Chapter 10

Rohn:

Rohn started to remove his glasses. Her hand made him pause. “Leave them,” she said, voice thick with desire.

“Yes?”

“Oh yes. They are working for you.”

They were a visual reminder of his deficiency. It seemed impossible that his mate would find them attractive, but the unmistakable musk of her arousal hung in the air. His tattoos burned at the recognition of desire and he hardly believed that someone so vibrant desired him.

She climbed on his lap, her legs straddling his.

He swallowed, unable to take his eyes off of her. “What do you want to see?”

“This.” She slanted her mouth over his, her lips brushing softly. He responded, just as softly. Her tongue licked the seam of his mouth, demanding entrance, and he opened for her.

She tasted sweet, better than chocolate chip cookies or smoky liqueur. She was distilled sunshine and joy, warm and sweet, and made for him.

The kiss deepened with an air of urgency. His cock hardened and pressed between them. She made an appreciative noise but said nothing, grinding against him. The scent of her surrounded him, a light floral fragrance. He committed the moment to memory, not wanting to miss a detail.

She pulled back, a smile lingering on her kiss-swollen lips. “Oh, wow.”

“Did you find what you wanted?”

“Oh, we’ve got chemistry, all right.” Her index finger brushed his lower lip.

“Let me verify.” He kissed along her jaw and down her neck, exploring her softness and marking her all the while. She wiggled out of her shirt, grinding against his cock.

“I want to see you,” she said, tugging at his shirt. He tossed it to the floor, holding his breath as his mate took in his physical appearance. She had seen him unclothed once before but now her fingers traced the patterns of the tattoos across his shoulders and chest. The normally dark ink now glowed a bright silver, reflecting his heightened emotions. Her fingers rasped over scar tissue and ink, touching him with reverence. “Wow. I heard rumors that the tattoos glowed but I didn’t believe it. Wow. You’re really something,” she said.

“Something good?”

“Something wonderful.” She glanced up the pattern she traced on his pecs, dark lashes framing her velvety eyes, and she licked her bottom lip.

Their gaze held and the atmosphere went from warm to superheated. He needed to see all of his mate. To taste her. To be inside her.

He fumbled with the fastener on her brazier but grew frustrated and tore it away.

“That was a good bra,” she protested.

He did not care. Her breasts were high and small, the perfect size for his mouth, capped with rosy pink nipples. He took them into his mouth, rolling his tongue. She arched into him, her hand frantically working to free his cock.

His finger slipped under her panties and tugged them down. He wanted them off but he did not want to release her nipple, either. Frustrated he could not have both, he pulled away and focused on the scrap of fabric causing such trouble. With a growl, he tugged on it until the fabric ripped.

“Were these good, also?”

“No,” she said, “they sucked.” She did not hesitate and lined herself over his cock.

“You are not ready. You will damage yourself.” He needed to open her, to prepare her for his girth.

“Trust me, I’ve never been more ready.” She bit her lower lip as she sank down onto his length, groaning.

Her heat surrounded him. Tight, tighter than he expected, and perfection.

“You are so tight,” he said, panting with the effort it took not to come immediately.

She rode him, a look of concentration on her face. Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging. Eventually she latched on his horn, using it to leverage herself up. “I can’t believe how good you feel, babe,” she whispered.

He could watch his beautiful mate forever, entranced at the way her body moved in pleasure and the bliss on her face. He growled, bucking up into her. She gasped and rode harder, her tits bouncing.

His hands clasped her hips, holding tight. She clenched around him, squeezing him tight. Pure electricity shot up his spine. He wouldn’t last long.

Now. Claim her.

They reached the peak together.

He sank his fangs into the delicate flesh on her shoulder as the electricity coiled through him, pushing him to the edge of his climax. He bit down, not letting go until he tasted blood, and emptied deep into her. Her pleasure blended with the pain, squeezing him tighter and milking him for every drop.

* * *

He stroked the bottom of her left foot in a tickle. She kicked and twisted, laughing the entire time. He loved the sound of it, the delight and music in her laughter, and vowed to hoard all her sounds of pleasure.

Her other surprisingly solid foot landed heavily against his chest and pushed. He grunted with appreciation at her strength and captured the offending foot.

Starting at the flesh of her upper thigh, he stroked the length of her right leg, and her breath caught in her throat. Another sound of pleasure to file away. Moving down to the artificial portion below her knee, he listened and watched carefully, wanting to remember every detail. Warmed by her body, the surface coating felt as pliable and delicate as Terran skin, covering the hard layer below.

“Does your leg pain you?” He had to ask. He needed to know and rectify the situation if possible. The idea of his mate suffering the slightest discomfort would keep him up all night.

She stretched out her legs, flexing each foot one at a time. The long, shapely line of her calf turning into her delicate ankle caught his eye. He misspoke. Worry would not keep him up all night.

“I don’t even really think about it anymore,” she said. Her slender finger undid the fastener and the device slipped free, revealing the stump dressed in a black stocking. She rolled the stocking down. Her skin had a wrinkly, compressed look but was otherwise healthy. A scar, faded and pale, curved around the end. “It’s just me. I pretty much wear this all day, even in the shower, but not when I’m sleeping. I attend regular medical appointments to check on my muscle development and hip joints, get a new prosthesis every few years, and that’s it. Mostly I get tired of people telling me I’m so brave for having the audacity to exist. What was I going to do? Give up?”

