Page 67 of Alien Warlord's Fury
When she finished my back, I turned to face her. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the complex patterns across my chest. I guided her hand to the central nexus point over my heart.
"Here," I said softly. "This is the primary connection point."
Claire applied the paste with unexpected gentleness, her fingers tracing the golden spirals that radiated outward. I remained perfectly still, though every muscle urged me to pull her closer. Her touch lingered, the bond between us humming, growing hotter.
She looked up, her eyes dark with something that mirrored the fire in my own chest. The paste, the purpose, the danger—it all faded. There was only her, the silver light of her markings calling to my gold.
I caught her wrist, stopping her careful movements. Her breath hitched.
"Nirako?" she whispered...
Chapter Twenty Three: Claire
Nirako caught my wrist, stopping my careful movements. His touch sent a jolt through me, the bond flaring hot between us. The air crackled, thick with unspoken tension.
"Nirako?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.
His eyes met mine, the usual disciplined control replaced by something raw, something hungry. "Claire," he breathed, his voice rough.
In that moment, the mission, the compound, the very air I breathed seemed insignificant. There was only him, the golden light of his lifelines calling to my silver. I reached for him, my fingers finding the back of his neck, pulling him toward me.
Our lips met with an urgency that surprised even me. This wasn't like before—not the slow exploration of our first time, nor the tender reconnection after applying the paste. This was desperation, pure and raw.
Nirako responded instantly, his arms encircling me, lifting me against him. My legs wrapped around his waist as he pressed me against the wall, our bodies seeking maximum contact. Thepaste on our skin created a strange friction, but I barely noticed, too consumed by the need burning through me.
"Claire," he breathed against my mouth.
"I need this," I whispered back. "I need you. Before we go in there. Before?—"
I couldn't finish the thought. Before we die. Before we're separated.
Before Hammond tears us apart.
Nirako understood. His hands moved to my clothes, removing them with efficient precision. I did the same for him, our movements quick, almost frantic.
There was no time for slow seduction. No time for gentle discovery. We had hours before an infiltration that might kill us both, and I needed to feel alive.
I needed to feel him. His tail tightened around my ankle, a silent anchor as the kiss grew rougher.
"If this is our last night—" I started.
"Don't," he cut me off, his mouth finding the pulse point at my neck. "Don't say it."
He was right. Words would only make it more real, more final. Instead, I let my body speak, arching against him as his hands mapped my skin, finding places he'd already learned drove me to the edge.
Our first time had been about discovery—finding each other through the bond that had formed between us. This was different. This was claiming, marking, imprinting ourselves on each other's bodies and souls.
Nirako lifted me higher, his strength making it effortless. I gasped as he entered me in one swift motion, my body already ready for him. The bond between us flared open, silver and gold light pulsing beneath our skin despite the masking paste.
I felt his pleasure as my own, doubled and reflected back. I felt the muscles in his tail tense against my hip.
"Mine," he growled against my ear, his voice deeper than I'd ever heard it.
"Yours," I agreed, my nails digging into his shoulders. "And you're mine."
He moved then, driving into me with a force that would have hurt if not for our shared pleasure through the bond. Each thrust pushed me higher, closer to the edge. I bit down on his shoulder to keep from crying out, tasting the salt of his skin and the bitter tang of the paste.
The scales of his tail slid across my back, raising gooseflesh despite the heat between us.
