Chapter 13
A'Vanti
The blankets are soft beneath my back, Cody is solid above me, and there is nothing else in the universe but this.
His mouth finds mine again. There is no hesitation in it.
It is certain and thorough and unhurried, as though he has all the time in the world and intends to use every moment of it on me.
His hands cradle my face, thumbs tracing the line of my jaw, and I feel precious beneath him.
Wanted. Not for what my body represents to a dying species, not for the offspring I might produce, but for me. Just me.
I cannot catch my breath. I do not want to.
His lips leave mine and trail along the edge of my jaw, finding a sensitive spot beneath my ear.
A sound escapes me that I did not authorize, gasping and raw, and I feel him smile against my skin.
He presses a kiss there, then another, working his way down my neck in a slow, deliberate path that makes my pulse hammer beneath his mouth.
I stare up at the ceiling of our shelter, the fabric glowing amber with lantern light, and I realize that this is what it feels like to be cherished.
Cody takes his time. Every kiss is placed with intention, as though he is memorizing me.
The hollow of my throat. The ridge of my collarbone.
The place where my scales shift from pale gold to deeper amber along the curve of my shoulder.
He lingers there, his lips reverent, each kiss waking a new nerve. I arch into him without meaning to.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, and the words vibrate through me.
I have been told I am beautiful before. By males who assessed me the way one appraises a gemstone, for value and utility. Cody says it like a man who cannot believe his luck. Like beauty is the least of what he sees, but he cannot help mentioning it anyway.
His mouth moves lower, pressing slow, sucking kisses along the center of my sternum, down between my breasts.
I watch him in the dim light, his broad shoulders silhouetted by the shelter wall, his head dark against the gold of my skin.
I cannot see his face clearly, only the shape of him, the careful movement of his body as he works his way down mine.
But I can feel everything. Every press of his lips. Every heated breath across my scales.
He kisses the curve beneath my breast. The dip of my waist. The swell of my hip. Each one deliberate, as though he is drawing a map of me with his mouth, charting territory he intends to claim. My fingers find his hair, still damp from the pool, and I cling to him.
When he reaches the juncture of my thighs, he pauses. I feel him lift his head, and even in the low light, I see him looking up at me.
"Tell me if you don't like anything," he says, his voice rough and low. "Or if something feels wrong. Your anatomy is similar enough to human that I think I can do this, but you have to let me know."
My chest tightens at his care. "If you can fly a transport ship through a sandstorm," I say, "I have faith in your abilities. But I'm happy to redirect you as needed."
That gets me a grin. I catch the flash of white teeth in the darkness, that irrepressible goober grin that should be ridiculous right now and somehow is not.
"Well… I also did some reading. The Cerastean manual on breeding practices. Very informative. Lots of diagrams."
A laugh bursts out of me, bright and startled and completely involuntary. Of all the things he could say in this moment, in this sacred cave with the storm raging above us and his mouth inches from the most intimate part of my body, this man chooses to make me laugh.
And somehow, it is exactly right. Because the laughter dissolves the last thread of nervousness I did not realize I was holding. The last whisper of vulnerability that comes with being bare before another person for the first time.
I place my hand on the top of his head and push, gently but firmly. "Then show me."
His grin widens against my skin. "Yes, ma'am."
He settles lower, guiding my thighs apart with gentle hands. I spread wider to accommodate the breadth of his shoulders, and the stretch pulls a shiver from somewhere deep in my belly.
He presses a kiss to the inside of my knee. Then higher. Then higher still, his mouth unhurried on the sensitive scales of my inner thigh. My hand is still in his hair, and I feel myself grip tighter with each kiss.
"Okay?" he murmurs.
"Do not stop," I manage, and my voice does not sound like my own.
A soft gust of breath ghosts over my core a moment before being replaced with Cody's mouth.
A sound tears from me, stuttered and unguarded, as he flattens his tongue and licks up my center.
He quickly figures out what I like best – long, steady strokes that have me quickly climbing the peak towards my release.
Within minutes, I am undulating beneath his mouth, trying to push towards my peak even faster. With a growl vibrating into my flesh, Cody adjusts his grip, wrapping his hands around my thighs and pinning me in place.
