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Then Nala shattered my world with a single, softly uttered word: “Yes.”

***

Nala

When I woke, I’d asked Zap to take me to Artek with only one thought in mind: to confront him about the glowing marks.

Then I saw him, and he’d looked so lonely and tired, seated on the edge of the bed next to that patient, that I’d gotten a little reckless.

The tail around my ankle, possessively holding me like he couldn’t even stop himself from reaching for me, that was the final straw.

The entire time I’d followed Zap through the lit tunnels to Artek, I’d been wondering if I’d made a mistake telling the women at Haven I wanted to stay.

I knew it wasn’t now, though, in his arms again, like he couldn’t get enough of me.

My rational, scientist brain—the part of me that had always made all the choices until Athol—told me I was being hasty.

The bigger part of me just wanted to know that I was welcome, that he was attracted to me the way I was to him.

With my face pressed against his chest, my nose filled with the sweet and salt of his scent, strange but appealing.

His scales were warm and dry, smooth, and the gold necklaces he wore—at least a dozen in various lengths and thicknesses—had been heated by his body. It felt good, like I belonged there.

He told me to stay; he held me like he thought I might vanish.

I couldn’t recall anyone ever doing that, needing me like that.

But… I’d only woken this morning, I’d known Artek for a day, and he was completely alien.

The human women I’d spoken with assured me the Naga were good people, especially their mates, but they’d hurried to include the Shaman in that.

It didn’t mean I should rush into this… this mating, as they called it—if it even was something as elemental, as alien, as that.

Resting my head against his shoulder, I was content to just let him hold me for now, to let the questions wait a little longer.

I was still tired, and I knew that was due to both the pregnancy and the remnants of my trip in stasis.

All Artek was doing was rubbing his face against my hair, inhaling deeply like he was smelling me.

I was doing the same to him, so I didn’t mind.

I felt the tip of his tail wind up my leg, curling higher and higher with each sniff against my head.

When it reached my thigh, I began to grow a little uncomfortable, and slightly turned on at the same time.

How high was he going to go? Was he going to touch me there?

My fingers tightened against his scales, but they found no purchase, slipping across their smooth surface.

He hadn’t even kissed me yet, and even though I tilted my head toward him, he did not seem to get the message.

Then his tail tightened around my thigh, squeezing like a vise, not quite hard enough to hurt, but it certainly got my attention.

Jerked out of the languid haze of budding arousal, I twisted against Artek with a startled yelp.

With my hand, I leveraged myself against his chest just enough to tilt my head back and meet his glowing gaze. “What is going on, Artek?”

His expression was hard, unreadable at first, but pinks and reds danced like glimmers along his sharp cheekbones.

I raised a finger, touched one of the spots, and my skin met heat so hot it almost scalded.

A whispering noise fluttered through the air, followed by a long, slow hiss as Artek flicked out his strange, split tongue.

“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve never done this before. ”

What? I blinked at him, certain I’d heard that wrong.

A man as handsome as Artek—and he’d never done this before?

I had to be mistaken, or maybe this was one of those huge cultural divides I knew had to be there.

Opening my mouth, I started to ask, but he spun, still holding me tightly, and brought me to the edge of the nearest bed.

That tight grip of his tail around my thigh—it pulled now—and I found my legs parting, making space for his narrow hips between them.

Derailed, I wondered what part of this he hadn’t done before, because he certainly seemed to know how to drive me crazy.

Held snugly in his grasp, I was trapped, but also exactly where I wanted to be.

This attraction had been simmering beneath the surface since the moment I woke, and it was finally coming to a boil.

To know that it wasn’t one-sided was a huge relief, even if part of me wondered whether I was making the same mistakes I’d made on Earth.

I had never needed anyone to make me feel complete, to give meaning to my life.

Not even the approval of my parents before they passed away, parents who’d taught me to be independent and self-reliant.

Strong. Athol had made me lose my stride, accepting outside help when I was at my lowest. But Artek?

Artek changed the rules completely. In less than a day, he had me twisting with need, making gut choices based on feeling rather than logic.

Stay? When other humans offered me a perfectly good place to go?

Stay… because Artek made me feel a kind of attraction that was out of this world, or rather, not found on Earth, but possibly common here.

Then Artek shifted us even further, our bodies coming down together onto the bowl-shaped bed.

Softness pressed against me from behind, all lush pillows, while his body was a mix of hard angles and sinewy muscle as it caged me against the bed.

I did not feel his cock, but maybe we were misaligned, I certainly craved the hard press of him against my core.

His face rubbed against my hair, my cheek, my throat, not quite kisses as he flicked his tongue against my skin.

It was a novel thought when it popped into my head, but I realized it might be true when Artek still didn’t take the bait.

I’d twisted my head so our mouths almost brushed together, but he didn’t kiss me.

Naga didn’t kiss, that had to be it. But I really wanted Artek to kiss me.

Boldly, I clasped his face in my hands, marveling at how fine the scales were along his face.

“Kiss me, Artek. Do you know what that is? I really need you to kiss me.”

He reared back, but he didn’t go far, his golden eyes gleaming wildly at me.

His upper lip was curled, and his fangs—thin and sharp—were on display.

“I know,” he said firmly, but a hint of hesitation simmered in the look he gave me.

“I’ve seen it at Haven,” he admitted. Ah, so the humans there had enticed their mates into kissing.

I hoped that meant Artek would enjoy it too.

“Come here,” I told him, and I urged him back down against me.

Just to tempt us both a little more, I canted my hips and tightened my legs around his narrow waist. He came willingly, eagerly, even—and when I tilted my head and brushed my lips softly against his, he hissed.

His body grew tight as a bowstring, quivering with tension.

I brushed my mouth against his again, marveling at the texture of his lips: slightly rough, not quite smooth.

But when I gave his lush lower lip a tentative lick, sweet and salt exploded on my tongue in a heady combination.

He growled, jars rattling on the wall, and then his tongue flicked out to meet mine.

His was so long, and it was split, he could tangle it around mine, sweep it into my mouth.

Once he’d done that, all bets were off. If I’d thought he was a mysterious, sometimes aloof Shaman, sophisticated and polished, I was seeing a whole other side of him now: feral, wild.

His body bucked against mine, his mouth laying claim to mine in a way that set my body on fire.

He said he’d never done this. I knew he’d never kissed, but he was a quick student, and fast becoming a master at how to play me.

I moaned as his tongue stroked along the roof of my mouth and pressed my hips more tightly against his belly, my core aching, wet and desperate for more.

“Artek,” I moaned when he let me breathe.

“Please!” I did not even know what I was asking at this point, only that I never wanted him to stop.

Kissing was supposed to be a fun prelude; it wasn’t supposed to feel like sex.

It was so novel, and so exciting, that it did. I felt like I was about to explode.

“I will protect you, Nala,” Artek swore in a rough voice.

I wasn’t quite sure what he was promising to protect me against. Him?

Me? Some unknown threat out there? Then his hands began to move, and it wasn’t just his hands.

The agile tip of his tail also began exploring me.

I wanted him to stay on top of me, but he rolled us, taking the pressure off the curve of my belly.

He kissed me again, distracting me, and then his hands were on my breasts, kneading, shaping, driving me crazy.

A thumb brushed my nipple, and I twitched against him, my moan muffled against his mouth.

The tail—that naughty tail—shifted around my thigh, slid over my ass in a tantalizing caress, and then dipped between my legs.

He never undressed me; all his touches were through the gray fabric of the clothes I’d been put into stasis with.

Yet when he brushed over my core, I broke and shattered, my orgasm crashing through me like a tidal wave.