Men and women alike gave him a wide berth, melting out of his path. He cut through them as easily as a wild beast loose amid the civilized.
It wasn’t just because he was Vestige. Even among his own people, he stood out. Fierce and scary and a little mean. And she walked beside him. She slept beside him.
And maybe... maybe they weren’t as different as they’d thought at first. The last of the streetlamps was behind them, so she couldn’t read his face.
The ship was close now, but she didn’t want to go there. Not anymore. Once they were there, everything would go back to the way it had been.
She slowed her pace, glaring at his ship, hulking black in the darkness. “So, this is it, then. Our last night? You’ll take me to Pax-Ahora tomorrow?” Her voice caught on the last word.
He stared back at her, the pearly orbs of his eyes locked on hers.
“And I’ll never see you again.”
His brows knitted together.
“I’ll almost miss you,” she whispered.
“Klym,” he said, turning her to face him, and he didn’t say anything else. Just walked her back so her shoulder blades pressed against the ship’s cool hull.
His boots came forward to settle on either side of her slippers, and his shoulders loomed above her. It was so much like that first day, only gone was the threat. He traced his nose along her temple, inhaling so long and slow.
The cool night air heated around them. He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, and it made her want to cry.
Sweetness from this man, of all men. Something hard pressed against her belly, and a low, steady pulse pounded between her thighs in response.
Of course he’d decide on this night, their last night, to be sweet. “You make no sense,” she whispered as his nose trailed down her ear, his stubble bristling down her neck.
“I make perfect sense.”
“No, you don’t. You change constantly.”
He shook his head. “You’re the one who keeps changing on me.”
She rested her hands on his chest, her fingers splaying over his warm, shirt-covered chest. “I’m the same. You just didn’t see me.”
His fingers tightened on her hips. “I see you.”
Her heart skipped a beat.
“And I like what I see.”
Her heart skipped two beats.
Her hands drifted higher, sliding up around his thick shoulders. When she pressed her hips against him, he hummed a low, raspy growl that swirled in her ears.
“You blow hot and cold with the minute,” she breathed.
“I’m hot right now.” His words were nothing more than a breath as his lips trailed across her cheek, but a hard weight did press against her abdomen, and it was decidedly hot.
“I can feel that,” she blurted.
His laugh drifted over her skin. “Are you talking about my organ again, Klym? I can only assume you are interested.”
And damn him, she was curious. It was as if the thing had magnets or something. All she wanted was to press against it.
He grazed his teeth along her neck.
“Is it like that because of me?” She just had to know.
“Hard? Yeah.”
“Because you want me?” She needed to hear it. “The way a man wants a woman?”
“I want you, Klym.” His low, breathy laugh hit her low in the belly. “The way a Prime wants a woman.”
The bottom dropped out of her stomach. Just slipped right out and hit the wet ground of an alien planet. He wanted her. He wanted to… mate with her.
She should be thinking about getting home, but her brain refused. It was their last night. And her body wanted him.
“I want to kiss you,” he breathed, his breath fanning over her skin.
She blinked up at him.
“Do you want me to?”
She licked her lips. Shuffled her feet. Took a deep breath. “Yes. I want you to kiss me.” Like I’ve never wanted anything in my entire caged life.
He trailed a finger down her neck, and that one touch made her shiver from the top of her head to the bottom of her toes, as if every cell in her body had just come fully alert. His mouth curved in a deadly smile. “Go inside, then, and we’ll finish what you started.”
“What I started?”
“You brought up my organ.”
He had a point there, really.
15
Come to Vesta with me
TOR WATCHED KLYM as she walked down the passageway, shoulders back, head tilted in its eternally snooty angle.
Neena had been right. She’d make one hell of a selissa. Now that he knew she was going to be his, all he wanted to do was shove his way inside her and stake his claim.
She glanced at him over her shoulder, and a line formed between her brows. “You’ve the strangest look on your face. What are you thinking?”
He should tell her about Agammo’s father and the arrangement for peace—he should tell her that they were going to lift off in the morning, and that he was going to genuinely abduct her this time—because she wasn’t going to get a choice.
He should tell her she was going to Vesta, a place she’d sworn she’d never go, and she was going to be his selissa, but somehow… he just couldn’t. She’d get that sad, trapped look in her eyes like it was the worst sacrifice she’d make in her whole sad life. Maybe he could show her what they could be tonight, and then it wouldn’t be so hard when she found out in the morning.
He held out his hand. “Are you ready?”
“Just like that?” Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, clearly thinking he meant to shove her up against the bulkhead again and kiss her.
“Just like that.”
She nibbled her lip, glancing around the passageway.
Because he wanted to, he reached up and tugged at a few of the pins holding her hair up. It all dropped down her back, thick coils of gold, shimmering in the light like the sea on Vesta. He pushed a heavy coil of it over her shoulder. “What do you plan to do in Argentus?”
Her eyes flared, and her lips dropped open. “I don’t know.”
“Does anyone there want you?”
Her mouth tightened, and her chin jutted out. “Nearly every man on Argentus wants a woman. One of them would take me—it’s what I was born to do.”
