Chapter 22
The heavy metal door hissed shut behind them, sealing them in. Raaevik didn't set her down gently. He let her slide down the solid, heat-radiating wall of his chest, the friction burning through her clothes until her boots finally hit the deck.
And then his arms clamped around her.
There was no slow, romantic buildup. No gentle seduction. His mouth crashed down over hers in a bruising, desperate clash of teeth and lips.
Fuck, yes.
She opened for him instantly, her fingers digging into his bare shoulders to anchor herself against the heavy muscle.
Backing her up, he walked her across the room until her back hit the wall. He broke the kiss just long enough to drag his mouth down the side of her throat.
"Mine," he grated out, nipping at the sensitive skin right over her pulse point. "Only mine."
"Yes," she gasped, tilting her head to give him better access. "Oh god… yes."
His big hands found the fastenings of her top. He didn't bother with finesse. Fabric tore, the ruined material dropping to the floor in a puddle around her feet. The cool air of the room hit her heated skin a moment before his huge, callused hands covered her breasts.
She moaned as she arched into his touch. Her hips rocked automatically, grinding against the thick, heavy ridge of his erection trapped behind his leathers.
"I need you inside me," she ordered. "Right fucking now."
"Demanding little female," he growled, but his hands were already at the waistband of her pants.
He shoved them down, fingers sliding over her hips with a rough, possessive heat that made her already dampened panties soak through completely.
The panties followed, and he knelt to help her step out of them and her boots.
He looked up, his gaze pinning hers as his lips trailed a searing path up her thigh. His lips brushed the sensitive skin right at the crest, a rough tease that made her hips jerk.
Surging up, he gripped her bare thighs and lifted her. Instinct took over. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she locked her ankles behind his back.
He held her there easily, his darkened eyes blazing with a feral intensity that sent a shiver of excitement and arousal down her spine.
His gaze locked onto hers, dark and possessive. Holding her pinned against the wall with one massive arm, he brought his free hand up. Sliding two thick fingers into his mouth, he closed his lips around them. The slick, wet sound sent a spike of pure heat straight to her core.
Holy fuck. If he didn't touch her right this second, she was going to spontaneously combust.
Dropping his hand, he slid it into the narrow space between their bodies. Rough fingertips brushed over her heated skin, parting the swollen lips of her pussy. At the touch, she arched off the wall, hips rocking.
More. She needed more.
He found her clit, and she gasped. Instead of giving her the hard pressure she craved, he traced the sensitive bundle of nerves in a maddeningly slow circle. A whimper tore from her throat.
"Please," she whimpered, tightening her legs around his waist.
He didn't speed up, just teased her. Circling and stroking, he watched her as she completely unravelled in his arms.
Oh god, the bastard knew exactly what he was doing. His lips quirked in a small smile as he teased her clit, dragging her right to the edge before leaving her hanging there, practically vibrating out of her own skin.
Then, twisting his wrist, he slid two thick, saliva-slicked fingers deep inside her.
She cried out, nails digging half-moons into the corded muscle of his shoulders.
He stretched her, scissoring his fingers and pumping them in and out of her slick heat.
Hard, relentless thrusts. Every drag of those thick digits against her sensitive walls sent a heavy, burning ache straight through her core.
A low, feral growl rumbled up from the center of his chest. "Fuck," he grated out, burying his face in the curve of her neck. "You're so damn tight, little female. But gods... You feel so draanthing good."
He pressed his thumb on her clit, working the swollen peak in time with his deep, rhythmic thrusts.
The friction was torture. The pressure built low in her belly, winding her tight like an industrial spring. Holy shit. She couldn't catch her breath.
"Raaevik," she gasped, the word breaking into a sob.
"Let it go, kelarris," he rumbled, his teeth grazing her collarbone. "I have you."
He stroked deeper, tapping her clit with his thumb.
That did it. The orgasm hit and took her under.
White-hot heat exploded through her, shattering her control entirely. Throwing her head back, she screamed his name as she clamped down hard around his fingers, her pussy pulsing in uncontrollable waves.
Fuck. Nothing had ever hit her like this.
It wasn't just a physical release. Something slammed through her that had nothing to do with his fingers and everything to do with the man behind them.
For a single, blinding second, she felt him everywhere…
not just inside her body but somewhere deeper, somewhere she didn't have a name for.