I cry out at the denial, which quickly turns into a scream as Cody clasps his mouth over my clit and sucks. The sound of his name falling from my lips echoes through the cavern, but I am unable to rein in the noise I am making.
I get close to the edge of my orgasm, but Cody isn't done teasing and slows the strokes of his tongue on me. I grab his hair and tug, hissing in demand, but Cody's ever-present grin only grows wider.
He brings me to the precipice again, his mouth relentless, and right when I think he will finally let me fall, he pulls back once more. He presses a kiss to my inner thigh.
"Cody." His name comes out as a warning.
He answers by dragging his tongue against me in one long, slow stroke that has my hips lifting off the blankets. Then he stops again.
I make a sound that is not a word in any language.
He does it a third time. Building me up until I am trembling and panting and right there – then easing off, his lips ghosting over me, feather-light when I need pressure.
My thighs are shaking. My skin is flushed, and I cannot think, cannot form a single coherent thought beyond the maddening rhythm of his teasing.
"You are doing this on purpose," I pant.
"Mmhmm," he hums, and the vibration nearly sends me over.
With the next lick along my flesh, Cody slides his fingers inside me.
"Yes, like that," I gasp as Cody curls his fingers inside me. "Don't stop," I plead as he begins to lick my clit with firm, steady strokes. I thread my fingers into his hair, gripping him firmly and not giving him the opportunity to tease me further. I need this release like I need my next breath.
I look down the length of my body at him, at this strange, wonderful creature between my thighs.
His blue eyes find mine above the plane of my stomach, bright even in the dim light, and he holds my gaze without breaking rhythm.
That eye contact undoes me more than any touch could.
How does he do this? How does this human with his ridiculous grin and his gentle eyes take me apart so completely?
He watches me watching him, and his eyes darken with want.
His fingers hit a spot inside me that has me finally breaking his gaze, closing my eyes and throwing my head back.
My whole body pulls taut, every muscle drawn tight like a bowstring. I hang there for one impossible, weightless moment, suspended at the very edge. Then Cody curls his fingers and presses his tongue flat against me, and I snap.
The release tears through me all at once. My back arches off the blankets, his name falling from my lips like a prayer. Pleasure rolls through me in deep, shuddering waves, and Cody stays with me through each one, his mouth gentle now, easing me down as I shake apart beneath him.
For a long moment, I simply exist. My body hums, loose and liquid, the aftershocks still rippling through me in slow, fading waves.
Cody presses a lazy kiss to my hip, then my stomach, then rests his chin upon my belly and looks up at me.
He does not say a word. He does not need to.
The smug satisfaction on his face is insufferable and entirely earned.
I should be sated. I should be boneless and content and ready for sleep. But the heat of his skin on mine and the weight of him between my thighs is already stirring a fresh hunger.
"More," I gasp, tugging on his shoulders, pulling him up the length of my body until his mouth finds mine.
"Greedy," he chides with a grin. "I like it."
He laughs, crawling up my body to cover me, my back pressing flat to the mattress.
His mouth meets mine, and I taste myself on his lips.
A wave of possession surges through me at that, fierce and raw, and I am kissing him back with an urgency that borders on desperation.
My hands rake across his shoulders, nails dragging down his skin, trying to get him impossibly closer.
The groan he makes into my mouth only makes me wilder.
"A'Vanti," he murmurs between kisses. "I've got you."
And somehow those words steady me, the way his hand on the controls steadies a ship in rough air.
The frantic energy doesn't disappear, but it deepens into something with a rhythm.
His kisses slow mine. His hands frame my face, anchoring me, and I match his pace.
I'm still hungry, still burning, but no longer falling.
I slide my hand down his chest, my fingers catching in the fine hair that scatters across his skin.
It is soft and strange beneath my fingertips.
Cerastean males have nothing like it. I like the texture of it, the way it feels under my palm when I press my hand flat against him.
His heart pounds beneath my fingers, racing as fast as my own.
I trace the trail of it downward, over the flat plane of his stomach where the muscles tighten under my touch, and lower still.
When my hand wraps around him, we both go still.