Arilee

ARILEE

R okan knelt over me, his powerful form casting a shadow across my body. For the first time, I got a clear view of his impressive manhood.

The broad, triangular head gleamed in the dim light. A series of soft flanges ran down the sides, unlike anything I'd seen on a human. My breath quickened as I took in the sight, remembering how it had felt inside me before.

But this was different. In the desert, we'd coupled out of raw need and animal instinct. Now, a deeper connection hummed between us and I searched Rokan's face, wondering if he felt it too.

I knew he was broken. The war had left its scars, visible and hidden. But I was broken too, in my own way. Maybe that's why we fit together now, two jagged pieces finding an unexpected alignment.

Rokan lowered himself onto me, his lips capturing mine. He entered me slowly, letting me adjust to his size. A gasp escaped me at the delicious stretch.

All thoughts fled my mind as he began to move. The flanges along his shaft created incredible friction, sending sparks of pleasure straight to my core. I clung to his broad shoulders, nails digging into gray skin.

"Rokan," I breathed against his mouth.

He growled in response, the sound vibrating through his chest. What was happening between us?

I arched up to meet his thrusts, our bodies finding a perfect rhythm. Sweat beaded on my skin as the heat between us built. Rokan's markings captured my gaze, hypnotizing me.

The world around us dissolved, leaving only the sacred space our bodies created. Rokan moved with a deliberate patience that unraveled me thread by thread. Each deliberate stroke of his alien anatomy stoked the fire within me, a slow burn that promised an inferno.

I felt myself opening up to him, not just physically but emotionally. With every measured thrust, he claimed a part of me I hadn't known was up for grabs. My breath hitched as he filled me completely, the flanges of his cock rubbing against places inside me that had never been touched.

"You're so tight, ," Rokan murmured, his voice a low rumble that resonated deep within my chest. "So perfect."

His words sent lightning through my body, enflaming me further. My legs coiled around his waist, pulling him even closer, if that was possible. Our bodies were slick with sweat, moving together in a dance as old as time, yet somehow, it felt new, felt like us.

Rokan's hands explored my body, tracing the curves and dips as if memorizing them. He touched me like I was precious, like I was his, and a small part of me reveled in that possessiveness. His fingers found my breasts, teasing my nipples into hard peaks, and I arched into his touch, craving more.

"Rokan," I gasped, words tangling in my mind. "Please, I need?—"

I didn't even know what I was asking for, but he understood. He always seemed to understand. He shifted his angle slightly, and the new position sent a blaze of pleasure through me so intense that my vision whited out.

"There?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched my face. "Did you like that?"

I could only nod, my ability to form words stolen by the sensations coursing through me. He repeated the motion, each thrust driving me higher, closer to the edge of something monumental.

The room was filled with sounds—the wet slap of skin on skin, the ragged cadence of our breaths, the desperate cries that escaped my throat every time he hit that perfect spot.

The tension built within me, a coiled spring winding tighter and tighter with each deliberate movement of Rokan's hips. I clung to him, my fingers digging into his back, as if he were my anchor in the storm of pleasure that threatened to sweep me away.

"Let go, ," Rokan commanded, his voice a rough whisper in my ear. "I've got you."

The sound of my name on his lips pushed me over the edge. I shattered around him, waves of ecstasy washing over me. Rokan followed soon after with a guttural roar.

We lay tangled together, both panting. I traced idle patterns on his chest, marveling at the coolness of his skin. What now? I wondered. Where did we go from here?

Rokan lifted his head, golden eyes meeting mine. Maybe, just maybe, there was a glimpse of something vulnerable in their depths. But then his walls slammed back into place.

"We should get some food," he said gruffly, rolling off me. "Long day tomorrow."

I nodded, trying to ignore the ache in my chest. One step forward, two steps back. But I'd seen a crack in his armor. And that gave me hope.

Rokan rolled off the bed and strode to the communication panel near the door. His muscular form moved with a predatory grace that did bad, dangerous things to me.

I pulled the sheet up to cover myself. My brain was not my friend when this man was around.

"What are you ordering?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.

He glanced back at me. "You'll see."

A few moments later, he returned to the bed, settling beside me with his back against the headboard.

"Should be here soon," he said.

I nodded, unsure what to say. I wanted to touch him, to trace the swirling markings that mesmerized me. But I held back, afraid of breaking whatever fragile connection we'd forged.

