Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Melissa’s hand closed around his wrist. Becsul looked down at her fingers—small and brown against his green skin—and felt his entire body go still. She was watching him with an expression he couldn’t quite read, something intense and deliberate that made his heart stutter in his chest.
“Sarah,” she said, not breaking eye contact with him. “Can you watch Robbie for a while?”
The pale woman looked up from where she sat with Katie, surprise flickering across her features. Then understanding dawned, and a small smile curved her lips. “Of course. Take your time.”
His mind was moving too slowly. He watched Melissa transfer Robbie—sleeping peacefully, his tiny fists curled against his chest—into Sarah’s waiting arms. He watched her smooth a hand over the baby’s dark hair, a gesture of tenderness so natural it made something ache deep in his core.
And then she was turning back to him, her dark eyes bright with determination, and her fingers were intertwining with his, and she was pulling him towards the third room.
“Melissa—”
“Not here.”
The third room was smaller than the others, little more than a storage space converted into sleeping quarters.
A narrow bed occupied most of the floor.
The emergency exit Becsul had mentioned earlier was barely visible in the dim light—a panel in the wall that would open onto the maintenance tunnels if needed.
She closed the door behind them with a soft click.
And then they were alone.
His tail was already reaching for her, responding to her presence with an instinct he’d long since stopped trying to control. It curled around her waist, drawing her closer, and she came willingly—stepping into his space and pressing her palms flat against his chest.
“I want to celebrate,” she said.
“Celebrate?”
“Our freedom. Our escape. The fact that we’re still alive.” Her fingers traced the texture of his skin through his uniform, sending sparks of sensation racing along his nerve endings. “I don’t want to wait anymore, Becsul.”
His breath caught. “Wait for what?”
“For you to make me your mate.”
The words almost knocked him to his knees. He’d dreamed of hearing them for so long. In the darkest hours of the night he’d allowed himself to imagine a future where she chose him willingly, freely, without the shadow of captivity hanging over them.
But they weren’t free. Not yet. Not really.
“Melissa.” He caught her hands, stilling their exploration, and forced himself to meet her eyes. “We’re still being hunted. We’re hiding in an abandoned building on a dying planet, waiting to be smuggled off-world in a cargo hold. This isn’t—”
“I know what this is.” Her voice was steady and certain. “I know exactly what this is.”
“Do you?” He released one of her hands to cup her face, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone.
Her skin was so soft, so impossibly soft against his rougher skin.
“Because I need you to be sure. I need to know that this isn’t just relief.
Or adrenaline. Or gratitude because I got you out of that place. ”
“You think I want you because you saved me?”
“I think emotions run high in situations like this. I think humans and Cire alike can confuse survival instincts for something deeper.” He swallowed, fighting against every instinct that screamed at him to stop talking and simply take what she was offering.
“I think if we do this and you regret it later, it would destroy me.”
Something shifted in her expression. The determination was still there, but it was joined now by a tenderness that made his chest constrict.
“Becsul.” She reached up, her fingers brushing against his jaw.
“I’ve been married to my work my entire adult life.
I chose artificial insemination because I didn’t think I’d ever find a partner who could match me, who could challenge me, and who could stand beside me as an equal instead of trying to control me or change me. ”
“Melissa—”
“Let me finish.” She pressed a finger to his lips, and the simple touch sent heat racing through his veins.
“When the Vedeckians took me and I woke up in that cell with my son, I thought my life was over. I thought I would die there, or worse—that I would survive and watch them turn me into something I didn’t recognize.
A vessel. A resource. A thing to be used. ”
Her voice trembled slightly, but her eyes remained steady on his.
“And then you walked into my cell, and you held my crying baby, and you looked at me like I was a person. Like I mattered. Like my comfort and my dignity and my choices meant something.” She shook her head slowly. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been since anyone made me feel that way?”
“I only treated you as you deserved to be treated.”
“Exactly.” Her smile was small but genuine. “You only treated me the way I deserved. That’s not nothing, Becsul. That’s everything.”
