Chapter 6

Iam impossibly turned on. Like, holy shit? I didn’t realize I had a power kink until right now. But watching Lyko force the entire Roth priesthood to turn around with a show of absolute, well, power? Turns out I am very much into that.

Huh.

Heat shimmers and dances off his velvety gray skin, the tattoo-like marks all over his torso shifting.

I might be into that, too.

I’ve never seen anything like him, even as the flames die, but his expression remains terrible, his mouth a grim line.

It hits me then, another realization that rocks me to my core.

He thinks I don’t want this. He truly believes that I’m the shy, innocent, mousey thing I’ve pretended to be for months now.

He thinks he’s taking advantage of me.

For once, I don’t relish the outcome of my machinations and manipulations. The shame written all over his face is as clear as his own arousal, his dick tenting his pants. I should be pleased that all the plans I’ve put into place are working out even better than I imagined. I could use this—his clear shame.

But.

But guilt swims through me instead. He didn’t personally invade Earth. He didn’t make the order. He wasn’t there.

And he isn’t Nydo. He isn’t some asshole who treats everyone like we live to cater to his every whim.

No, this is a male who looks at me like he wants to eat me alive and hates himself for having that urge. It makes me feel… sad.

Before this moment, if someone had asked me if I was into public sex, I would have laughed in their face. Except, now, the reality of that looms before me. This strange, otherworldly place and the bizarre cadre of priests now with their backs to us, the male I’m marrying staring at me like I’m every wish he’s ever made?—

I’m into it. I’m really, weirdly, into it.

Heat that has nothing to do with the proximity of the magma or whateverthefuck they were talking about earlier slides across my skin, my core aching with surprising need.

I know what I should do.

For fucking once in my life, I do exactly what I want to do instead.

I back up, sitting on top of the dais, my own body on fire—with need. I hold my hand out, unable to tear my gaze from him, the way he’s looking at my body, my face, like I’m what he worships most.

My throat goes dry, and I crook a finger at him, spreading my legs wide.

He steps forward, his nostrils flaring.

I forgot that most alien species have a preternaturally good sense of smell. Much better than ours. From the way his eyes dilate, the way he stalks gracefully toward me, I know he is scenting just how aroused I am.

It should not make me even more turned on.

I squirm slightly. I’m finding out all kinds of uncomfortable truths about myself today.

“Piper.” Lyko stops right as he reaches the dais, his dick huge and hard under the loose fabric of his pants. My name is a moan on his lips, and I can’t help the sigh of anticipation that comes out of my own mouth. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you’re not just doing this?—”

“I want this,” I interrupt, and I do. I have no qualms about what we’re about to do.

I’ve never been shy or squeamish about sex, but it’s been a hell of a long time since I’ve had any besides with my own hand. I move one foot farther away, lifting my naked hips slightly, trying to prove it.

He doesn’t move.

“Do you?” If he’s going to back out of this now, I have major problems. Earth has major problems. But more than that, if he backs out of this now, I’m going to have a massive case of lady blue bits, because damn, I want him. I don’t know if there was something in that shimmering lotion they told me to rub myself with, but I am the textbook definition of hot and bothered.

He doesn’t answer. His tongue darts out, and he licks his lips.

“Lyko.” I hold a hand out. “I want this if you want this.”

A muscle ticks in his forehead.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

It’s so soft I have to strain to hear him.

It’s so sweet that it catches me completely off guard, my heart squeezing a little.

“Then get me ready for you,” I say boldly, abandoning the usual Piper pretenses I’ve put in place around him for so long. Maybe it’s foolish and romantic of me, but right now, in this moment, I don’t want to pretend.

I want him, and he wants me, and maybe it should just be as easy as that. I can worry about everything else later. This will probably be the only wedding I ever get, and I want this moment for myself.

For us.

He’s still staring at me, his jaw twitching.

I sigh, sliding a hand down my stomach, leaning back on one elbow, watching his reaction. My fingers dip between my legs, and a muscle stands out on his neck, his hands fisting at his sides.

“I won’t be able to control myself if you do that?—”

I moan, my eyes fluttering as my fingertips circle my clit.

“Then don’t,” I tell him. “Then don’t control yourself. I can take it.”

“Fuck,” he snarls, and with that, he’s on me, his mouth pressed against mine, his skin hot and incredibly soft over his thickly muscled body.

His tongue slides against my lips, and I open my mouth. Smoke and vanilla—that’s what he tastes of, like some kind of forbidden, decadent dessert.