A chime at the door interrupted my thoughts. Rokan rose to answer it, returning with a large covered tray. The rich aroma of spices and roasted meat filled the room, making my mouth water.

He set the tray on the bed between us and removed the cover. My eyes widened at the array of dishes - some familiar, others completely alien.

"I wasn't sure what you'd like," Rokan said, his voice gruff. "So I ordered a variety."

I smiled, touched by the unexpected thoughtfulness. "It all looks amazing."

We began to eat, sampling the different dishes. There was a tender, spiced meat that melted on my tongue, accompanied by a tangy sauce that made my taste buds sing. Crisp vegetables provided a refreshing contrast. I couldn't identify half of what I was eating, but every bite was a new adventure.

As we ate, I noticed Rokan watching me intently.

"What?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

He tilted his head to the side. "Nothing. You just... eat with such enthusiasm."

I laughed. "Well, it's been a while since I've had a real meal. Gorin wasn't exactly known for his culinary skills."

Rokan's expression darkened at the mention of my owner. "Did he starve you?"

"Not exactly," I said, picking at a piece of bread. "But the food was barely edible most days. This is like a feast in comparison."

Rokan grunted, his jaw clenching. I could see the anger simmering beneath the surface. It surprised me - why should he care how Gorin had treated me?

"Well," he said after a moment, "eat as much as you want. There's plenty."

I stole tiny glances at Rokan, admiring the carved cheekbones, the way his muscles moved as he reached for different dishes. He caught me looking once and held my gaze, his golden eyes intense. Heat flooded my cheeks and I quickly looked away.

"So," I said, desperate to break the tension, "tell me about yourself. Where are you from originally?"

Rokan raised an eyebrow. "Why do you want to know?"

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just curious. We've been through a lot together, but I still don't know much about you."

He was quiet, eyes focused on something I couldn't see, and I thought he might not answer. But then he spoke, his voice low.

"I was born on the Zar'nak colony. My father was a high-ranking military officer, my mother a scientist." He paused, his expression distant. "I had a normal childhood, I suppose. For a Vinduthi."

"What was that like?" I asked, genuinely curious.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Rigorous training from a young age. Combat skills, tactical analysis, physical conditioning."

I nodded, fascinated by this glimpse into his past. "And your family? Do you have any siblings?"

His expression shuttered. "I had a younger sister."

The past tense hung heavy in the air between us.

So many questions swirled around my tongue, but the pain in his eyes stopped me.

"I'm sorry," I said softly.

Rokan shrugged, his walls slamming back into place. "It was a long time ago."

We lapsed into silence again, the weight of unspoken grief settling over us. I searched for something to say, anything to bring back the connection we'd been building.

I realized how close we'd moved towards each other during our conversation. Our shoulders were almost touching, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body. A surge of adrenaline shot through me, hyperaware of his proximity.

Rokan cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "We should get some sleep. Long day tomorrow."

Reality came crashing back. Tomorrow. When he would turn me over to Gorin and collect his bounty. The warmth I'd been feeling evaporated, replaced by a cold dread in the pit of my stomach.

"Right," I said, forcing a smile. "Sleep."

Rokan gathered the remains of our meal and set the tray outside the door. I watched him move around the room, my chest tight with conflicting emotions. Some traitorous part of my mind wanted to beg him not to go through with it, to run away with me instead. But I knew it was pointless. He had a job to do.

As he settled into bed beside me, I turned on my side, facing away from him. I didn't want him to see the tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

"Goodnight, ," Rokan said softly.

Darkness tugged at my mind, dragging me under. Rokan's warmth beside me, our meal's lingering aroma, and the day's emotional toll conspired to pull me into oblivion. I clung to consciousness, savoring these final quiet moments before tomorrow changed everything.

My body betrayed me. Limbs turned to lead, thoughts scattered like leaves. I floated in that hazy realm between waking and dreaming. Fleeting images danced through my mind - the endless Crimson Sands, Rokan's eyes piercing the shadows, Gorin's icy collar biting my throat.

Just as sleep claimed me, a slight shift jolted me back. The bed dipped, Rokan's heat vanishing. My eyes cracked open, struggling to focus in the dim room.

Rokan loomed by the bed, his muscular form a dark silhouette against the faint window glow. He moved like a predator, silent and fluid, as he crossed the room.

And then he was gone.