She stepped closer, pressing her body against his, and his tail tightened reflexively around her waist. He could feel her heat through their clothes and smell the unique scent that had become as familiar to him as his own heartbeat—warm and sweet, with undertones of milk from nursing Robbie.
“I’m not asking you because you saved me,” she said softly. “I’m asking because you’re the first person in my entire life who has made me feel like I could be saved and still be myself. Because when I think about the future—any future, any possibility—I can’t imagine one that doesn’t include you.”
“Melissa…”
“I love you.” The words were simple, offered without hesitation or apology. “I love you, and I want you, and we have four hours before we have to run again. I don’t want to waste them wondering what if.”
The last of his resistance crumbled.
He kissed her.
It wasn’t gentle, not after weeks of wanting and waiting and careful restraint finally breaking free. He claimed her mouth with a desperation that surprised even him, his hands finding her waist, her hips, the curve of her back as he pulled her impossibly closer.
She made a sound against his lips, a moan that sent fire racing straight to his core, and her arms wound around his neck, her fingers caressing the sensitive skin at the base of his skull. The sensation made him shudder, made his tail tighten convulsively around her.
“Bed,” she breathed when they broke apart for air. “Now.”
He didn’t need to be told twice.
He lifted her easily and carried her the few steps to the narrow bed. When he laid her down, she pulled him with her, and then he was above her, between her thighs, watching her face in the dim light and thinking that he had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life.
“I don’t know—” He stopped, and swallowed.
“We’ll figure it out.” She was already working at the fastenings of his uniform, her fingers quick and clever. “Together.”
Together. The word echoed in his mind as he helped her first with his clothes and then hers, stripping away the barriers between them one by one. Together. As mates. As family.
Her hands mapped his body as each piece fell away, exploring the variations in his skin texture, the hard planes of muscle and the softer hollows.
He mirrored her movements, discovering the fullness of her breasts, the soft swell of her stomach, and the powerful muscles of her thighs.
When his fingers brushed between her legs, he found her wet and ready, and his body responded with an eagerness that almost undid him.
“So responsive,” he murmured against her neck, stroking her gently as she arched against him.
“Only for you.”
The words made him want to growl with satisfaction. But he kept his touches light, teasing, bringing her pleasure without rushing towards his own. She rewarded him with breathless sounds and urgent whispers of his name. She was vocal in her pleasure, which surprised and delighted him.
When she reached between them, wrapping her small hand around his cock, he had to fight to maintain control. Her touch was bold, explorative, and when she stroked him from base to tip, his hips jerked involuntarily.
“Melissa,” he warned.
“I want to taste you.”
Before he could process her words, she was moving, sliding down beneath him until her face was level with his groin. Her tongue darted out, tracing the head of his erection, and he thought he might die from the pleasure of it.
“Careful,” he managed to say. “It’s sensitive.”
“Mmm.” Her eyes glinted with amusement and desire. “I’ll be gentle.”
She was not gentle. She explored him with her mouth and her hands, learning what made him lose all ability to think coherently. It was the most exquisite torment he had ever experienced.
But he wanted more. He wanted everything.
With a growl, he pulled her back up, rolling them so that she was on top, straddling his hips. The sight of her above him, naked and beautiful and fully his, made his chest constrict.
“Melissa,” he said again, and this time her name was a plea.
She rose up on her knees, positioning him at her entrance, and then slowly, so slowly, she lowered herself onto him.
The heat, the tightness, the feeling of finally being inside her was almost too much to bear.
The sensation was so overwhelming that he had to stop and breathe, to simply feel the impossible rightness of being inside her.
She started to move, small rolling motions that sent shockwaves of pleasure through his body. His hands found her hips, guiding her, setting a pace that made her throw her head back, her dark hair cascading down her back.
“Becsul,” she gasped. “I need—”
“I know what you need.” He sat up, bringing their bodies closer together, and buried his face against her neck. His teeth found that sensitive spot he’d discovered before, where her neck met her shoulder, and he bit down gently.
She cried out, her body clenching around his, and then they were moving together in perfect rhythm, building towards something inevitable.