One big hand brackets my waist, and the other clamps around my wrist, keeping me from touching myself again.

Damn, I like that. I shudder as he pulls away, his dark gaze darting between my eyes, like he can’t quite believe what’s happening.

That makes two of us, because holy shit, this… this is chemistry. Pure, raw, and electric. I get it now, the whole chemistry thing, that is, in a way I never did before.

Every graze of his hand against my bare skin sends a shiver of pleasure and anticipation through me, his mouth pressing delicate kiss after delicate kiss against mine, like he’s learning me.

And I want more. I want more, and I’ve never been afraid to take it.

One of the priests shift behind us, and my gaze falters as I glance at where they’re standing.

“Eyes on me, my queen,” he says gruffly, pressing one hand against my cheek. “Eyes on me.”

Then he slides his hand between my legs, and I’m fucking lost.

“So wet already. I heard human females were different, but gods, this is… you are everything.”

I’m panting. Somehow my hands have managed to tangle around his neck, and I’m holding on as tight as I can, refusing to let him go.

His fingers slick through my pussy. “Show me where, show me where you?—”

I cry out as he hits my clit, and satisfaction kicks his mouth up into a feral, hungry grin.

“There it is.” He runs his fingers over it again, and I grind up onto his hand, needing more, squeezing my eyes shut. “Look at me, my queen. Eyes on me.”

I force myself to open my eyes, and what I see on his face floors me. He’s focused solely on me, on finding the spot that will bring me pleasure, and yet I can feel his excitement where his cock presses hard against my thigh. Wet heat pools against my leg, and I buck my hips again when I realize it’s precum.

“Good fucking female,” he says hoarsely. “You want me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I moan, and it shocks me how true it is. I do want him.

“Tell me what you need, Piper.” He watches me writhe for a moment. Without warning, his mouth clamps over my nipple, and I hiss in surprised pleasure, my back arching as he rubs my clit.

“Circles,” I finally manage to get out, chasing his fingers. His tongue licks around my nipple where his teeth just nipped.

Then he does it. His soft fingers, slick from my wetness, make small, tantalizing circles around my clit.

My breath hitches, and he smiles up at me, a victorious look. “That’s it, isn’t it, pretty queen?”

I make a wordless noise of assent, and he circles slower still, my hips chasing his fingers.

“More,” I whisper, desperate, coming unwound. “I need more.”

“Then you’re going to take all of me, because I fucking need more, too,” he grits out.

Oh god.

Lyko pulls off his loose pants, and I sit up, taking him in. He’s beautiful, without a doubt. The definition of each muscle is something a human could only get if they lived at the gym and then maybe fasted for a few days. He’s unbelievably beautiful, the swirling symbols on his skin mesmerizing and ethereal.

But when my gaze drops to his cock, my jaw drops.

“Whoa,” I say. “That’s uh, I don’t know if that’s?—”

“You can take me,” he tells me, an even sharper edge to his voice.

I just stare at it. It’s weirdly pretty for a dick, especially a gray one, but like the rest of him, it’s lovely to look at. Can’t complain!

“I hunger for you,” he growls, one hand on my inner thigh, the other stroking up and down his shaft. Precum beads at the tip, and before I can react, he dips his head down, between my thighs, and sucks.

“Oh, oh my god, oh my god,” I say, my hands going to the knot of dark hair on his head.

His mouth is hot, and his tongue is heaven. I can’t get enough fast enough or hard enough?—

He sucks my clit, and everything goes dark as I come, arching off the table, chanting his name.

“That’s it, my queen. Good.” Lyko’s all but purring as he moves over me, his huge dick in his hand. “Now you are ready for me. Now everyone will hear you scream my name as I come inside you. There will be no doubt about who you belong to. You are mine.”

I don’t even know what I’m saying, but I’m nodding in agreement, my hands at his hips as his cock nudges at my entrance. It’s hot, physically hot, and for a long moment, as it strains at my opening, I wonder if it’s too big.

“You can take it, my queen, my Piper,” he tells me, a feral, unhinged light in his eyes. “Perfect, pretty Piper, with a perfect cunt I could feast on for days.”

I raise my hips, only barely aware of what we’re doing. Our audience has been forgotten in the face of the immense need coiling through my body. The need for more of Lyko, and to have him faster.

His cock fills me up, stretching me, and I whimper as I take each inch. Lyko mutters encouragement, telling me I’m beautiful, telling me I’m his, and every word of praise makes me wetter and wetter.

