Page 29 of The Dreamer and the Deep Space Warrior (Xaal Alien Romance #1)

Ved

It wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough.

Ved couldn’t be sated, not this night. As Isobel panted beneath him all he could think was more . He wanted more of her sweet whimpers, more of her walls clenching around him, more of her pleasure. He was drunk off the scent of her, off the feel of her finally in his grasp.

It’d taken all his self-control not to bury himself as deep as he could go within her. If he had, he knew he’d have lost himself—become more beast than Xaal. He’d have taken and taken until neither of them remembered their names.

Until they were both ruined.

Her tight heat was unwilling to let him go, and it took everything in him to finally pull out of her.

Still, she was a vision beneath him. Curls wild, body slack in his hold.

She was all supple brown flesh and delicate curves that yielded in his hands.

But it was the way she looked at him that wrecked him.

Like she saw him. Fully .

Moving down her body, he let his touch linger—on her breasts, her soft, round stomach, her full hips—until he was between her thighs.

He took in her sex, the pleasure bud that had made her whimper for him, her perfect hole that had his seed spilling out.

Something scorching and possessive overtook him at the sight of the sensual mess left behind.

Stars damn him, but he’d already fallen into madness, and he wasn’t sure how to escape.

Isobel stared at him curiously as he pressed a finger carefully inside of her, pushing his seed back into her. She whimpered prettily even as her hips came up to meet his hand.

“This belongs here.” He hardly recognized his own voice. “And you’re so good for me, aren’t you, Isobel? So perfect. You’ll keep it there.”

She hummed in agreement. “Vay.”

He moved beside her and gently pulled her toward him.

She melded against his side, fitting perfectly in the space between his ribs and arm.

Her skin was so soft that he feared his own would mar hers, but she curled into him without thought.

He breathed the scent of her in, lavender in rain, as her hair tickled his chest.

“Ved?” she murmured against his neck.

Nevskol. The way she said his name went straight to his cock. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the animalistic desires down. “Vay?”

“I wish we could stay here forever,” she confessed, her voice thick. “You didn’t even get to try tea.”

He grunted as he fought against unfamiliar emotions. “The stars are cruel.”

Silence overtook them as she drew letters into his skin with her fingertip and traced the scars on his chest.

When she spoke next, though, there was a sleepy contentedness to her voice that had his chest tightening. “I don’t want to think of tomorrow. What would we be doing if we were on Runus right now?

He allowed himself to think of her on Runus, of her with him in Cleave territory.

In his home, his bed. “The first rays of daybreak would be creeping into my chamber. The days are growing colder there, and we would feel it in the morning air, that promise of winter. If we lazed around too long, and Kravis were alive, he would come and get me before long. He and I usually trained for several hours in the early morning. But you could do whatever pleased you—sleep, take a hot bath in my personal pools, read your favorite book in bed. No one would disturb you.”

“That sounds peaceful.” She yawned and placed her hand flat against his chest, right above the thick artery that connected his two hearts. “And your clan? Would they accept me?”

“They would.” Or they’d die. It wasn’t customary for Xaal to bind themselves to another species.

Forbidden, even, in some edict forgotten to time.

Ved liked to think his clan was loyal to him, would fight to the very ends of the galaxy for him, but he wasn’t na?ve enough to think loyalties never changed.

Runus wasn’t peaceful, but if he could, he’d create the perfect place of solace. A safe haven for her and her alone. Even if it were in the middle of a stars-damned battlefield.

If only he could.

But he was not destined for such a life. His strength was the only thing he could rely on; that was what his clan needed. He couldn’t afford to be anything but ruthless.

He’d don his armor and become Qon again in a few short hours. But for tonight, he would simply be with her.

And it would have to be enough.

Ved waited for Isobel’s breathing to take on the rhythm of deep sleep before he took her home. When he’d safely tucked her into her bed, he apologized to her sleeping form.

He had promised he wouldn’t kill that despicable human Richard for what he had done to her.

He’d lied.

When he’d pulled down the layers of her dress and seen the bruises around her arm, he’d been angered anew. And when she’d fallen asleep in his arms, he couldn’t imagine her ever being in harm’s way again.

But there was another reason he needed to kill this Lord Richard Seymour —Ved didn’t want the male’s hands touching what was his .

“ If you kill an innocent native that did not make contact with you first, you will be violating a whole other set of Authority laws ,” Exxo said. “ You are being reckless .”

Exxo had been steadily reprimanding him the entire way to the male’s dwelling.

Ved pointedly ignored him until the AI blasted a raucously loud and long beep that caused his ears to ring.

“I know what I’m doing,” Ved snarled.

“ Why do you enlist my services, exactly? You never listen to me. I told you to kill the human female, you did not listen. I told you not to tell her information, you did not listen. I told you that under absolutely no circumstance should you touch her and leave your scent all over her. You did not listen. I should have allowed your vessel to be torn asunder as we entered the atmosphere for as much as you appreciate me .” Exxo sniffed indignantly before going silent altogether.

Finally.

Ved traversed the streets of Cinder as if he’d been there before.

After the number of seedy planets and metropolises he’d been to in his lifetime, the human city was no different.

It wasn’t the worst place by far, but still there were people who walked or creeped around at night.

