Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“With reverence,” Adjar said softly. “We touch our mates with reverence.”
He proceeded to demonstrate. His hands mapped her body with excruciating patience, tracing every curve and hollow. His mouth followed, pressing kisses to the freckles on her shoulders, the swell of her breasts, and the soft skin of her stomach.
Human bodies were so exposed, so vulnerable without protective scales.
He found himself fascinated by the softness of her, the way her skin felt under his fingers, the delicate structures of her collarbones and the graceful curve of her throat.
He traced these with his tongue, tasting the salt of her skin and committing every detail to memory.
When his hands moved to her breasts, she arched against him, a soft moan escaping her lips. Her flesh there was softer still, yielding to his touch in a way that made his shaft throb urgently within his sheath.
“Is this good?” he asked, needing to be certain.
“So good,” she breathed, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair.
He explored further, discovering that she made the most delicious sounds when he took one of her small brown nipples between his lips and suckled gently.
“Oh God, yes,” she gasped.
Encouraged, he continued his exploration, kissing his way down her body, learning what made her gasp and what made her pull his hair with just enough force to let him know he should never stop.
He kissed his way down her stomach, noting the slight quiver of her muscles and the way her breathing quickened with anticipation.
When he reached the juncture of her thighs, her scent enveloped him—a sweet muskiness that made his head spin.
He gently parted her legs, using his tail to keep them open, then lowered his head and ran his tongue along her folds, groaning at the taste of her.
She cried out, her hips lifting instinctively toward his mouth.
He explored her thoroughly, finding the small, sensitive bud that made her writhe and gasp when he circled it with his tongue.
“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
He had no intention of stopping. He focused on that sensitive spot, alternating between firm strokes and gentle flicks of his tongue, drinking in her reactions. She clutched at his hair, guiding his movements, and the sounds she made were the most beautiful music he’d ever heard.
When her body began to tense, her thighs trembling against his shoulders, he increased his attentions, determined to bring her pleasure. She shattered with a cry, her back arching off the bunk, and he held her through it, prolonging her release until she collapsed, panting his name.
He crawled back up her body, resting his weight on his forearms to avoid crushing her. Her eyes were half-closed, a satisfied smile curving her lips.
“That was wonderful. Amazing.” She shook her head. “I don’t even have words.”
He preened at the praise, his chest swelling with masculine pride. But his own desire was still demanding attention, his shaft aching with the need to be inside her.
“I want you,” he said, his voice rough. “All of you.”
Her eyes opened fully, and he saw desire flare there again despite her recent release.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I want that too. May I?”
Her hand was already sliding down his stomach, searching for the base of his slit.
“God, yes,” he groaned, his shaft springing free with one firm press of her hand. She gasped, her fingers exploring the ridges and the distinctive shape.
“So different,” she murmured, her touch sending jolts of pleasure through him. “But so beautiful.”
“Only with you,” he managed. “Only for you.”
He reached between them, positioning himself at her entrance, then hesitated. She was so small in comparison to him.
“You will tell me if it hurts.”
“Of course. Now come here.”
She raised her hips and the wet heat of entrance almost undid him right there. He pressed forward slowly, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. The first inch slid in easily, her body welcoming him, but as he went deeper, he felt resistance.
“Breathe,” he murmured. “Relax for me.”
She took a deep breath, her body softening, and he pressed forward again. The sensation was incredible—tight, hot, perfect. When he was fully seated, they both groaned in unison.
“Are you okay?” he asked, fighting to keep still despite the instinct to move.
“You’re so big,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. “It’s perfect.”
He began to move, starting with slow, shallow thrusts that gradually deepened as her body adjusted to him. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure radiating through him, the ridges along his shaft creating additional friction that made her gasp.
“Adjar,” she moaned. “That’s… oh God, that’s perfect.”
He could feel his climax building, a tightening at the base of his spine that promised release, but he was determined to bring her pleasure again first. He shifted his angle slightly, searching, and when she cried out, he knew he’d found the right spot.
“There?” he asked, repeating the movement.
“Yes! Don’t stop.”
He didn’t. He maintained the angle, driving into her again and again, watching as her pleasure mounted once more. Her inner muscles clenched around him, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.
“Take your pleasure,” he urged, his voice strained. “I need to feel you.”
Her eyes locked with his as he thrust deeper, and then she shattered again, her body convulsing around his in rhythmic pulses that pushed him over the edge.
He buried his face against her neck as he came, his release pulsing from him in waves, filling her with his seed. The sensation went beyond physical pleasure, touching something deeper, as if two halves had been made whole.
As the intensity faded, he carefully withdrew and rolled to the side, taking her with him so she lay against his chest. Their bodies were damp with exertion, her skin flushed and warmed by their shared heat.
For a long moment, they simply breathed together, the pounding of their hearts gradually slowing.
“I’ve never felt anything like that,” she murmured at last, her voice drowsy with satisfaction.
“Nor have I.” He shifted his weight, careful not to crush her. “Is it… acceptable?”
She laughed softly, the sound vibrating through him. “Acceptable? Adjar, that was incredible. Beyond incredible.”
Relief and pride warred within him, and he couldn’t help the smile that curved his lips. “Good. Because I plan to do it again. Many times.”
