22. Clair
CLAIR
Varell’s words hung in the scented air, vibrating with implication.
“You must let her come on your tongue.”
Clair’s eyes flew open, the last tendrils of blissful anticipation snapping into sharp, panicked awareness. Her gaze locked onto Kaelus’s face, searching for his reaction, bracing for the hesitation, the polite demurral, the subtle disgust she’d learned to expect.
Her ex, James, had never wanted to go down on her.
He’d informed her that it was disgusting how wet she got and also that “going down there” just wasn’t his thing.
(Though of course, he expected plenty of blow jobs even though he never returned the favor.) So she wouldn’t have been surprised if Kaelus had refused to follow their host’s instructions.
Even though he’d spoken about wanting to taste her earlier, she was sure that was just dirty talk, meant to turn her on.
But what she saw when she looked up at the big Hybrid, made her breath catch in her throat.
There was no hesitation on his face—no polite distance. His golden eyes were heavy-lidded, the pupils black with feral hunger. His lips were parted, and as she watched, his fangs seemed to lengthen slightly.
He wasn’t looking at the task with clinical detachment or performative duty.
He was staring at the heart of her, at the glistening evidence of her arousal, with the single-minded intensity of a starved man presented with a feast. Raw, unmistakable hunger radiated from him, making her shiver with a mixture of fear and desire.
The memory of James’s voice, sneering and dismissive—“It’s gross how wet you get”—echoed like a ghost in her mind, but it was instantly drowned out by the visceral truth of Kaelus’s expression.
His desire was written in the taut lines of his jaw, in the way his chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. He wanted this.
He wanted her.
He leaned down, his large body blocking out the soft glow of the floating lights, until his mouth was beside her ear. His breath was hot against her skin.
“Is this all right with you, Lissa’ra?” he murmured, his voice a rough growl that vibrated straight through her body.
The pet name, spoken in that tone, unraveled her completely. It wasn’t just part of the act anymore—it felt like a claim.
“If… if you really want to,” she whispered back, the words barely audible, laced with the vulnerability of her old fear.
His eyes went lazy with a lust so deep it was almost sleepy. A slow, dangerous smile touched his lips.
“You have no idea how much I want to,” he growled, the promise in his voice making her shiver. “Just open yourself for me, and let me taste you.”
A moan, soft and utterly involuntary, escaped Clair’s lips and all her uncertainty melted away.
There was only need, trust, and an overwhelming desire to give him what he so clearly craved.
With a shuddering sigh, she spread her thighs even wider, arching her back slightly off the table, offering herself completely.
Kaelus was clearly eager to take her up on her offer—he knelt between her legs.
Clair couldn’t get over the sight of the big Hybrid kneeling to taste her. With his broad, muscular shoulders, his golden eyes, and fangs, he might have been a monster from a fairy tale…and yet she trusted him implicitly.
Varell’s shadow shifted on the other side of the screen, a mirror to their actions.
“Begin as you would if you were kissing your goddess’s lips,” he instructed, his voice a calm contrast to the storm building deep inside Clair. “Let your kiss be long, slow, and loving. Let her feel your worship in the press of your mouth to her sacred core.”
Kaelus obeyed. Despite his obvious eagerness, he didn’t dive in.
Instead, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her mound in a kiss that was deeply tender.
He held it—a warm, firm pressure that made her gasp.
Then he kissed her again, lower, on the outer lips of her pussy.
And then again…each kiss a deliberate caress that traced the shape of her sex.
Clair’s head fell back, a broken sound catching in her throat. No one had ever touched her like this—like she was something precious to be savored. She’d never had a man worship her this way before…and she found that she loved it.
“Now, use your tongue,” Varell continued. “Broad strokes first. Spread her open and taste her. Learn her flavor and the places that make her moan.”
Clair bit her lip to keep from moaning as Kaelus’s tongue swept over her in a long, flat, languid lick from the very base of her entrance all the way up to her throbbing clit.
“Oh, God…” she whimpered, her hands flying to fist in the silver fabric. Having his mouth on her was so much more intense than his fingers. It was hot, wet, and almost unbearably intimate.
He did it again, and again, lapping at her with a growing hunger, groaning low in his throat as he tasted her. The vibrations of the sound against her sensitive flesh made her hips jerk helplessly in response to the extra stimulation.
“Good,” Varell said from the other side of the screen. “Now, focus on your goddess’s jewel. Circle it…tease it…then suckle it gently.”
Kaelus’s mouth zeroed in on her clit. He circled it relentlessly with the tip of his tongue…fast then slow, a dizzying pattern that had Clair crying out, her back bowing off the table. Then he sealed his lips over her sensitive little button and sucked, gently at first, then with more pressure.
“Yes! Kaelus, please!” she begged, the words torn from her. She was a writhing, pleading mess, lost in a world of sensation.
This can’t be real! He can’t be really doing this! her mind chanted, a frantic counterpoint to the pleasure. This is too good. He’s too good at this. I’m going to die.
Her hands, which had been clutching the silver sheet on the massage table, found their way to his head.
Somehow, her fingers buried themselves in the thick, surprisingly soft strands of his dark hair.
Clair didn’t try to guide him—she simply held on, trying to anchor herself as he utterly devoured her.
Then he did something Varell hadn’t instructed.
As his tongue lashed her clit, one of his hands, slick with oil and her own juices, slid down. She felt the gentle pressure of two long, thick fingers at her entrance. He paused for a fraction of a second, a silent question, and she bucked her hips in answer, a wordless yes, yes, now.
