“Kai.” My name on her lips sent a bolt of fire to my cock. Every nerve in my body crackled, ready to explode. Her keening cry built as I pushed her toward another orgasm. I wanted her pussy pulsing and in spasms around my cock. I wanted her to squeeze my hard length, take me deep, take my seed and carry part of me inside her body forever.
Harder. Faster. I rocked my hips, held her in place, fucked her with an intensity I knew would push us both over the edge.
My balls drew up with a sharp pain. I held on to the razor’s edge, not wanting this to be over. I never wanted to stop fucking her. Never.
Her body went rigid, her lips frozen around a gasp for air as the walls of her pussy pulsed around my cock, a vice one moment, a massage the next.
With a deep rumble I could not contain, my cock jumped, filled her with my seed. Marked her. Made her mine.
I fucked her through it all, until thick seed dripped from her body to be rinsed away by the hot water pouring over my back. I held her there, pinned to the wall, my cock balls deep inside her as we both struggled to catch our breath.
This first time was for the beast. That was our nature.
Next time would be mine. I would take my time, lick and kiss and taste every inch of her. Learn what she liked, what made her shiver, gasp, beg. I would conquer her body, learn all of her secrets. Make her come over and over until she begged for mercy and for more in the same breath.
The beast settled, sated, the mating cuffs an anchor for him, a promise to care for and serve our female for the rest of our life. His purpose. His safe haven. Her acceptance of our claim was everything. She was everything now, our life, our reason for being.
The beast lifted her soft body off his cock, raised her until her lips were close. The kiss he gave her stunned us both. His surrender was in that kiss. His promise to obey and worship her, only her, until the day he died.
I’d felt his killing rage, his eagerness for battle. The beast, on any given day, could be impatient, irritated, angry, proud, or, since the mating fever took hold, lonely, hopeless and in pain. I’d never felt this.
Peace. Contentment. Devotion. Obsession.
We would never tire of seeing her or hearing her voice. Every moment of every day we would crave her touch, her acceptance, her smile. Obsession was a weak word for the chains that now bound my soul to hers. My beast would not be able to survive without her.
As difficult as enduring mating fever had been, this was even more intense. Permanent. Without Larkspur, I would die. My beast would simply refuse to exist in a world without her. The depth of his conviction was unexpected and unnerving.
My mind raced as he kissed her, was still kissing her.
We need to go. Could we stay here for hours enjoying this stolen moment of pleasure? Yes. Unfortunately, our mission was not complete, Larkspur would not be safe until the pictures she took were in the hands of Commander Helion and the I.C., and we were safely tucked away in our quarters on The Colony.
Fuck off. Mine. As if to emphasize his point, he settled her on her feet and gently began washing her petite body. He took his damn time, cock hard and ready to take her again before he was finished. She swayed on her feet, hands landing on the beast’s forearms as she fought for balance.
“Wow. That was intense.” Her eyes were closed. The relaxed, dreamy expression on her face made my beast preen.
“Mine.”
She smiled. “Yes. I guess I am yours now, mate.”
She called us mate, the declaration of her claim healed a broken piece of me I didn’t know needed mending, my heart contorting with a painful twist in my chest. Mating fever had been painful. This? This hurt in an unfamiliar, piercing way.
As if these new feelings were too much for him, the beast retreated, leaving me to untangle the messy, jumbled emotions rushing through our body like wildfire devouring kindling. I always knew finding our mate would be unforgettable, a fucking miracle.
I never expected it to hurt, to wake up parts of myself I’d tried to ignore, suppress and eliminate. Before coming to Earth, I’d given up, taken the smallest glimmer of hope and stomped it into oblivion. I never believed I would find a female who would deem me worthy, accept me with my scars and Hive integrations, wear my mating cuffs. Never.
Not knowing what else to do, I turned off the water and carried my mate to her bedroom. I knelt before her with a towel and wiped the water from her soft skin as gently as I could, afraid I’d hurt her, had already hurt her.
Had I fucked her too hard? Bruised her wrists where I held her against the wall? Did I injure her? Frighten her? Had the beast been too rough?
Why was she just staring at me with those gorgeous eyes? Why wasn’t she saying anything? Weren’t females supposed to talk incessantly, babbling every thought and feeling aloud in a near constant stream of words and emotions? If she didn’t talk, how the fuck was I supposed to figure out what she needed? Unlike some species in the Coalition Fleet, I wasn’t telepathic. Where was one of those damn Prillon mating collars when I needed one? Those fuckers used the collars to read their mates’ minds, their emotions. They cheated when seducing their females, making their mates fall in love.
In that moment I knew the source of my new pain. Larkspur didn’t love me. How could she? She barely knew me. My beast didn’t give a fuck. He saw, he claimed, he left me to figure out the rest, to seduce her, to make her fall in love.
What if I couldn’t? What if I failed? That was the most terrifying thought of my life.
Mine. The beast sounded amused by my fear as if this human female giving her heart to us was a given, a foregone conclusion. His confidence made no sense. No one had ever chosen us.
Shut the fuck up. You’re not helping.
