The Arrogant Genius: The Lost Planet Series, Book Eight

by Webster, K

  “What will you do on your break?” I rumble, running my claw over her bottom lip. “Rest your eyes, stormy one?”

  “I thought about it,” she says. “With you. But if you’re too busy…”

  Her words hang in the air, tugging me in two different directions with indecision. This cure and inoculation are of utmost importance, but I know it’s imperative I also rest.

  “If we rest,” I say, enunciating the word, “then I don’t want to do it in the Medical Bay. I’d like to rest with you in my quarters.”

  She chews on her bottom lip, a flash of nervousness in her gray eyes. “I really, really want to rest, but I’m nervous. I’ve never rested with an alien before.”

  “You’re the alien, remember?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Says the dude suddenly growing sharp claws and teeth.”

  “I never liked having them,” I reveal as I take her hand in mine. “It made me feel uncivilized. Like I belonged roaming with the beasts.” I lead us out of the Medical Bay. “I always felt my mind was the sharp one. The part of me that mattered. The claws and fangs felt unnecessary. Until now. Now, I feel like I could use them to protect you.”

  “I sure could have used claws and fangs of my own a few times in my life,” Zoe grumbles. “There’d be a lot of guards with their throats torn out.”

  We all know what these female prisoners endured while under the reign of the Kevins. Knowing they forced themselves on my rekking mate has my sub-bones popping again.

  “Maybe AJ will have claws and fangs,” Zoe says absently, making my heart warm that she still talks about our hypothetical son as though he exists. “With my smarts and your alien freakshow-ness, he’s bound to be fucking scary.”

  “If not,” I say as we walk down a long hallway toward the sleeping quarters, “we’ll teach him to fight like Draven, fly a ship like Theron, effortlessly take down a wild beast like Hadrian, and wield a zonnoblaster like Jareth. No one will mess with our mortling.”

  She smiles, clearly pleased with our talks of a future. We make it to my quarters. I push open the door and tug her inside. Once it’s closed behind us, I slide my fingers into her hair, tightening, and tilt her nog back so I can study her pretty face.

  “Beautiful,” I rumble. “Mine.”

  Her lips part and she murmurs, “I want you…but…”

  “But?” A growl rumbles through me. “But nothing.”

  “Yes, but something, Avrell.” She scowls. “You want me because death almost stole you and I’m available, but you don’t know me.”

  “I know plenty,” I argue, irritated at her words. “I know you put on a brave face even when you’re terrified. That your smile is soft when you’re taking care of the sick and wicked when you’re taking care of me. I know you whimper in your sleep, eat like a mortling, and have the most expressive eyes I’ve ever glimpsed into. You’re brilliant and feisty and beautiful.” Bending down, I capture her lips with mine for a chaste kiss. “I know you’re mine.”

  She pushes at my chest, forcing me to release her. Her gray eyes pool with unshed tears and her brows furl. “Sure. Now. But what about before? I went to prison for a reason, Avrell.”

  “You all did. You’re all redeemable, stormy one.”

  “Not me,” she bites out, her tone bitter. “I wasn’t a victim like the other girls.” Her head bows. “I was a terrible criminal.”

  “Was.”

  She jerks her head up, a tear streaking down her cheek. “It’s awful. So awful you’ll shove me outside your door and never want to speak to me again.”

  “Impossible.”

  “Possible,” she argues. “Probable. Av, you’ll hate me.”

  “No,” I growl, pouncing on her again, pulling her into my arms. “Enough of this nonsense, female.”

  “God,” she groans, chuckling through her tears. “You’re such a man sometimes. It’s infuriating.”

  “We all have our faults, see?” I stroke my fingers through her dark hair. “Everyone has them. Even me, though I’m sure you’re surprised.”

  She snorts. “Arrogant asshole.”

  “Just proving my point.”

  Her cheek rests on my chest and she sighs heavily, clinging to me. I kiss her nog and hold her, waiting for her to realize I’m not going anywhere.

