Chapter 18
IRIS
Iyanked Baleck into his hut and shut the door behind us.
The space was small and sparse—a single room with a sleeping platform built into one corner, a table with two chairs, storage compartments built into the walls, and a door that presumably led to a bathroom.
Everything was clean and just a little unorganized.
A few articles of clothing lay heaped in a corner.
The bed was made, but hastily. A stack of data pads sat on the table with a few more scattered on the surface.
It was so perfectly him that something in my chest squeezed tight.
“This is it,” Baleck said, sounding almost apologetic as he scooped up the small pile of laundry. “Not much, but it’s mine.”
I turned to face him, and the vulnerability in his eyes made me forget about the room entirely.
We’d spent the last day running for our lives, hiding from Brakken patrols, and planning our escape.
But now, standing here in the privacy of his home, the adrenaline was fading and leaving something else in its wake.
Want. Raw and undeniable.
“It’s perfect,” I said, and meant it.
He moved closer, his hand coming up to cup my jaw. His thumb traced my cheekbone, gentle despite the calluses. “I was afraid I’d lost you. When I realized Vax had taken you—”
“But you didn’t.” I covered his hand with mine. “You found me.”
“I would have torn this planet apart looking for you.”
The intensity in his voice sent heat pooling low in my belly. I’d spent years keeping people at arm’s length, protecting myself from exactly this kind of vulnerability. But with Baleck, I didn’t want to protect myself. I wanted to fall.
“I need to clean up,” I said, because I was still covered in dust and sweat from our escape. “You probably do too.”
He nodded, his gaze dropping to my mouth. “There’s a shower. Water’s recycled but it works. I’ll get us something to drink.”
The bathroom was as utilitarian as the rest of the hut, but the water was hot and the pressure was decent. I stripped off my filthy clothes and stood under the spray, letting it wash away the grime of the ruins and the tension of the last twenty-four hours.
My body ached in a dozen places—bruises from being abducted, muscles sore from crouching in that underground chamber, cuts and scrapes from navigating the ruins. But underneath the pain was something else. Anticipation.
I wanted Baleck. I’d wanted him for longer than I cared to admit, and now there was nothing stopping us.
When I emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, I found him setting two cups on the small table. He’d pulled out what looked like locally made alcohol, amber-colored liquid that smelled faintly sweet.
“I don’t have much,” he said, gesturing to the drink. “But this is decent. The D’tran make it from some kind of fruit that grows in the valley.”
“I’m not picky.” I took the cup he offered and downed half of it in one swallow. It burned pleasantly, warming me from the inside.
Baleck’s gaze tracked over me, taking in the towel and my damp hair. His skin shifted through shades of blue and purple, and I was learning to read those colors. Desire. Need.
“Shower’s yours,” I said, my voice coming out rougher than intended.
He nodded and disappeared into the bathroom.
I heard the water start up again and took the opportunity to dig through the storage compartments until I found what looked like clothing.
I pulled out an oversized shirt that smelled like him—clean and masculine with an underlying musk that was pure D’tran—and slipped it on.
It fell to mid-thigh, the fabric soft against my skin. I’d left my underwear in the bathroom with my dirty clothes. If we were doing this, I wasn’t going to half-ass it.
I was sitting on the edge of his sleeping platform when he emerged, and the sight of him made my mouth go dry.
He’d put on a pair of loose pants made from thin fabric that hung low on his hips. And that was it. No shirt. Just miles of blue skin stretched over lean muscle. His broad chest and scarred abdomen were ridged with definition that came from actual physical labor, not a gym.
And the pants did absolutely nothing to hide the thick ridge of his erection jutting against the fabric.
“Fuck,” I said, because subtlety had never been my strong suit.
His mouth curved into a smile that was pure male satisfaction. “You’re wearing my shirt.”
“You have a problem with that?”
“Hmm.” He crossed the room in three strides and stopped in front of me, close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. His eyes twinkled. “Yeah. I’m going to need that back.”
I reached out and traced the line of muscle running down his stomach, feeling it jump under my touch. “You’re going to have to take it off me, then.”
He caught my wrist, his grip firm but not painful. “So uncooperative.”
I grinned, even though I was getting more turned on by the moment. “Stop talking and do something about it.”
He growled—actually growled—and then his mouth was on mine, hot and demanding. I opened for him immediately, tasting the sweetness of the alcohol on his tongue. He kissed like he fought, with total commitment and zero hesitation.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down with me onto the sleeping platform. He came willingly, his weight settling over me in a way that should have felt confining but instead felt right. Safe and dangerous all at once.
His hands found the hem of my borrowed shirt and slid underneath, palms rough against my ribs. I arched into the touch, wanting more. Needing more.
“This okay?” he asked against my mouth, always checking, always making sure.
“Yes. God, yes.”
