Chapter 6
Chapter Six
ROMI
Every time I walk into the stables now, I think about Thorne and the way it feels to be near him.
Moments later, I stride into the supply room, where Thorne lit my body on fire with a kiss.
There’s no reason for me to think he will be here.
Yet disappointment shoots through me when he’s not.
I swallow through the burst of emotion that rises.
I don’t need to be sad about not seeing an alien cowboy who kissed me.
Even if I had never imagined feeling like that. Even if we have the infinity pulse.
Fortunately, I love my job, so I lose myself in work.
I spend time training Fury and checking on the horses from Earth before shifting my attention to the other horses.
If you’d told me on Earth that horses from there would mate with what were once dragons from here, I’d have laughed.
They look mostly like horses now, but their fur shimmers in colors, and their wings are almost feathered in a more leathery way.
They are intense and powerful. I’ve ridden a few of them, but I’ve yet to fly.
“Someday,” I whisper to one of the female horses. Her name is Sasha. She’s young and spunky. The elderly woman who runs the stables has told me Sasha hasn’t been trained yet.
A while later, I’m preparing the evening feedings for the young girl who comes out to handle those after I leave when awareness prickles up my spine. The hairs rise on the back of my neck, and my entire body vibrates in anticipation. Without seeing him, I know Thorne is here.
I try to order my pulse to slow, but it ignores me, dashing off at a breakneck pace, my heart beating so fast my breath is shallow. I hear footsteps coming down the walkway between the stalls. They rarely keep the animals inside here, but they all have places to rest.
“Romi.”
Thorne’s voice reaches me, echoing through my body like the reverberations from the ring of a bell. I turn to find him standing in the doorway, his shoulder propped against the frame.
His golden gaze locks with mine, and I could swear a flame licks through the air between us.
When his eyes sweep up and down my body, I feel the heat of his fiery gaze in my belly.
I shift restlessly on my feet, feeling the arousal slippery between my thighs.
I’m not familiar with this sensation, and it’s intense.
“Hi.” My voice comes out breathless.
I mentally chastise myself. Don’t be silly. Get a grip.
Thorne pushes away from the door and steps into the room, closing it behind him.
The click of the latch echoes in the quiet space.
I take a shallow breath, my senses absorbing the scents of this room—leather, hay, and grain, the familiar scent of horses.
Dust moats float in the air, illuminated by the sunlight casting at an angle through the windows high on the wall.
“I was hoping I’d see you today.” I can feel the low rumble of Thorne’s voice in my body. He takes a step closer, his eyes never once breaking from mine.
“I’m here almost every day,” I rasp.
He closes the distance between us in two strides, and my hips bump against a wooden counter that runs the length of the wall.
“A week,” he says simply.
I can only nod because I don’t trust myself to speak.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks.
My head bobs in another nod as I blink. His presence is an electric force as he stops immediately in front of me.
His touch is light when he lifts his hand to palm my cheek.
There’s a gentle quality to it, yet his strength feels as if it surrounds me.
The voltage of our connection shimmers around us.
I study him, taking in the bronze shimmer of his skin, which isn’t quite scaled but almost looks as if it is.
His presence is so powerful. It feels as if he is encompassing me.
His golden eyes are intense, his features stark and bold.
It’s as if everything that makes a man in the human sense is taken up several notches with strong bones, a square jaw, and sensual lips.
He towers over me, and it feels as if his eyes themselves are beams of light into the very heart of me.
It's as if he can see those old fears inside me, the loneliness I have carried for too many years. Beyond his shimmering electric force, I sense the natural intimacy between us. The tug of it is so strong that it’s discombobulating.
His thumb strokes along the line of my jaw. His touch is warm, and I feel shockingly alive. I’m so hot, I imagine sparks leaping from my skin. His touch is a balm to my unsettled state. His thumb moves in a sensual caress over my bottom lip.
Unbidden, my mouth parts, and I try to breathe. I draw in the smallest sip of air. All the while, my heart rampages in my chest.
His gaze darkens. “Romi,” Thorne whispers gruffly.
“Yes?” I whisper.
“You are my fate.” His declaration rings in my heart.
Thorne’s words set my racing pulse careening along faster and faster. Time feels simultaneously slow and fast as he bends low to bring his lips to mine. The moment our mouths collide, it’s like lightning strikes between us, the air snapping with the burning-hot jolt of our connection.
His lips brush over mine, once and then again, before he lifts his head. “Romi, my heart,” he whispers.
I stare into his fiery gaze, breathless with the rush of emotion and sensation spinning through me. Although I cannot speak, it feels as if we are communicating with our bodies.
