Page 21

TWENTY-ONE

Samantha had spent much of her day exploring Arcanthus’s compound, growing increasingly familiar with the labyrinthine corridors. There were several doors that would not open to her, and despite her curiosity, she never tried any of them more than once. When she felt like she’d seen enough, she headed for the lounge, where she played a few matches of Conquerors with Koroq and Kiloq.

The shift change saw the cren brothers out, and the vorgals, Urgand and Thargen, took their places. An exchange of introductions found her sitting on one of the couches, watching a bloody action movie with the pair. Sam found herself cringing and looking away more often than not, but Thargen whooped and laughed at much of the violence on screen.

There was no denying that he frightened her a little.

She took her leave before the movie had finished and decided to follow a circuitous route to return to the bedroom. Her path took her past the training room. Poking her head inside, she found Sekk’thi in the middle of intense exercise. She watched the ilthurii for a little while before turning to continue her journey.

“Samantha!” Sekk’thi called.

Sam looked back to see the ilthurii jogging toward her. Before she knew what was happening, Sekk’thi was leading her into the training room. Samantha couldn’t help her nervousness—she’d never been in a gym even once, and though she was working on overcoming her self-consciousness with Arc, this was a totally different setting. Sam was out of her element and had no idea what to expect.

They stopped in the middle of a large, square floor mat, and Samantha was surprised when Sekk’thi began instructing her on self-defense techniques.

Samantha raised her fists in front of her, copying Sekk’thi’s stance. “Why are you showing me this?”

Sekk’thi adjusted the positioning of Sam’s arms and kicked her feet farther apart. “Because I spent many years feeling helpless and vulnerable, and I have seen it in your eyes. I do not wish for anyone to feel that way.”

“I’m sorry. For whatever you’ve been through.”

“It was long ago. I am stronger for it. You will also be stronger for your pain.”

Samantha’s initial uncertainty and trepidation vanished as time wore on, and she dedicated herself to learning, going toe-to-toe with Sekk’thi even though she had no hope of winning. The ilthurii was stronger, faster, and infinitely more skilled, but Sam felt empowered for even trying.

If only she’d had a friend on Earth to teach her such things, if only she’d had the confidence and strength to stand up to James and say enough . She focused that deep-seated frustration into every punch, kick, and hold as she sparred with Sekk’thi.

When Sam’s back hit the mat for what might’ve been the hundredth time, she finally gave up.

“Uncle!”

“Uncle?” Sekk’thi stood over Samantha with her head cocked to the side and her scaled brow low. “What does an uncle have to do with this?”

Samantha chuckled breathlessly. Sweat trickled down her temples and into her already damp hair. “It’s an expression from Earth. It means I surrender.”

“Humph. Why not say I surrender ?”

“Fewer syllables?”

Sekk’thi’s lips drew back to reveal her sharp teeth as she laughed. “You terrans are strange. Uncle .” She shook her head and held her hand out to Samantha, helping her to her feet. “You did well. Tomorrow?”

“You want me to come back to do this again tomorrow?”

“I asked, did I not?”

Samantha grinned. “Yeah. Okay. Tomorrow.”

Warmth bloomed within Samantha’s chest as she left the training room. She had no doubt she’d be sore and bruised by morning, but she’d pushed herself, and that was surprisingly satisfying. Plus…she was making friends. None of the people here had turned up their noses because she was human. They’d treated her like she was already one of them. Like she was…family.

It was a feeling she’d missed. Though her grandmother had been old and infirm, and her father had always been working, both had found time to spend with Sam, and they’d loved her unconditionally. They’d given her a place where she belonged.

When she reached the bedroom, she bathed, rinsing the sweat from her skin. As she was pulling on her shirt, her stomach cramped with hunger. She hadn’t realized just how much time had passed until she checked her holocom; she’d kept herself busy for almost the entire day.

And she hadn’t seen or heard from Arcanthus once .

He’s working.

But he still needs to eat.

She latched onto that notion—it was a good excuse to see him without feeling like she was interrupting or being clingy, even if she knew in her heart that he wouldn’t mind her showing up unannounced no matter the reason.

