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“Don’t know,” he rasped. “Let’s try again so I can have a more informed opinion.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” I said after a moment’s indecision. And it was not a short moment, either. Because I was a weak, weak woman.

But I had to hold firm. If I tried kissing him again, I really would stand to make a complete and utter fool of myself. Even now, my clit was throbbing needily.

Kissing him again would just be torture at this point.

Even if not kissing him, rather frighteningly, also felt like torture.

“So, what now? We just go to sleep?” He sounded incredulous.

“I guess so. We do have a long day of travel ahead tomorrow.”

Tenn flopped onto his back.

“You’re right,” he said. “You need your rest.”

“So do you!” I said. He was the one doing most of the work out here. I was basically just along for the ride.

“Rest is just about the last thing on my mind,” he said. “Besides, I told you about Zabrian stamina.”

Oh, no. He should not be using the word stamina around me right now. It was sending my mind in all kinds of pervy directions.

But all pervy-ness ceased when Tenn suddenly said, in a harshly bitter voice, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For the hook. On my belt. I wish you’d told me sooner.”

“Oh, Tenn. No. Seriously, it’s fine. Here, look.” I hoisted up my shirt a few inches, baring my belly. “No bruise. See? Just like I told you.”

There was a red mark, but it had already mostly faded throughout the afternoon. Even so, he homed in on that mark instantly, his eyes providing enough light to guide his knuckles to the spot.

“It doesn’t hurt,” I whispered.

Tenn let out a sigh between his fangs, gently tugged my shirt back down, and muttered, “Good.”

That was what I fell asleep to mere moments later.

The echo of Tenn’s gruff voice in my head.

Good.

18

TENN

Tasha may have been able to fall asleep after the revelation that was human kissing, but I could not. Every breath I took, every tiny movement, threatened to send my cock spewing into my trousers. So, when I was certain Tasha was settled and that I would not wake her, I rose and stole from the tent.

I stalked aimlessly through the darkness, my fingers flexing and clenching at my sides, my crotch tight and aching. I wanted to do a million things at once. I wanted to kiss Tasha again. I wanted to let out a whoop. I wanted to grab someone by the shoulders so I could shout in their face about what had just happened. About what I was feeling.

I wanted to go back to the tent and kiss her again. And again. And again.

And then I wanted to do even more.

Did all the men feel this way when they’d first kissed their women? Did Fallon and Silar and Garrek all feel this… This tempest when they touched their wives? Tasha had done nothing but rain down her human sweetness upon me. And now, I was all cut up. Broken open. Ravaged as if by a storm.

I’d never felt so alive.