14. Skylar

14

Skylar

I wait until we're back in Tan's quarters to ask about the ghosts.

"Bone white?" Tan asks, sitting beside me on his sleeping furs. He brushes my hair from my forehead.

"Yeah. It seems to happen almost at random. Tylan said white scales are a sign of the dead. Like ghosts. But they don't act dead."

"Does it happen at random? Like, what color am I?"

That's a good question. None of the Asheraah I see regularly have bleached out on me. But aside from Tylan and Ano, his second in command, and the healers who tended me while I was ill, I haven't gotten to know many other Asheraah. "You're always gold," I say. "And Tylan and the healers don't change. I'm not sure about anyone else, though. Today, I saw two Asheraah with white scales. Tylan said one was a communication tech, and the other…" I take a breath. Tan's not going to like me accusing his officers of… well… looking dead. On the other hand, Tan looked like he was ready to rip Subcommander Quayl's throat out for looking at me the wrong way, so maybe he won't hate the thought of his subcommander looking dead that much. "Subcommander Quayl."

"Quayl. Did he always look like that to you?"

I shrug.

He was on the bridge when we brought you in. Did you see any white ones there?

I think back. It's hard to remember anything through the fog of terror I'd been feeling. I shrug again. "I don't remember seeing any white Asheraah before I hit my head."

"You should see the healers. Has Quayl done anything else suspicious?" Tan's lips curls, a low growl sounding in his chest. It's sexy and a little terrifying. "He did not touch you, did he?"

"No!" I'm not about to tell Tan about the weird shadow antennae when he's in this kind of mood. Next thing I know, he'll be gutting Quayl on the floor of the Starshadow's bridge. Then what will the ship think about me?

"Good. If he touches you, I will peel his hide away and feed him his own guts."

"Ugh, can we please not talk about eating other sentients?" I put a hand to my stomach.

Tan breathes in, and the muscles along his shoulders and arms relax. He lets out a low, rumbling laugh. "I apologize. I had no intention of frightening you."

"Good."

"It is best you do not mention this, though. We do not speak of ghosts, and nobody will appreciate it if you claim they or their fellow crew members are walking on both sides of the veil."

"It's probably just an effect of the head injury." A weird one, but I don't make a habit out of hitting my head so hard I see dead people, so what do I know? Maybe it's something in the food too. Asheraah food hasn't bothered me so far, but I can't be certain.

"Regardless," Tan says. "If you see anyone else with the color, you will tell me. In fact, if you see anything unusual, even if it seems unimportant, you will tell me."

I think again of the weird shadow antennae coming out of Quayl. Maybe I should tell Tan about that? But it was probably just my imagination running away with me.

Let me see what the healers have to say first.

"I have one regret," I say.

"Hmm?"

"That I've never gotten a chance to see you fly." I grin. "I mean, Tylan was so pretty, gliding through the air."

"Pretty?"

"Adorable. You'd be adorable too, I think."

"I am not adorable! "

"Oh?"

"I will show you adorable."

I raise an eyebrow. "Please. Show me."

Tan launches himself to his feet. The next thing I know, he's holding me cradled against him. He spreads his wings wide as he leaps upward. There's hardly room in here for him to do more than flap his wings once before we are near brushing the compartment's ceiling. And then he spreads his wings wide, and we glide over the sleeping furs and his gold eyes and the wicked smile on his face capture my gaze.

We're only in the air for maybe thirty seconds, but it feels like magic. Flying differs from Zero-G. I feel the strength and power of him in how he holds me to his chest as the ripple of his muscles transfer the energy needed to lift his mass into the air.

"Oh Tan," I gasp as he guides us with barely a wobble to the sleeping furs. We land in a tumble of limbs and wings and, though his scales tickle, it's an absolute pleasure to run my hands and legs over him as we fall into each other's arms .

"Now, how was that?" Tan asks, the question punctuated with a quick thrust of his hips.

"Utterly adorable."

He lets out a bark of a laugh and presses his head to mine, his tongue tickling my lips until they part, and I welcome him into a deeper kiss.

I want him, right now. When we part for breath, I say, "I can make you fly, too." I run my fingers over the line of his hips, down, and stroke the hard ridge of his cock beneath his skinsuit.

Tan gasps and pulls back, his eyes half shut, his ear frills twitching. His wings flare, then settle. "Can you?" he breathes.

"Oh yes," I assure him, swiping my fingers over the seam of the suit. With a shrug of his shoulders, it falls away, revealing his scales, his ridges, and the hard muscle of his chest and abdomen.

I climb over him, teasing him with a kiss, and then, with him pinned beneath me, I straddle his hips, rubbing myself against the hard ridge of his cock.