He could well imagine they would, but it wasn’t the same thing. “And you? Do you want any of them?”
“The Bonding would make me want them.”
“I thought you wanted to be free.”
She lifted a shoulder. “No one is free, isn’t that what you always say?”
He touched her jaw. “Come with me to Vesta.”
Her brows drew together in a sad little frown. “You said yourself, the Alliance would kill me.”
Not if they were married. He trailed his hand up her neck. Smooth skin. Like velvet under the pad of his finger. “I could protect you. You aren’t my enemy.”
Her smile was almost coy. “Not so long ago I was your enemy.”
“The Alliance will come for you.”
Her eyes widened. “Even on Pax-Ahora?”
“Possibly.”
She swallowed, eyes darting around the room. “I can’t. We’re enemies. The people would hate me. I’d never be accepted. What would I do there?”
He could think of a lot of things he’d like to do with her there. “They would accept you if I made them.”
She turned her face away from him like she was seeking out all the many reasons they shouldn’t be together. But he’d already thought of them, and every last one of them was bullshit. “Assuming you wanted to. And what if you didn’t. What if you changed your mind?”
“I wouldn’t.”
“You might. You do constantly.”
He clenched his jaw. “Then we should enjoy tonight.”
The lace of her dress rasped against his hands as he slid them down her hips to grip her ass. It wasn’t exactly a gentle touch, but it wasn’t rough either. He tugged on the dress, dr
agging it up by fistfuls, until he found the soft skin of her round ass.
He groaned, dragging his nose along her hairline, breathing in that indescribable fruit.
“But we don’t know what will happen.” She broke off on a strangled moan when he rocked his aching cock against her belly. “This could trigger a Bonding.”
“It won’t. We won’t have sex.” Yet.
Her hands moved restlessly against his chest. “This isn’t decent.”
That made him laugh. She hadn’t been so concerned about decency a minute ago. “You’re thinking like you’re still on Argentus, but you’re not.” He spoke in her ear, just a whisper, letting his lips touch the sensitive skin there and trailed his mouth lower, breathing along the path his tongue made, knowing it would make her shiver in the cool air. “There’s no such thing as decency on Vesta. We just do what we want. You don’t have to follow any rules with me. Just be you.”
“B-but we can’t…”
“Can’t what?” He swallowed a laugh. “Reproduce?”
“Yes. No. I mean, no we can’t do that.”
“We’re not going to. I just want to touch you.” Even if they did, she wouldn’t get pregnant. Not unless he wanted her to and went into full rut.
When he caught her earlobe between his teeth, her whimper echoed across the room. It sounded like heaven. It sounded like acceptance. It sounded like a mother-fucking yes.
And he wished he could take it that way, but he had no clue what would happen, and while it would be fun to spend a few days lost in an Argenti Bonding or out of their minds in a daze of heated rabid fucking Vestige style, he didn’t have time. They needed to get to Tamminia.
He pressed against her, let her feel him. Let her know him.
By the time his lips met hers, she was breathing hard, her mouth slack, eyes shut. He hadn’t even touched her yet. Not really. Mostly they were just breathing together and letting their bodies find their rhythm.
He lifted her until her feet left the floor and she had no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist. It brought her higher, so he didn’t have to bend over to kiss her. She was just right there in front of him.
He didn’t need to see to navigate the passageway. He could walk his ship blind. So, he just held her tight and pressed his lips to hers.
She opened slowly, with a taste like summer and cool water, and that fruit. She was shaking, and her fast-beating heart so loud he could hear it.
“Don’t be scared.”
As he laid her on the bed in his chamber, he wasn’t sure if he meant now or later. Maybe both.
The mattress dipped beneath his knee as he pressed it between her parted thighs. He slid his hand under the neck of his shirt and yanked it over his head.
She trailed a fingertip over the scar on his collarbone. “Where did you get this one?”
“I don’t want to talk.” He dimmed the lights to a soft, ruddy haze.
She rested on her elbows, face tight and confused.
“Relax.” He spread her hair along the bed, breathing her in. He skimmed his lips over smooth, tan skin, whispering words in Vestigi, whatever came to mind, not even caring what he said. It didn’t matter. His voice seemed to relax her, so he kept on talking as he pulled at her clothes and smoothed his hands along her skin.
She let out a shaky sigh.
He lowered his lips to hers. “I want you,” he whispered against her lips. And it felt weird speaking to her in his own tongue, more honest somehow. More true.
His fingers fumbled with the complicated knots on her dress.
The vest part fell free, and her glorious tits fell out. He got the fabric all rucked up around her thighs and tugged it over her head. Dropped his mouth to a breast.
The little moans in her throat, hungry and breathy, gusted out against his neck, stuttering like she was trying to find words to give voice to all her stupid ideas about why they shouldn’t do this.
“Stop thinking, abellina.”
Her eyes flashed open. He couldn’t tell if it was surprise at the new term—beautiful one—or irritation written in their depths. He didn’t really care, so he silenced her words with his tongue, his hand sliding between their bodies to settle on a soft, warm thigh.
