17. Daisy
Daisy
Iwake to warmth and safety and the steady thump of Hakan's heartbeat in my ear.
We're tangled together on the sleeping mat, my body pressed along the length of his, his arm wrapped protectively around me.
I feel cherished. Complete. Like I've finally found the place I'm meant to be.
Hakan stirs beneath me, his hand sliding up my spine in a gentle caress. "Good morning, amavi."
His voice is rough with sleep, deeper than usual, and it sends a pleasant shiver through me.
"Good morning," I murmur, tilting my head to look up at him.
His amber eyes are warm, content, and when he smiles down at me, my heart does a little flip in my chest.
"How do you feel?" he asks, his hand continuing its lazy exploration of my back.
"Sore," I admit. "But in a good way."
His expression turns concerned. "I hurt you —"
"No," I interrupt, placing my finger over his lips. "You were perfect. Gentle and patient and perfect. I'm just ... not used to someone your size."
The worry in his eyes shifts to something heated. "You took me so well, Daisy. So beautifully."
Heat floods through me at the memory — the stretch, the fullness, the overwhelming sensation of being completely claimed by him.
"I want to do it again," I hear myself say boldly.
His eyes flare bright gold. "Now?"
"Maybe not immediately," I say with a laugh. "But soon. Very soon."
I feel his shaft beginning to harden against my thigh, the golden glow already starting to emanate from it.
"You're insatiable," he accuses, but there's pleasure in his tone.
"Only for you," I reply honestly.
I shift position, moving down his body, trailing kisses across his chest, his abdomen, until I'm brushing my cheek against his glowing cock.
"Daisy," he says, his voice strained. "You don't have to —"
"I want to," I tell him. "I want to taste you. Want to make you feel as good as you made me feel."
His hands clench in the bedding, and I take that as permission.
I start with gentle exploration — kissing along the length of him, learning the texture and taste of his skin. He's velvet over steel, his massive shaft pulsing with golden light, and I'm fascinated by the way it responds to my touch.
When I finally take the purple plum head into my mouth, he groans, the sound raw and desperate.
"Daisy — by the ancestors —"
I work him slowly, using my hand for what I can't fit in my mouth, learning what makes him gasp, what makes his hips jerk.
"Going to —" he warns, his hands moving to my hair. "Daisy, I'm going to —"
I don't pull away. I want this — want to taste him, want to give him this pleasure.
He comes with a roar, his seed filing my mouth. It tastes strange but not unpleasant — slightly sweet, with an energy that tingles my tongue.
When he's finished, I release him and move back up his body. He pulls me into a fierce kiss, apparently not caring that he can taste himself on my lips.
"That was incredible," he breathes. "You're incredible."
"Your turn to make me feel incredible," I suggest with a smile.
He doesn't need to be asked twice.
He rolls us so I'm beneath him, and this time there's no hesitation, no careful working up to it. He knows my body now, knows exactly how to touch me, where to kiss me, how to make me ready for him.
When he slides inside, we both sigh with satisfaction. This is where we belong — joined together, moving as one.
He makes love to me with a passion tempered by tenderness, his hands and mouth worshiping every inch of me while his shaft fills me completely. I lose track of how many times he brings me to climax before finally following me over the edge.
Afterward, we're both exhausted and satisfied, our bodies slick with sweat, our hearts racing in tandem.
"Sleep," he murmurs, pulling me against his chest. "Rest with me, amavi."
I don't argue. I just curl into him and let sleep claim me.
When I wake again, I'm alone in the sleeping quarters.
Panic flares for a moment before I hear voices from the common area — Hakan's deep rumble mixing with the boys' higher tones. They're laughing about something, the sounds warm and domestic.
I smile and stretch, my body protesting the movement with pleasant aches that remind me of exactly what Hakan and I did.
I find my clothes scattered around the sleeping quarters and get dressed, running my fingers through my wild hair in a futile attempt to tame it.
When I emerge, I find Hakan at the small kitchen area, working the food synthesizer while the boys sit at the table, chattering excitedly.
"She's awake!" Riz announces when he sees me.
"We were getting worried you'd sleep all day," Davi adds.
Hakan turns from the synthesizer, and the look he gives me is so full of warmth and possession that I feel heat rising in my cheeks.
"Hungry?" he asks.
"Starving," I admit.
He gestures to the table. "Sit. Food's almost ready."
I slide into a seat beside Davi, who immediately leans against me with casual affection. Riz mirrors the gesture from the other side, and my heart swells with love for these boys.
Hakan brings over plates of food — protein, vegetables, grain — simple fare but nourishing. We eat together, the boys telling us about a game they've been playing, their excitement palpable.
"And then Riz totally cheated," Davi accuses.
"I did not cheat!" Riz protests. "I used strategy!"
"Strategy is just a fancy word for cheating," Davi insists.
"Boys," Hakan says mildly, and they both settle down, though they're still grinning at each other.
We finish the meal in comfortable companionship, and I give thanks for this moment — the four of us together, safe and happy, just being a family.
That's when Riz and Davi exchange a look, one of those silent communications that telepaths excel at.
"We want with talk with you about something," Riz says, suddenly serious.
"Both of you," Davi adds.
Hakan and I exchange glances, then turn our full attention to the boys.
"What is it?" I ask gently.
Riz takes a deep breath. "We've been thinking about what happens when we get to Nazen. About what happens when we find Grandfather."
“We’ve decided…,” Davi says, then pauses, seeming to struggle for words.
“You’ve decided what?" Hakan prompts.
"We want you to be our family, too,” Riz finally says in a rush. "Both of you. With us and Grandfather. We want you to be our mom and dad."
My breath catches. I look at Hakan and see my own shock and joy reflected in his expression.
Davi adds, “All of us together. Is that okay?"
I realize I'm crying — happy tears streaming down my face. "Oh, boys. Of course that's okay. It's more than okay. As long your grandfather agrees.”
“He’s going to agree!” Riz says.
“You’re going to love him!” Davi says.
"Nothing would make me happier," Hakan says, his voice rough with emotion, "than to call you my sons."
The boys launch themselves at us, and suddenly we're all tangled together in a group embrace, laughing and crying and holding each other tight.
"A family," Riz says happily.
"A real family," Davi agrees.
"Yes," I confirm, kissing the top of each boy's head. "A real family."
Hakan's arms come around all three of us, and I feel his love — for me, for the boys — pouring through our bond.
This is what I was missing on Earth. This sense of belonging. Of being exactly where I'm supposed to be, with exactly the people I'm supposed to be with.
"When we get to Nazen," Hakan says, “we’ll meet your Grandfather. And if he agrees, we’ll make it official. No one will ever take you away from us."
"Promise?" Riz asks.
"Promise," Hakan and I say together.
We stay like that for a long time, just holding each other, basking in the warmth of family and love and belonging.