The friction sends sparks of heat through me, and Tan groans, his hands rising to cup my breasts. My skinsuit is still sealed, and I like the power it gives me clothed, him nude and hard for me. Arousal aches between my thighs, and I grind my hips down, letting his ridges rub against my sex, the suit's texture increasing the sensation.

"Sky," Tan hisses.

"Yes?" I raise an eyebrow.

He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it as I tease him.

I move my hands to his pectoral muscles. They are hard under my palms, and beneath his scales, I feel the thrum of his twin heartbeats and the echo of his tension. His hips are making tiny thrusts, the tip of his cock wet. The ache inside me is rising, becoming need, and soon, I'm going to want out of this skinsuit. But not yet. I promised I'd make him fly, and I'm the type of girl who keeps her promises.

I kiss his mouth first, pressing my body against his. Tan's hands grip my hips, and he attempts to flip us, but I push down against him. "Not yet," I say, and we rock together. His groan is needy.

My lips travel along his jawline and down his neck, my hands following the contours of his muscular body to his chest. I lick the ridges along his collarbones, and Tan arches into me, a groan rising in his throat.

His nipples are small, hard, and a rich shade of almost copper, and when I take one into my mouth, he hisses, his hands flexing against me.

Fex, I want to touch myself, to relieve this growing ache, but I want him at my mercy more. I tease at his nipples until he is saying my name, and then I kiss downward, toward that large, mouthwatering cock. I've had him inside me but never tasted him. Not like this.

The length is thick. The head is smooth and, despite its shape, not much larger than that of a human's. It has ridges, not unlike the rest of his body. Up close, I can see their fine detail. His hips jerk, and I lick up the underside.

Tan sucks in a breath. "Skylar—"

"I said I was going to make you fly," I say, and with a grin, I take him in my mouth. The tip is larger than the rest, and when he hits the back of my throat, it takes a lot of willpower to relax .

I've only ever done this twice before and neither was Tan's size or shape.

I grip the base with my fist and start a slow rhythm. Tan's wings tremble. His whole body trembles as he groans, pushing up into my mouth in time with the strokes.

"This is a dream," he whispers. "You are a dream."

I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock and suck him all the way in until the tip brushes the back of my throat again, then I pull back, letting him sink free. He tastes like salt and spice and his natural musk. I play with him, kissing, sucking, using my tongue, and he's begging me for more, and for release, and when I swallow him back to the base, and start a steady, hard rhythm, his hands tighten against my scalp.

He's close, I can sense it. I suck harder, taking him in as deep as I can.

"Skylar—I'm going to—" His breath is a series of soft hisses, and his body is shaking, his hips working. "Stars, Sky!"

He comes in a hot gush. I keep pumping, drinking him until he stops shuddering and his grip loosens against my scalp.

His hands slide away, and he pulls himself back, breathing hard.

I slide off him, grinning.

"I hope that was close enough to flying," I tease. And he pulls me down, crushing me to his chest and nuzzling my hair.

"Stars, Skylar," he whispers. "I—" And then his hands are at the seam of my skinsuit, opening it, sliding the suit away, his fingers exploring me. He rolls us both until he is above me and then his mouth is on mine, his fingers pressing and teasing.

He parts my legs and slips a finger inside. That touch sends ripples of pleasure through me. My sex is slick, and he's pressing and curling that finger, and my whole body feels like an instrument he's playing. He presses another finger inside, and my breath catches. He thrusts slowly, his thumb rubbing at my clit, and my head falls back, my eyes squeezing shut.

I feel his breath against my lips, and then he's kissing me. He's biting at my lower lip, his tongue swiping over the marks, and it's a delicious pleasure.

"Tan," I gasp. "More, please."

He kisses my jawline, then my throat. And while his fingers thrust, his tongue runs along my collarbone and then up to my ear. "You can never hide from me," he whispers, and then he licks a slow circle on the outer edge of my ear.

The shiver starts at the point where his tongue meets skin, and it ripples through me until the intensity of it breaks, and the pleasure rises like a wave. And then I'm coming, shuddering against his hand and the press of his fingers.

Afterwards, when we lie tangled in each other, and he's stroking my hair, my limbs loose and warm, I snuggle against his chest, and say, "That was almost better than flying."

"Almost?"

"I'll need to test it. Both. We'll have to do it again."

"It will be my pleasure."

I yawn and try to burrow closer. " We'll do it later," I say, because I don't think I can stay awake much longer. "When I don't feel so good."

"Sleep," Tan says, pulling the blankets over us. "I will be here."

"Promise?"

"Always," he says.

I believe him, and when I close my eyes, the world has a bright gold tint, and it's not from the light but the color of Tan's scales filling my world.