Chapter 23 #2
His heart swelled, his breath lodged in his throat, and his tongue tangled over every word he wanted to utter. Her expression melted the anger tainting his vision.
She smiled at him. “Their reverence is a little annoying.” She scuffed the sand with her bare toes. “Your queen asked me what I want. Can you believe that?”
Illan splayed his fingers across his sternum and forced himself to speak. “What did you say?”
“A small house near a fish-filled lake.” Her chuckle was breathless. “A place of my own, to be left alone for the most part, almost like another Vora.” She peered at him, shielding her eyes with her hand. “I mean, I could live in the Haile, but I like beds and cleansers.”
“My fault,” he said, keeping his tone light. He ached to share that—a home, a bed, a cleanser—with her. After the chaos of the last week, nothing had ever sounded more blissful.
She hummed. “More garments like these, a med-gun, and a dagger.”
“You ask for too little.”
Her smile was serene. “A life of peace is never little, Illan. But Macy tells me you’ve taken care of that for me,” she said, glancing at him, her expression expectant.
“Yes, porting between the Celeeri, the facility, and the Haile seemed a waste of time.”
Her eyes warmed, her face softened, and in that moment, she’d never looked more beautiful. “Why do this for me?”
“Like you said: where you go, I go.”
She harrumphed. “Not much of an answer.”
He chuckled, drawing her closer. The sun-kissed scent of her skin called to him. He couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to her temple, each cheek, the tip of her chin, before claiming her lips. A groan slipped out when he registered the hot softness of her mouth.
“Elorach,” he mumbled, breaking away to dust kisses along her jaw.
“What did the Maloidian reveal?” she asked, her voice husky.
“So much,” he mumbled, not wanting to go into it.
“Good.” She caught his face between her palms and kissed him, snatching his breath.
“Ziamee,” he rasped, cupping her breast through her chest armor. He growled at being hindered. “Come, let us…retire.” He snatched her hand, pinning his palm to hers.
Sensual images slammed into him, peppered with emotions too intense for him to handle. But he wouldn’t break contact, not for all the knowledge in the universe. Every moment spent with her would be treasured.
He waited for her to don her boots, then led her up the steps and along a path.
A warrior awaited them. “This way, Lord Illan,” he said, guiding them toward a row of buildings north of the beach.
Illan raised their clasped hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “My thanks,” he said to the male, then spoke no more until the door to their quarters closed behind them.
Ziamee supposed she should insist on knowing what the ambassador had revealed, but the heat in Illan’s eyes promised something more…
important. Whatever secrets he’d learned had rattled him.
In time, she expected him to share, so she’d practice being patient.
Besides, she needed to claim her male, as decided.
And if she judged by his kiss, intimacy was in her near future. Maybe, if he told her he loved her in the throes of passion, she’d answer him, making him realize his confession and acknowledge hers. If she was lucky.
The room they’d been given was similar to Macy’s, just devoid of color. Not that it mattered, though. Ziamee pulled her hand free and ventured deeper, crossing to the door at the rear. A bedroom lay beyond, a cleansing room to the side.
She thumped her chest, parting her armor, then shrugged out of it, only to catch and lower it to the bed. Next went her boots and pants, all while Illan hovered in the doorway, his eyes blazing with a need that burned within her. An ache throbbed from between her thighs.
“Lie on the bed,” he commanded, entering the room to lean against the bulkhead.
She obeyed, eager to discover what he had planned.
“Spread your legs for me,” he said, peeling off his tunic.
She licked her lips at the sight of his sculptured chest. Her fingers twitched in memory of how he felt beneath her touch. Slowly, she shifted a foot to the side, then the other, biting her bottom lip at the air cooling her heated sex. She shivered but not from the cold.
“So beautiful, Ziamee.” He drew closer, placing his fingers on her ankle. “Never did I think I would find such joy with the female who threatened me with a worn dagger.” He trailed along her calf, around her knee, then up her inner thigh.
Her hips jerked, anticipation sparking every nerve.
He placed his knee onto the bed, then fell forward, catching her thighs and hoisting her legs up. His mouth along her seam made her cry out, his tongue inside her, flicking her sensitive spot, had her whimpering.
Stars and blinding light swept her away, along with the pleasure lashing at her senses.
“Hands,” he said, forcing her to open her eyes.
She held up her palms, her gaze traversing his body to the parted V of his pants where his hard kok peeked out. What she wanted to do to him she shared with him: run her tongue along the length of him, lick the tip.
