Chapter 16
IRIS
Istared up at him, my chest heaving. The rational part of my brain—the part that had kept me alive through countless missions—was screaming at me to slow down. To think. To maintain control.
But I didn’t want control. Not with him.
Baleck’s hands moved to my waist, his fingers hooking into the fabric bunched there. He paused, his eyes meeting mine. A question.
I nodded.
He pulled the bodysuit down slowly, over my hips, down my thighs. I lifted slightly to help him, and the material slid off completely, taking my boots and socks with it in one practiced motion. Then he reached for the undershirt still tangled at my waist and pulled that away too.
I was completely naked beneath him.
The vulnerability should have terrified me. Should have sent me scrambling for cover, for clothing, for the armor I wore both literally and figuratively. Instead, I felt…freed. Exposed, yes, but in a way that felt right rather than dangerous.
His eyes traveled over me, and I watched his skin shift through shades of gold and amber. The colors were beautiful, mesmerizing. I’d never seen him glow quite this bright.
“You’re incredible,” he said, his voice rough.
I opened my mouth to deflect, to make some sarcastic comment about how he clearly needed his eyes checked, but he lowered himself over me and pressed a kiss to my stomach. The words died on my lips.
He kissed along the curve of my ribs, gentle and reverent. His mouth was warm, his touch careful. Like I was something precious. Something worth savoring.
No one had ever touched me like this.
“Baleck,” I whispered, not even sure what I was asking for.
“I want to learn every part of you,” he murmured against my skin. His hands stroked up my sides as he kissed lower. “What makes you sigh. What makes you gasp.”
He kissed the jut of my hip bone, and I did gasp. The sensation shot through me like electricity.
His hands moved to my thighs, gently pressing them apart. I let them fall open, my heart pounding so hard I was certain he could hear it. Feel it. The vulnerability of this position made my breath catch, but I didn’t close my legs. Didn’t pull away.
I trusted him. When had that happened?
“So beautiful,” he said again, and this time I believed him. Not because I thought my body was particularly special, but because the reverence in his voice was too genuine to doubt.
He kissed the inside of my thigh, high up where the skin was sensitive. I shivered. He did it again on the other side, his mouth trailing up, up, getting closer to where I needed him most.
“Please,” I heard myself say.
“What do you need?” His breath ghosted over my center, making me clench with anticipation.
“Touch me. Put your mouth on me.”
“Like this?” He pressed a kiss to my inner thigh again, deliberately avoiding where I wanted him.
“You’re being cruel.” But there was no heat in it. Just desperate need.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me. “Not cruel. Thorough.”
Then his mouth was on me, and I stopped thinking entirely.
The first stroke of his tongue was gentle, exploratory. Learning me. I arched off the bench, my hands flying to his head. I didn’t know what to do with them so I just gripped his hair, probably too hard, but he didn’t seem to mind.
He made a sound of approval and did it again, this time firmer. More confident. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, and I felt pleasure build in a way I’d never experienced before.
I’d had sex. I wasn’t a virgin. But it had always been transactional. Quick. Something to scratch an itch or relieve stress. This was different. This was Baleck worshipping me with his mouth like he had all the time in the world.
“You taste incredible,” he murmured against me, and the vibration of his words sent fresh waves of sensation through me.
His hands gripped my thighs, holding me open. I could see the muscles in his arms flexing, the way his shoulders bunched with restraint. He was holding back. I could tell. Could see it in the tension of his body, the way his breathing had gone ragged.
His cock was clearly hard, visibly straining against his pants. I wondered what he looked like. What he’d feel like in my hand. In my mouth. Inside me.
The thought made me clench, and he groaned like he felt it.
“Baleck,” I gasped. “I need more…”
He sealed his mouth over my clit and sucked gently. Stars exploded behind my eyelids. My back arched completely off the bench, and I might have screamed if I’d had the breath for it.
He didn’t stop. His tongue circled and stroked, alternating pressure and speed like he was reading my body’s reactions. Learning what I liked. What made me writhe.
One hand left my thigh, and I felt his fingers at my entrance. He circled slowly, coating them in my wetness before slowly pushing one inside.
“Oh fuck,” I breathed.
“Yes?” The question was rough, strained. Like he was barely holding onto his control.
“Yes. God, yes.”
He pushed the finger deeper, then withdrew and added a second. The stretch was perfect. His mouth never left my clit, his tongue working in rhythm with the thrust of his fingers.
I was drowning in sensation. Overwhelmed. My hands gripped his hair harder, and I might have been making sounds I’d be embarrassed about later, but I didn’t care. Couldn’t care.
He curled his fingers inside me, finding a spot that made me see stars. Did it again. And again.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Let go for me.”
His tongue moved faster, his fingers pumping steadily, and I felt myself climbing toward something bigger than I’d ever felt. The pleasure built and built, pressure coiling tight in my core.
I looked down at him and nearly came from the sight alone. His face between my thighs, his eyes closed in concentration, his skin glowing brilliant gold. The muscles in his back and shoulders were taut, every line of him radiating controlled power.
He was gorgeous. And he was mine.
That thought—he’s mine—sent me over the edge.
The orgasm slammed into me like a freight train. My entire body went rigid, then shook with waves of pleasure so intense I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Could only feel.
Baleck worked me through it, his mouth and fingers gentling but not stopping. Drawing it out until I was gasping and trembling and completely wrung out.
When I finally came back to myself, boneless and panting on the bench, he was pressing soft kisses to my inner thigh. His fingers had withdrawn, and he was just…holding me. Grounding me.
“Holy shit,” I managed.
He looked up at me and grinned. The expression was pure masculine satisfaction. “Good?”
“That’s an understatement.” My voice was hoarse.