Her laugh was louder this time, and she pulled his head down to kiss him, a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened into something hungrier.
“Promises, promises,” she whispered against his lips, and his shaft immediately stiffened, determined to fulfill every promise.
Much, much later, Adjar woke to stillness—no howling wind, no rattling walls, no constant pressure of the storm trying to claw its way inside. The absence of sound felt like a weight lifted from his chest that he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying.
Jaz lay curled against him, her breathing deep and even, one hand pressed flat against his scales as if even in sleep she sought his warmth.
Her dark hair had escaped its braid, the tangled strands spreading across his arm like threads of shadow.
He watched her for a long moment, studying the way her lashes fanned against her cheeks and the small furrow between her brows that never quite smoothed even in rest.
Mine.
Not a claim of ownership but of something deeper. Certainty. The knowledge that whatever purpose had driven him from his frozen sleep, she was part of it.
He extended his senses outward, testing the world beyond their shelter. The ice spoke to him in its ancient language of pressure and movement, vibrations traveling through the frozen ground like whispers. The storm had truly passed this time. Not merely a lull but a genuine cessation.
“Jaz.”
She stirred, making a soft sound of protest, and burrowed deeper into his side.
“Jaz,” he said firmly. “Wake.”
Her eyes opened, unfocused at first, then sharpening as consciousness returned. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. The storm has ended.”
She went still, her head tilted as she listened. Then she sat up abruptly, and the movement sent a wash of cold air beneath the thermal blanket. He suppressed a growl of displeasure at the loss of her softness.
“It’s quiet.” She scrambled off the bunk, reaching for the environmental readouts. “It’s actually quiet. The external sensors are showing—” Her voice caught. “Wind speed under fifteen kilometers per hour. Visibility improving. Temperature still brutal but stable. It’s already warmer in here.”
“I told you. It is over.”
“You could feel it? Through the walls?”
“Through the ice. Through the ground beneath.” He rose more slowly, stretching his muscles. His wings ached to unfurl and catch the open air but they had plans to make first. “The pressure changed. The earth breathes differently when the storm sleeps.”
She stared at him for a moment, her eyebrows raised, but then she shook her head and turned back to her equipment, practical matters reasserting themselves.
“If the storm’s really over, my communication array should come back online. If GenCon is on the move, someone may have reported it.” She was already pulling on layers of clothing, her movements quick and efficient. “I also need to check the external equipment and see what survived.”
“I will come with you.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I will come with you.”
She opened her mouth as if to argue, then closed it again. A small smile flickered at the corner of her lips. “Fine. But stay close to the habitat. If there’s any sign of GenCon activity—”
“I will not let them see me.” He moved to stand behind her, close enough to feel the warmth of her body. “I may be newly woken, but I am not foolish.”
“Could have fooled me, attacking my drilling rig like that.”
“Your drilling rig attacked first.”
“It was just sitting there!”
“It was loud. And bright. And producing vibrations that felt like—” He searched for the right word. “Like screaming. As if the ice itself was being tortured.”
She paused in her preparations, looking back at him with an expression he couldn’t quite read. “The ice was screaming?”
“Not literally. But the vibrations… It produced a particular pattern that is painful to senses like mine.” He flexed his fingers, remembering the disorientation of those first moments after waking. “I did not know what I was attacking. I only knew something was wrong.”
“And now? Does the habitat’s equipment bother you?”
“No. It is quieter. Different frequencies.” He touched her shoulder, turning her to face him fully. “I would tell you if something caused me pain. I am learning to use words instead of claws.”
That earned him another small smile. “Progress.”
They suited up—or rather, she suited up while he reluctantly donned the largest thermal cloak she could find, arguing that it would help disguise him if he were spotted from a distance.
Then the airlock cycled open, and they stepped out into a transformed world.
The landscape stretched before him in shades of white and pale blue, the ice cap rolling towards the horizon in gentle undulations.
The sky above was clear for the first time since his emergence, a deep rust-red that faded to pink at the edges.
Two small moons hung low on the horizon, pale crescents against the dawn.
Wrong, something whispered in the back of his mind. The sky should be different.
He pushed the thought aside. Many things were wrong. Many things had changed. He could not afford to mourn a sky he barely remembered.
She moved past him, her breath misting in the frigid air as she headed towards a cluster of equipment half-buried in snow. “The communication array’s over here. The main antenna took some damage, but the backup systems should—”
She stopped mid-sentence, staring at the equipment.
“What is wrong?”
“Nothing. Actually, it’s better than I expected. The backup array is intact.” She was already working, brushing snow away from panels and checking connections. “Give me a few minutes.”
He stood guard while she worked, his senses extended outward for any sign of threat. The ice whispered to him of distant movements, vehicle vibrations, perhaps, but they were many kilometers away. There was nothing close to them. Not yet.
“Got it!” she called, interrupting his surveillance. “Array’s online. Signal’s weak but—”
She fell silent, and he turned to find her staring at a small screen, her face gone pale.
“What is it?”
“I have messages.” Her voice had gone flat, carefully controlled in a way that told him she was anything but calm. “Three of them. All of them from GenCon.”