Page 29 of Dark Survivor (The Qaldreth Warriors #2)

Chapter Seventeen

Tiny blinked in the direction of the door. Just like that, she was alone on an alien spaceship heading to a planet no human had been to before.

She faced her temporary home. “Am I crazy?”

She’d fired off a quick message to Dad, skimming over the details. That she couldn’t share her plans said it all. They’d have her committed for sure. She stifled a giggle at the idea of being in the same rehab center as Jamie. They’d have to put a guard at his door.

That thought destroyed her good humor.

Dealing with her anger, resentment, and unforgiveness wasn’t on today’s agenda, so she shoved them down.

A time would come when she’d be forced to face how she felt about him.

The maturer Tiny understood that her parents couldn’t abandon him, no matter what he did.

She also accepted that going off-world meant they’d once again focus on him since he was closer.

Her relationship with her family…might never be her idea of normal.

She skimmed her hand over the wall to find her bag, then lugged it toward the hidden closets. This room was smaller than Celestial’s but not as miniscule as on the Mula Pesada . And she had Nenn next door.

Her heartbeat scattered, fluttering butterflies in her chest, while it found its rhythm again. Everything had gone bat-shit crazy. From worrying about what to do to stave off boredom to people dying, healing prisoners, letting an alien man charm her, to ‘moving in’ with him.

“And you haven’t even slept with him yet.” She snorted at that. “Matter of time,” she muttered. She almost rolled her eyes at that bit of nonsense. Having had zero sex since her kidnapping incident, she’d give her left kidney for a little action.

Farg . Just to be held, if she was being honest with herself. Humans needed affection. She craved that and sex. If Nenn cuddled afterward, she was keeping him.

It didn’t take her long to pack away her meager belongings.

She stripped and tested out the shower, towel-dried herself, then climbed into bed. Exhaustion sapped her energy, and she sank into the mattress with a moan. But sleep didn’t come. She lay there, her mind reeling. Alone. Blind. In space. She couldn’t be more vulnerable than that.

The only people she could lean on were Nenn and Vic, who was a little preoccupied.

So, just Nenn then. She sat up, and sniffed, the tears falling without warning.

“Computer,” she whispered, “Please play my beats.” Silence met her request. She laughed amid sobs.

“Play the audiobook?” This time, she succumbed and let the weight of sorrow bow her shoulders and her tears dribble off her chin.

Warm arms engulfed her. Without questioning the sensation, she curled into the embrace.

She’d cried over the loss of her eyesight, prospects, and a career so many times but hadn’t truly let herself grieve.

She’d promised herself she’d do it tomorrow, or when she had a steady job, or found her place in the world…

And when those moments had presented themselves, she hadn’t taken the opportunity.

A hand stroked her bare back, another splayed at the base of her spine, sending tingles outward. The cologne was sunlight and hot rock. She stiffened mid-sniffle. Her cheeks exploded with heat. Oh my word, I’m naked.

“Nenn?” she asked, her voice hoarse. Oh, Lord, let it not be a stranger.

“Yes, hirihadie ?” He tightened his arms, crushing her against him.

She exhaled in a sigh.

Velvet skin, as bare as hers, was under her fingertips. Her breath hitched. Desire unfurled in her belly, but she didn’t pull away. Gathered against him allowed her to maintain her modesty, for now.

“Was I too loud?” she asked, clinging to his chest.

“I apologize. I could not bear your pain a moment longer.” When he unraveled his arms and stepped back, she squeaked, yanking the sheet up to her chin.

“Why are you shirtless? Did…” She winced. He might have been readying for bed or in the shower… “Did I disturb you?”

“Never, Tiny,” he said, his voice husky. “I am not naked. My symbiotes form an armor, even beneath my pants and boots.”

She frowned, throwing out a hand and smacking his chest. For a moment, she met a wall of solid muscle before hot velvet registered. “I felt it… You said your armor fades.” Wow. It coming and going had to be an awesome sight.

“At your touch, yes.” He layered his hot hand over hers, trapping her.

“I need my sleepshirt,” she said, nudging her chin at the hidden closet.

He released her and marched across, proving he wore boots. She hadn’t heard him enter. Grimacing at what he’d walked in on, she massaged her temple. Why do I insist on embarrassing myself?

“What is a sleepshirt?” he asked.

“A garment that covers my top half.” She smiled. “I don’t have symbiotes.”