Kaelus pushed inside.
The stretch was exquisite—a perfect fullness that complemented the attention he was giving her clit. He began to move them, a slow in-and-out, and then…he curled them. He pressed upward, deep inside her, rubbing a spot that made her hips buck as a bolt of unexpected pleasure shot through her.
“Oh…oh my God!” Clair gasped.
Stars exploded behind her eyelids as he caressed and massaged her G-spot.
Clair could barely believe it. That mythical, elusive place that James had never even tried to find, that she’d convinced herself was a fantasy for women in romance novels…
Kaelus had found it effortlessly. He rubbed it with a steady motion of his fingers while his mouth worked her clit, sucking and flicking as she moaned and tugged his hair.
“Oh my God, Kaelus… there—right there! Don’t stop…please, don’t stop!” she heard herself moaning, her voice high and desperate.
Her orgasm wasn’t just building—it was detonating—a supernova gathering deep inside her. She was pulling on his hair, grinding herself shamelessly against his mouth and his hand, completely consumed by her need for release.
I can’t believe this, her mind chanted. I can’t believe how good he is! I’m going to come so hard I’ll break apart!
“Come for me, Lissa’ra,” he growled against her, his voice muffled by her flesh, deep with command. “Let go. Give it to me.”
It was the final permission that her body needed to let go. The coil in her belly, wound tighter than she’d ever known possible, suddenly snapped and Clair started to come.
Her climax washed over her—it wasn’t a wave—it was a tsunami, crashing through her with violent, ecstatic force.
She cried out—a raw, unfiltered sound of pure pleasure, her body shaking uncontrollably. Her inner muscles clamped down on the big Hybrid’s fingers in rhythmic, milking pulses, and through the blinding white fire of her orgasm, she was aware of him riding her through it.
His tongue kept working her clit, gentling but persistent and his fingers kept massaging that glorious, magic spot, drawing out her pleasure until she was nearly sobbing with the intensity of it.
Clair thought dimly that her grip in his hair must surely be painful but he only groaned louder, drinking every drop of her release as he guided her through her orgasm.
When the pleasure finally ebbed, she collapsed back onto the table, utterly spent, boneless and floating in a haze of aftershocks. She was vaguely aware of Kaelus carefully withdrawing his fingers, of the soft, wet sounds as he gave her one last, lingering lick that made her shiver.
Then his weight shifted. He rose from the floor and came to the head of the massage table.
He leaned over her, his face hovering above hers.
He was flushed, his lips swollen and gleaming with her juices, his eyes burning with a possessive fire.
He smelled of her and of spice and heat and of pure male need.
Without a word, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her hungrily.
A bolt of pure heat shot through Clair as she tasted herself on his lips—salty, hot, and intimately sweet. It was the flavor of her own pleasure, given to her by him. It was hot and primal and she loved it.
She kissed him back eagerly, opening her mouth to him, licking his lips, tangling her tongue with his and sharing the secret proof of what he’d just done to her.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing as if they’d run a marathon, Kaelus rested his forehead against hers. His golden eyes held hers, and the look in them was no longer just hunger. It was a deep, aching yearning that made Clair’s heart fist in her chest.
“Gods,” he breathed, his voice ragged with emotion. “I wish you were really mine, Lissa’ra.”
The words hung in the air between them, more binding than any vow they’d fake-sworn for their cover. In the dim, perfumed room, with the shadows of their satisfied hosts moving quietly on the other side of the screen, the line between mission and reality seemed to blur dangerously.
Clair wasn’t sure what was true anymore and she didn’t care. She only knew that she’d never come so hard in her life and she had her grumpy, grouchy lab partner to thank for it.
She wished they never had to let each other go.
But you will have to let go. Once you find the cure for the Savage Syndrome and go back to the Mother Ship, you’ll have to pretend none of this ever happened, whispered a little voice in her head.
The realization made her sad and when Varell said,
“Very good, Kaelus. Tonight you have taken an important step in learning about the worship of your goddess,” Clair didn’t even crack a smile or shoot the big Hybrid a teasing look.
Somehow, she didn’t feel like teasing her grumpy lab partner at all tonight.
In fact, she suddenly felt right on the edge of tears.
What was wrong with her? She didn’t even feel like putting her dress back on.
Instead, she wrapped the soft silver cloth that was draped over the massage table around herself and turned on her side.
“What’s wrong, Lissa’ra?”
Kaelus’s deep voice made her look up. She saw concern in his golden eyes and tried to look more perky.
“Wrong? Nothing—what makes you think something’s wrong?” she asked.
“This.” He touched her cheek gently with one finger and Clair saw that his fingertip came away wet. “You’re crying,” he murmured, looking worried. “Did I hurt you in some way?”
“What? No. No, of course not.” Clair shook her head. “I’m just emotional because that was so, uh, intense. I mean, I’ve never had a man, um, do that to me before,” she added, feeling her cheeks go hot.
He frowned.
“You’ve never had a male taste you before?”
Blushing harder, Clair shook her head.
“Human men aren’t always into that.”
“Then they are fools,” Kaelus growled. “Come, I’ll take you to our suite.”
And before Clair could protest, he scooped her up in his massive arms and carried her down the corridor.
She snuggled against him, laying her head on one massive shoulder like a tired child and closed her eyes. He smelled so good and she felt so safe in his arms.
It was too bad she couldn’t stay there.