Samantha couldn’t get over how he’d woken her that morning; he’d roused her from sleep with his clever hands and wicked tail before sliding his cock into her from behind. His fingers had explored her body as he thrust in and out of her, finally settling on her breasts to stroke her nipples. All the while, his lips had skimmed over her shoulder, neck, ear, and cheek, their contact broken only by his husky whispers. She’d shattered into a million glowing stars in his embrace.

She bit her lip and squeezed her thighs together as a thrilling thought came to her.

Maybe I could surprise him.

Brimming with excitement, Samantha all but ran along the corridors toward his workshop and nearly rammed into Drakkal as she rounded a corner.

She gasped, eyes wide, and reeled back. “I’m sorry!”

Drakkal halted abruptly and stared down at her, his expression unreadable. “In a hurry, terran?”

Her cheeks burned, and she clutched the sides of her shirt, ducking her head slightly. Her hair fell forward, partially blocking her face. She wasn’t sure why the azhera intimidated her so much. He’d been kind, even if he was gruff, and he was Arcanthus’s closest friend.

“I was going to find Arc to see if he was hungry,” she said.

The azhera grunted.

Samantha cringed. “Sorry.” She stepped around him. “I’ll…slow down.”

Drakkal caught her arm in one of his large hands, stopping her before she passed. His grip was surprisingly gentle. “We haven’t really talked, terran, have we?”

Samantha glanced at his hand before lifting her eyes to his. “Um, no. What…would you like to talk about?”

He turned to face her, dropping his hand away from her arm, and his shoulders rose as he drew in a deep breath. “I figured it’s only fair you know where I stand. I want to be angry at you, Samantha. Part of me even wants to hate you. Because he’s careless since you came into his life, and that carelessness has put us all in danger. It’s my job to keep him safe, and he’s making it impossible because he’s so absorbed with you.”

Samantha shrank back, chest constricting. “I-I didn’t ask him to do any of it. I didn’t know. I never would have—”

“I’m not like him, terran. Not as good with words.” He grunted again and bowed his head slightly, dropping his gaze to the floor. “I’m trying to say that I can’t be angry at you. None of this is your fault. I told myself at first that I would never understand what he sees in you, but I do. You’ve been here a few days, and you already have all three cren wrapped around your finger. That’s no accident.”

Samantha blushed and slowly raised her head.

He lifted his head as well, meeting her gaze again. “I’ve known him for a long time, Samantha. I’ve bled for him, and he’s bled for me. Before we came to Arthos… I don’t know what he told you, but I found him in a bad state. I don’t want to find him like that—or worse—again. He’s my oldest friend, my brother, and I trust him with my life, even if he acts like an arrogant asshole most of the time.”

Drakkal stepped closer to her. She reflexively backed away, but she bumped into the wall, halting her retreat.

Moving his arm with deliberate care, he settled a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t need to fear me. Arc doesn’t give his trust easily, but he’s given it all to you. So…you have mine, too. I’ m here for you, Samantha. To keep you safe, just like I want to keep him safe.”

“I won’t hurt him,” Samantha said, voice full of conviction.

“I’m not worried about you hurting him, terran. I worry about Arc hurting himself.”

She frowned. “I won’t let him do that, either.”

Drakkal swept his gaze over her, and his eyes softened. He lowered his hand and stepped back. “He’s been in his workshop all day. Won’t answer anyone, won’t let me in. Get in there and give him a kick in the ass for me.”

Samantha’s brows fell as she glanced past Drakkal, toward the workshop. Arcanthus had been fine that morning. “What happened?”

Drakkal shrugged. “He won’t talk to me. Usually, I want nothing more than for him to shut up. When he actually does, though… Something’s wrong. Something bad. He gets like this every now and then, and there’s always something behind it, but it can take days to get him to tell me what’s eating him up.”

Her stomach clenched, but it had nothing to do with hunger. Whatever was tormenting Arcanthus, he had locked himself away, was suffering alone. Momentary doubt flashed through her mind; would he even see her? Would he let her in?

“I’ll do what I can,” she said.

“I know.” Drakkal nodded and walked away, slowing briefly to add, “Find me if he doesn’t let you in, and we’ll just break down a door.”

The corners of Sam’s mouth rose in faint smile. “Drakkal? Thank you.”

