Chapter Four #3
"I want to feel you come around me," he said against her lips. "One more time. Give me that."
His hand slipped between their bodies, his scaled thumb finding her clitoris. The dual stimulation—his shaft's spiral ridges working her from within, his textured thumb circling her from without—built a pressure that was almost unbearable.
"Look at me," Zain commanded.
She opened eyes she hadn't realized she'd closed. His face was inches from hers, those quicksilver eyes blazing, the sapphire scales on his cheekbones throwing off light like scattered stars.
"Now."
The climax hit her like a shockwave. Her vision fragmented, her body convulsed and her inner muscles gripped him.
Through the haze, she felt him follow. The rippling wave of his ridges, the heat of his release flooding her, the deep, resonant sound that tore from his chest as he buried himself to the hilt and held there.
The bioluminescence across his body blazed white-hot, then dimmed to a soft, steady glow that pulsed in time with their synchronized breathing.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Zara's legs were still wrapped around his waist, her fingers still tangled in the fine hair at his nape. Zain's forehead was pressed to hers, his breath warm against her lips, his body a welcome weight atop her.
The intercom crackled.
"Commander. The Bailiwick patrol has accepted our diplomatic designation and withdrawn their boarding request. They're requesting a routine data exchange before departing. Full clearance in two minutes."
Zain exhaled, and the tension that had been lurking beneath his composure finally released. "Acknowledged," he said, his voice rough. "Maintain position and proceed with data exchange."
The intercom went silent.
Zara stared up at the cabin's ceiling, her mind struggling to process the cascade of information. The patrol was withdrawing. She wouldn't be discovered. Her career—at least for now—was safe.
"Two minutes," Zain said, withdrawing from her with a gentleness that made her ache. "Then you'll need to leave."
"I know." She sat up, her body protesting the movement. Every muscle felt like it had been stretched and reshaped. "I should get dressed."
"In a moment."
He caught her chin in his hand and kissed her—once, softly, a kiss that tasted of honey and spice and something that might have been goodbye. When he pulled back, his expression was unreadable.
"Zara of the Bailiwick Forces," he said. "You are the most extraordinary creature I've ever encountered."
The words were nearly identical to his opening salvo in the spaceport promenade, but the delivery was different.
"I don't regret this," she said. "Any of it."
"Neither do I."
He rose from the sleeping platform and extended his hand to help her up. Zara took it, and the feel of his scaled palm against hers was already familiar enough to make her chest tighten.
"Your uniform," he said, gesturing to the scattered clothing on the cabin floor. "I'd help you dress, but I suspect that would only delay your departure."
"Probably."
She gathered her clothes with shaking hands, pulling on the standard-issue garments that suddenly felt like a costume. The dog tags clinked against her chest as she fastened her jacket—a reminder of the life she'd return to, the rules she'd continue to break in secret.
Zain had donned his flight suit. By the time Zara finished dressing, he looked every inch the Tylician commander—formidable, controlled and utterly unapproachable.
"I'll escort you to the docking bay," he said. "There's a maintenance corridor that bypasses the main thoroughfares. You can access the civilian sector without passing through any security checkpoints."
"You've done this before."
"I've never done this before." He held her gaze. "I've seduced humans. I've never... This was different."
The silence that followed was heavy with things neither of them wanted to say.
"We should go," Zara finally managed.
Zain nodded and led her through the hatch, down the corridor, through a series of turns that she tried to memorize and immediately forgot.
The maintenance corridor was narrow and poorly lit, smelling of coolant and recycled air.
It deposited them in a shadowy alcove near the spaceport's civilian sector, far from the Bailiwick Defense Forces' jurisdiction.
"From here, you can—"
"Zain." She caught his wrist before he could finish. His skin was hot beneath her fingers. "Will I see you again?"
The question hung between them, fragile and dangerous. Zain looked at her for a long moment, and Zara watched the bioluminescent flicker that raced along the visible strip of his collar.
"That depends," he said slowly, "on whether you want to be seen."
"I do."
"Then yes." He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "You'll see me again."
He released her hand and stepped back into the maintenance corridor. The hatch slid shut between them with a soft hiss, and Zara was alone in the civilian sector, her body still entranced with the memory of his touch, her mind already calculating when she could arrange her next act of rebellion.