Zoey smiled at him. “My time with you has been the highest point in my life since my dad passed.”
“I am glad to give you something in return for what you’ve done for me. Though now I feel the mood may be too serious for what I was going to ask you to do.”
Zoey had completely forgotten about that part of their deal; she owed him an action.
“Well, a deal is a deal,” she said. “Lay it on me.”
He stared at her for a few moments, lightly tapping three of his fingers on the table, as though hesitant to tell her. “You’re sure?”
“Would you back out of our deal it was me asking?”
One corner of his mouth rose in a half-smile, displaying his right pair of fangs. “No. I wouldn’t.” Keeping his upper arms on the table, he settled his lower hands over his abdomen, twining their fingers together. “I want you to remove your harness — your bra — and hand it to me. You don’t have to take off your top covering.”
Zoey stared at him blankly. “You want my bra?”
“I’ll return it later.”
Laughing, she shook her head. “Okay. You sure I can’t just go and grab one out of my suitcase?”
“Only if you wish to incur my wrath, human.”
“Of course not.” Zoey stood up and turned her back to Ren. She pulled her arms into her sweater, reached behind her back, and unhooked her bra. After sliding the harness off, she passed it between her hands as she slipped her arms back into her sleeves.
She turned to face Ren and held her bra out to him. “Your prize.”
Ren leaned forward and plucked it from her grasp. He raised the bra to his face, inhaled deeply, and smiled. Zoey’s jaw dropped. That small action, combined with the smoldering intensity in his eyes, made her body react instantly. A flush spread throughout her body, and her breasts, now free of restriction, felt heavy and full. Her nipples tightened as they brushed against her sweater.
He draped her bra over the empty chair beside him. “Your move, Zoey.”
“You’d better hope I don’t get another king,” she said, sitting down.
“Part of me hopes you do.”
They played a few more turns, and it felt like a cat and mouse game — she’d move her king up, then he’d crowd her and force her back. Her brow fell as she studied the board. His moves grew bolder with each passing turn; he had her on the defensive, and he knew it.
He slid another piece into a square at her end of the board. “King me.”
She stacked one of his fallen checkers onto the new king and met his gaze expectantly.
“Let your hair down,” he said.
Zoey released a slow breath and did as he instructed. Not so bad. On her turn, she jumped one of his few remaining pieces.
“What are you going to do when you get home?” she asked.
“I will honor my fallen Umen’rak as my final duty, and then I will have earned the right to claim a mate and live out the remainder of my life in peace.”
“Oh.”
Claim a mate — those few, simple words were like a punch to her gut. But what had she thought was going to happen? He was going home to live his life on another planet. If it included a…a mate, and a family, that was his business. Just like she’d be moving on with her life when he was gone…
The thought of him having that life proved a powerful distraction; two turns later, he jumped another of her checkers and landed on her end of the board. He demanded she king him again.
Maybe she shouldn’t have given him an incentive to play better.
“You are troubled,” he said. “What are you thinking about?”
“You.”
“Me? What specifically?”
“I answered you honestly. You only won a single question.”
Mischief lit in his gaze again. “Is that how we’re going to play, then?”
“Haven’t we already been playing it that way?” she asked, arching a brow as she glanced at her bra.
He placed all four of his hands on the edge of the table, lifted himself slightly, and scooted his chair back. When he eased down again, he spread his arms to the sides. “Come and sit.”
“What?”
Rendash patted his thigh with one hand and smiled. “Come sit with me, Zoey.”
“Like, on your lap?”
“Yes.”
“No way!”
His smile fell. “But you said anything. Are you breaking your word to me?”
“Oh, you are so…so…” Zoey pushed her chair back and rounded the table, stopping next to Ren. He had his head turned to watch her and wore such a smug smile on his face that she wondered if he’d been playing her all along.
“Well? Sit, human. The game will not complete itself.”
Zoey glared at him — she felt like she’d be a pro at that, before long — and turned. She eased her bottom onto his thigh, leaning most of her weight on her feet.
Rendash encircled her with his arms, brushing the underside of her breast with a forearm. She yelped as he pulled her fully onto his lap with her legs hanging to the side. He settled his left arms over her lap and placed a hand on the outside of her thigh.
“I believe it’s your turn,” he said.
Zoey went still. She’d always been self-conscious about her weight. Girls like her didn’t get to sit on men’s laps. It didn’t matter how big Ren was, she was too heavy to sit on him.
He slipped a hand between her thighs, jarring her from her thoughts. “Ren!”
“You haven’t lost. Yet. Make your move.”
She looked back at the board. Despite the relatively small number of chips remaining for either of them, it was difficult to concentrate. All she could focus on was the heat radiating from his body, the hand between her thighs, fiery as a brand, and the prominent erection beneath her backside.
As she leaned forward to reach for a checker, her nipple scraped against Ren’s arm, and the material of her sweater only enhanced the friction to send a thrill through her. She inhaled sharply.
“Something wrong?” he asked. His nose brushed against the side of her neck, and his breath was warm against her skin.