He grunted and offered a wave as he strode down the hallway.

Samantha turned away from the azhera to face toward Arc’s workshop again, and her smile faded. She strode down the hallway, pushed onward by her need to see him, to hear him, to know he was okay. Something twisted inside her—a nagging fear that something was terribly wrong.

She reached the door at the end of the corridor and raised her hand, pressing the call button on the wall console. There was no answer. She waited a moment before pressing it again, then once more.

She was about to press it a fourth time when Arc’s voice came through the intercom.

“ Leave !”

Samantha flinched.

At least he’s alive in there.

She pressed the button again.

“Drakkal, I am not in the—”

“It’s Samantha, Arc.”

The intercom went silent, but she knew it was still on.

“Please let me in,” she said gently.

Silence stretched between them for long enough that she began to doubt whether he would open the door. The tightness in her chest intensified, approaching the point at which she feared she’d no longer be able to draw breath.

The door slid open without another word from him. Samantha released a shaky breath and immediately filled her lungs with fresh air, steeling herself for whatever awaited beyond the threshold.

She stepped inside, and the door closed behind her.

The workshop’s lights were turned down, leaving only the faintest red glow on the walls—the sort of light that would’ve been cast by a fire that had burned down to embers. The creatures inside the large tanks were reduced to dark, unidentifiable shapes, and the whole room was cast in a layer of obscuring shadow that gave it a gloomy air.

Arcanthus was sprawled on the center of one of the couches, his robe open and loose, his qal dim. He held an open bottle of gurosh in one hand. The gloom made his expression difficult to discern, but she knew his eyes were upon her by their yellow glow.

“How is it you look so delectable even in the dark, little terran?” he asked, but there was something different about his voice, something missing from it—his usual playful energy seemed forced.

Oh, Arc…

Samantha frowned as she approached the couch. She stopped in front of it, dipped her chin, and scanned the empty bottles littering the floor. The tip of Arcanthus’s tail flicked, bumping one of the bottles and sending it rolling toward her foot; she toed it aside.

Stepping closer to him, Sam reached down and plucked the drink out of his hand.

“I was saving that one for you, anyway,” he said, offering her a flash of his white fangs. The light of that smile didn’t reflect in his eyes.

After placing the gurosh on the floor—well beyond his reach—Sam turned back to him. She leaned forward and cupped his face, looking into his eyes. “Are you drunk?”

Arcanthus shook his head slowly. “I wish I was. Sedhi have a very high tolerance…another tretin thing.”

Sam brushed her thumbs over his sharp cheekbones. This…wasn’t Arc. This wasn’t the male she’d come to know, and seeing him like this tore her up inside.

“Arcanthus, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I was just thirsty.” He shifted his leg, and his foot hit another empty bottle with a clink. “ Quite thirsty.”

She stared into his eyes a moment longer and pressed a light kiss to his lips. His eyelids drifted shut while their lips were together, remaining so until she broke the kiss.

“I don’t believe you,” she said .

A crease formed between his eyebrows as he looked up at her, and a troubled frown tugged down the corners of his mouth.

“My past has come back to kill me,” he finally said.

Samantha sat on the sofa beside him. Reaching up, she caught one of his long braids and gave it a gentle tug. He didn’t resist, following her lead and lying sideways on the cushion, twisting his torso to settle the back of his head atop her lap.

She brushed the stray strands of hair from his face and traced a finger along his brow, soothing the tension there. “No one is going to kill you.”

“He’s going to try. He’s already tried. And he’ll keep trying, on and on, until either he succeeds or I kill him .”

“Who, Arc?”

“Vaund.”

“Who is Vaund?”

His eyes shifted to focus on the dark ceiling high above. “Did I leave out the part of my story regarding why we left Caldorius?”

Sam settled one of her hands on his chest while she combed the other through his hair between his horns. “You were a bit vague, but you can tell me now.”

He drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. “We were doing good on Caldorius. The fighters who’d signed on with me were skilled, and we were able to pick and choose the fights we wanted. That meant we didn’t have to fight in death matches if we didn’t want to. It just became a matter of risk versus reward; would the potential payout be worth the danger?