  “Avrell,” she murmurs. “You’re a healer. This is going to be hard for you to hear. But, if we have any chance, I can’t keep this secret from you. I accept it might be the very thing that’ll push you away. I can accept that—”

  “I can’t,” I growl, “and neither should you. On our planet, when you have a mate, you stay by their side until the end. Through The Rades and geostorms and ravenous beasts. Through changing moods and hurt feelings and annoying behavior. No matter what terrible thing you’re faced with, you do it together. That’s the way of our people here. You and the other females are our people now.”

  She pulls away to stare up at me, determination glinting in her eyes. “Earth II isn’t that way. It’s a cruel, hateful place where the weak are a liability, there is no compassion, females are considered a bargaining tool, and the rich prevail over everyone.”

  “I would rescue all the female aliens if I could,” I say to her, stroking her cheeks with my thumbs.

  “And that’s what makes you a good man.” Her nostrils flare as she breaks her stare from mine. “Those bastards kept the terminally ill in a ward, keeping them barely breathing with their machines, but never offering them medication or treatments to take away the pain.” She swallows hard. “Some nights, the wails of despair were too much to bear. It would haunt me and terrorize me.” A sob chokes her.

  “My sweet mate, don’t cry.”

  “I’m not sweet, though,” she argues. “I couldn’t help them. The officials who ran the ward wouldn’t allow us to. I was helpless and frustrated. The pain was so thick in the air you could almost taste it. I’d begged my superiors for pain blocking medication. Something to help them endure, but I was always denied. When someone was going to die anyway, they refused to use resources to help them.”

  “Rekking Kevins,” I growl.

  “One night, I’d had enough. Avrell, I…”

  She can’t say the words. Her tears are falling too freely as despair overcomes her. I pull her to my chest and nuzzle her nog with my nose.

  “Know what I would have done if I were you, stormy one?”

  She shakes her nog, clinging to me.

  “I would’ve found a way to help them to The Eternals. I would’ve shown them mercy. It was the only compassionate thing to do.”

  Her body relaxes in my arms. “You would have?”

  “So would Breccan or Hadrian or Theron. Lyric and Willow and Julie. It’s the right thing to do.” I cradle her nog and tilt it up so I can see her pretty eyes. “When we were at our lowest and thought all hope was lost, Breccan was prepared to show the ten of us mercy.”

  She gapes at me. “He would have killed you all?”

  “If it meant we wouldn’t have to suffer, he absolutely would have. It’s a sign of strength and bravery and love, Zoe. It may be a crime where you come from, but here, we call those people heroes.”

  I capture her lips with mine, this time kissing her deeply so she knows she doesn’t have to endure this mental torture alone. She has me. Her mate. We get through the sad times together. Everything is easier to face when you have a good partner at your side. I’ve seen it with each mort with their mates. Alone, they were strong, but with the right partner, they became a formidable force.

  Zoe and I are a formidable force.

  A geostorm.

  We’ve barely begun to brew and I can feel the strength of it crackling between us like a million magnastrikes.

  “I’m taking you to bed now, brave mate. I’m going to make you mine.”

  She nods. “Thank you.”

  Seeing Zoe so vulnerable and soft fills me with pride. It’s a side of her no one else will see. She’s tough like zutametal. Unbreaka
ble. The fact I see this tender side of her moves me. I want to nurture and protect it. Protect her.

  I hook my recently grown-in claw into the front of her minnasuit and tear through the material from her throat all the way to her pelvis. She gasps in shock at my beastly behavior. I flash her my fangs before peeling the material off her shoulders and down her arms. Her breasts bounce and my tongue waters to taste her dark, hardened buds on each one.

  This first time I can tell will be rough and fast. I’m low on energy and still feeling feverish, so it’ll need to be quick. Later, when I have the time and am well—and I rekking will get well—to savor her, I’ll lick every part of her until she begs for release. For now, I rip at her clothes, eager to see all of her flesh.

  “On the bed, female,” I growl as I start shredding my own suit.

  Her eyes are wide and hungry as she takes in my bare chest. I shed the rest of my suit, my stare snared on her as she walks over to the bed. Her round rump that jiggles makes my cock twitch as she bends to climb onto the bed.

