Page 14 of Guardian’s Destiny (Space Guardian’s Mate #3)

SLOANE

I yearned for a good night's sleep, but as always, it just didn't want to come. Tonight's show had been brought on by Deputy Director Jane Austin. The woman who had recruited me for the CIA. My boss, mentor, and friend. The one who had betrayed me and our country. The one I had to shoot and kill during a late night meeting with her and the man who had turned her to the enemy side. Khalid Al-Mansour and four of his bodyguards. I took them all down, but only one survived, Rashid Al-Hakim.

Killing your immediate supervisor is a punishable offense as it turned out, and the CIA had been ready to court martial me, but good old Tuck bailed me out and thrown the whole case wide open by making Rashid talk and admit to the conspiracy that would have killed thousands of innocent people and clearing my name. A few months later, the Cryons came, and none of this mattered any longer. I lost track of Tuck, and that was it.

Or so it seemed on the surface. Beneath the surface, there was still a lot of grief, guilt, and mourning for Jane's death. No matter how deserved it had been. I wanted to hate her, but for years, she had been a friend, nearly a mother figure. One of the hardest things I learned in life was reconciling hate and grief. It was hard enough being a female in any kind of power position, but when one abused it, betrayed it, it made all of us look even worse.

Vraax quietly snored in his little corner of our room, driving me crazy with the peace he found in sleep. The urge to toss a pillow at him was tempting. God, that would feel good because tonight's restlessness was all because of him.

When I exited the shower, dressed in clean clothes, like a good girl, he had stood butt naked in our room.

"Good grief," I exclaimed at the sight of him, unable to look away quickly enough. First, because my gaze got captured by his mating marks, running all the way down his side, hips, and leg, and once my gaze traveled down that line, it inadvertently caught on what hung between his legs. And fuck me, if that hadn't been the most gorgeous sight I had ever seen. Semi hard, it was already larger than any cock I had ever come close to, thick and glistening silver it created a heating sensation through my core that got worse the moment I spied the ridges on his length. Ridges!

Ever since I caught the glimpse of that beautiful cock it had been on my mind, tormenting me and my pussy in ways that left the latter drenched and throbbing, crying for that beautiful shaft to fill me.

"About time," Vraax had replied with a smirk, screaming of satisfaction that he had noticed where my eyes had traveled and my unveiled astonishment. For the first time in a long time, I hadn't been able to school my features in time, because come on, ridges ?

As good as the shower had felt, I was already drenched in sweat again, despite the climate-controlled room and mattress. A fever of a different kind was ravaging my body, making it impossible to find rest.

Briefly, I contemplated taking care of things myself because he sounded deep asleep, but my pride wouldn't let me. There was no way I was going to get off while he was sleeping only a few feet away from me. If he was sleeping, for all I knew, he could be pretending or be able to see even with his lids closed. These aliens were capable of anything.

Bathroom ? My traitorous mind suggested. Hell no. I was better than that. I could deal with horniness, even if it had reached DEFCOM 1. I was the master of my mind and my body.

I squeezed my legs closer together, rubbing the part that needed relief the most, and turned to the side, only to have my right nipple press into the pillow, sending another jolt of yearning through me.

"Oh, come on," I groaned, turning on my back and reaching for a pillow to press over my head to muffle my frustrated scream.

"You alright over there?" He mumbled.

"Peachy," I replied sharply.

"Can't sleep?"

Oh, he was an Einstein, alright. The master of stating the obvious. "Nope."

He sat up. Don't come over, don't come over, don't come over .

Of course, he did. The mattress shifted as he sat down by the foot of the bed. "Want something to help you sleep?"

A vision of his cock appeared behind my closed lids and I groaned. I was certain that he hadn't alluded to his… anatomy. But any kind of sleeping aid was off the table for me. Not only because I didn't trust him enough to be completely out of my wits, but because there had been a time in my life, a short time, where I had depended too much on sleeping aids.

"I'm good, thank you," I mumbled, trying my best to stay polite.

"Bad dreams?" He kept going no matter how much I willed him to shut up and go back to his corner of the room.

"Bad somethings," I admitted, blaming my overtired mind for divulging so much.

The mattress dipped some more as he leaned forward. "Want to talk about it?"

"Nope."

His sigh was overloud in the quiet room.

Since he didn't seem to be going away, I sat up. "My mind gets restless when I finally lay down," I told him, as much of the truth as I was comfortable sharing.

"That's because you're so frygging tense all the time." He chided. "Here, turn over on your stomach."

"No, thank you."

He sighed again. "Sloane, I swear I will not touch you in any inappropriate way. I just want to help you go to sleep so that I can go to sleep because you keep waking me up."

I grumbled under my breath but finally did as he said. Out of curiosity , I justified to myself. Not because he was demanding it or because I didn't want to be the cause of his sleepless night, although it served him right for parading around naked.

Oh shit, why does my mind have to go there again? Fuck me .

I turned on my stomach, and he scooted around.

"Try to relax, okay?" he advised.

How the hell was I supposed to relax when he was this freaking close?

I took a deep breath in, though, and let it out. "There, happy?"

He didn't reply. Instead, I felt his fingers—his very large, strong fingers—dig into my shoulders. His thumbs moved in circles underneath my shoulder blades, finding a tender spot that had me moan as he applied more pressure.

"So frygging tense," he mumbled.

Shit, oh shit, oh shit , he straddled me. Oh, what new hell was he bringing up on me?

He leaned forward, putting more elbow grease into his hands and fingers, as they massaged up and down my back, finding knots and pushing on them until my toes curled. I bit into the pillow to quieten my moans of pleasure and tried hard to ignore his hardening center pressing into the small of my back.

I would have never allowed any other man to touch me like this, and I wasn't sure why I was letting him, but I was glad I did because, good grief, this man was a god with his fingers. The way he massaged all the knots out of my back created an avalanche of naughty thoughts in my head as I wondered what else his fingers might be good at.

My back was beginning to relax and feel better, but the rest of my body was on high alert, all too aware of his closeness. I didn't think I would ever be able to sleep unless I either took matters into my own hands or seduced the devil sitting on me. Neither option appealed to me because it meant giving in, giving in to him.

But then his fingers moved up to the nape of my neck, his thumbs rested, right there, applying light pressure, while his other fingers began to circle up and down my neck slowly. Oh shit, that felt good.

My entire body began to relax. Even my teeth let go of the pillow. I took a deep, shuddering breath and felt my mind relax. Letting go…