Chapter 12
Robin
––––––––
Dad finds me at the hall closet.
Ja’Lin got up and moving again maybe an hour ago, albeit a little more gingerly under Healy’s orders. Na’Ren has taken him back to the ship and is conferring with their crew. Healy and Nita and Julian have left.
I am alone, staring at shelf upon shelf of relics. Artifacts of my people, I suppose. I pick one up and examine it.
The object is long and appears to be made of a warmer metal than the others. Brass, maybe, if such a material exists on Gamma Andromedae. The tube of it is interrupted with dials and spanners in a way that is reminiscent of the tools of ancient seafarers.
I am still inspecting it when I hear Dad’s footsteps behind me. He shuffles a little now, despite how eager he is to excavate the fields all around the house. His footfalls slow at my side, and when I turn, he is smiling at me.
We don’t speak. There’s too much to say and not enough words to hold it all. So we let the quiet drag on for a while.
“The air was always too dry here,” I say finally, breaking the silence. “It’s part of why I went out to Washington.”
My dad nods. “Yes, your mother used to say the same thing.” After a beat, he adds, “I’m glad you went, you know.”
My throat tightens, and I have to swallow against it.
“I’m glad I came back.”
Dad smiles then, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners, and it spears me.
“My sweet boy,” he says, “you are so much like her.”
He squeezes my shoulder once, and then he slips out of the room.
I hear the sound of him and Na’Ren passing on the stairs and bidding each other goodnight. When Na’Ren settles at my side, I do not need to look up. I only reach out and thread our fingers together.
He reaches for the Andromedan device in my hand, and I pass it to him.
“Ah,” he says. “A fine choice. Come with me.”
He tugs on my hand and I follow him down the steps. In the living room, he lifts a quilt from the couch. My grandmother made it, my dad’s mom, and it looks charmingly incongruous draped over Na’Ren’s muscled arm.
He leads me out of the house. We trek through the damp grass and out into the field. When we are far enough away that the lights of the house are distant twinkles, we stop. Na’Ren lays out the quilt and we sit.
I realize we have stopped near the honey shack. Near the beehives. The bees are quiet now, tucked away for the cool night.
Na’Ren hands me the device.
“This is a chromatoscope,” he says. “Hold it up like a telescope. Look through this end, and aim it at any star.”
The object is heavy in my hands, its metal body chilled by the night air. I lift it to my eye.
Through the viewfinder, color explodes out from the stars. Light distorts through the atmospheres that shroud the celestial bodies. Pinks and blues and purples, spiraling out and away against the black expanse of space. The sky has never looked like this before.
I can’t stop myself from laughing out loud. I’ve always stared longingly up at the stars, always loved the diamond-scattered night sky out here on Dad’s farm. But this...
“In the upper right quadrant of the sky,” Na’Ren says, “locate a star cluster surrounded by a red halo.”
I raise the chromatoscope to my eye.
“Found it.”
“Good. Fifteen degrees north-northeast of that cluster, you will find another star group.”
I adjust the scope, scanning the sky, and then I release a startled breath. Colored light spirals out from a star like spun gold.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Yes,” Na’Ren agrees, nodding. “That is where I am from.”
“That’s your home.”
Na’Ren’s cool fingertips find the back of my neck. He strokes, gently up and down, scratching up into my hair. It takes all of my effort not to purr .
“No,” Na’Ren says, “that is where I was born. This is my home.”
Then he leans down and kisses me.
This kiss is different from the kiss in the honey shack. In the honey shack, I was desperate. Out of my mind with need for him, swimming in a chemically altered state of desire.
This is...
I know what this is. I know what my brain is telling me, what it feels like to have Na’Ren’s mouth against mine, to feel him pressing me back and down onto the quilt.
Na’Ren pauses, holding me half-reclined. His dark eyes search my face, catching on my swollen lips and lingering before holding my gaze. He sighs.
“Robin-like-the-Bird, if I am making assumptions, if I am asking too much—”
“I love you.”
The words are out of my mouth before I can think. My cheeks blaze, but I shake away the embarrassment. Let’s be real, my time for embarrassment is past. I touched alien dick mere hours after meeting this man. This incredible man who has opened the truth of the universe to me. This man who has touched me like I am precious.
Embarrassment is a weak, flickering flame compared the warmth of love blazing inside of me.
Na’Ren’s brows draw together as he looks down at me.
“You said the urgency would fade. The pheromones wore off hours ago, I think. And I know that what’s left in their place is... bigger .”
