Page 13

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

The building they’ve given us isn’t human-made, that much is obvious. The walls have a seamless, almost-organic quality to them, curving in places where sharp angles should have been. The ceiling arches slightly, faintly glowing veins running through the material like bioluminescent threads that cast a warm golden hue over the rooms. There are two small sleeping quarters and a main living space where Calythra has unrolled a mat, clearly intending to sleep there.

The structure is nestled among other similar ones only a short distance from the bowling alley the rebel leader’s claimed as headquarters. Solan and I agreed—tentatively—to support the cause, or at least to take the refuge they’ve offered for the time being. Varek’s made it clear there will be terms, but tomorrow, we’ll talk shit out and figure out what exactly those are going to be.

For now, the focus is on rest. Or at least, that’s been the idea.

Jamie has finally started to slow down, though it has taken some effort. Calythra’s knack for engaging him, distracting him while making him feel seen, is impressive. My trust in him is growing even if I still don’t understand what his intention is. But he’s kept my nephew alive and safe, and now he’s practically a second shadow, promising to keep an eye on everything as he settles into the living space.

I catch Jamie faltering. A quick swallow, a sudden glassiness in his eyes, and then he physically shakes it off, diving back into a game with Calythra. He’s trying so damn hard to hold it together, and I hate it. I hate that he feels like he has to.

But as his yawns grow more frequent, I’m selfishly relieved. Tonight won’t be the night reality hits him. If it does, I’ll be here—with hugs, with quiet reassurances, with whatever he needs. But for now, I just need to get him to bed.

“Come on, mate,” I say, nudging him towards the sleeping quarters. “You’re about two yawns away from falling over.”

“I’m not tired,” he argues, but the words are punctuated by yet another yawn.

“Right,” I say, grinning. “And I’m not your uncle.”

Jamie rolls his eyes. “Fine. But if I have nightmares, I’m waking you up.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” I say, guiding him into the small room. It’s cosy, with a low, rounded bed that seems to mould itself to his shape when he sits on it.

As he settles under the strange silken covers, I kneel beside him, brushing his hair back from his face. His dark eyes meet mine, a seriousness in them that never fails to catch me off-guard.

“You okay?” I ask softly.

“Are you?”

I hesitate, then smile. “I’m supposed to be the one checking on you.”

“Yeah, well,” he says, shrugging. “You’ve got a lot of horse crap on your plate. I can tell.”

My throat tightens, but I force a grin. “Stop being so bloody perceptive. It’s annoying.”

Jamie smirks, but the expression quickly fades. “I miss Mum and Dad.” His voice is small, barely more than a whisper.

His words hit like a punch in the gut. “I know, mate.” My voice is thick. “I miss them too.”

He reaches out, his hand small but firm as it grips mine. “We’ll figure it out,” he says, echoing words I’ve said to him countless times before. “Right?”

“Right.” I squeeze his hand. “We’ll figure it out.”

For a moment, we just sit together, the silence heavy but not unwelcome. Finally, Jamie’s eyes droop, and I lean down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Goodnight, kiddo.”

“’Night,” he mumbles, already half-asleep.

I stand and slip out of the room, closing the door quietly behind me.

In the shared space between where Jamie’s snoring softly and where I plan to ruin Solan, I find my mate deep in conversation with Calythra. Their tones are serious but not heated, and I catch the occasional flicker of Solan’s hair flaring before settling again. When he sees me, his expression softens, though he doesn’t immediately break away from the conversation.

I wait until they finish, exchanging a brief nod with Calythra as he settles onto his mat. Then Solan and I make our way to our sleeping quarters, the tension from earlier still lingering between us like a taut wire.

The moment the door closes behind us, it snaps. The energy between us is palpable, an electric current humming through the air, charged with every unspoken word, each promise we’ve exchanged but haven’t yet fulfilled. My pulse quickens, the space between us shrinking with every ragged breath I take.

Solan’s hair reacts first, the tendrils flaring to life, wild and unrestrained, flickering like fire caught in a storm. It reaches towards me, seeking, just as his golden eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that steals my breath. That heated gaze burns through every barrier I thought I had left, leaving me raw and exposed.

