Page 125 of Starborn Husbands

“Didn’t. He did,” Atlanta murmurs, pulling the debris from Gem’s hair, frowning at the cuts and red patches that are going to turn purple by the evening.

I roll over to confront Zhang about that, but he’s already up, extending a hand for me. A doughy feeling makes my limbs too heavy and ignites the dancing light beneath my skin.

“You got Father to loan you his ship? I’ve been trying since I was a youngling starlet and that’s never happened.”

“Guess he likes me,” Zhang says. His heated eyes set my special places to tingling. If he does it for any longer, I’m going to combust.

“As a human would say, Hell hath frozen over,” I declare.

He rests his forehead against mine and rubs my nose with his. “Meant what I said earlier, I missed you, Orion.”

“If you two are gonna fuck, get the fuck off the ship deck. Gem, why isn’t your ass in my arms already?” my brother says with all the eloquence he’s known for.

Which is none, by the way.

Gem scrambles to latch onto him.

“Fuckin’ nonsense, Gem,” Atlanta says, pulling Gemini over to the driver’s seat and then into his lap in a way that’s definitely going to lead to a space crash.

“If I survived the grand seraph only to die in a ship accident because of your dick, Atlanta?—”

“Treyu? You’re on thin ice with me. Get the fuck out of here before I sink my blade into your ass.”

I lunge, but the boulder that is my husband snatches my jacket, tugging me to him. “Leave it,” he says.

“No. I want to know what the fuck his problem is.” I glare in Atlanta’s direction for good measure.

“C’mon, I have something better for us to do,” Zhang says, dragging me off and preventing murder.

“Hello to you too, Atlanta, you fucking dick!” I shout while being tossed over Zhang’s shoulder, his preferred method of Treyu travel.

There’s a zing of the air parting and awhooshby my head. A small starblade plunges into the wall of Father’s ship, missing my skull by centimeters. Atlanta doesn’t miss. A blade whizzing by your head is another way that he tells you to shut the fuck up or that blade will go somewhere you really don't want it to.

Zhang doesn’t take me far. Just far enough away from my dickhead brother that I focus on my dangerously hot husband instead. I’m probably not supposed to be thinking about sex at a time like this, but I’m a dude, we’re always thinking about sex. Always, always, always. It doesn’t help that my balls are heavy and blue as fuck.

Zhang’s with me on the lust. The darkness in his eyes from before is gone, replaced with alluring hunger. He’s not glowing just now, but the fire-orange rings around his brown irises blaze.

My heart’s pounding in time with the arousal in my dick.

He tosses me from his shoulder and slams me against the wall, attacking my mouth, shoving his tongue down my throat. “I thought … thought I was never going to see you again,” he punches out between hearty kisses.

We suck face while shedding our clothes, ripping them off our bodies as if they’re the heat burning us alive when really, it’s need. I need him. He needs me.

I need his cock railing me.

“Fuck, need you inside me, babe.”

Zhang freezes, staring at my arm, now uncovered. The jacket has somehow remained intact, but not my arm. There’s a long-fingered, Merrick-sized handprint, beating bright red. It burns the way a fresh burn would, but it doesn’t look like one, the skin has already healed over as a scar.

His jaw tightens. “That bastard marked you.”

“No, he—” I cut myself off from speaking. This little incident has activated Zhang’s most savage display of jealousy yet. It’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. His brown eyes dilate, and he’s set to dominate. Every ounce of his alpha male energy’s on me.

My new jacket’s quickly on the floor heaped on top of Zhang’s red one, his hands rip my frail shirt apart as I fumble with his weapons belt. It’s empty at the moment, which bodes well for us. I can toss it to the side without fear that something will explode. Pants are torn off, and our hands paw at newly naked flesh, slipping over beads of sweat.

Slick leaks down my thighs and his meaty paw roughly fondles my crease, bringing the sweet juices to my lips so I can taste myself.

“You’re so wet for me,” he says. “Fuck, I’m gonna claim you so hard, Centaurus.”