Na’Ren watches me, his dark eyes serious.
“Ren, you said the intensity would fade and what was left would be nothing or everything.” I swallow. “It’s everything. You’re everything. I love you.”
His face softens, his fingers splayed over my spine.
“My people say,” Na’Ren starts and then pauses. He wets his lips with his tongue. “My people say that mating is not for pleasure. That it is only biology. We are very practical, you see.”
“Sure,” I agree with a serious nod.
“We speak, mind to mind, with each other—as you have done with me. This is possible through the pheromones our bodies produce, and the way they communicate with each other.”
His thumb traces a lazy line along a single rib.
“They say that these chemicals, no matter how powerful, are nothing without kinship, without feeling to serve as scaffolding.”
“Uh huh,” I say, my grin widening.
Na’Ren narrows his eyes. “I am being very serious,” he says, “I am telling you about my culture.”
“Oh, I understand.” I crane my neck up to press a quick peck of a kiss to Na’Ren’s lips. “What else are you telling me?”
One of Na’Ren’s big hands curves over my forehead and presses me back down to the blanket. I revel in his warmth, his weight. His reassurance.
“I am telling you, Robin-like-the-Bird,” Na’Ren says, staring intently down at me, “that I love you.”
My eyes prickle. The tears that I have been holding back since last night swell and begin to fall. They tumble down my lashes, landing hot against my cheekbones. I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, trying to scrub away the damp streaks.
“Robin?” Na’Ren’s hand tenses against my back. “What is wrong?”
“I’m sorry.” Joy and sorrow blend together in my throat, clouding my voice. “I’ve just been lonely for so long.”
“I see.”
Gently, Na’Ren pries my hands away from my face. “Then please allow me to be clear. I will care for you, Robin. I will keep you. And I will continue to love you long after the stars have blinked out of existence. You will not be lonely anymore.”
He leans over me and kisses me again, this time deeper. Harder. He lets me taste the honeyed flavor of him, and then he’s kissing my chin. Sucking on my throat. Licking the notch between my collarbones.
I love you , his voice says inside my head as he unbuttons my shirt.
Sweet bird , as he pushes it off my shoulders, down my arms. As he slides cool palms over the flare of my rib cage.
Beloved , as he slides my jeans off my hips.
“Oh,” and this is out loud as he hungrily eyes my hard dick. “Oh, yes.”
He strokes me again, gentler than our encounter in the honey shack. Tenderly. Like he’s—like he’s making love to me.
“Robin,” he says, his hand still sliding up and down my shaft, and it’s hard to focus on his words when he is touching me this way. “I understand that Terrans take their pleasure quite seriously.”
A grin tugs at my mouth. “Something like that.”
“Then, surely,” he says, his hips pressing down against my thigh, reminding me of how big he is, how hard he gets, “your kind has more varied approaches to achieving pleasure—”
“I want to be in your mouth,” I gasp out.
Na’Ren draws in a very controlled breath and lets it out in a gust.
“At your command,” he says, and he leans down.
His mouth is cool and wet. I jerk up into him, and he groans. His tongue is a firm pressure on my shaft, grinding against me, as if he’s stroking me with his mouth. He sucks and pulls, his hands sliding beneath my ass and lifting me, my dick sliding deeper and deeper until he swallows around me.
I shout, a ragged sound.
Na’Ren’s hands massage my hips. They slide to curve around my quavering thighs, and as he lets me back down, my dick pops out of his mouth. Saliva and slick stretch between us, catching the faint light of stars until the line snaps.
He stares at me, looking every bit as wrecked as I feel, even though I haven’t come. Even though I’m still achingly hard. He stares at me with a wet mouth and wide eyes, and then he swabs out a tongue to catch the stray saliva before he says, “And what else, my bird?”
A desperate whine escapes my throat.
“Take your pants off.”
Na’Ren releases me and obeys.
I don’t wait. I move my hand beneath my thigh and finger my entrance. He wants to know what else Terrans do? Then I will show him.
Na’Ren stills. Watches me. Then he nods.
“Yes,” he breathes, “I see.”
He raises my hips again, higher and higher, and his tongue slides along the length of the finger I’m using to touch myself.
“Ren!”
“Shh,” he says, his breath ghosting over my skin.
Then, I love you . Na’Ren’s voice caresses the inside of my mind, a tongue of smoke and heat. I belong to you.
He laps at the dripping head of my dick in between words, and when his tongue ventures downward, my shout reaches up to the stars.