“Drakkal was with me, and a hacker, Zakarae. She’s the one who taught me how do all this”—he gestured at the nearby platform and all its screens—“and we used her talents to keep ahead of the Syndicate. They were upset because we were cutting into their profits. They were used to controlling all of it, used to taking a big cut of everything . They didn’t like that our fighters were collecting their own winnings. Didn’t like that we were bypassing their system. I kept an eye out for talented gladiators who were already free or close to becoming free, and I discovered one called Vaund. He was good. Had a lot of potential. And he was already free, so it should’ve been easy.

“I made him an offer. He knew who I was, and had a bit of a chip on his shoulder. A lot of fighters were like that, especially the ones who’d survived long enough to be freed. He thought that me being a champion was some sort of fluke, that I hadn’t earned it, and said he’d think about my offer. Next thing I know, I get contacted by a promoter. Vaund was challenging me to a match. To the death. There was a massive purse on the line, big enough to upgrade our facilities and keep us operating for a long time.

“I went and talked to him before I gave an answer, tried to talk him out of it. He was dead set on fighting. Didn’t care that there was a chance of him losing, didn’t care that he had a chance to earn just as much fighting on our crew without putting his life on the line. To him, it was a guaranteed thing. An easy victory.”

Arc’s tail thumped softly against the couch’s back cushions as he settled his hand atop hers, holding it tighter against his chest. “It was a lot of credits, and I didn’t care for his attitude…so I accepted. A death match just means lethal weaponry is used. It doesn’t have to end in death, even though they often do. I planned to toy with him enough to break his spirit and get him to walk away. I wanted him on my crew. He could’ve done well.

“But he didn’t give up. I had him beat, and he knew it, but he kept fighting. And he was vicious . He wasn’t just trying to win, he was trying to kill me outright. I couldn’t let it go on like that, and he didn’t give me a choice. So, I stopped toying with him. And my final blow sliced off most of his face.”

Samantha inhaled sharply, her hand stilling in his hair. She could almost imagine the brutality and horror of Caldorius, could almost see the gladiatorial fights in her mind’s eye, could almost understand the struggles those people had gone through to win their freedom, but what he’d just said… Even without a vivid description, her stomach twisted in knots at the things he must’ve been forced to do in those arenas.

“The bout was called, but…he wasn’t dead. He was tough. His sponsors didn’t care—he’d failed them already, and there were countless healthy fighters they could hire, so they left him. I made a choice, then, and even after everything that’s happened…I’m not sure if it was right or wrong. I paid for him to be fixed. They had to use cybernetics due to the extent of the damage, but he lived. And while he recovered, I made my offer again. I guess I should’ve seen the signs, but I didn’t. I just saw his potential. I was too blind, too stupid to understand that he hated me, especially after that fight.

“But he joined me, all the same. He was part of our crew for two years. And when it all came crashing down, when the Inner Reach Syndicate had finally had enough of me and my enterprise, who do you think they made an offer to?”

“Vaund,” Samantha replied.

“Vaund,” he echoed with a humorless chuckle. “Our security was tight, even then. Between Drakkal and Zakarae, we’d kept pretty well out of reach. But I thought Vaund had come around. I thought I could trust him. He led them right to us, and they…they were eager to make an example.

“They caught us off guard and killed almost everyone. It was a fight that actually meant something, a fight that had real stakes, and I couldn’t do anything to turn it around. I couldn’t help any of them. There were so many of those bastards, like a damned army had been dropped on our doorstep, and I fought and fought, but I kept getting pushed back.

“I ended up in an alley behind our base of operations. It was raining. I’ll always remember that, because the rain on Caldorius is sometimes a bit acidic, and there was a slight sting to it that night. They swarmed me, finally disarmed me, beat me down to my knees…and I looked up, and there he was. Vaund. I hadn’t known he was there until that moment. I thought he’d died with the others, fighting alongside us. But he’d been paid off by the Syndicate.

“He was there to finish what had been started a couple years before. Told me it was the Syndicate who’d hired him to fight me in the first place, that they would’ve paid him enough credits for him to never have to fight again. And I ruined that chance for him.” Arcanthus laughed again, even more bitterly. “He took my arms and legs one at a time, pausing between each cut to make sure I felt it. And while I writhed in pain, he said it’s just business .”