  I pounce, unable to wait another moment to be with my mate. She lets out a giggle when I tackle her to the covers, nipping at her shoulder. I’d read in the book the other morts wrote in about how the females like to be taken—face-to-face—but I don’t want her that way.

  “On your hands and knees,” I command, squeezing her pale rump. “This isn’t going to be gentle or sweet, stormy one.” I don’t tell her my energy is waning, my body already spent from the disease that still plagues me.

  My often mean mate obeys like a sweet little thing, pushing her rump at me, her scent of arousal thick in the air. I run my fingers between her legs, reveling in how slick her cunt is for me. I seek out the nub that was written in the book and she moans the moment I touch it.

  “Scream all you want, stormy one. No one’s coming to save you.”

  She groans at my words, fisting the sheets. “Your filthy words shouldn’t turn me on this much.”

  I smack her rump as I pinch her nub. “Quiet, woman, so you can hear each command I give you.”

  “Fucking bastard,” she complains, but her body quivers with pleasure. “I hate you.”

  “Your mouth lies,” I rumble. “Your cunt is filled with truth.”

  She cries out when I push a finger into her soaked body. My darling mate meets the thrust of my finger with hungry need.

  “Touch your nub,” I order.

  “Clit.”

  “Touch it and make yourself scream. Do it, female. Now.”

  “You’re so fucking bossy.” She moans. “You drive me crazy.”

  I massage her insides, exploring and wondering how it’ll feel with my cock inside her. I’m rather large and her body is small. It’ll be a wonder if I even fit.

  “My cock is too big,” I warn. “It’s going to hurt you.”

  “Spoken like a true man.”

  “Perhaps I should clip you here,” I taunt, teasing at the tender flesh near her other hole with the claw of my thumb, careful not to break the skin. “Then I’d fit.”

  “You sick, sadistic freak,” she breathes. “You’ll fit. A woman was created to push a baby out. Your dick’s not that big, douchebag.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Don’t grumble at me—oh my God!”

  There’s a rough nub within her that I’ve discovered and it appears to be the secret button to her pleasure. She screams and whimpers and writhes, her pleasure exploding through her. Once she stops trembling so bad, I pull my finger out of her, marveling at the way arousal pours from her body. So thick and plentiful. Bending down, I run my forked tongue along her cunt. The taste is sweet and unlike anything I’ve ever consumed. I want her. All of her. I force my tongue into her body, desperate for all of it. She shrieks when my tongue rubs against her inner button again. Gripping both her bottom cheeks, I spread her so I can go deeper, rubbing my nose against her other hole, inhaling the musky scent there.

  “Avrell!” she bellows, another burst of pleasure obliterating her.

  My cock weeps at the sound of my name on her lips. I withdraw from her body, swiping at the wetness on my face with the back of my hand. She moans when I push my cock against her eager, drenched cunt.

  “Mine,” I growl. “All mine.”

  Another scream belts out of her when I thrust hard. Just like she promised, her body takes every long inch of my imposing cock. Her body stretches, just barely, to accommodate me. We’re a perfect fit. The way her body clenches around me is unlike any feeling I’ve ever experienced. It maddens me and brings me joy all at once. I can’t control the feral need to claim my mate. Thrust after thrust, I slam into her perfect body, eager to fill her with my seed.

  “Zoe,” I rumble. “You’re mine.”

  “Yessss.”

  Her agreement sends me over the edge. I spill into her with warm, thick spurts. My cock is still throbbing with my release when the toxica rushes through her system. I wrap an arm around her middle as she weakens, guiding her down onto the bed without pulling out of her.

  “I’ve got you, stormy one,” I croon, nuzzling her hair and kissing her cheek. “Feel me deep inside you?”

  I know she can’t speak, so I do it for her.

  “You can. It feels good to be filled by your mate. I’m keeping my big cock buried in you because we have a future to fulfil. I don’t think I can wait for our hypothetical son. He has to grow up to be the most incredible mort on this planet to make his mother and father proud.”