The thick bluntness of his tongue sweeps over my hole and presses. Gentle strokes until I am babbling, my eyes prickling again with tears.
“Please,” I beg him. And, “More,” and, “Ren.”
“Yes,” he agrees. “Yes,” and, “yes.”
He opens me with his tongue, unashamed, only focused on my pleasure, and when I can’t take anymore, I press the heel of my palm to his shoulder and push him away.
He looks at me with wild eyes. Swollen lips. Fingers digging into the muscle of my thighs.
“What else?” he asks.
I swallow against the hot surge of desire. “I want you inside me.”
His lips part. He breathes: in and out, slow and steady, a self-soothing action.
“Show me,” he says.
Pushing myself up on my elbows, I reach for him. His hard cock pulses toward me, and I wrap my fingers around it. The barbs of it are already smoothed down and leaking clear, slick fluid. Ready for me.
I spread my legs and guide him closer.
Na’Ren looks down, skeptically. “This seems unwise.”
“It usually does.” I say, and then I guide him to my entrance.
He’s blunt and thick, careful and gentle, and he waits while I get used to just the press of him. He holds himself with one hand, the other hand resting on my inner thigh. The touch keeps me spread for him.
When I nod, Na’Ren pushes slowly forward.
I stretch around him and groan. His natural slick helps him slide in, millimeter by millimeter, but he’s still a lot. Na’Ren is patient. I breathe through it.
By the time the flared head is fully inside of me, my body is on fire. I am burning up, my skin damp with sweat, my hair plastered to my forehead, and Na’Ren reaches up to brush it away.
He asks, Are you mine?
I nod frantically, a frenetic energy pulsing through me, those jolts of lightning that I had nearly forgotten. But they are never far away when I am near Na’Ren. They shoot through me at the slightest touch of his hand.
“I’m yours,” I tell him, and press down until he is seated deeper inside my body. “I think I’ve been waiting for you.”
Na’Ren groans. He glides the rest of the way inside, and I think I could break. Just shatter to pieces around him, ground to diamond dust by the sheer force of his presence.
“I am yours,” he echoes.
“Good,” I pant into the air between us. “Then give me all of you.”
Na’Ren looks at me, quizzical. “I assure you, you have everything possible.”
“No.” I rest the flat of my palm against his tensing stomach, right where I can feel the effort he expends to keep his barbs retracted. “Stop holding back.”
He watches me. Considers.
“Ah,” he says.
Then I feel the tension seep out of his muscles as he releases his barbs.
The gentle undulations lift and press against me.
It is a softer intrusion that I expected, but I remember running my fingers over them in the honey shack, right before Na’Ren came. I know they won’t hurt me. I know Ren won’t hurt me.
I sigh at the pressure of him, pushing me from the inside.
Then he starts to move.
The soft barbs slide. They stroke and massage, and I am going to come before we even get started.
“ God ,” I breathe out, “why did I waste my time with Terran boys?”
His laugh is throaty, a destroyed sound. “I am not wasting my time,” he says.
I tip my hips just to make him gasp. “ Half- Terran,” I correct him.
“Details,” Na’Ren says, smiling. Then his hips snap sharply against me, and he groans. “I can’t—I need to—”
He doesn’t finish. He only moves hard, and I press back to meet each thrust. Whatever the Andromedan opinion on pleasure, I know he’s feeling it now. His fingers tighten around my hips, and his head falls back, his long, black hair swaying, his long, gorgeous throat exposed and vulnerable.
I think it’s the sight that sets off the bomb of my orgasm. It rockets through me, breaks the sound barrier, jangles my nerve endings. The white-hot euphoria of it sears a branching network of pleasure from my core to each tingling fingertip. A thousand ancient stars, exploding.
“Robin,” Na’Ren rasps, his hips still beating out a wild rhythm.
When he comes, I feel each barb tense inside me, and sharp, precise pleasure at each point of contact. Another lightning bolt pierces me, and my dick jolts again, more come spilling out onto my stomach. It splashes, hot and thick, and Na’Ren grips my hips so hard, I think he breaks the skin.
With his cock still spasming inside of me, Na’Ren leans forward to rest our foreheads together. Together, we breathe in ragged silence. He covers me completely, his body a shield, but over his shoulder, I can still see the night sky.
As our hearts slow and our breath steadies, Na’Ren scatters kisses across my face. Forehead, eyelids, cheekbones. Chin, lips, the bridge of my nose.
Each place his lips touch: A point of light. A newly birthed star. A light on a map telling us, This is home .