“Jack,” he starts, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that sends a tremor through me. There’s a question in the way he says my name, a hesitance that tugs at something deep in my chest.

But I’m not about to let him second-guess us. “No more waiting,” I murmur, stepping closer, my voice rough with the weight of everything I feel. The words are a promise, a declaration, and I see the way they land—his breath hitching, his stance faltering as if I’ve knocked him off balance.

I move my hands with deliberate slowness, finding the straps of his weapons first. I unclasp them one by one, the metal buckles releasing with quiet clicks that echo in the charged silence between us. Solan’s chest rises and falls, each breath heavy, his eyes tracking my every move as if he’s unsure whether to stop me or surrender entirely.

“Are you certain?” he asks. His voice is barely above a whisper, but it trembles with emotion, his hair tangling around my wrists, seeming desperate to pull me closer. The sensation of it—silken yet alive—sends a jolt through me, heat coiling low in my stomach.

“Absolutely,” I say, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. I step even closer, so close that his warmth radiates into me, the faint scent of him—earthy and wild—filling my senses. “You’re mine, Solan,” I tell him, my tone firm, my conviction absolute. “And I’m done waiting to prove it.”

His lips part, a soft exhale escaping him, but whatever he’s about to say is lost when I find the fastener of his leather kilt at his waist. My fingers brush against his skin, the contact igniting something primal between us. His hair flares around us, a fiery halo that bathes the room in golden light, as though the bond between us is alive, pulsing, demanding to be acknowledged.

I feel completely certain—of him, of us, of the bond tethering us together. Every instinct screams that this is right, that he is mine and I am his. There’s no more room for hesitation, no more room for fear.

And I am done holding back as I finally unclasp his kilt and let it fall to the floor.

I part my lips, my brows jumping high, my eyes widening.

“Holy fucking goodness and hail to monster dick.” I can’t look away. I try. Sort of. Okay, I barely try to meet his gaze to check that his huff is one of amusement at the way I’m eye fucking his cock like it’s a trophy.

“I—” I’ve got nothing. No words. All I can do is stare. I’m pretty sure I’m drooling too. Definitely salivating. “Nnngh…” is the garbled mess of a word I finally land on.

“Jack.”

The concern in his tone has me reluctantly pulling away. When I do, I wince at the uncertainty in his golden eyes and am quick to reassure. “You’ve….” I huff out a breath and clear my throat. “You’ve been freeballing all this time.” Heat stings my cheeks. “Not that you appear to have balls, but fuck, anyone could have seen your cock.” A flash of…. Fuck a duck…. Yeah, that’s jealousy that swims in my vision.

Solan reaches for his kilt. Sod it all to hell. I’m doing a piss-poor job of letting him know what the sight of his dick is doing to me.

“No,” I all but yell, making us both startle. Another flash of heat touches my cheeks, this time in pure embarrassment. “You’re fucking beautiful. Incredible.” I manage to keep my eyes firmly on his rather than following the tempting trail down his tight abs to his mesmerising dick. It’s a siren calling to me.

But I will not look away from his face. I can’t. I need him to know I speak the truth.

The tightness around his eyes softens a fraction.

“You are… honestly, you’re everything. Not a single inch of what I see doesn’t do it for me.”

“You’re not… worried about our differences?”

My gaze widens before I narrow it, a sly smirk forming. “How exactly do you know we’re so different? I’m pretty sure there are no movies with a full frontal of Arnie.” Though I think there was an impressive one of his tight buns.

Holy shit. I stare hard, laughter trying to make its way out of my chest when somehow Solan turns an even deeper shade of red. “What exactly have you been looking at?”

When he glances away, I tug off my now-clean shirt, so relieved we were able to make use of the hot springs and herb-scented soap a short walk from the base. My movements immediately pull his gaze back to me.

“I’m teasing. I don’t really want to embarrass you,” I reassure him, softening my smile and reaching out for his large hand. Somehow, I still keep my attention away from his tempting dick. As soon as I catch a glance, I’m going to be done for. Mouth, arse, hand—whatever part of my body I can get on his cock, I’m good with.