  She sighs and it sounds happy.

  “Relax, mate. Rest now. Let me hold you and keep you safe.”

  Exhaustion sucks the last bit of energy I’d been holding onto away from me. Now that we’ve consummated our union, I’m able to drift deeply into a restful sleep.

  I just hope I wake up from it.

  I have to.

  I have a beautiful mate, and hopefully soon, a mortling on the way.

  I’m not ready for The Eternals. I don’t think I’ll ever be. Not now that I finally have her.

  No, I’ll have to wake and get better.

  My new family needs me.

  9

  Zoe

  Solar of the Kevins…

  I let him sleep until I can’t anymore.

  I know he’s got a lot of work to do.

  I know today is the day the Kevins will be attacking.

  But there’s nothing we can do aside from sit around and wait. We can only continue along with our mission to cure The Rades and hope Oz’s weapon obliterates their entire army.

  He sleeps heavily, like a man whose body is healing from a deep wound, whose mind is taxed beyond belief. The paralytic he released inside of me for the second time in just a couple of hours keeps us bound together for a long moment in time. I can almost feel our son taking root in my womb. It sounds crazy, but that’s how I feel. Maybe it’s wishful thinking.

  While he’s deep inside me, still semi-erect, I study his face. Brush my hands over his hair. At least when he’s asleep, he’s not ordering me around or pushing himself to the brink.

  Little by little, the paralytic begins to wear off, but I almost wish it wouldn’t. When it does, I’ll have to let him go for real this time…and I’m realizing that’s the last thing I want. I wrap my arm around his waist the second I have control of it. I’m going to hold him until I have to wake him up. I’m going to cherish every moment I have left in his arms.

  I only hope it won’t be our last.

  He sleeps without interruption for a while, as long as I dare let him. Seconds are precious now and we have very few left to make our own. When the shadows have gone from beneath his eyes, I slither over his naked body, mine already weeping with arousal as I position myself astride him.

  This won’t be the last moment we have together, but I worship him like it is. I kiss along his face, graze his lips, and traverse down his neck. He shifts under me, still languid with deep sleep, and his hands twitch by his sides, then go still.

  My bare pussy smears ou
r combined juices over his cock, soft in sleep, but it grows hard beneath me as I move over him. Is this why he enjoys the effects of the toxica? Because I’m his to do with as he pleases? I shouldn’t enjoy it either. Shouldn’t like being at his mercy or taking advantage of his vulnerability, but I do.

  Rekk yes, I do, as he’d say.

  I kiss down across the gleaming white skin of his chest, enjoying the contrast of our skin, the firmness of his muscles, and his twitching body beneath me. Even in sleep, his cock reaches for me, jumps at my touch as I position it against my clit so I can grind against him. I don’t want to take him inside, not yet. Not until I can see his eyes dilating with pleasure.

  At the first hitch of my hips over his engorged flesh, his hands come to rest on my ass, lightly at first, then with more pressure. Even in sleep he reaches for me. Wants me.

  I arch my back, letting my hair tumble free over my shoulders. The heavy weights of my breasts ache for the punishing touch of my mate, my Avrell, as I begin to move. Pleasure spears up from the source of delicious friction, the promise of his cock being inside me once more, the tease of giving myself only a taste of what I want. At my responding moan, Avrell’s head thrashes from side to side, as though straining up from his deep slumber to reach me.

  I lose myself in touching and teasing my fill. My lips and tongue taste his mouth, memorize its shape and flavor. When I go to move away to find another place to kiss, one of his hands captures the back of my head and holds me close. It’s only a suggestion of his strength, but it’s enough to keep me in place, enough to open my mouth to him as his tongue thrusts against mine.

  Without words, his other hand moves to his cock and he angles it inside in one quick movement, like we’ve been lovers for eons instead of only one night. My moan is sharp and keening against his kiss, which gives him a jolt, and I open my eyes to find his watching me, finally fully awake.

  He gives me another kiss before saying, “I prefer waking up like this, stormy one. You can be my alarm any time.” He taps my ass. “Roll over. Let me have you.”