He sucked in a sharp breath, tightening their clasped hands. “Elorach, Ziamee, I do not have control for—”
He released one hand to grip her hip, angling his hips to thrust into her.
A groan tore from him, and he stilled, arching his back as if he savored their connection.
A few more thrusts had her riding the waves with him.
A fulfillment was close, building with intensity, each ledge more exquisite and enthralling.
But he froze, his gaze locking with hers. “With minds entwined, our bodies align. We are one for eternity. Say it, Ziamee.”
Sensing the importance of his words, she said, her voice husky, “With minds entwined, our bodies align. We are one for eternity.”
Releasing her hand and hip, he pressed two fingers to her temple. “Dhutya,” he said.
While keeping his touch in place, he guided her hand to his brow.
She mimicked him, holding her two fingers in place. “Dhutya,” she said.
Agony, spliced with an explosion of joy, drenched her and sent her eyes rolling back into her skull.
Not once did Illan pull away. She didn’t either, too mesmerized by her life’s journey blending with his: his brother’s face; his dhutya Cyndi; Illan’s time on a Yithian ship; what Quin and Macy meant to him; the endless travels around the galaxy in search of Durn knowledge; peace; then her face as she peered at him through her ruined net.
And with it came a wealth of love.
She gasped, tears forming. He does love me.
Of course I do.
She broke contact then, snatching her hand back. Illan?
Yes, precious.
I can hear you, inside my head. Like Oz had shared with her. Still, the reality of it was mind-altering.
We are dhutya.
When he kissed her, he inhaled through his nose as if he couldn’t get enough of her.
I cannot. He stole another kiss when they were his to take. When he leaned back, he cupped her cheeks and held her gaze. “I love you, Ziamee.”
“I know. You said it…once.”
He chuckled. I wanted to, so desperately. It does not surprise me that I did.
“Well, I love you, too,” she said, overcome by an unexpected shyness.
You would have left me to die if you had not loved me. Now, show me what Oz made you see.
How? She frowned.
He chuckled. I suspected you would take after your father. You, my sweet dhutya, are a nizena.
“A what?”
“Speak the word,” he commanded.
“Nizena,” she said. Images and information flooded her mind. She gaped at what he thought her to be. It sounded…magical.
Now that you understand, do not hide from me. Open your mind.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing everything inside her to reveal itself to him. Now?
No.
She huffed. How then?
I see it. His eyes widened. A door guards your deepest thoughts. It is not a solid mass but something…ephemeral. “I cannot unlock it, ohara. Perhaps ask your father to best guide you.”
She scowled. Not a discussion I want to have anytime soon.
Ashamed of me? Illan teased, feathering kisses across her mouth until she caught him and held him still for a thorough kiss.
She dropped back, her breathing labored as tendrils of heat uncoiled in her core. “Never,” she rasped, running her hands over his chest. The urge to trace her touch with her lips was almost too overwhelming.
“Ah, you think you need to forgive him first?” His eyes darkened, his cheeks paled, and a flood of desire slammed into her. And yes, you can lick me anywhere.
Let’s talk about Padya later. She pressed her mouth to his skin and tasted him.
“Agreed.” He withdrew and flipped her, setting her peering down at him, her knees at his hips.
She laughed. Oh, I like this. She ran her fingers along his collarbones, then up his neck to cup his jaw. Then all humor fled, and she dipped to kiss him.
What crossed the distance between them was…pure love. Tears pressed behind her eyes as she succumbed to the sheer beauty.
He guided her, settling her on his rigid shaft. Come for me, Ziamee, my dhutya, a gift from Elorach.
And she obeyed, angling her hips with every thrust. She panted his name, riding the pleasure, heightened by the images flooding her. Without their palms touching? Incredible. He gripped her hips, holding her still as he pistoned into her.
Another fulfillment hit her, and she arched, too amazed to move.
He whipped her onto her back and took over, summoning more pleasure until she was mindless, unable to stop him, not sure she wanted to.
With a roar, he froze, tiny grunts escaping him. A sheen coated his body, adding a shimmer to his skin. A grin followed as she admired him through a haze of satiated lust.
This was her male.
And she’d succeeded, getting him to finally claim her.
He collapsed but shielded her from taking the brunt of his weight. Elorach, how I do love you, Ziamee. He pressed a kiss to her temple, stroking her hair aside with a reverent touch. Thank you for not killing me.
She snorted at that bit of nonsense.
To which he laughed.