Samantha’s heart constricted, and her fingers curled against his chest. She couldn’t comprehend her own horror over what he’d just described. It hadn’t been an accident that took Arc’s limbs—it had been torture. It had been revenge.

“Arc…” she breathed, tears welling in her eyes.

“They left me in the alley, in a puddle of stinging rainwater and blood. You never realize just how much blood you have until most of it is spilled on the ground. I don’t know how much time passed—I was in too much pain—but at some point, a pair of strong hands lifted me off the ground, and I looked up, and…”

He paused, pressing his lips into a tight line, and seemed to steady himself. “And there was Drakkal. He’d been out scouting new talent, so he missed the whole thing. He’s beaten himself up over that ever since it happened. He thinks he should have been there to fight alongside me, that he could’ve somehow turned it around. That’s part of why he’s so protective now. He thinks he failed somehow. In his heart, I think he knows the truth. His absence saved my life.

“The energy blade had cauterized the worst of my wounds, but they’d beaten me pretty severely before that. Once Drakkal stopped some of the bleeding, he took me to the same place we’d taken Vaund to get patched up. And they…well, they did what they could, but I’ve indulged myself with some significant upgrades over the years.”

“And then you came here,” Samantha said.

“And then we came here, to build all this. I used what Zakarae taught me to keep us hidden. The Syndicate thought I was dead, and I wanted to keep it that way. It worked until we went to the Ventrillian Mall and that groalthuun took those pictures, which he passed along to his boss. Vaund.”

Sam closed her eyes as guilt flooded her. She’d asked Arc to take her to the upper city on a tour. It was her fault. If she hadn’t given in to temptation and called him, none of this would have happened. He’d still be in hiding. He’d still be safe.

She felt him turn to face her fully, and one of his hands caught her chin, forcing it down.

“Open your eyes, Samantha.”

She sniffled as tears flowed down her cheeks, but she obeyed.

His bright eyes were narrowed. “I know that look on your face. This is not your fault. I chose to take you there, and I don’t regret it. I would’ve taken you to a thousand other places afterward, whether you asked to go or not. You are not to feel guilt for my choices.”

It didn’t matter what he thought. Even if she and Arc were destined for one another, Sam carried some of the blame for what was happening now. She had to carry some of the blame .

“Does Vaund know where you are?” Samantha asked raggedly as she resumed combing her fingers through his hair.

“No, or he would be trying to kill me right now. We…spoke, earlier. I contacted him through the groalthuun’s holocom. I think he hates me even more now than before.”

Sam frowned. “Is that why you were drinking?”

“I was drinking because…because I thought I’d left all that behind. That I was free of it.” He lifted his arms and gestured to the black metal encasing them. “Haven’t I paid enough of a price? And now…I stand to lose you because of it, too, and I cannot stand the thought of that. I cannot stand that you are in danger because of my past.”

She placed her hand on his cheek, stroking it with her thumb. “You won’t lose me, Arc.”

He took gentle hold of her hand and lifted it from his cheek, flattening her palm against his. He traced her fingers with the digits of his free hand. “I wish I could touch you with my own fingers just once. Just to have the memory of your feel forever.”

“What do you feel when you touch me with them now?”

“Their warmth and their firmness. A hint of their texture. The same things I would feel with flesh, only lesser. It’s all…off.”

“Your hands are not the only things you feel with.” Sam smoothed her other palm down his chest. “What do you feel when I touch you here?”

“ You ,” he rasped softly.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and leaned down to brush her lips across his. Warmth filled her cheeks as she said, “You don’t need your hands to feel me, Arc.”

He briefly lifted his head to chase her lips. “You are too precious for this world, my flower.”

Samantha smiled; his words sent a gentle, tingling sensation through her chest.

Arc needed something to distract him, something to lighten his mood. He was wallowing in his past, in his pain, in his despair, and Sam refused to let this continue.