She was flying apart, and his arms were the only things holding her together.
Panting, she leaned her head back against the wall. Her heart thundered against her ribs, and sweat slicked her skin, cooling rapidly in the chilled air of the room. Her legs trembled where they locked around his waist, the muscles completely turned to jelly.
But he didn't let her fall. Supporting her weight effortlessly with one arm, he slowly withdrew his fingers from her slick heat.
Holding her gaze, he brought his hand up. Without saying a word, he parted his lips and slid the two wet, glistening fingers past sharp teeth.
Oh, sweet… holy—
He drew them out slowly, then licked them clean. She bit her lip.
Ohmygod.
He pulled his hand away, and a smile spread across his lips. A dark, thoroughly male smile. "Perfect."
He peeled her off the wall. Catching her behind the knees, he hauled her up against his chest and crossed the room in three long strides. The mattress gave beneath her as he lowered her onto the sheets.
Stepping back, he began undressing.
Satisfaction, thick and heavy, curled low in her belly as she watched him. They didn't have to hide anymore. No more locked doors, no more looking over their shoulders… this massive, lethal alien warrior belonged to her.
And he was glorious. Broad shoulders, heavy slabs of muscle, skin flushed with heat and battle adrenaline.
"You're fucking beautiful," she murmured, eyes tracing the hard lines of his torso.
His expression tightened. A wince flickered across his face, and he dropped his chin, lifting a large hand to his chest. His fingers dragged over a massive, jagged black scar covering the center of his chest. It looked like cooled magma, thick, raised, and completely unnatural against his skin.
"Not anymore," he muttered under his breath.
Like hell.
Scrambling up, she pushed herself to her knees on the mattress. She didn't let him back away. "Bullshit. What happened?"
His hand dropped. "I took a bolt to the chest." His voice was flat, stripping the horror down to facts. "It was a fatal shot. I looked down and saw my own heart struggling to beat in the ruins of my ribs."
Ice laced her veins. Fuck. He'd almost died.
"But you didn't die," she argued, reaching out for him.
"The rage took over," he growled, stepping right to the edge of the bed so his thighs bracketed her knees.
"I needed to get to you. The Izaean blood in my veins turned to this.
" He gestured to the blackened tissue. "It became the scar.
Healed the damage instantly so I could keep killing. So I could get to you."
Her eyes widened.
Slipping her hands up his torso, she flattened her palms against his chest. The black scar was raised and rough under her fingertips. It wasn't ugly. Not to her.
She leaned forward and pressed her lips right over the center. "Then it's the most beautiful part of you," she breathed.
A shudder tore through him. Growling, he slid his hand under her jaw and tipped her head up. His violet eyes burned, practically glowing in the cabin's dim light.
"I love you, kelarris," he murmured, then stepped back and carried on undressing.
He didn't bother with finesse. His weapons belt hit the floor with a dull thud, the metal buckles clanking against the deck, and then he went for the fly of his leathers.
Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his leathers, he yanked them down over his narrow hips. The heavy material pooled around his ankles, and he stepped out of his boots to kick them aside, leaving him entirely bare.
Then he stood up, and her thoughts scattered as his cock snapped upward with a heavy slap against his abdomen.
Holy fucking shit.
Her mouth went dry, her heart stuttering against her ribs. It wasn't just big. It was a goddamned weapon. Huge, thick as her wrist, and impossibly wide, the thick ridge arched proudly up against the washboard muscles of his flat stomach. A heavy, dark purple vein throbbed along the length.
Oh God, there was no way in hell that was fitting inside her. None. But… it already had. In the dance studio back on Devan Station.
His gaze tracked her wide-eyed stare, his lips quirking as he stepped up to the edge of the bed.
"Do you like what you see, kelarris?" he rumbled, the male arrogance in his deep voice doing nothing to help the rapid, fluttering heat tightening her chest or the ache between her thighs.
"I'm pretty sure you're going to break me," she blurted out. "But sure, it's very impressive. Do I get a medal if I survive?"
Chuckling, he braced his hands on either side of her hips. The mattress dipped under his weight as he crawled over her. He was all wide, heavily muscled chest, broad shoulders, and eyes that pinned hers like she was the only thing in the universe.
"You will survive," he purred, bending his head to graze his lips along her jaw. "I will take it slow. I promise."