He pulled back just enough to yank the shirt over my head, leaving me bare beneath him. For a moment, he just looked at me, his gaze tracking over my body with an intensity that made me shiver.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice rough. “So damn beautiful.”
I wasn’t. I was all sharp angles and scars, muscle and bone with none of the softness men usually went for. My face was “bitchy,” I’d been told, and I didn’t put in any effort to change that. But the way he looked at me made me feel like the most desirable woman in the galaxy.
“Your turn,” I said, hooking my fingers in the waistband of his pants.
He helped me push them down, and then he was naked above me, his cock thick and hard, the head flushed darker than the rest of him. I wrapped my hand around him, feeling the weight and heat of him, and he made a sound that was almost pained.
“Iris—”
“Tell me what you want,” I said, stroking him slowly from base to tip.
“You. Just you.” His hips flexed into my grip, seeking more friction. “I want to make you feel good. Want to hear you say my name when you come.”
Heat flooded through me at his words. I guided him closer, spreading my legs to make room for him between them. “Then make me.”
He kissed me again, one hand sliding down between us to where I was already wet and ready. His fingers found my clit and circled it with just the right amount of pressure, and I gasped into his mouth.
“Like that?” he asked.
“More.”
He complied, increasing the pressure until pleasure sparked through me. I could feel myself getting wetter, my body preparing for him. His fingers slid lower, teasing my entrance, and I rolled my hips against his hand.
He pushed one finger inside me, then another, stretching me carefully. I was tight, but like the night before, my body welcomed the intrusion. I clenched around his fingers, wanting more, needing more.
“You’re so tight,” he groaned. “So perfect.”
I reached between us and wrapped my hand around his cock again, stroking him firmly. He was hot and hard in my palm, and I could feel him throbbing with need.
“I want you inside me,” I said. “Now.”
He pulled his fingers free and positioned himself at my entrance. For a moment, we just looked at each other, both of us breathing hard.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
He pushed forward slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size. The stretch was intense, but it was exactly what I needed. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him deeper, taking him all the way in one smooth thrust.
We both groaned at the sensation. He filled me completely, stretching me in the best possible way. For a moment, neither of us moved, just savoring the feeling of being joined.
Then he started to move, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. The angle was perfect, hitting something deep inside me that made sparks shoot up my spine. I met him thrust for thrust, our bodies finding a rhythm that was hard and fast and exactly what we both needed.
His hands gripped my hips, holding me steady as he drove into me. I could see the muscles in his arms and chest flexing with each movement, see the concentration on his face as he fought to maintain control.
“Harder,” I told him, because I didn’t want gentle. I wanted to feel this tomorrow.
He complied, his hips snapping against mine with enough force to make the platform creak. The sound of skin against skin filled the small hut, punctuated by our harsh breathing and the occasional curse.
I raked my nails down his back, watching his skin ripple and shift colors under my touch. He liked it rough too, I realized.
“Iris,” he groaned, his voice strained. “I’ve wanted this so bad.”
“Make me come, Baleck.”
He shifted his angle slightly, grinding against my clit with each thrust, and pleasure exploded through me. I was close, so close, just needed a little more—
He slid one hand between us, his thumb finding my clit and rubbing tight circles that sent me flying over the edge.
My orgasm hit like a freight train, pleasure crashing through me in waves that made my whole body convulse. I cried out, probably loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was the feeling of Baleck inside me and the pleasure tearing me apart.
He followed seconds later, his rhythm faltering as he came with a roar that definitely carried beyond the walls of the hut. I felt him pulse inside me, hot and perfect, and the sensation triggered another smaller wave of pleasure that left me shaking.
When it was over, he collapsed on top of me, both of us breathing like we’d run a marathon. His weight was heavy but not crushing, and I wrapped my arms around him to keep him close.
“That was…” he started, then trailed off like words failed him.
“Yeah,” I agreed, because I knew exactly what he meant.
After a moment, he rolled to the side, pulling me with him so we were facing each other on the narrow sleeping platform. His hand traced idle patterns on my hip, and I watched the colors shift across his skin—blues and purples and hints of green that I was starting to associate with contentment.
“Stay,” he said quietly. “Tonight. Tomorrow. As long as you want.”
I should have felt trapped by that. Should have wanted to run. But instead, I felt something settle into place inside me, like a puzzle piece I hadn’t known was missing.
“Okay,” I said.
His smile was brighter than the sun. He pulled a thin blanket over us and tucked me against his chest, one arm wrapped around my waist.
I closed my eyes and let exhaustion pull me under. Tomorrow we’d deal with anything else Sophie needed from us. The Brakken and their conspirators were the ones who’d be facing fierce fallout from Vax’s betrayal.
But tonight, I was exactly where I needed to be.
I fell asleep to the sound of Baleck’s heartbeat, strong and steady beneath my ear, and for the first time in longer than I could remember, I knew I was safe.