He moved up my body, dropping kisses on my stomach, between my breasts, my throat. When he reached my mouth, I kissed him deeply, tasting myself on his tongue. It should have been strange but it wasn’t. It felt intimate. Right.
My hand moved between us, reaching for the fastenings of his pants. I wanted to touch him. Wanted to give him even a fraction of the pleasure he’d just given me.
“Iris—” His hand caught my wrist gently but firmly.
“Let me,” I said against his mouth. “Please.”
“I can’t.” The words came out ragged. “If you touch me right now, I won’t last. And I want our first time to be when we’re safe. When I can take my time with you properly.”
I looked down between us. I could see the outline of his cock clearly—hard and thick—and my mouth watered. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” He pressed his forehead to mine.
“I need to wait. For you. For us.” He took a shaky breath.
“Trust me, I want nothing more than for you to touch me. I want to bury myself inside you right now. To feel you come apart around me. But not here. Not like this.” He let out a quiet chuckle.
“Understand that I have not done this before, with anyone.”
I blinked up at him. “You’re a virgin?”
“Is that so hard to believe?” He grinned. “Most Destrans don’t experience strong sexual desire for another until they find their mate.”
“I didn’t know that,” I said, genuinely surprised. “That’s not in the reports.”
He ran a finger over my nipple. “There is much about my kind that isn’t in the reports.”
I shivered. “I assumed since you’re, well, since you look like you do, and you’re very good at connecting with people that you, um…” Before meeting this male, I’d never struggled to speak plainly. But now, I couldn’t get a clear sentence out. Especially this awkward, uncomfortable one.
But Baleck just laughed and pulled me closer. “Iris, despite what you thought, I do not leave a history of sexual conquests wherever I go. You are my sexual history, and I would like my first time to be someplace safe and comfortable.”
The restraint in his voice made my chest tight. He was holding back because he wanted our first time to be special. And if I were to read into his words, because he was a little nervous.
“Okay,” I whispered.
He kissed me again, slow and deep, then rolled to the side. He pulled me against his chest, and I went willingly, tucking myself against him. His arm came around me, holding me close.
I could feel his heart pounding. Feel tension pulsing tight through his body. The evidence of his arousal pressed against my hip, but he made no move to address it.
“You’re amazing,” I said quietly.
His chest rumbled with a soft laugh. “I was going to say the same about you.”
“I’ve never…” I trailed off, not sure how to articulate what I was feeling. “That was different. I don’t even have words.”
“Good.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “You deserve to feel pleasure like that. To be worshipped.”
The word made me shiver. Worshipped. Like I was something sacred rather than something broken and scarred.
We lay there in silence for a few minutes, our breathing gradually slowing. I traced idle patterns on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart under my palm. The scar I’d touched earlier was raised under my fingers, and I followed its path absently.
“We should try to rest,” Baleck said eventually. “We’ll need our strength tomorrow.”
He was right. Tomorrow we’d have to sneak past Brakken patrols, make our way back to the Raycer, and get back to Rezor’s compound without being caught or killed. The odds weren’t great, but we had something worth fighting for beyond just survival.
“I can almost feel the gears whirring in your head,” I said. “Tell me your plan.”
He shifted slightly. “The Brakken don’t see well in bright sunlight, like you said earlier, so we wait until midmorning when the sun is highest. That gives us the best advantage.”
“They’ll have patrols around the ruins regardless.”
“Yes. But they’ll be hampered. We’ll move quickly and quietly. Avoid open spaces. Use the shadows.” His hand stroked down my back in a soothing rhythm. “The Raycer is hidden about two kilometers from here, in a ridge on the eastern side of the ruins. We can make it if we’re smart.”
“What about the ship overhead?”
“I imagine that if it could track us, it would have already. We’re not that far underground. They’re relying on ground patrols and visual scans.” He paused. “Your cybernetic eye—can it see Brakken heat signatures?”
“Yes. Through most barriers, up to about ten meters.”
“Then you’ll be our early warning system. You spot them before they spot us, and we navigate around them.”
It was a solid plan. Not foolproof, but better than running blind. I nodded against his chest.
“We should sleep in shifts,” I said. “One person on watch.”
“No, you sleep. I’ll keep watch.” He reached for his clothes.
“Baleck—”
“Between the two of us, you are the more effective warrior,” he said, and I detected no strain to his ego when he said this.
“You need to be rested up, in case we need to battle our way out of here.” His tone left no room for argument as he quickly dressed.
“Please, Iris. Sleep. It’s not long until dawn. ”
I wanted to protest. To insist I could handle a watch shift. But exhaustion was creeping through my limbs, heavy and insistent. The adrenaline from the rescue, the escape, and what we’d just done together was wearing off, leaving me hollow.
“Fine,” I conceded, but I also snatched up my clothing and began pulling them on. Nothing about our situation was secure and neither of us wanted to be surprised in the nude. “But you will wake me up if anything happens.”
“I will.”
With both of us dressed, we settled on the bench together, my back to his chest. It wasn’t the most comfortable position—the metal was hard and unyielding—but his body was warm against mine, and his arm around my waist made me feel safe.
Safe. When had I ever felt truly safe?
“Iris?”
“Mmm?”
“Thank you for trusting me. With your body. With your scars.” His voice was quiet. “I know that wasn’t easy for you.”
My throat went tight. “Thank you for making it worth it.”
He pressed a kiss to my shoulder, right over the worst of the chemical burn scars. Tears pricked my eyes but I blinked them away. I was too tired to process any more emotions. This was more “feelings” than I’d experienced in years, and that, too, added to my exhaustion. I felt a little wrung out.
“Sleep,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”
And somehow, impossibly, I did. I closed my eyes and let myself drift, secure in the knowledge that he was watching over me.
For the first time in longer than I could remember, I wasn’t alone.