Chapter 11
The corridor wall was cold against her back, his mouth was hot over hers. Heat and need washed through her system, turning every cell into a live wire.
She couldn’t remember how they’d gotten here.
One moment they’d been in the cargo bay, the next she was up against the bulkhead with his bigger, harder body pinning hers in the narrow space between the cargo hold and crew quarters.
Heat poured off him as his heavily muscled chest pressed against her breasts, and one of his thighs shoved between hers as he made her go up on her toes, riding him.
Every inch of him screamed power held in check.
Grabbing the edges of his jacket, she yanked him closer and deepened the kiss. He growled approval in the back of his throat, sliding his tongue along hers in an erotic dance.
This wasn’t anything like the cockpit kiss. That had been short, controlled… her proving a point. It wasn’t like the corridor kiss either… him calling her bluff, and her responding before her brain caught up. It wasn’t even like the kiss in the cleaning closet, all adrenaline and bad timing.
This was different.
This was what had been building between them since she hadn’t looked away as she watched him in the shower. Since he’d cornered her afterward and asked if she’d enjoyed the show, and she couldn’t make herself lie.
He was bigger than she was. She’d known that… she’d known it since the landing pad on Parac’Norr when he’d loomed over her ship like a wall with opinions. But knowing it from a distance and feeling it with his hands on her face and his body pressed against hers were different things entirely.
She broke the kiss long enough to gasp against his mouth. “My quarters.”
He pulled back to look at her. His pupils were blown wide, the amber of his irises reduced to dark red rings. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
She pushed off the wall, grabbed his hand, and tugged. He followed without hesitation, ducking through the hatch behind her as she palmed the door open. Her territory. Her terms. Same as that first kiss.
The door sealed behind them with a soft hiss, and she triggered the isolation sequence for her implant. There was no way she wanted Fred to interrupt them.
The room was small, as all the rooms on the H4-RPY were, but she’d made it hers.
The quilt her grandmother had made was spread over the bed, and the nav charts she’d annotated during her first solo runs were pinned to the walls.
A small collection of engine parts she’d salvaged from ships that didn’t make it lined up on the shelf like trophies.
Raaze didn’t look at any of it. Instead, he looked at her. “You sure about this, little female?”
She answered by shoving his jacket off his shoulders. It hit the deck behind him with a thud. “Stop talking.”
His lips quirked, and he bent his head to kiss her again, slower this time. His hands found the hem of her shirt and paused there, waiting. She nodded against his mouth, and he pulled it over her head, then stopped.
Just… stopped and looked at her.
“What?” Self-consciousness washed through her. She wasn’t much to look at… too small, too pale, too many calluses on her hands from years of engine work.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathed. “I’ve been thinking about this since the shower.”
“You knew I was watching.”
“Yeah.” His thumb traced her collarbone. “I wanted you to watch.”
She should have been embarrassed, but she wasn’t. Instead, she reached for his shirt, tugging it up over his head. The scars she’d seen on the camera feed were different up close: raised and silver, mapping a history of violence across his skin. She traced the one that curved around his ribs.
“Did you get this playing warball?” she asked.
“Training accident.” His voice was rough. “I was nineteen. Thought I was invincible.”
“Were you?”
“Apparently not.” He looked down at her. “Stop talking.”
She laughed, surprising herself as he moved, scooping her up as if she weighed nothing.
Her back met the bunk a second later, the thin mattress dipping under their combined weight.
He settled between her thighs, careful not to crush her, and kissed her again.
Slower this time. Deeper. Like he wanted to memorize the taste of her.
He kissed down her neck and over her collarbone.
She arched into him, hands roaming over the hard planes of his chest. Scars ridged his skin under her palms. She traced one with her fingertip, and he shuddered.
“Careful,” he rumbled against her throat. “I bite.”
The words sent liquid heat pooling low between her thighs. She tilted her head, giving him better access. “Prove it.”
His teeth grazed her collarbone, sending heat through her blood, and she gasped.
His hands worked at her flight suit, peeling it open, and cool air hit her skin. Then his mouth followed, mapping every inch he uncovered. When he reached her breasts, he paused and looked up at her with those red eyes.
