Page 40 of Tharn’s Hunt (Barbarians of the Dust #2)

NAKED AND (NOT) AFRAID

JACQUI

I wake the way a planet might wake to its first sunrise. Slow, dazed, irrevocably changed.

My body feels different. Not just the pleasant ache between my thighs, the ghost of his teeth on my neck, the places where his claws left possessive marks. Something deeper. Like my bones have been reforged. Like my blood sings.

Tharn is wrapped around me—a furnace of muscle and heat, his arm slung heavy over my waist, his chest pressed flush against my back. His breath stirs my hair with each exhale, and for one reckless moment, I consider pretending to sleep forever.

But the light shifting through the cave is too bright, the air too thick with the scent of us. Salt and musk and something electric that makes me inhale even deeper. I turn carefully, my movement barely a whisper, but his arm tightens instinctively.

“Mine .”

My gaze flies to his, but he’s still resting. A soft huff of a chuckle brushes through my nose, my cheeks warming even as everything else within me warms. Even unconscious, he won’t let me go.

Good .

His face is softer in sleep, the usual intensity smoothed into something softer, almost vulnerable.

I lift my arm, tracing with my finger, following the curve down his shoulder.

He’s beautiful.

Alien.

Mine .

A month ago, that thought would’ve sent me into a panic. Now? After the way he ruined me, after the way our minds collided at the peak of pleasure— after feeling his soul knit to mine —it’s the only truth left.

This is why Justine will never leave. This is why I will never leave…

Tharn's eyes open suddenly, catching me mid-trace. His lips slowly curve into a smile.

That same damn smile that sent me scrambling backward the first time he tried it. Back when his unfamiliar facial muscles had twisted the expression into something feral, when I'd mistaken bared teeth for threat instead of tentative affection.

Now, heat crawls up my neck for entirely different reasons.

" You look ," his mental voice slides into my mind, a low rumble that vibrates through the bone. I blink. We're not touching. The connection is just… open. " Your thoughts are loud ."

Oh, this is new.

And terrible. Because Tharn with a direct line to my brain is apparently Tharn with no damn filter. " And you're smug ," I shoot back.

His grin widens, all fangs. " Your pleasure made me so ."

The bluntness makes my face flame. I press my palm against his chest to shove him—or maybe climb him. " You're imagining things ."

He catches my wrist easily, his thumb brushing my racing pulse. His eyes darken. " I am not imagining this ," he projects, the thought a low thrum against my skin. He brings my knuckles to his mouth, his fangs grazing them lightly. " You taste of me. I want to taste me on you again. "

A low growl rumbles in his chest. He rolls, covering my body with his. His mouth finds mine, not asking but taking, a deep, slow kiss that tastes of possession. His hands are heavy on my sides, his thumbs finding the soft swell of my breasts, pressing in, learning my shape. I shudder.

His tongue flicks against mine, once, and I forget to breathe.

I’m arching into him, gripping his broad shoulders, when?—

Clatter.

Stone on stone. Distant voices approaching.

Reality crashes in.

I break the kiss with a gasp, but Tharn chases my lips, growling when I turn my face away.

“We should probably go out there,” I murmur, though every cell in my body screams protest.

Tharn makes a sound—half snarl, half plea—and drops his forehead to my collarbone, his breath ragged. For a heartbeat, I think he’ll ignore the world and take me, anyway.

Then, with obvious grievance, he rolls away.

Cheeks flaming like the desert outside, I sit up, and pretend to have a modicum of decency as my gaze shifts over the cave floor for my bra. Stretching, I freeze.

Something’s wrong.

No. Wait.

Something’s right .

The exhaustion that’s clung to me like a second skin since landing on this cursed planet? Gone. The low-grade fever, the bone-deep ache, the fog that made every step feel like wading through syrup? Vanished.

I flex my hands. My muscles sing with strength I haven’t felt in months. My mind is clear, sharp, like I’ve been doused in ice water and sunlight all at once.

What the hell ?

My gaze shoots to Tharn just as he reaches for me. “Tharn, I’m…stronger.”

His massive hands pull me back against his chest, my bare spine flush with the furnace-heat of him. His breath ghosts warm across my shoulder as he speaks.

" You were never weak ." His mental voice wraps around me like another embrace. " Your body fought a war. Every breath here was a battle. And still —" His arms tighten. " Still, you burned brighter than Ain herself ."

I turn in his grasp, needing to see his face. Those golden-amber eyes meet mine, their usual intensity softened by something that makes my throat tight.

" I have words now ," his thoughts murmur, calloused thumbs tracing my hipbones. " So many words I couldn't say in the dust ."

He pauses, eyes searching mine.

" When you showed me your world—all that water, all the green—I tasted your longing. And feared... " His gaze searches mine. " Feared you'd choose that sky over mine ."

My breath stops in my chest. His claws extend just enough to prick warning against my skin as he leans down, forehead pressing to mine.

" Know this, Jah-kee … I will tear apart this desert to keep you. Shatter every law. Flood the wastes with lifeblood if that is what it takes ."

His vow hangs between us, terrifying in its certainty. I should be alarmed. Maybe I am. But my traitorous heart pounds against his chest in answer.

I press closer, until his next breath fills my lungs too. "You idiot," I whisper against his lips. " Did you ever consider I might choose you back ?"

