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“Pretty name,” I say, although I know she doesn’t understand.

Earlier tonight I realized I could do anything I want to this female.

I’m so much bigger and stronger than her, I could .

. . force things. Rape, though, isn’t allowed on my planet.

It’s abhorrent. I could never, would never, cross that line, even with an enemy.

Remembering that I can say anything with impunity, I ask, “Why are you doing this? You think I’m capable of rape, you have to know the position you’ve put yourself in would tempt even the most honorable male. And from what you know of me, you couldn’t be certain I’m honorable. Why?”

Her head is angled as she pierces me with her gaze and shakes her head clearly not having a clue as to what I’m asking

I tuck her head against my chest, both for warmth and to keep her intelligent eyes from gleaning too much information.

It’s quiet.

We don’t have snow on Draal, but I saw it once on planet Pythian. My brother and I were in the same platoon. He got separated from us. Through our psychic link, I knew he was hurt, dying. My captain forbade me to search for him, but I snuck out to find him . . . or his body.

I thought I would die that night—many times. It was desperately cold, colder than it is now, but I had layers of clothes, including my thick uniform coat. It hung to my knees and kept me warm, but it was stark crimson against the white snow. It was a miracle the enemy didn’t spot me.

I found Zorn dying in a puddle of his own blood.

Enemy fire had nicked his carotid artery.

Ironic that the cold which almost killed him slowed the bleeding and put him into torpor.

I carried him back and our medics healed him.

We always had a strong bond, stronger than most clutchmates, but this bound us together even more tightly.

We have a psychic link, but I can’t reach him. I pray he’s safe. If he’s alive, he’s probably looking for me right now.

We’re a good pair, he and I. I’m more of a doer, he’s a thinker. He scolds me for being impulsive, I chide him for being too analytical. I wish he was here now. Together we’d figure out how to find our platoon and get out of here. If he’s alive, he’s looking for me right now.

On Pythian, I found that the blanket of snow creates a hush. It’s the same here. All I hear is the snapping and popping logs, and Lumina’s breathing.

The back of my hand feels as if it was burned along the line where it grazed her nipple. The thought pops into my head that when I’m ninety I’ll still remember the exact path her nipple trailed oh so many years ago back in that cave on Earth.

Right now, I feel their two pebbled points press against my chest. My cocks hardened the moment my body began to warm. How could I blame them? They’re nestled against her belly, her soft skin covers mine. I feel her quick, warm puffs of breath dance across my skin.

I’m warmer now. Truth be told, although I’m still chilled, I wouldn’t go into torpor if I let her roll off me right now. But I don’t want her to.

Her muscles aren’t rigid anymore. The longer we’ve lain like this, the more relaxed they’ve become. Since my hand already left the warmth it found when it was wedged between our bodies, I might as well put it to good use. I stroke her hair.

Draals don’t have hair. I’ve stroked household pets before, but never anything like this. Her yellow hair feels like silken springs. It’s fun to touch—and arousing. I wait for her to protest.

“Tell me to stop. If you want.” It’s not a very generous offer, since she has no idea what I said.

For once she’s quiet, so I proceed. Just this gentle stroking of her curls. My cocks kick at the joy of this, the intimacy. She pretends she doesn’t notice them pulsing against her belly.

“I’ve never been with a female,” I say into the quiet air.

It was unnecessary. Not only can’t she understand a word I say, but if she knows about Draals, she also knows there are no available females on our planet.

The few that are born are placed into arranged marriages before their first birthday and they’re cloistered after that.

Cocking my head, I observe her face from an angle.

What I see highlights our differences. She has eyebrows instead of browridges.

Pale eyelashes fan her cheeks. And her nose can be seen in profile where all I have is a slight bump.

Could I get used to this, I wonder. Could I ever find her attractive?

The blood pulsing through my cocks tells me I already do.

The Earther is quiet, which doesn’t bode well. Earlier tonight she chirped constantly; I decided it was anxiety. But her silence? I wonder if that’s somehow worse.

“Why are you quiet, Lumina?”

“I don’t understand what’s going on,” she says as if she understood my question. “This situation is so . . . unexpected.”

She’s right. The situation is odd. I don’t know how I got to this planet, where my platoon is, or what my mission is, but perhaps this circumstance is a stroke of luck.

She risked her safety to rescue me from the capsule, then brought me to the cave, treated my injury, and is now lying here like this—to warm me.

I allow my hand to stroke lower, as it leaves the safety of toying with her curls and touches the skin on her back.

“You’re freezing,” I say as I tuck the blanket more securely around her shoulders. Instead of tightening at this small incursion, her muscles relax.

“You like my touch.” My announcement shocks me. How could she? She was terrified a few hours ago, but she seems to have calmed as we’ve lain together.

I become bolder. My palm sweeps past shoulder blades, down her backbone, skirts her ribs, and lodges at the small of her back.

When one finger slips below her waist, she says, “Uh . . .” This is her eloquent announcement that I’ve gone too far.

“Point taken,” I tell her as I inch my hand away from the invisible boundary.

It takes only a moment for her muscles to slacken again. My fingers and palm explore the rectangle of her back—up and down, side to side. Too close to the swell of her breasts on either side garners me another, “Uh.” Otherwise, she’s content to let me pet her.

“Are you beginning to trust me, Lumina? I’d like that.” My voice sounds deep to my ears, perhaps too loud in this quiet space.

As if to confirm that I was correct about her appreciating my touch, her little tan hand moves from where it was lodged at my side and rests on my pec.

This one touch, almost innocent, sets off a tremor throughout my body. I wish I could contain it, but it’s a reflex.

Growing up on Draal, knowing the dire problems our global warming caused, the severe shortage of female clutches, I knew with certainty I would never have the opportunity to enjoy the touch of a female. To have this now, innocent as it may be, floods me with emotion.

“I like it when you touch me, Lumina,” I croon.

She lifts her head to look at me, her blue eyes inspecting me closely as her other hand moves between us mirroring the first to gently rest on my pec.

I show her my emotion and let my lids close. I don’t even try to hide my deep sigh.

When she lifts her torso higher to look at me more closely, her pebbled nipples drag against me. I shudder, accompanied by a noise that erupts from the back of my throat. It’s a cross between a groan and a hiss.

“Are you warm enough, Zoriss?” Her pretty head is cocked as she awaits my answer as if it’s of the utmost importance. Did I just think of her as pretty? Obviously, I’m finding her more attractive with every passing minute.

Do I tell her the truth? Will I nod my head only to have her roll off of me and show me her back as she did earlier?

Despite my desire to the contrary, though, I am an honorable male. I tell the truth—always. Reluctantly, I nod my head.

The tiniest smile lifts the corners of her lips and instead of rolling away, she straddles me, her chest still pressed to mine, but her knees are now digging into the sleeping bag under my hips.

I swallow and let my gaze drink her in. Did I think she was bland and unattractive only hours ago? She is the very definition of beauty.

Her rounded breasts, the pink nipples hard and begging to be held in my palms. Her pouty lips, her springy curls, the swell of her hips. I could look at her all day. But I won’t.

She’s given me an invitation, the least I can do is give her reassurance in return.

“No means no, Lumina,” I say in her language having heard it earlier. “I understand.”

Now a true smile lights her face. My mission is accomplished. I’ve set her worries to rest.