Page 32

Chapter Twenty-One

D rafe blinked at the woman in his quarters.

Foq, he’d almost lost her. How in Osnir’s blessed universe had they been the ones to find her?

Miracles he believed in, but this…was incredible.

His symbiotes rippled under his skin, preemptively forming his armor.

If he found who’d wished her harm, he’d kill them without hesitation. She was his to protect. His…

He had dreamed of her being here with him. Not once had he thought his dreams would be realized. As she trailed her gaze over him, his symbiotes leaped to life, sparking excitement and heat through his body. He hardened to his full length, his fingers twitching while he granted her this moment.

She slid off the table and unclipped her boots.

With a flick of a wrist, her tunic landed on top of his strewn boots.

She shimmied out of her breeches and stood before him in tiny slips of white that did nothing to hide her.

Arching and thrusting out her breasts, she unhooked the top cloth, tossing it to the floor.

Snagging her fingers into the bottom triangle, she peeled it down then shoved it aside with her toes.

He sucked in a sharp breath. Osnir, she is beautiful.

Chuckling, she threw herself at him. He caught her, held her close, and relished the fullness of her in his arms. Too eager, he took a moment to bury his nose in the curve of her neck.

He inhaled, drawing deep into his body the scent of sun-heated rock, the tang of salt, and the natural sweetness of his female.

When she dug her fingers into his hair, volatile need exploded, and he growled, crushing her lips with his.

He couldn’t get enough of her. His vision blurred, but he refused to close his eyes and miss a moment.

His chest expanded, filled with heat and longing.

His heart pounded a parsec a second. Why did she have such a hold on him?

She panted between kisses, clinging, stroking, and squeezing any part of him she could reach.

Perhaps she felt the same? He hoped so, not wanting to be the only one in this madness.

He spun her, pinned her to the bulkhead, and reached between them to tease her sex.

She whimpered, spreading her thighs wider.

Slick, hot, and swollen, her heartbeat pulsed above her entrance.

He circled the hard bud, drawing out her pleasure.

She bit him, licked and kissed him, unable to remain still under the onslaught.

He grinned. She was so responsive. The taste of her drenched his tongue in memory, and he longed to sample her petals again.

Not now, though. He needed her too much to do anything other than bring her to release before plunging into her depths.

Just the thought of doing so set a tremble in his knees.

He tensed his hips, ensuring she remained pinned to the bulkhead, his koq rubbing her backside.

She cried out, threw her head back, and thrashed, tossing her sunlight-colored hair.

When her breathing calmed, he removed his fingers, gripped her hips, positioned himself at the heated wetness of her channel, and thrust in.

He stilled. The tight sheath squeezed, pulsed, and rippled, sending shivers outward.

Dipping, he caught her lips for a plundering kiss, then lost in her brown eyes, he withdrew.

She gasped, her lips parting. Her eyes fluttered shut.

When he plunged in to the hilt, she moaned, her fingers kneading his arms. Osnir had blessed him with her.

Sooner than he liked, she contracted around him, flooding heat along his length. It was too much, too intense. He roared, riding dunes of pleasure, unable to do anything but pin her to the bulkhead. As he held her up, she kept his knees from collapsing when she tightened her legs around him.

“Foq, Vic.” Without pulling out, he gathered her against his chest and stepped under the water spray.

She squealed when it drenched her. “What the farg is this?” She blinked at him, her hair darkened and enhanced the glow of her skin. “You waste water?” She licked a droplet off his shoulder, drawing a rumble from him.

“It is a treasure to my tribe, but on other worlds, it is an abundant resource.”

She stroked his chest, the slickness of the drops aiding her exploration.

He kissed her, tasting her and the water—two things he cherished the most. Breaking contact, he pulled out, lowered her legs, and washed her.

Despite needing to touch her, to learn every valley, he used the opportunity to study the crisscrossing scars on her left arm and leg.

They were as perfect as the corpse’s. How was this possible?

Once he rinsed her off, he guided her to the side to be air-dried while he hurried through his wash. She laughed and spun in a circle, granting the dryer full access.

Joy engulfed his chest in overwhelming sensations, and he paused mid-rinse. He parted his lips to ask her to be his, then hesitated. Not until he understood the connection between her and the corpses. Ivoy came first, as per his oath.

“We need to meet with Aehort Uz.” He closed the distance and halted beside her in the path of the air dryer.