“I—” His forked tongue peeks out, his eyes flashing, his tendrils going haywire as he rakes his gaze over my bare chest.

Do I preen a little? Fuck yes, I do. My muscles used to be gym created when I worked as a firefighter. These days, I’m farm strong… and hard. That Solan’s clearly besotted with the fact that I have hair is a fuck of a turn-on.

“You?” I push, making quick work of my belt, jeans, and socks, revealing myself fully to him.

Words I don’t understand fly out of his mouth. The heat in his gaze rises to inferno levels as every muscle of his locks up tight, as though he’s restraining himself from pouncing on me.

Fuck that.

Before I can pounce right back, he says, “I found picture books in an Earth house.”

I arch my brow, a salacious grin appearing. “You did, huh? What exactly was in these picture books?”

Solan’s swallow is loud. “Humans, free of material.”

When I stay quiet, he steps closer, his muscles losing some of their tension. Since every cell in my body is screaming, “Fuck me, Solan,” he’s undoubtedly more than certain that I’m on board with everything he’s saying and absolutely everything I want us to do together while naked.

“The one male had his hand on his”—he dips his gaze down to my dick—“cock. Another picture was of two men. Both on their middle legs.”

Middle legs? Their dicks?

“Here.” He leans forwards slightly, pressing his hand to my knee.

“The men were on their knees? Fucking?” A breathy moan punctuates my question. Just saying “fucking” aloud makes the pull almost impossible to ignore.

“Fucking?” Solan repeats, his head tilting further, a crease forming between his brows. The flickering tendrils of his hair freeze midair as though his brain has hit a processing error. “That is… the loud word humans shout? The angry one? Like Arnold Schwarzenegger?” He deepens his voice in an uncanny imitation of the actor. “ What the fucking hell are you doing? ”

I freeze. For half a second, I just stare at him, torn between laughing so hard, I can’t breathe and sinking into the floor to die of second-hand embarrassment. “Bloody hell,” I manage, pinching the bridge of my nose as my shoulders start to shake. “You’ve been learning English from Schwarzenegger movies.” It’s a reminder to myself more than anything.

Solan frowns, confused by my reaction, his hair beginning to flicker again. “He is… human leader, yes? Very respected?”

That does it. The chuckle bursts out of me, loud and uncontrollable, and I struggle to get words out while inwardly preening that his English has devolved because he has sex on the brain. “He’s not—he’s not a leader!” I gasp, tears pricking my eyes. “He’s a movie star, Solan. An actor.” I don’t want to get into the whole “leadership” position he had in the US. Plus, I should perhaps have had this whole conversation with him when I first discovered the DVDs. I can’t help but wonder why he didn’t realise that movies are fictional. Christ knows what he really thinks about Earth and what a human’s purpose is.

His frown deepens, his glowing golden eyes narrowing. “But he commands. He says the fuck word with great authority.”

“That’s… not what it means in this situation.” I swipe my face, trying to rein in my laughter, though my body is still shaking with aftershocks.

Solan looks utterly bewildered, which only makes it harder.

“Okay, okay, listen.” I hold up a hand, attempting to restore some semblance of seriousness. “Yes, fucking can be a cuss word, but it also means… uh….”

He leans closer, his tendrils practically vibrating with curiosity. “Means what?”

“It’s….” I clear my throat, suddenly feeling a little warm under his intense gaze. “It’s also what we’re about to do. When people have sex, Solan. Making love. Complete the bond with our bodies. That kind of fucking. ”

Understanding dawns in his eyes like a sunrise, warm and bright—and then it turns into something far more dangerous. His lips curl into a slow, wicked smile, and his hair whips the air like a wildfire catching a gust of wind. “Ah. This is fucking.” He steps closer, his towering frame blocking out everything else, his voice dropping to a seductive rumble. “You will teach me the human way.”

I swallow hard, the laugh in my throat replaced by a rush of heat. “Oh, I’ll teach you,” I murmur, meeting his gaze, my chest rising and falling as the tension between us spirals higher. “But I promise you’ll pick it up pretty quick.”

Does my brain stutter, wondering what sex means to his species? A little. And I definitely want to know more, but considering he’s absolutely down for exploring human sex, the knowledge takes over every other thought or possibility.