There was no advertising for fighting dens and pleasure houses, but he was surprised to find such places existed at all in Isobel’s world of extreme constrictions and strange customs.

His mind wandered to her. They agreed on one night, but the vow had tasted strange on his lips. When he’d left her sleeping in her chamber, something gnawed at him.

But taking anything beyond this one night was a vulnerability. A weakness.

He couldn’t give anyone the pieces of himself that could be forged into a weapon against him.

When he lay bleeding out on that fateful night fifty-six cycles ago, he’d sworn that if he survived, he’d never be weak again. He purged his frailty like a sickness. Pulled it from his bones, lashed it from his mind. He made himself into a honed weapon, impenetrable armor, a vault with no entry.

The enemy clans wouldn’t hesitate to use her against him, to try to divide his clan. Not to mention that she was a distraction. Whatever strange emotions had grown for her, he needed to swiftly cut them out.

Which was why, in a matter of hours, he’d be back in space, leaving her behind for good.

He had to .

A dark and brutish part of himself had considered stealing her away, though. Nevskol the Authority and anyone else who would stand in his way.

But she had a family that cared for her, and as long as he took care of this dishonorable male that had harmed her, she would be safe in her lavender fields with her books.

He’d think of her like that. Of the way she read books out loud, creating a different voice for each character. How she was curious and intelligent, soft and gentle. He’d remember her tinged in pink after she felt she embarrassed herself, and how she’d called his name while finding release.

But eventually, he would need to forget her entirely.

He’d known it even as he spent the hour after she’d fallen asleep committing her to memory.

He couldn’t afford his focus to be fractured, didn’t have time to deal with any desire beyond destroying Clan Rax and any other enemy that wished to come against Cleave.

When finally he found himself on the male’s street, he pushed any thoughts of Isobel down.

Richard’s dwelling was unlike Isobel’s. It sat close to other structures on an open road. Here people didn’t roam or walk around drunkenly. Though a quick thermal scan revealed some dwellings had humans already stirring, no one moved within Richard’s.

In fact, there were only two other humans inside. Both were asleep on a lower floor. From what he knew of such humans, they should have multiple people living with them and tending to their household. Isobel’s family employed numerous staff, and she’d told him each of their roles.

Interesting.

Finding the door locked, Ved worked quickly with a small tool until it pulled open. He slipped inside.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but a nearly empty place wasn’t it.

Isobel’s home had something in every room.

Cushioned seating areas, long tables, dark wood cabinets, grand bookshelves, strange art hanging on the walls.

Richard’s home looked as if Kroids had been there and ransacked all of his goods.

The space was so empty that Ved had to ascend the stairs slowly so as not to allow his footsteps to echo.

The floor where Richard’s quarters were suffered the same strange emptiness. Ved could tell where objects had been recently moved, dust having not yet collected in the empty space.

Isobel made it seem as if her intended was some station above her and her brother. But the lack of amenities in his home said otherwise. Even Xaal were materialistic to an extent and would find the male lacking. And Isobel would be expected to move from her family home to this Richard’s?

Ved gritted his teeth. Not only had the damned male dared to touch her and speak recklessly to her, but it was obvious he wouldn’t be able to provide for her needs, either. Where were the books? The flowers?

Death was the only punishment for such offenses.

Richard’s bedroom door was unlocked. Still cloaked, Ved pushed it open soundlessly.

The male still had a bed, at least, and a wardrobe. Otherwise, this room was as sparse as the rest of his home.

This was the closest Ved had been to him since seeing him in the forest. He didn’t like the way he looked, the way he smelled. The mere scent of him alone was enough to make Ved draw his plasma dirk.

Richard slept on his back, one hand tucked behind his neck. Puny and defenseless. No weapons were in sight, but on a stand next to his bed sat several bottles, the aroma of which was chemical and sharp .

The male shifted in his sleep, drawing Ved’s attention again. He’d known Xaal like him—the kind that were born thinking they were better than everyone else. The kind that demanded respect without having earned it through blood and triumph. The kind whose names were never remembered.

Curling his lip in disgust, he stepped forward. In the same moment, he caught another scent he detested.

They’d arrived quicker than he had anticipated they would. He had maybe thirty seconds, and that wasn’t nearly long enough for what he wanted to do to Richard. The male didn’t deserve a quick death.

“Richard Seymour,” Ved barked.

The male startled awake, his arms flapping uselessly as if to fend someone off. His light-colored hair spiked up in a ridiculous manner, and his eyes were wild with fright.

But when he caught sight of Ved, who only allowed the glow of his eye shields and the spark of his plasma dirk to be visible, his face twisted in horror.

He shouted something unintelligible as he backed away, plastering himself against the headboard.

Bitter fear and the acrid smell of his urine filled the space.

“W-What are you?” he stammered.

“I’ll be back for you,” Ved promised in a growl, pointing his blade at his chest.

A floorboard creaked distinctly—purposefully—in the hall.

He was out of time.

Stepping out of the room, Ved found the two Blood Vultures waiting for him. They were mere shadows on the dark landing, except where their pistols pointed at his hearts.

Exxo, with only the slightest bit of smugness, said, “ I told you this was reckless, Qon .”