“You are not playing fair,” Zoey said, making her move in a hurry.
“I am simply making use of the tools you provided to me.” He extended his arm and slid one of his pieces. Zoey scanned the board. His checkers were closing in on hers like a net; one of his kings had two of hers blocked in. “What do I get when I win?”
“I don’t know.” She took her turn. “What do you want?”
Rendash moved another king into place. She’d lose a piece after her next turn, no matter what she did. She was running out of moves.
“A kiss,” he said.
“Okay,” she replied; a peck on his cheek would be quick, simple, and at least somewhat innocent, and it’d be his fault for not being more specific.
“Like the one we shared the night before last.”
Suddenly, her heart was pounding.
He made another casual move, and the circle grew tighter.
They continued their turns; one by one, Zoey’s final pieces were jumped or trapped against the edges of the board. Ren didn’t bother with questions, saying he was more interested in the prize at the end.
Zoey stared woefully at her final checker. It was over, but Rendash hadn’t claimed his victory. She knew he wanted her to make her move, as futile as it would be; he had a piece waiting to pounce no matter which direction she chose.
With a sigh, she placed her finger on the piece and slid it up to meet its doom.
Rendash moved with nonchalance, taking one of his kings between two fingers and a thumb and lifting it in a little arc over her last piece. It came down like a meteor in slow motion to smash her winning streak to pieces.
“This battle has its victor,” he said.
“So it does. I guess that means game over!” She leaned forward to slip off his lap.
He held her firmly in place; his grip wasn’t painful, by any
means, but it was clear she’d never break it on her own.
“I believe there is the matter of my prize to be settled, little human.”
Well damnit, if I’m going to kiss him, I’m going to give him a kiss to remember me by.
Zoey turned her torso toward him and placed her hands on his shoulders. His grip yielded as she shifted her legs, swinging one to the other side of his lap to straddle him. It placed her sex right up against his hard, constrained cock.
Ren’s smug grin vanished, his expression becoming something she could only describe as a lustful smolder. His eyes burned with desire, with intent, with promise. He slid his lower hands to her outer thighs while he moved his upper hands over her ribs to brush the undersides of her breasts with his thumbs.
Just one kiss. One incredible, unforgettable kiss.
But could she stop herself there?
Zoey reached up and cupped his face. “You wanted a kiss? I’ll give you a kiss.”
She parted her lips, pulled his head down, and claimed his mouth with hers. Electric jolts coursed through her as their connection sealed. His hands tightened on her, urging her on, but she didn’t need any encouragement to give more, to take more.
She flicked her tongue against his lips and he opened to her, but this time she did not allow him to take control; she set the pace, and she explored him firmly, boldly, and at her leisure.
Of their own accord, her hips undulated against him. His hard shaft stroked her clit through her pants, and she moaned as a bolt of pleasure pierced her core. Moisture flooded her. She knew her panties would be soaked by the time the kiss ended.
His nostrils flared as he inhaled. Body tensing, he groaned against her mouth and raised his hips to meet her gyrations.
Zoey gasped. She was wracked by a shudder, and dropped her hands to his shoulders, digging her fingernails into his scales. She was so close, just a few strokes away from coming.
But this needs to stop.
Grasping for the willpower that she knew was buried somewhere deep within, Zoey pulled away from him, catching his lower lip between her teeth as she broke the kiss.
Rendash growled, head falling back and chest swelling with a deep breath.
“You got your prize,” she said.
He didn’t release her when she tried to climb down.
“Why stop there?” he asked huskily.
“A kiss, Ren. That was the deal.”
With a frustrated sigh, he released her, curling his hands into fists and letting his arms dangle at his sides.
Zoey slid off his lap, making sure to brush his cock with her leg in the process. He shivered and groaned.
“You are not playing fair,” he said.
“Here’s another Earth saying for you — all’s fair in love and war.” She grinned and stepped away from him. He wasn’t the only one suffering. She was paying for her teasing, too, but hell if she was going to let him see it.
“Where are you going, Zoey?”
“It’s late, and kicking your ass five times in a row wore me out. I’m going to bed.”
“Five times in a row? I won the last match.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder, dropping her gaze quite deliberately to his groin. “Oh, did you? Goodnight, Ren. See you in the morning.”
Slowly — as though it pained him — he leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. “In the morning? You’re making me sleep in a separate room again?”
“It’s for the best.” She settled her hand on the banister. “Sleep well.”
“Maybe my understanding of the word best is incorrect,” she heard him mutter before she climbed the steps.
Once in the safety of the master bedroom, Zoey closed the door and sighed. Her skin was flushed, and she ached between her legs. Torturing Ren had turned out to be self-inflicted punishment.
A cold shower will help.
But even after standing under icy water for several minutes, she discovered that the moment she thought of Ren — which was essentially every moment — her desire flared back to life.
She wanted him. Needed him. It didn’t matter how many times her brain said no, her pussy was screaming yes!
“Traitor,” Zoey muttered, looking down.
There was only one thing she could do. It wouldn’t be the same, wouldn’t be remotely close, but at least it would take the edge off.