You are mine as well, I say.
I will protect you, he returns.
And I, you.
On the heels of a breath, he angles his head to the side and claims my mouth in a devouring kiss. Our tongues tangle, and I’m grateful for the shelf behind me and his arm, strong around my waist, to keep me from collapsing to the floor.
Everything blurs into nothing but sensation. I catalog all of it—the way he tastes, the firm, sensual command of his mouth over mine, his strong body pressed against me, the muscled planes of his chest, the way his palm splays on my lower back.
He tugs at the ties of my shirt until it falls open. My aching breasts feel heavy, and my nipples are tight. We break apart, our breathing echoing in the air around us.
His eyes are like fire on mine. I feel the heat of his gaze when it dips down to my bare breasts.
His hand slides down the side of my neck, the calloused surface of his touch like the sensation of sparks leaping over my skin.
His hand is so big it engulfs my breast as he lightly cups one and then the other, teasing his thumb over my aching nipples.
I hear myself whimper, arching into his touch. As if he can read my thoughts, he knows I need more. He dips down and catches one nipple with his mouth. I cry out at the sharp, hot suction. He teases my nipples, and all the while, I barely recognize the sounds I’m making—pants, whimpers, moans.
I’m wearing what I typically wear for riding and working in the stables. A laced top over a riding skirt that falls to my knees with leggings underneath. My chest heaving, I feel restless and needy, desperate for something.
I can feel the hard, hot length of his arousal pressing against my lower belly. I know I want him to fill me. I’m near frantic for it. He lowers his head again, his eyes burning into mine.
“I need to taste you,” he growls.
In answer, I drag my palm over the thick ridge of his arousal.
I feel bold, unfettered, and entirely unafraid.
He yanks at my leggings, shoving them down around my ankles before dragging my skirt up my thighs.
He lifts me, and I feel the rough surface of the table against my bottom as he slides my hips onto it.
I’m still wearing my boots, and my ankles are bound by my leggings.
My knees fall open, and he steps back, his eyes dipping down.
I feel my pussy clench. I’m so wet and slippery, aching for him to fill me.
Once again, I’m startled by my whimpering. His fingers tease through the wetness while my hips rock into his touch. He lifts his eyes to mine again.
“I cannot take you completely. Not now. We must wait,” he says.
My breath is coming in sharp pants as I look at him and nod.
“But I can give you pleasure.”
At that, he sinks two fingers inside me, and I cry out sharply. When he withdraws his touch, I’m startled to hear myself plead, “Thorne, please.”
He swiftly unlaces his breeches. My eyes go wide at the sight of his thick, long shaft.
A glistening bead of his seed rolls out the tip.
He slides his big palm around my waist, splaying the base of my spine as he nudges me to the edge of the table, where my legs dangle down with my knees falling further open.
We watch together as he fists his thick cock and brings the tip of it to my slippery wet folds, smearing his seed all over me.
It’s beyond arousing. I can hardly bear the force of need pounding through me.
I watch as he slides the thick crown up and down over my swollen bud.
He draws back slightly, and I bite my lip to keep from moaning at the sight of his arousal dripping over me.
I’ve never felt like this. All I want is for him to fill me and make me plump with his alien baby. I was so pleased to be ignored by the men on earth, but now I want nothing more than Thorne’s complete attention. I want him to fuck me for days, to make me come again and again, to give him babies.
“You are mine,” he whispers before claiming my mouth in another melting kiss.
With my breasts bare, my knees open, and my pussy begging for him, all I can do is whimper.
He breaks away again, and we watch together while he smears more arousal all over my pussy before nesting the tip of his cock right in my entrance.
I feel empty, and I want him to fill me. Yet he has complete control.
He holds still before shifting to slide the underside of his cock over the center of my pleasure.
I feel myself spinning and tightening inside as sharp rays of pleasure streak through me.
I tumble into it and shudder all over. While I’m still lost in my climax, he notches his tip at my entrance once again, barely stretching me, and I feel the heat of his release filling me.
When he pulls it out, my pussy is covered in his glistening, pearly seed. His eyes burn into mine. He lifts his fingers and brings them to my mouth.
“Taste us,” he tells me.
Thorne is all I can think about over the following days. Our wedding cannot come soon enough. I’m so impatient for it that I don’t even care how caught up Jane is in making sure I have a beautiful dress.
Thorne comes to see me again. And again. That supply room becomes a place of pleasure for me. When he’s not with me, I walk in, and I remember what he has done with me. Simply thinking about it arouses me.