She carefully slipped out from beneath him and stood up. “Well, that’s too bad, since I signed an agreement saying I’d stay here at least a year.” She took a couple steps away, nudging aside the empty bottles scattered on the floor, and glanced over her shoulder. “Though…I might stay longer if someone could convince me…”

His eyes were intent upon her as he sat up; their light had altered subtly, shifting back toward the wicked, ravenous gleam she’d come to appreciate so much. “I don’t care what other agreements you’ve made, little terran. You’re not going anywhere.”

Samantha faced forward, a shiver running down her spine at his words, and walked toward the stairs leading up to his work platform. “Who’s going to stop me?”

Her only warning of his approach would’ve been a barely audible whisper of fabric—had his foot not hit one of the empty bottles as he pushed himself off the couch and stalked toward her. Samantha took off running, mounting the steps as fast as she could. She grinned, her heart pounding in excitement, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.

She spun around once she was behind his desk, and he stopped at the foot of the stairs with his stance low and his tail extended behind him. He looked like a dangerous predator about to pounce.

One corner of his mouth ticked up. “There’s nowhere to run, Samantha.”

“There are plenty of places to run. ”

He placed a foot on the lowest step. “Nowhere that will get you away from me.”

Samantha pressed her fingertips to her lips. When it came to flirting with Arcanthus, she was still shy, still nervous, but she couldn’t stop grinning. Anticipation fluttered in her belly, desire flooded her veins, and a touch of pride swelled her chest. She had brought that smile to his lips. She had sparked that fire in his eyes.

“What will you do if you catch me?” she asked.

“ When I catch you, little terran.” He grasped the sides of his robe as he ascended another step, pulling the fabric apart. “When I catch you, I’m going to tear the clothes from your body.” He shrugged off the robe, letting it fall away.

Sam’s eyes trekked over his lean, powerful body, watching the play of his muscles as he moved. He wore only his loincloth, the fabric of which revealed his powerful thighs. She forced herself to slide farther away from him along the desk; it wouldn’t be much of a chase if she stood there gawking until he grabbed her.

Arcanthus reached the top of the platform and placed his hand on the edge of the desk, turning his head to stare at her. “Once your clothing is in tatters, I’m going to run my tongue over every centimeter of your body. I’m going to taste every bit of you, and when I thrust my tongue between your thighs, my flower, your body is going to gift me your sweet nectar. I’ll drink my fill of you, and you will beg me to take ever more.”

She raised her gaze and locked it with his. Her heart quickened as ripples of eagerness swept through her, heating her core.

He braced his other hand on the desk and leaned forward. The muscles of his arm and chest flexed, and the light of his qal intensified. “And only when your need is so great that the only thing you can do is cry out my name in a desperate plea will I bury myself deep inside your body and claim you as mine. But even then, I’ll take my time, because you are my prize. Each deliberate stroke will drive you mad, and when I finally deign to grant you release, you will shatter against me.”

Samantha clenched the fabric of her shirt in her hands, close to tearing it off herself. His words alone might’ve pushed her to the edge. Her nipples hardened, her breasts felt heavy and full, and her sex throbbed with arousal.

“Then why are you still talking?” she asked breathlessly.

“Why aren’t you running?”

They stared at each other for another second, and then Arcanthus burst into motion, darting around the desk toward her. Sam’s heart leapt. She turned and ran, nearly slipping as she rounded the corner of his desk. She chanced a sideways glance to see Arcanthus plant a hand on the desktop and vault over it. His tail trailed behind him as his body passed through the holographic screens.

He landed in front of her, and Sam’s momentum carried her directly into his arms. She hit his body, but he didn’t budge. Tilting her head back, she looked up at him.

His lips stretched into a wide, triumphant grin. “You’re mine, Samantha.”

Arcanthus leaned forward, cupping the back of her head to prevent her retreat, and slammed his mouth down on hers. His kiss demanded as much from her as it promised— everything .

Electric waves spread outward from her lips to course through her body, lighting every nerve, setting her on fire. Samantha moaned against his mouth, returning the kiss without restraint. She tasted the gurosh on his tongue and smelled it on his breath; mixed with his taste, it was intoxicating and irresistible. She delved her fingers into his hair to clasp the back of his neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss as she rubbed her body against his .