There was nothing between them now. Just her. And the way she breathed into him, shifted her hips against him. Nothing feigned or calculated. She was operating on pure instinct.
Hot and wet because he’d made her that way.
He sat up, letting his eyes move over her naked body, and cupped his hand over pink skin, letting her get used to the heat of his flattened palm.
He kissed her again, just like that, for a long time. Until her feet and elbows were digging into the mattress and she shifted restlessly beneath him.
“You wanted me to kiss you, right?” he said.
“I didn’t imagine this.”
“But you like it.”
“Yes.” She laughed and sank her fingers into his scalp.
“And you want more.”
“Yes. I like it, and I want more,” she said, tugging at his hair.
“Gladly.” He left her breast, dragged his tongue over her ribs and down the smooth planes of her belly, the dip of her navel, over the rise of her hip bone.
Her hands fisted. “What are y... where are y...” She tried to close her thighs, but he held them firm, biting down on the smooth skin inside her thigh.
A bright laugh burst from her lips. He tilted his face to the side, and she hissed at the drag of his jaw over her thighs.
She tried to buck again, close her legs, but he held her firm.
“You can’t be serious. You mean to put your mouth on me there?”
On, in. Semantics. “Yeah.”
She didn’t resist him, not really.
He lowered his mouth, parted the folds with his tongue—she tasted like the nectar of the old gods—slid one finger in deep where she was fiery hot and slippery wet, and someday soon, his.
Her words trailed off into nothing more than meaningless babble, hands clenching on his.
He looked up, his tongue lapping, in time to see her neck arch back, her ribcage lift high off the bed.
Velvety thighs scissored against his cheeks.
He ground his cock into the mattress, as she belted out a crescendo of confused moans, and she fluttered around his fingers, snug and tight.
And like this, without all the strictures, all her buttons undone, hair wild against the pillow, coming on his tongue, she was unruly, beautiful and free.
He brought her down slowly, until she lay on the bed, legs sprawled, arms over her head, hair a mess, panting. All trace of straitlaced Argenti modesty forgotten.
She didn’t even try to close her legs when he reared up on his knees and unzipped his pants.
It took about two seconds from the time his cock was in his hand.
Her curious eyes settled on him, and if there was one thing his cock was happy to do in that moment, it was perform. The thing twitched and swelled, and his balls tightened, and he came hard, all over her stomach, spurt after spurt, marking her from her soft thighs to the column of her throat. Grunting and twitching and gasping.
Surprise registered on her face, and a hand came up, hovering. For a moment, Tor thought maybe she’d try to touch him, but he kept on coming, and she pulled her hand back, sinking her teeth into her lower lip.
Her dress lay tangled beneath her. His pants were still down around his thighs. Not exactly the planned seduction he’d intended. But there was still time. They had all night.
And in the morning...
“Come to Vesta,” he whispered.
She sighed, half asleep. “I can’t. We’re enemies.”
They would be soon. “We don’t have to be.”
16
Even a toilet is softer than you
KLYM WOKE SLOWLY, her body boneless.
The skin between her thighs throbbed. A little achy there. Tor and his endlessly wicked fingers hadn’t been
all that gentle. But the ache was worth it. Entirely worth it.
She rolled onto her back and slid her hands down her bare stomach, over her thighs. The skin was tender there, from his beard scratching. Also worth it.
A flash of his dimples tightening as he’d held that long, thick part of himself in his fist, lust stabbing its way through her low belly.
And the look in his eyes.
How could she bear to be parted from him after that? Could she? She didn’t want to. He’d offered to take her home with him.
He’d whispered to her, the silvery orbs of his eyes gleaming in the dark. Abellina. Beautiful.
Siarina. Sweet. Blitana. Perfect.
He cared for her. She knew he did. No one could say those things to her, look at her the way he had, without caring—at least a little. And she didn’t want to leave him. Nothing waited for her on Argentus except shame and people who didn’t want her. For the first time, a part of her wanted to know what happened when an Argenti and a Vestige mated.
She rolled over again, reaching across the cold sheets.
Where was he?
Light pooled along the edge of the door. The ship hummed all around them.
She frowned.
The ship shouldn’t be humming. Not unless they’d already left Frigorria.
She slid from the bed, padding across the floor, snagging one of Tor’s shirts from the closet on her way.
It smelled like him. She smiled faintly as she tugged it over her head. She probably smelled like him too.
She found him in the bridge. A mug steamed in his hand, rising up to get lost in the viewscreen where a band of gray asteroids drifted past.
Why had he taken off? Where were they going? He didn’t turn back to look at her, and she stared at the back of his head, his dark hair caught up in a bun at the back of his head. “Morning, abellina.”
“Where are we going?”
“Home.” His voice echoed like a war drum.
She dug her toes into the icy cold floor of the bridge, dread sliding up her spine. “Your home or mine?”
He sipped his drink. “Ours.”
“Say you don’t mean Vesta.” The words came out sharp and fast, each consonant spat out and raging in the air between them.
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