“I’ve been thinking about these since the shower, too.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “Pervert.”
“Your pervert.” He sucked one nipple into his mouth, and her back bowed off the bunk. Holy shit. Pleasure shot through her body, straight to her core. She tangled her fingers in his hair, surprised by how silky the strands felt. She gripped tighter, and he groaned against her skin.
He worked his way lower, stripping the rest of her suit from her as he went.
Her boots and socks followed. Everything until she was naked and writhing beneath him.
He palmed her calves, her thighs, parting them and kissing up the inside of her leg.
When he reached the juncture of her thighs, he looked up again.
She nodded, the words stuck in her throat.
He didn’t dive in like some overeager idiot. No, instead, he took his time and spread her open with those big hands, studying her as if she were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. She squirmed in embarrassment. Surely he’d seen a woman down there before?
Then he lowered his head and licked a slow stripe up her center.
Her hips jerked. “Fuc—fudge.”
He chuckled, the vibration making her toes curl. Then he licked, ending with a swirl around her clit. She bit her lip as he did it again and again. Building a rhythm that had her grinding against his face without shame.
God, he was good at this. Really good. His tongue found a spot that made her gasp, and he stayed there, relentless, until her thighs shook and her hands fisted in his hair, and she made sounds she’d never made before.
He hummed approval as he slid a thick finger inside her, then another. He crooked them, and stars exploded behind her eyelids.
The orgasm hit without warning, white-hot pleasure ripping through her body and exploding outwards.
She cried out, thighs clamping tight, but he didn’t stop.
Instead, he worked her through it, gentling her as she came down and pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs while she remembered how to breathe.
“Oh,” she managed. “That was—”
He lifted his head, lips shiny with her release. Smug male satisfaction etched every line of his face. “Oh, we’re not done.”
He was gone from her for a second, undressing quicker than she’d ever seen a man strip before. Her breathing caught again.
Holy shit, he was built like a Greek god. Heavy muscle layered over a strong, broad frame. Satin skin everywhere. And between his legs…
Her mouth went dry. He was huge. Thick and hard… already leaking at the tip. She’d seen it before in the shower, but context changed everything.
He caught her staring. “We don’t have to—”
“Oh no, you don’t get out of it now. I want to.” She reached down and wrapped her hand around him. Or tried to. Her fingers didn’t meet.
“You’re just… a lot. Go slow?” Her face burned. “I haven’t done this a lot.”
“I’ll go slow.” He brushed hair back from her face. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
She nodded.
Bracing himself on one elbow, he reached between them and guided himself to her entrance. The blunt head nudged against her, hot and insistent. She tensed despite herself.
“Look at me, kelarris.”
The murmur in his low voice hit her somewhere deep. She looked up and met his gaze. His red eyes held hers as he pushed forward a little.
She bit her lip as she felt herself stretch around him, a burn that bordered on too much. But he watched her face the whole time and adjusted his angle when her breath caught.
Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss against her temple.
“That’s it, kelarris,” he murmured. “You feel perfect around my cock. So tight and wet.”
She wasn’t a virgin. She’d had lovers before—two, both human. They’d been quick encounters in port, and neither had been anything to write home about. She’d assumed that was just what sex was. A physical release, nothing more, nothing less.
This was different.
Inch by inch he worked himself inside her, watching her face the whole time. She could feel herself stretching around him, feeling every ridge, every vein. The sense of fullness overwhelmed her senses. Not her first lover, but nothing could have prepared her for this. For him.
“Breathe,” he whispered as he seated himself fully within her. Filled her completely. Then he stayed perfectly still while her body throbbed around his thick length, and adjusted.
His control impressed her. She saw the cords standing out in his neck, and the way he clenched his jaw. But he waited for her, and her heart melted.
She rolled her hips experimentally and gasped as pleasure sparked along her nerves. “Oh god, move. Please move.”
He did. Slow, deep thrusts that dragged against every sensitive spot inside her, setting a rhythm that made her toes curl. She grabbed his shoulders and held on.
“You feel—” he broke off, jaw clenching. “Draanth, you feel incredible.”
She would have laughed if she’d had the breath for it. Instead, she wrapped her legs around his waist, changing the angle of her hips, and pulled him closer.