He leans in, his hand brushing my hip, the barest contact making me shiver. “Then fuck me, Jack,” he growls, clearly testing out the phrase. His attempt at confidence wavers for half a second before his lips twitch into a grin. “Did I say it correctly?”

I groan, my head tipping back as I release a strangled laugh, the sound mingling with the heat building between us. “You’re a bloody menace,” I tell him, reaching for him, my hands tangling in the tendrils of his hair, which causes a shiver to rack his body as I pull him close. “But, uh… yeah, you got it right. But I’m kinda hoping you want to fuck me.”

And it’s no use; I can’t hold back anymore: I finally look down at his cock.

Fuck. Me. Dead.

Or sideways.

Or anyway he wants.

I sink to my knees, wide-eyed and fixated, desperate to get a closer look. Tingling buzzes through my fingers, which are eager to touch and explore, and yeah, I’m definitely salivating.

His dick is a good nine inches. Big enough to make me know I’ll feel the sting, the burn, and every delectable inch, but not enough to horrify me.

Without a doubt, I can take him.

I swallow hard. He definitely doesn’t have balls.

The deep red of Solan’s skin is darker on his dick, a shade that reminds me of glowing embers, rich and mesmerising. It’s impossible not to stare, to trace the fascinating details with my eyes. His cock is smooth and thick at the base, tapering into a blunt point that’s narrower at the tip. There’s no foreskin, no opening, just unbroken, gleaming skin that looks both alien and breathtakingly enticing.

I reach out, my fingers trembling slightly, unable to resist touching him. The ridges circling the end draw my gaze first—three rings, subtle but prominent enough to promise sensations I’ve never even dreamed of. My cock twitches, and I clench reflexively, imagining what those ridges will feel like inside me.

But it’s the barbs that truly capture my attention. Small, no more than five millimetres, they line the underside of his cock, each one perfectly symmetrical and somehow… beautiful. They don’t look sharp, though they make my heart race in anticipation. When I run a tentative finger along one, it pulses under my touch—a soft, rhythmic movement that has my breath hitching.

“Holy shit,” I whisper, my voice shaky. “What… how does that even?—?”

Solan groans low in his throat, his head tipping back as his tendrils whip through the air, glowing faintly in the dim light. “Jack,” he rasps, his voice rough and strained. “You are… killing me.”

I force myself to tear my gaze away and look up at him. His face is a picture of intensity, golden eyes molten, his teeth gritted as if he’s barely holding himself together. But it’s his hair that leaves me speechless. The tendrils have grown longer, the strands thinning and shimmering, almost translucent. They’re slick, wet with something that glistens faintly. I realise, with a jolt, they’re creating lube.

“You’re kidding me,” I breathe, unable to stop the awed laugh that escapes. “Your hair is making lube? That’s a thing?”

“They are to prepare you,” Solan says, his words tight, like he’s forcing them out through sheer will. “They will help… stretch, make you ready. If you allow it.”

I blink, overwhelmed but achingly curious. “And the barbs?” I return my hand to his cock, ghosting my fingers over the ridges before brushing the underside. I can feel the faint heat they’re emitting, small pulses that resonate with his energy.

“They will not hurt you,” Solan promises, his gaze locking with mine, fierce and protective. “They secrete heat, small pulses. Their purpose is… pleasure. To make you fall apart, to ensure your release. To make you mine.”

Bloody hell. My head spins, and my body feels like it’s on fire just from hearing him describe it. “You’re really stacked for this, huh?” I murmur, a teasing grin tugging at my lips. “Designed to ruin me.”

Solan’s lips twitch, and he huffs a shaky laugh. “Ruin you?” He leans closer, his voice dropping to a growl. “No, Jack. Bond with you. Cherish you. This is what I am for.”

His words, raw and sincere, hit me like a double kick from a roo, leaving me momentarily speechless. But I’m not done exploring. Not by a long shot. Leaning in, I press my lips to the ridged head of his cock, tasting him for the first time. The heat is intoxicating, and the slight saltiness of his skin leaves me hungry for more. I swirl my tongue over the ridges, savouring the texture, before trailing down to the barbs. When I flick my tongue against one, Solan groans so deeply, it vibrates through my chest.

