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"Well, it was just like when we fought those bugs. Same thing."

I'm tiptoeing around it. I'd heard his voice calling out in the darkness. And when I'd found him, our bodies had responded to each other's touch with all the potency of a blistering climax. There can only be one explanation for what happened, but I don't know how to ask him about it. I can feel his tension. He's like a rabbit on the verge of bolting to safety. One wrong move and I've lost him.

"Of course," I say. "But, did you feel... Something else?"

"I felt..." He shakes his head. "Nothing."

Such a terrible liar.

"Nothing?" I press, as gently as I can. "Because?—"

"I should head back," he says abruptly. "Or else they're going to send out a search party." But he doesn't move.

Tension crackles between us. I understand. He wants me to leave.

I nod and force myself to step back from him. "I'm sure they've noticed by now that the Shalkek have gone missing."

Swallowing my frustration, I turn to leave.

"Airos."

Jackson strides forward and catches my wrist. His face scrunches in frustration, struggling to find words that seem to hang on his tongue.

"Fuck it," he says, and before I can reply, he's pulling me toward him, and then his mouth is on mine.

We stumble into the nearby tent—thank the gods it's empty—and with a quick jerk, I pull the flap closed behind us.

Jackson's mouth is warm and desperate against mine, his hands fisted in the front of my robe as he pulls me closer. There's a tremor in his touch—not fear, but the raw uncertainty of a man crossing a line he's never dared approach before. His lips are soft, tentative at first, like he's waiting for me to pull away.

I don't.

Instead, I cup his face with one hand, my thumb brushing against the sharp line of his jaw as I deepen the kiss. He makes a small sound—part surprise, part relief—and opens for me. The taste of him floods my senses, salt and warmth and something uniquelyJacksonthat makes my phoenix energy surge beneath my skin.

Gods.This kiss is like no other. I drink it in and crave more, and it's like no amount could possibly satiate our thirst. There's no other omega in this world I could experience this with—I know this for certain. Denying myself a mate has never been difficult, because I hadn't known Jackson yet.Heis what I've been saving myself for. This moment.

Jackson's breathing hitches when I trace my tongue along his bottom lip, and I feel the exact moment his walls crumble. His grip on my robe tightens, pulling me flush against him until there's no space left between our bodies. The warmth radiating from his pregnant belly is intoxicating, and I can smell his arousal mixing with the desert air—a scent that makes every instinct I have roar to life. He accepts my tongue as I plunge it into his mouth, and lets out a soft groan as he swirls his against mine.

We finally break apart, and a trail of saliva glimmers in the moonlight from his tongue to mine like a spider's thread. We're both breathing hard. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, and there's a flush creeping up his neck that I want to trace with my tongue. It feels like we've just traded blows.

"Fuck," he whispers.

Still cautious not to frighten him away, I carefully push my fingers through his hair and slowly rest my forehead against his. As my hand reaches the base of his neck, I feel the rapid flutter of his pulse against my palm. "Jackson?—"

"Don't," he says quickly. "Don't say anything that's going to make me think too hard about this. 'Cause I have no idea what the hell I'm doing right now."

I notice the evidence of his arousal growing firm and insistent through the fabric of his clothes. His breath catches as he realizes it too, and tries to pull back, but I catch him with my hand at the small of his back and hold him. I want him to understand there's no shame in this. There's nothing to fear.

"Then let me show you," I tell him.

I draw him into another kiss, and the moment my lips are on his, I feel some of the tension melt away from his body. I tilt my hips so that my thigh presses up against the shape of his erect cock. He draws in a sharp breath, then slips his hands around my back and presses himself even tighter against me. I slowly tracemy hand southwards along the shape of his bottom, and with a squeeze of my palm I encourage him to explore the way rubbing himself on my body feels. He makes small movements with his hips, and a quiet murmur rumbles from his throat as I claim his lips again. He pushes his tongue into my mouth and slicks it against mine with eager ferocity.

"You like that, do you?" I ask.

"Shut up," he groans, and drives his face into my neck. I feel the heat of his breath on my skin, deep and ravenous, as he murmurs, "How thefuckdo you smell so good?"

His tongue on my neck sends an explosion of power through my body. My cock flexes. It's rock hard, on the verge of ripping a hole through the front of my robe. "Come here," I grunt, lifting him onto my waist and carrying him to a mound of furs spread across the ground. I come down on top of him, driving my hand between his legs to caress the outline of his erection. I'm trying to use some restraint, but the sight of his shape alone is enough to stoke the fire inside of me.

To my surprise, Jackson grabs me by the belt and pulls me between his open thighs. In one smooth action he hooks his legs around me and somehow manages to flip me onto my back. I lie there, blinking in shock as he smirks down at me. He takes the ceremonial cords off his neck and then tugs his cloak over his head and tosses them all aside. I reach up and slip my fingers beneath the thin fabric of hisshurrt, but he catches my hand and pins it to the ground.