“No, I don’t think you know how.”

“Damn straight. Team Rokia isn’t made of quitters.” She scooted back in the bed, her leg brown against the white bed linens.

The iron resolve in her voice made him smile. “May I touch you?”

She sucked in a breath but nodded.

He watched for her reactions as he leaned in, starting with a kiss where her hip met her thigh. “I love this spot,” he murmured. He planted soft kisses on the inside of her thigh, breathing deep the musky scent of her desire and his spent seed, and murmured that he adored this spot. And the next. And the next. Every inch of her was perfection. He loved it all.

He worked his way down to her knee, loving the feel of strong muscles under a layer of softness. At the bend behind her knee, he gave it a long, wet kiss. She squealed and jolted. Another ticklish spot. Finally, he reached where her leg ended.

Paler than the rest of her bronze skin, it looked remarkably unremarkable. A thick scar, faded with time, curved along the rounded end. Nothing looked inflamed or irritated. This was an old injury, long healed.

“Does this require special care or consideration?”

“I clean the socket at night. Sweat can get in there and make it a bit gross. I usually lotion up my stump before bed and clean the receptor pads.”

“May I do that for you?”

She chewed at her bottom lip before nodding. “I know we’re naked and whatnot, but that seems very… intimate.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I understand.”

She sighed. “How can I refuse that? Of course, Rohn. There’s no part of me you can’t touch. No part of me I don’t want you to touch.”

She reached to the bedside table and handed him a bottle of lotion. He worked the cream into her leg, covering every inch of skin. He watched the pulse point in her throat for any sign of distress. She merely sighed and sank back into the pillows.

They lay together, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces as Nakia curled into his side. She rested her hand directly over his heart. Could she feel it beating? Did she know it would beat only for her for the rest of his days?

“Can I ask about your horn?” She shifted, her velvety eyes looking up at him.

Stars above, he couldn’t resist those eyes. Normally he did not speak of the challenge with Levin that left him disfigured. Those who were there knew and he didn’t see how it was anyone else’s business.

“A toxin prevented me from healing properly,” he said. “It also impaired my vision.” He tapped his cheekbone, just under his right eye. “Because of this, I am not fit to pilot.”

“But you manage all the pilots and the ships and the equipment.”

“Yes.” It was as close as he would ever get to flying solo in the stars.

“Do you like your job?”

“Most days.” His arms tightened around her. “There is always a patrol out, always ships that need maintenance, and always pilots to corral. Pilots are very flighty.”

She snorted and lightly smacked his chest. “That’s terrible. Shame on you for that pun.”

“Never.” He rolled her onto her back and brushed his fingers along her side in small wiggling motions.

She gasped and laughed sharply, twisting to get away. “No tickling!”

When her breathing returned to normal levels, she sat upright and pulled her legs to her chest. Those velvety eyes had a questioning look about them. “Does your horn hurt?”

“Occasionally. There are nerves at the root and in the core. The damage exposed the nerves at the time, and it had to be neutralized.” He remembered the procedure, the hollowing out of his horn and filling it with the compound. The nerves at the root remained viable. “The composite material you see expands and contracts with temperature. I can feel the pressure that generates.”

She made a face, as if tasting something bitter. “That sounds horrible. Don’t they grow?”

“Usually. You will see plenty of males with broken or partially regrown horns.” The warlord was one such male. “But I was exposed to a toxin that prevents my horn from regrowing.”

“Oh.” She stroked the length of the shattered horn. “It’s very beautiful like this.”

“It is a sign of failure.”

“Nuh-uh, none of that.” She straddled his chest, moving with remarkable speed. Grabbing his chin, she said, “You listen to me, husband. That is not a mark of failure. It is the mark of a man who was injured but got back up again. A man who keeps fighting.”

Did she truly see him that way?

“Is my leg a sign of failure?”

“Of course not. Do not speak nonsense.”

“You’re right—it’s not. It’s just a shitty thing that happened but I got back up again. Besides, I remember some hot guy telling me that losing my leg didn’t define me and that I was more than my body. My strength and courage did.” Her velvety eyes held his, demanding a response.

“Is that what you see when you look at me? How could you see anything but a broken old male?”

She pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. “I see a man who devotes himself to helping others. I see his kindness and his consideration, and I like what I see.”

“Thank you. Your words are sweet.” He wanted to believe they were true.

Nakia:

Nakia stared up at the ceiling. The glimmer of the lamp scattered tiny flecks of light across the surface, like stars. “I’m married.”

“For nearly twenty-four hours now,” Rohn said, voice rough with sleep.

“And I totally had sex with my husband.”

“I know. I was there.”

She rolled over to face him. Shadows obscured his features, but the gold metal embedded in his horn glowed in the soft light. Meanwhile, his tawny eyes gleamed with an internal fire.

“But I’m married now. Married,” she repeated.

“Mated.” He yawned. “Are we still making the awkward statements?”

“I can’t believe it. This doesn’t feel real.”

“If you’re questioning if it happened, then I must not have done a satisfactory job.”

She huffed with amusement. “You were satisfactory.”

“A ringing endorsement,” he said in a flat, unamused voice.

“Very satisfactory.” There. That should soothe his ego.

“But not amazing.” Then, “Right.”

He gathered her close and planted a kiss that went beyond satisfactory and straight to toe-curlingly amazing.