“You taste incredible,” I tell him, glancing up to see his reaction. “Are you always hard like this?”

He shakes his head. “No. But since meeting you, all it takes is a thought.”

Fark…. He’s a walking, talking, perfect mate, always ready to go. Hell if that knowledge does make my dick swell.

His tendrils are practically writhing now, some curling down to brush against my shoulders, slick and warm.

“Jack,” he chokes out, his voice trembling. “If you do not stop, I will….”

“Fall apart?” I grin, emboldened by his reaction, before taking him deeper into my mouth. The barbs pulse against my tongue, sending a rush of heat through me, and I moan, my own cock throbbing painfully.

It’s almost too much for both of us. Solan’s hands come down to my shoulders, his strength evident as he tries to pull me back. But I’m not ready to stop. Not until he’s gasping my name. I hollow my cheeks and take him deeper, letting the ridges and barbs tease my lips and tongue.

Suddenly, with a growl, Solan grips me more firmly, lifting me effortlessly from my knees. His lips crash into mine, swallowing my startled gasp. His hair wraps around us both, slick tendrils pressing against my skin in ways that leave me trembling. They trail down my back, exploring, teasing, and then—holy shit—they find my entrance.

I break the kiss, gasping as the first tendril presses gently, stretching me in ways that make my head spin. “Solan,” I breathe, clutching at his shoulders. “What?—?”

“They will prepare you,” he repeats, his voice a husky whisper. “If you wish.”

“Oh, I wish,” I pant, arching into him as a second tendril joins the first. They’re warm, slippery, and impossibly gentle, probing and stretching until I’m trembling and moaning against him. Each touch is a promise, every movement laced with care and reverence.

And hot—so fucking hot and sexy.

The growing bond between us pulses, a living thing, heightening every sensation, every emotion. I can almost feel his need, his desire, his love, and it’s close to being overwhelming. “I need you,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “Now, Solan. Please.”

He doesn’t make me wait. His tendrils withdraw, leaving me gasping at the loss, but then he lowers me to the bed and positions himself, his cock pressing against my slick hole. His hands cradle my hips, strong and steady, his gaze searching mine.

“You are mine, Jack,” he says, his voice rough but tender. “And I am yours.”

I nod, unable to speak, and then he pushes forwards, slowly, carefully, until he’s fully seated inside me. The stretch is intense, the ridges and barbs igniting nerves I didn’t know I had, and I cry out, my head falling back as pleasure overtakes me.

Solan stills, his tendrils wrapping around me, holding me close. “Are you all right?” he asks, his voice filled with concern.

“Better than all right,” I manage, my words coming out in a breathless rush. “You feel… amazing. Don’t stop.”

And then he moves, and I swear I see stars.

The heat of Solan inside me is consuming, all-encompassing. It burns and stretches me in ways I didn’t know were possible, and I welcome it, every inch of him. His cock moves with deliberate intensity, and the ridges at the tip drag against my walls, sending shivers through me with each stroke. But it’s the barbs that undo me, pulsing lightly as they press into me. Every pulse feels like a small explosion of pleasure, radiating outwards and igniting my nerves.

His thrusts pick up speed until they are hard and fast, punishing, and I feel every drag, push, and pull of him inside me. The sound of our bodies meeting—skin against skin, the wet slap of flesh—fills the room. It’s raw and animalistic, but beneath it is something deeper, more intimate. Our whimpers intermingle, his low groans syncing with my desperate gasps, and the quick, frantic beat of our hearts is a rhythm I can’t escape.

It’s everything. It’s too much. And yet I want more.

His tendrils don’t stop their exploration. Two of them are already wrapped around my cock, slick and warm, stroking me in perfect time with his thrusts. My head falls back, a guttural moan spilling from my lips as I lose myself to the sensations. The tendrils move with a precision that feels designed to drive me insane, their grip firm yet gentle, coaxing me higher with each movement.

A third tendril joins the others, and I can barely distinguish the sensations anymore. I’m so far gone in the haze of pleasure that I don’t even realise I’m gasping his name until I hear him respond.