The riffling stopped. His breathing turned ragged, then the closet panels popped open and shut. He returned to her and placed something on her lap.

She tested the texture of the fabric and grinned. “Please, turn around.”

“Why?” he asked.

“So that you don’t see me naked. Humans are fussy like that.”

When he shuffled, she had to assume he’d granted her some modesty.

She dropped the sheet, flicked out the shirt, and peeled it on.

“Thanks,” she said, tugging the hem beneath the sheet to cover her hips and ass.

“Um, Nenn, would you mind if I read you?” She moved to the edge of the bed, angling toward him while praying he’d let her.

He caught her hand and rested it over a pec. “I do not understand.” His chest rose and fell, a little fast. His heartbeat thumped against her palm.

“So I can visualize what you look like.”

“If I can read you?” he asked.

She laughed. “Sure.” She pushed herself onto her knees to give her a little height then peeled her hand out from under his.

This close, heat poured off him. She slid her fingers up, his sternum guiding her to his collarbones, his strong neck to his sharp jawline.

Fluttering over his face, she halted at the top, by his temple.

Hair tickled her knuckles, so she dived in, stroking the silkiness of his… mohawk.

He shuddered. Though she didn’t know what that meant.

She smiled. “Love the hairstyle.”

He didn’t respond. She shrugged and continued over winged brows, flickering eyelashes, and a long nose to soft lips, wide and full. He exhaled, blasting her fingers with warmth.

With a shiver she couldn’t hide, she withdrew her hands. He’s gorgeous. Her mouth dried, forcing her to lick her lips. It would be so easy to place a kiss on any part of him within reach.

“My turn,” he growled.

He caressed her from temple to chin, his touch gentle but pulsing waves of goose bumps outward.

A stroke along the shell of her ear and a thumb running the length of her jaw to her chin shot her breathing to hell.

She pinched her thighs together and shifted nearer to him.

He brushed his fingers over her lips, using a little force to part them.

With a groan, he pressed his mouth to hers.

She gasped in surprise. His lips were so supple. Her senses zinged. She gripped his torso and retreated to angle her head for a better taste, but he broke away, almost sending her toppling forward.

“Forgive me,” he mumbled.

She frowned. “I—”

He cupped her face and kissed her again.

She glided her hands around his waist, leaning against him and trapping him.

This time, she hurried to slip her tongue in, moaning when his taste tightened the knot of lust in her core.

He stiffened, but she was beyond stopping, desperate to learn every crevice of his mouth.

When she thought he’d pull back, he didn’t.

Instead, he splayed his hands between her shoulder blades and crushed her within his embrace.

Want, need, lust, desire…whatever the word, she didn’t care. Kissing him was heavenly, more so when he ravaged her, owning her senses. Never had she been so overwhelmed and in such a good way.

He dusted his lips along her cheek to her temple, his breathing harsh. “This face-latching is called kissing, or so Drafe said. I never expected it to be this wonderful. With you, Tiny, I have no resistance.”

Face what? He’d never kissed anyone? She blinked, her thoughts…

wits scattered. “It’s called many things,” she managed.

Her pulse skipped a beat at the realization she rattled him as much as he did her.

She ran her fingers to his chin, then pressed her lips there.

“Peck.” Another on his cheek with a lip-smacking sound.

“Smooch.” And before her courage abandoned her, she whispered into his mouth, “This is French.”

With him so attentive, she flicked the tip of her tongue along his bottom lip then dove in.

He growled and glided his hands around to sink his fingers into her ass.

Not once did she think his touch too intrusive.

She relished ever caress and squeeze, like the long stroke when he’d carried her, going from the underside of her thighs, along her ass to her back.

At the time, she’d assumed he’d done that to ensure she found her balance.

But now, with his mouth on hers, perhaps he’d been more attracted to her than she’d picked up.

Panting, he broke the kiss but didn’t release her. “No wonder humans greet each other like this.”

“What?” She lifted her head from where she’d rested her temple on his sculpted pec, drawing in his scent with every ragged breath. “Only lovers,” she hurried to say in case Qaldreths went around kissing diplomats.

He hummed, caught her chin, then angled her head for another kiss. “I could French kiss you forever,” he rasped.

She was butter in his hands. Not the hard kind, but the gooey, melt-in-your-mouth kind. Her taut nipples throbbed, her sex thrummed, her stomach tightened, and she’d swear she’d developed a fever. What she wanted was for him to throw her down and plunder her.