and she felt the pendant graze her skin — that ornate edge of it, warm from his body. She recognized it without looking. It was there. He had it. She exhaled and let herself be present.
"They're beautiful," he whispered, between kisses. "They're like little secret gems." His kisses pressed all over her back, and each one tantalized her more, raising her already growing desires. She arched as he kissed her and he wrapped an arm around her, holding her steady.
She turned and glanced at him, and met his gaze. The horns on the sides of his head sort of framed their faces, and she pulled him into a kiss.
She twisted into him as they kissed, and in a moment, she was back facing him again, her shirt barely hanging on her.
"You don't need that," he said, and pulled the rest of her shirt off.
She sat there for a moment as his hands, more calloused than she would have expected, ran over her skin, tracing the patterns of the freckles down the front of her body.
She leaned into him and tugged at his shirt. "I seem to be at a disadvantage."
"It seems so."
In a moment, he'd pulled off his shirt, and they embraced, kissing each other even more, and exploring each other's bare chests.
His skin was warm and textured. Not quite smooth, but not rough, exactly. There was just a slightly different feel to it. The only thing he wore on his upper body was that necklace with the crest on it.
He pulled her tight against him and the friction of his skin against hers was delightful. His body responded to hers in all the right ways.
They both explored each other, and with each touch, she felt herself getting more and more antsy, waiting for the final act.
Even his armor seemed to be growing.
He slid his hand in her hair, his hips rocking into hers, and he grabbed the back of her hair, pulling her head back, and exposing her neck.
"I want you," he grumbled against her neck. "More than I've wanted anyone before. And if—"
She didn't let him finish his thought, because she damn sure wasn't going to stop anything now. "So take me."
Stron didn't hesitate.
He had her flat on the couch, and had his own clothing gone in an instant.
Still wearing her dress from earlier, he shoved the layers up, revealing her hips, his hands warm and certain against her skin.
He explored her with his hands first, and she moaned at the contact, her hips rolling toward him without her permission.
That was new. She didn't usually lose that kind of control.
But she wasn't thinking about that when he entered her.
She gasped at the stretch of him, the sensation tipping between pleasure and the shock of his size. "Wow," she managed.
"Are you—"
"Shut up and kiss me," she said.
So he did. And then he started to move.
She'd expected to stay somewhat inside her own head.
She always did. It was safer there, behind the glass, watching.
Instead she found herself completely in her body, in this moment, in him.
Every movement pulled sounds from her she hadn't planned on making.
He groaned against her neck with every thrust, like she was doing something to him he hadn't planned on either.
Good. They could be surprised together.
His horns scraped against her cheek as he moved, hard and warm, and somehow that contrast — that specific alien detail of him — undid her faster than anything else.
His pace built steadily, and she climbed with it, her fingers gripping him, her whole body focused on nothing but this.
And then he gasped, his whole body shuddering against hers, and she felt it — a swelling pressure where they were joined, holding them together, impossible to ignore.
She went still.
She knew what this was. It had been in the cultural classes, clinical language wrapped around something that didn't feel clinical at all right now.
Knotting. A biological response. Only with a mate.
Only ever with a mate.
And then she felt something else. The armor along his shoulders and arms extending, pressing warm and certain against her skin. Not a threat. Not a fight response. Something else entirely. Something that had no other name but claim.
"Stron—"
"I know," he said, his voice wrecked.
They stayed like that for a moment, breathing.
"The biology knows," he finally said. He let out a few shaky breaths. “I’m going to kill Khalzin.”
“Why?”
“Because he just ruined my life,” Stron whispered.
She raised her hand to slap him, but he met her gaze.
“He ruined it, in the best possible way,” he leaned down and kissed her.
“I feel like I should be mad at you.”
“I believe you’ll be mad at me a lot, my mate.”
She tipped her head back and laughed.