“Jack,” he growls, his voice low and primal. The sound is like a physical touch, curling through me and making me clench around him.

“Solan,” I manage, gripping his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin. My body is on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation. The heat is unbearable, but I embrace it, letting it consume me. “I… I don’t know how much longer I can….”

Before I can finish, two more tendrils press against my entrance. My eyes widen as they slide in alongside his cock, the stretch almost too much. Almost. The burn is exquisite, a perfect counterpoint to the pleasure, and I cry out, my voice breaking.

“Fuck!” The word is half curse, half plea.

His mouth crashes against mine, swallowing the sounds I make. His fangs graze my lower lip, drawing a sting of pain that only heightens the pleasure. His forked tongue slides against mine, teasing and tasting, and I melt into the kiss. It’s possessive, claiming, and I let him take everything he wants because I want it too.

“Jack,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice thick with emotion. His golden eyes blaze with an intensity that leaves me breathless. “You’re mine. Always.”

“Always,” I echo, my voice trembling. I mean it with every fibre of my being.

The tendrils inside me begin to move, pulsing and stretching me further. The sensation is indescribable, a mix of pleasure and pressure that has me trembling. I can feel his cock still thrusting, the ridges dragging against my walls in a way that makes my eyes roll into the back of my head. The barbs pulse with heat, tiny bursts of warmth that send me spiralling closer to the edge.

“Solan,” I gasp, my voice breaking as my release builds. “I’m… I’m gonna?—”

“Let go,” he says, his voice rough but tender. “I’ve got you.”

The tendrils around my cock tighten, stroking me faster, and I can’t hold back anymore. My orgasm hits me like a tidal wave, my body locking up as I spill between us. The intensity of it is overwhelming, my vision blurring as pleasure courses through me.

As I come, I feel a new sensation—a heat spilling inside me. It’s not from his cock but from the tendrils, which pulse as they release, just the ones deep inside me. The warmth spreads through me, filling me in a way that feels impossibly intimate.

And then it happens.

The bond snaps into place, a surge of energy and emotion so powerful that I cry out again, my body racked with another orgasm. A fresh rope of cum spills from me, my oversensitive cock twitching in his tendrils’ grip.

“Jack.” Solan’s voice fills my mind, not out loud but felt. It’s a prayer, a plea, filled with love and reverence. The connection is everywhere, wrapping around my soul and binding us together. His emotions flood me—his love, his devotion, his awe—and I can’t hold back the tears that spring to my eyes.

“Solan,” I whisper aloud, my voice trembling. “You’re… you’re in my head.”

“And you in mine,” he replies, his mental voice soft and reverent. “It is… everything. You are everything.”

I am?

I have no idea how, but though the connection is strange and overwhelming, it feels right. It feels like coming home.

As the tendrils inside me begin to retreat, I shudder at the sensation. My body is hyperalert, every nerve ending tingling as they leave me one by one. When the last one withdraws, I feel an ache—a sense of loss—but it’s quickly replaced by the warmth of Solan’s arms around me. His cock is still inside me, pulsing gently, and I hold onto him, not ready to let go.

“You were made for me,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “And me for you.”

And fuck if I don’t feel like a sappy shit, but this is what he does to me. Turns me inside out and makes me feel complete in ways I don’t fully understand.

He kisses me then, soft and slow, his forked tongue sliding against mine. It’s a dance, a promise, and I lose myself in it, letting him claim me all over again. His tendrils, no longer inside me, stroke my skin instead, gentle and soothing. Even as my cock softens, they continue to pet me, coaxing every last tremor of pleasure from my body until I’m completely spent.

Finally, Solan pulls out, slow and careful, his sated golden gaze locked onto mine. I wince slightly at the emptiness, but his hands on my hips and his tendrils wrapping around me make me feel grounded.

“Rest,” he murmurs, his voice soft but commanding.

I nod, too exhausted to argue, and let him guide me under the soft covers. His arms wrap around me, his tendrils cocooning us in warmth. The steady beat of his heart against my back lulls me into a blissful haze, and as sleep takes me, my last coherent thought is that I’ve never felt more whole.