She arched a brow. “Your orange friend?”

“I am his guardian. He insisted we rush to the ship. I sensed your distress, but you did not respond to the smart band.” He shook his wrist.

“I wasn’t anywhere near a communication device.” Shadow crossed her eyes. She pursed her lips. “If my crew jettisoned me on purpose, I swear, Drafe, I will hunt them down and kill them.” Strength, determination, and anger bolstered her voice, sounding like a true warrior.

He met her gaze, wanting to declare that her vow was his to fulfill, her debt his to settle, her future his to share. Instead, he nodded. “I believe you. Come, dress in your old garments. We will order fresh ones later. For now, we need to meet with Aehort and find your ship.”

“Could I have something to drink?” She pulled on her breeches and sleeveless tunic without her tiny strips of cloth. When she tugged on her boots, her breasts jiggled. He closed his eyes and offered his back as he summoned his armor while snapping on his boots.

“Yes. We will stop at the galley.” He held out his hand.

She slid hers into his without hesitation. Her hair fell across her shoulders, glowing in good health and appearing incredibly soft. Breaking his focus, he left his quarters and led her down the passages.

Nenn sat at the table opposite Gusin. They gawked, their meals forgotten.

“Vic, this is Giniiri aac Nenn Maed and Zuphayr aac Gusin Taed.”

She wiggled her fingers in a strange gesture and sat on the bench beside them. “Those are your names?”

Drafe laughed. “Your family name is last, our tribe name is first. Aac means from, and maed, taed, arrak, uz, and sava are ranks.”

Her tempting mouth formed an ‘oh.’ He shuffled where he waited at the replicate, trying to ease his hardening koq, as if he hadn’t just enjoyed her.

“This is a military ship.” She studied their armor then chuckled. “You’re so colorful. Is there a significance to your red and blue hair and matching eyes?” She smiled at Drafe when he placed a jar of water in front of her and a plate of tulsig alongside browned strips of garak.

“Each tribe has a color. None know why.” Nenn grinned then tore into the fleshy part of his charred audinna—a variegated-yellow mushroom that grew inches above bubbling lava. “That’s the Giniiri in my name.”

“It also means from which clime we stem.” Gusin sucked on his thumb after he popped into his mouth his last bite of raw kurrula—meat from winged creatures Drafe had yet to see. “Giniiri is the volcano tribe. Zuphayr is where the sky meets the water.”

“And Meorri?” She picked up a tulsig with her fingers and bit into it. Groaning, she stared at the cake while she chewed. “This is so good.”

“Drafe is from the desert tribe.” Nenn pushed off the bench, gripped Drafe’s forearm, then left.

Drafe settled beside her, content to watch her eat.

“Vic.” Gusin offered his forearm. She blinked, licked her fingers, then clasped his arm as Nenn had done.

Drafe’s heartbeat stilled at the Qaldreth gesture to acknowledge a worthy warrior. Frowning, he stared after a disappearing Gusin.

“I like your friends.”

He glanced at her. “Warriors are not friends. We are brothers-in-arms.”

She shrugged. “Some you prefer more than others, though.”

In her eyes, they were his friends, but that term lacked depth. He would give his life for his males and they for him. What he hadn’t anticipated was how this adventure into the unknown had brought them closer.

She emptied her jar and pushed the plate aside. “Thank you.”

He rose, and so did she, trailing him. Perhaps it was insanity that made him sneak peeks at her. The door to Aehort’s quarters opened before he requested access.

“Welcome, Vic. It is a pleasure to see you again. I trust you are well?” Aehort smiled and gestured with a wide sweep of his arm to a chair. “Please, sit. We have much to discuss.”

“We do?” She sat and clasped her hands between her thighs.

“A few months ago, we discovered a pod heading for our planet, Ivoy.” Aehort tapped his chin. “I am an uz, a servant class, but since Drafe and I survived the pod exploding, killing all of our leaders and many Qaldreth warriors, the council tasked us to investigate the pod’s origins.”

Her gaze flew to Drafe. She studied him, as if she searched for an injury. At finding none, she knitted her brows. “You were hurt?”

Foq, he needed to touch her, to ease her concern. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest and let Aehort continue. She was here now. He would have plenty of time to adore her later.

Aehort tapped the closest screen, revealing the many ports and waystations they had visited. “All our questioning led to your planet, Vic.”