Arcanthus groaned and moved his hands to the collar of her shirt. He tugged the fabric to the sides, easily tearing it apart. The brief caress of cool air against her skin made her shiver, but it was quickly replaced by the heat of his advancing body as he guided the tattered shirt down her arms and let it drop away.

He finally broke the kiss and eased down onto one knee, lips searing a path along her neck. Cupping her breasts with both hands, he skimmed his mouth over their tender flesh before sucking one of her nipples into it, swirling and rolling his tongue around her hard peak.

Samantha bit her lip to muffle a cry and tilted her head back, clutching him closer. “Arc…”

She started when he nipped the bud with his fangs—it sent a bolt of pleasure-pain straight to her pussy that made it clench in need.

She lifted her head and looked down at him. His center eye met her gaze as he placed a kiss upon the abused nipple before moving to the other. She watched, eyelids heavy, as he laved attention on her breasts, pulling her nipples into his mouth and sucking until they were sensitive and red, and she was a squirming, whimpering, helpless creature, trapped in his hold. Part of her felt like she could come from this alone, but it wasn’t enough.

She wanted more .

Needed more.

As though reading her mind, Arc’s mouth trailed down between her breasts and across her stomach. He dropped his hands to her hips and hooked his fingers under the waistbands of her leggings and panties. He drew them down slowly at first, his hands leaving tingling heat in their wake as they bared the skin of her pelvis, and moved his mouth lower until his lips were just above the cleft of her sex. He kissed her there. It was a feather-light caress, and she instinctively lifted her hips toward him.

Then he pulled the leggings down to her ankles in one smooth, quick motion.

She lifted her feet one at a time so he could remove those last pieces of clothing, and once she was fully bare, he ran his hands back up, cupping her calves, brushing his fingertips over the backs of her knees, following the outsides of her thighs.

His breath was warm and soft against her flesh. Sam trembled in anticipation. His nose brushed along her slit, and he inhaled deeply, his hands tightening on the backs of her thighs.

“I am going to devour you, Samantha,” he growled.

Arcanthus rose, shifting his hands up to her ass. He lifted Sam off her feet and set her down on the edge of the desk, shoving her thighs apart. Sam’s eyes widened at the feral look on his face, and she barely had time to catch herself as he dropped onto his knees, wrapped his arms around the undersides of her thighs, and yanked her closer to his hungry mouth.

Her lips parted in a sharp gasp as his tongue delved into her sex. She leaned back on her arms, hands flat atop the desk, unable to tear her eyes away from him as he kissed and licked her center, avoiding her clit—the one place she needed him the most.

Pleasure washed over her. She tightened her legs around him, eager to draw him closer, but he was as unmoving as a mountain.

Samantha moaned when his tongue speared her. He growled; the vibrations from the sound rumbled through her, teasing her, amplifying every sensation, but it wasn’t enough. She shook with need and shamelessly rocked against his mouth, but still he ignored her clit.

He was keeping her at the cusp, right on the edge, balanced on the fine line between torment and rapture.

His eyes met hers; they were shining with lust, gleaming with wicked promise of what was to come.

She knew what he was waiting for. Knew what he wanted her to do.

Sam reached out with one hand and grasped his horn. “Please, Arcanthus,” she begged. “My clit. Make me come.”

Arcanthus chuckled huskily. “Oh, my lusty little terran, I thought you’d never ask.”

He spread her thighs wider, and slowly— maddeningly —circled her clit with his lips. He gradually sucked it into his mouth, thrilling her with little flicks of his tongue; each graze of that sensitive nub made her hips buck.

The tip of his tail brushed against her ankle and slid up the inside of her leg. As it moved higher, he increased the strength of his tongue. Samantha’s brows fell, and her toes curled, the building sensation within her soaring to new heights. She forced her eyes to remain open, forced herself to watch him.

When he slipped the tip of his tail into her pussy and sucked hard on her clit, Samantha came undone; she threw her head back and cried out in sweet agony.

She squeezed her eyes shut as waves of ecstasy crashed through her. Her body tensed, and Arc thrust his tail deep, over and over, as her sex—quivering with a flood of heat—clamped down on it. Tugging on his horn, she pulled him close and ground herself against his mouth and tail. She paid no mind to the sounds escaping her.