She dried off, turned out the lights, and crawled naked into the bed. Blanketed by a soft, warm comforter, she gave her body one more chance to settle, but it was no use. She sighed.
Closing her eyes, she imagined Ren. She pictured his tall, broad body and his lickable abs, recalled the texture of his scales against her skin, the feel of his strong hands brushing over her.
She kicked off the bedding.
Zoey cupped her breasts and tweaked her nipples. It wasn’t his fingers, nor his mouth. It wasn’t the same and never would be. She bit her lip and pressed her imagination harder. She trailed a hand down her body, over her stomach and toward her pelvis. Parting her thighs, she ran her fingers through the short hair of her sex, hesitating only a moment before sliding her fingers into the folds of her pussy to find her clit.
“Ren,” she whispered in time with her first stroke.
Chapter Fourteen
Rendash was dying.
He knew, through tattered remnants of his rationality, that he wasn’t truly dying, but that didn’t change how he felt.
The room was dark, the air a comfortable temperature, if a bit too dry, and the only sounds were the muted wailing of the wind — hardly enough to keep him awake — and the creaking of the bed as he shifted restlessly in his search for a position that would allow sleep to finally overtake him.
Believing that he could find the right position was his first mistake. The bed should have been comfortable; though his feet hung off the end, the mattress had a good balance between softness and support. Yet no matter how he lay, comfort remained elusive.
The largest portion of blame fell upon his own arousal; his cock ached, and he’d grasped it through his pants several times in fruitless attempts to alleviate the pressure. He’d left the restraining garment on, fearful of what his instincts would demand if he released his throbbing shaft from its confines. It was nearly impossible to sleep while his blood was ablaze, while his lips tingled with the remembrance of Zoey’s kiss, while her scent lingered upon him.
During the final game of checkers, he’d managed to swing the battle in his favor on multiple fronts. Despite her insistence on putting space between them, despite her deciding not to mate with him, he knew Zoey desired him, and he’d turned her desire into a weapon. He’d won the battle, but her final effort…
She’d won the war. He’d maintained a tenuous control throughout, even with her sitting on his lap and her bottom pressed over his cock, but that kiss!
Control. Detachment. Control. Detachment.
The words repeated in his mind until they lost all meaning. Neither were currently attainable to him; why should they hold any significance?
The rest of his discomfort couldn’t be attributed to anything physical; it was the same as it had been the night before, when he’d tossed and turned, his fitful sleep ending well before dawn light stained the sky beyond the window.
The reason for his broken sleep had been simple, and even though it affected him now, his pride demanded he not admit it. Better to cast truth aside and carry on without giving it acknowledgment.
Rendash — Aekhora, Blade of the Aligarii, forged by a lifetime of war — had become dependent on a human. A little female human who had become the most important thing in his life, who was perhaps the only reason he hadn’t been recaptured. A human who’d fought him to a stalemate. They warred with desire for each other, but she refused to succumb, and he wouldn’t force her into something against her will no matter how much she seemed to want it.
As foolish and unlikely as it might sound if spoken aloud, he needed her near to sleep soundly. Zoey’s p
resence seemed to keep his mind at ease, somehow holding back thoughts — some of them memories, some imaginings — of his captivity and the many battles he’d waged. She’d provided his only comfort on this world, his only companionship, his only hope. With her, he could be Rendash — or simply Ren, as she affectionately called him. He could be who he was, or who he wanted to be: an aligarii who’d done his duty. An aligarii who could know peace.
Without her, he was simply a fugitive on an alien planet, desperate and alone.
No more of this. No more of this separation, no more of this loneliness.
Even if they didn’t mate, he needed to be with her. He needed to hold her in his arms and have that little taste of hope.
He thrust the blankets aside, sat up, and left the bed. A long stride brought him to the door, and then he stalked down the walkway to the room Zoey had claimed. She was likely asleep by now. He’d slip into bed beside her, gently take her into his arms, and find his comfort. Any issues she had when she woke could be dealt with in the morning. Until then, she’d never know. She was a heavy sleeper.
Ren opened the door silently and entered the chamber. A powerful scent — familiar and tantalizing — struck him immediately.
The fragrance of her arousal.
Though the sun had set long before, and snow continued to fall outside, enough light streamed in through the windows to grant Rendash visibility without engaging his nyros. Still, it took him a moment to realize what he was seeing on the large bed as he crept toward it. Instinct — that old, bone-deep instinct that superseded all his training — roared to the forefront.
Zoey lay naked in the center of the bed. Her head was turned to one side, hair spread out around her. One of her hands clutched her breast. The other was between her legs, stroking her sex. She bit her lip and moaned, tilting her head back.
Rendash narrowed his eyes to sharpen his vision. He inhaled deeply, taking in her scent. His chest heaved with his quickening breath, and he bared his teeth, clenching his fists at his sides. His erection strained against his pants.
A low growl clawed its way up from his chest.
Zoey screamed, eyes snapping open, and hurled a pillow at him. It struck him in the face with a soft whump.
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