Tharn goes utterly still at my words.

A snarl tears from his chest, and suddenly I’m on my back, his body crushing me into the furs, his mouth claiming mine in a kiss that’s more battle than affection.

His hands are everywhere. Kneading my thighs, gripping my hips, dragging me against him until I feel the thick, aching length of him pressed between us.

" You. Choose. Me? "

The words are guttural, disbelieving, like he’s tasting them for the first time.

I don’t get to answer.

His claws sink into the furs beside my head as he slides into me. Slow, torturous, his golden eyes locked on mine, watching every flinch, every gasp, every shudder as he fills me completely.

" Say it again ," he growls.

I can’t. Not when he moves, his hips rolling in a deep, devastating rhythm that makes my vision blur. The ridges along his shaft drag against me, the swollen curve at his base grinding ruthlessly against my clit with every thrust.

" Jah-kee ." My name is a warning spreading from his mind to mine.

I sob, my legs locking around his waist as I pull him deeper inside, and my heels find them.

The strange, raised ridges along the sides of his hips.

They are perfect handholds, but for my feet.

My heels slot into the grooves as if they were carved for me, allowing me to pull him impossibly deeper with every returning thrust. " I choose you, you bastard ? — ! "

His roar shakes the cave as his climax ruptures through him, his cock pulsing inside me, his hips jerking as he spills deep. The bond between us ignites, and I’m coming with him, my back arching off the furs as pleasure obliterates every thought.

For one fractured moment, we’re not two bodies. We’re starlight, collision, the last two survivors of a dying universe.

Then Tharn collapses over me, his forehead pressed to mine, his breath ragged.

“ My female. My beautiful, perfect Jah-kee .”

My clothes—or more accurately, the fabric ghosts of what used to be clothes—lie in tattered ruins across the alcove floor.

I hold up what might have once been a shirt sleeve. "Fantastic. At this rate, I'll be fashioning pasties from cave lichen by next week."

Tharn watches from the furs, propped on one elbow like some golden desert god, utterly unrepentant. Sunlight catches his skin, painting him like he’s Zeus himself.

" We Drakav do not cover ," he projects, his mental voice syrup-smooth. The bastard even has the audacity to gesture at his own naked glory, as if his stupidly perfect physique is a compelling argument.

I fling a scrap of fabric at his head. It flutters pathetically to the ground halfway. " You're wearing my blouse as a loincloth ."

He glances down at the makeshift garment—stretched taut over his hips, the fabric barely containing him—and has the nerve to look pleased. " It smells like you ."

Heat floods my cheeks. "That's not— That's not the point !"

Tharn moves, a blur of golden muscle, closing the distance before I can draw a breath. His hands clamp onto my bare waist, his grip firm, possessive. His gaze drops to my mouth, his own lips parting slightly.

" Better this way ," his thought is a low, guttural rumble. " No coverings. Easier to taste ." His head dips, his fangs grazing my bottom lip like a promise. A brand.

Corn on the cob.

It's a dirty tactic. Effective, but dirty.

I shove at his chest—or try to. My newfound strength doesn’t even cause him to budge. When, after a second, he stumbles back a step, I know he did that for my benefit.

I roll my eyes, but my humor dies when his gaze catches on the marks along my neck. His pupils blow wide, his breathing stutters.

" Jah-kee —" His claws hover over the bruises like he’s afraid to touch them. " I hurt you ."

"It’s fine, they don’t even—Tharn!"

He’s already halfway across the cave, bolting for the entrance.

Two minutes later, he explodes back into the alcove, clutching a fistful of firebloom, already crushed.

" Eat ," he orders, shoving the petals at my mouth.

"I don't need—mmph!" He stuffs some between my lips.

" And these. " He crushes the remaining petals in his palm, then smears the paste over my neck.

The effect is instantaneous. The firebloom stings, but soon there’s a soothing coolness spreading over my skin.

I stare at him.

He stares back, chest heaving, eyes wild with guilt.

Silence.

"Oh, Tharn," I whisper.

He collapses against me, his forehead pressed to mine, his arms locking around my waist like I might vanish. " You are hurt. I fix it ."

"They’re hickies, Tharn. Not stab wounds."

" Same thing ."

“Jaqs? Are you awake?” Justine’s voice winds through the caves to our alcove, and my eyes widen.

“Shit. Time to face the music.” I just had sex with an alien, my alien, and I liked it.

My gaze falls back to the floor, scanning for my clothes. “Yeah, coming, just…just give me a second.” I find what’s left of my skirt and sigh. "I need actual clothing. These won’t last for much longer .”

Tharn tilts his head, watching me. After a moment of consideration, he crosses to the far side of the alcove, retrieving something from a small storage niche.

It's a hide. Soft, well-tanned, and surprisingly supple. He offers it to me.

" A covering ," he projects, his thought simple. " For now ."

I take the hide, touched by his thoughtfulness. It's large enough to wrap around my torso and tie at the shoulder, creating a makeshift dress that covers everything essential.

"Thank you," I say, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to his jaw. "It's perfect for now."

His hands clamp onto my waist, his grip firm, possessive. His gaze drops to the hide I'm now wearing.

" It is temporary ," his thought is a low rumble. " I will tear it off you in the dark ."