All that mattered was the searing pleasure consuming her entire being.

“Arc…please—ah! Oh, God!”

Her arm gave out beneath her, and she fell back atop the desk. His hold on her legs prevented her escape as she writhed. She came again suddenly, and her eyes flew open; all she could see were star-like bursts of light in the dim room.

Arc finally released her clit and withdrew his tail. He lazily lapped at her and released a deep hum of appreciation. When he placed a kiss against her sensitive clit, she jumped at the quick burst of sensation. He stood up, forcing her to release his horn, and slid his hands up her thighs and past her pelvis to curl his fingers around her hips.

Looming over her, he flashed his fangs in a devilish smile.

“You are glorious when you succumb to pleasure, Samantha.”

He dropped a hand to his cock, and she watched avidly as his writhing tendrils swept over the moisture coating her inner thighs. They shifted to her sex, caressing her folds and clit, eliciting another moan from her. Arc grasped the base of his shaft, and the tendrils drew together. He guided their tips to her opening. Flexing his hips, he pushed into her.

“Oh, my precious flower.” Arc returned his hand to her hip. He tightened his grip on her and pulled her closer, feeding himself into her body. “You are perfect. So… ah —.”

Samantha wrapped her legs around his waist and bit her lip as he filled her. Shivers wracked her, and she moaned in unison with him as he drew back and pushed in, again and again, with slow, measured thrusts that made her aware of every individual nodule along his shaft, that made her feel his tendrils’ every tiny movement.

She tried to dig her heels into his back to pull him against her harder, faster, but he only solidified his hold, maintaining his deliberate pace. She whimpered and thrashed as another orgasm built slowly within her. Each slide of his shaft pushed her infinitesimally closer to a new peak.

When she reached for him, he caught her arms and pinned her wrists on the desk over her head with one hand, leaning over her to block out the room’s scant light. All that remained was the glow of his eyes and qal .

“You have no idea how difficult this is, Samantha,” he rasped. “No idea how much I want to ravage your delectable little body. But you need to feel this. To feel everything .” He thrust deep, making her gasp. “Feel me .”

The tips of his tendrils shifted within Samantha, stroking her core, and her inner walls pulsed with the beginnings of her impending climax. She clenched her fists as her breath hitched and her eyelids fluttered, but she kept them locked with Arcanthus’s.

He shuddered and sagged forward for a moment, settling more of his weight atop her. His lips parted with a ragged exhalation, and his previously steady pace faltered.

“Come with me,” Samantha begged. “Let go, Arcanthus. With me.”

Arc’s lips peeled back to bare his teeth. “Ah, my precious flower… You are my undoing.”

His grip on her wrists tightened slightly as he forced himself up again. He drew back and slammed his hips forward, burying himself deep inside her, only to draw back and repeat it again and again, increasing his speed and force with each thrust. Feral grunts and growls escaped him, mingling with her soft cries. He took her hard.

She reveled in it and begged for more.

The pressure that had built inside her throughout his slow, deliberate seduction was suddenly too much; Samantha shattered. In that same instant, Arc’s tendrils spread wide and pressed against her inner walls. Their bodies tensed in unison, and they both released strained, desperate cries as they climaxed. His seed gushed into her with enough force to send her into another crest.

Arcanthus released Sam’s wrists to gather her close, pressing his mouth to hers as their bodies spasmed in the throes of ecstasy. The pleasure coursing through Sam was pure and explosive. His deep kiss swallowed her cries, and she clung to him as though he were the only thing holding her together.

His lips moved from hers to trail along her jaw. She felt his warm breath against her ear as he released a low moan. Faint tremors flowed through their bodies as they drifted down from the heights of their passion, and, even when his tendrils reluctantly eased their pressure, Arcanthus did not withdraw from her body.

He affectionately nuzzled her neck and whispered, “Even when I was a slave, I never belonged so wholly to anyone as I do you.”

Samantha’s breath hitched. Her heart, hammering against her ribs, swelled. She could barely breathe with the emotion welling within her.

She turned her face toward him and looked into his eyes, but he kissed her again before she could speak. In that moment, Samantha realized she didn’t need words—she poured everything he made her feel into that kiss.

I love you, Arc.

I love you.