“I knew you were mine,” he says viciously.

I’m at a loss for words. It feels so fucking good, to have him inside me, the hard, thick length of him so deep. So right. I stare up at him, wide-eyed, a sheen of sweat making the gold shimmer dance even faster across my skin.

He leans down, that victorious, cruel cast to his face softening slightly as he presses a kiss against my brow, against my lips, the column of my neck. When his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin there, I jerk. But he pins me, one hand around my neck.

I can’t move. I can’t do anything but breathe.

Lyko is everywhere. He’s too much.

He bites me, hard enough to hurt, and I make a strangled sound of fear and wonder.

Because I like it.

I like all of it. A lot.

And suddenly, I’m not content to wait for him to set the pace. I’m not content at being pretend Pretty, Pretty Princess Piper.

He wants a queen, and he’ll fucking get one.

I smile up at him, the expression as sharp and unrestrained as his, because I can’t fake it anymore. I can’t be anything other than the queen he’s telling me I am.

His eyes widen at the change in my expression, at whatever he sees there.

I love it.

I hook my leg around his hips, sick of waiting for him to give me what my body craves, and I slam my hips up at the same time. A sloppy, wet sound echoes off the stone walls.

We moan in unison, and he bares his teeth at me, the marks on his skin swirling even faster. He growls, muttering something incoherent, and I pump my hips up again, demanding something he wants just as badly as I do.

More.

Faster.

Harder.

“Do you want to be in charge, my Piper, my queen?” he snarls, his fingers tightening around my throat. “That is not the Roth way.”

I just smile up at him. It feels completely unhinged. I feel, for the first time in years, like myself, unafraid and uncaring. Consequences be damned.

It feels right.

I wrap my other leg around him, trying to hook my ankles around his torso. But he’s too wide, too muscular for that. I dig my heels into his lower back, and he slams into me, an unholy sound of pleasure tearing out of me.

“Gods, you feel perfect. Your cunt feels perfect,” he says, picking up his pace.

I never thought I’d like someone saying something so filthy to me, but it turns out I like everything he’s doing. The wet sound of our bodies slamming into each other, the growl in his voice when he mutters encouragement, the way his eyes fix on me like he’s never seen anything like me before.

I love it. I feel more like myself than I have in years, more powerful, more real.

“Such a perfect female. So beautiful. Taking me so good,” he continues, and I writhe against him, pressing my heels into his muscled torso as hard as I can. “You fucking like that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I manage. Yes, yes, yes. “Please,” I add, so close again.

Everything fades away the longer he pounds into me. The heat of the cavern is a caress against my fevered skin, the cave itself disappearing as I stare up at Lyko’s ferocious expression, losing myself to the building sensation between my legs.

His hand is still around my throat, but he snakes the other down between our bodies, pausing slightly to find my clit with the pad of his finger.

I go limp, breathing impossibly hard, as he slowly, carefully teases it.

When he slams into me, his finger still on my clit, still rubbing it, tapping it, stars explode across my field of vision.

I come with a scream, my fingers scrabbling along his shoulders.

“Mine,” he says. “This is mine. You belong to me, Piper.” He leans down, still hammering into me, then bites my shoulder, hard.

Stiffening, he jerks once, then twice, and I know he’s coming inside me.

I whimper, because it’s fire inside me, too much, too hot.

“Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you’re my queen.” His eyes glow like embers as he stares down at me, and I swallow hard, limp and wrung out with pleasure.

“Yours,” I agree, too spent to think too hard about what I’m saying.

“Forever,” he says, nipping at that same spot on my neck. “And now you wear my mate marks. Now no one can doubt us.”

Doubt snakes up my spine, though, leaving me cold despite the heat. Mate marks. How did I forget about the swirling marks I’d have? How did I forget my goals in the face of a few orgasms?

I swallow hard, trying to play it cool.

His body stays over mine, and I meet his gaze as he lowers himself. The hand around my throat moves as he cradles my head, tugging me into his huge, warm body.

“Leave us,” he snarls, and I freeze, confused at what he means—until the sounds of robes swishing and feet on stone stairs echo around us.

I’d forgotten the priests were here. My chest tightens, my heart squeezing, as the enormity of what’s just happened slaps me across the face.

I let him see me. The real me.

Not the pleasant, compliant Piper mask I’ve worn for so long, trying to pull the strings behind the scenes, but the real me.

It scares the shit out of me.