Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

AILEEN

T he comms pad, state of the art, just as Bridget promised me, rings and rings and rings.

There's no answer.

"You're sure that's the contact information the Starlight Lottery woman gave you?" Brekker asks, his brow furrowed in worry.

"I'm sure," I tell him. "I checked it five times." I frown at the code on the screen. "Do you recognize the outbound signal? I'm not a pro at this by any means, but I know most of the major codes for civilizations and planets around the station I grew up in."

"I don't recognize it," he agrees.

That just makes me feel worse.

I slump in the chair, and Brekker kneels next to me, frowning as he taps several entries into the comms pad.

"It's not one I'm familiar with, but that doesn't mean much, since I deal mostly with on-planet issues." He rubs a hand over my back, the silk rasping at his touch. "She's going to be okay. We will find her. The Starlight Lottery wouldn't have let anything bad happen to her, right?"

I nod, taking heart in his observations. "I don't think they would. They had stipulations in our contract—" I bite my lip, my gaze heating as I slowly look up at him, remembering.

Remembering that he wanted to discuss an even more in-depth contract.

For sex.

With him.

My focus goes totally to Brekker.

"What did you want to put in our contract?" I ask softly, regarding him with a tilted head. "The one you were talking about?—"

He scoops me up with a hoarse laugh, and I squeal as he holds me to his chest.

His lips brush against the tip of my nose. It's sweet and gentle, and it melts me.

"We don't need a contract. I'm going to let you lead me where you want to go, and if it takes the rest of our lives to fulfill all my fantasies with you, then it will have been time well spent."

"Oh," I say on an exhalation, my eyes wide. "What if I don't want it to take the rest of our lives?"

"Fuck," he snarls, and with that, the room blurs by, a door flying open as he runs.

"That was fast," I say, then laugh as he drops me onto a silken coverlet, the plush bed underneath bouncing with my weight.

"We can go as fast or as slow as you want, Aileen. You tell me what you want." His dark eyes devour me.

A girl could get used to this kind of thing.

"Kiss me," I whisper, and that's all I have to say to make his lips cover mine.

The sharp edges of his fangs graze over my mouth, and I moan at the sensation. His hands are everywhere, leaving heat trailing in their wake, but not enough.

I didn't even know what I was missing, not really.

He pulls away from me, and I'm vindicated to see he's breathing as hard as I am, his pupils huge and black.

"What do you know about werewolves?" he asks, propping himself up on one arm beside me. The bed's soft enough that I roll toward his heavier body.

I don't mind, though. His hard, muscled chest feels scrumptious where I'm squished against him, and the nerves that troubled me the last few days on the Starlight Hub have completely fled in his presence.

"I know I like you," I tell him. My sincerity makes me feel foolish, until a smile breaks across his face. "It's silly, right?" I ask, frowning up at his handsome face.

"No—"

"I mean, we just met, and I already…" I swallow past the lump in my throat. "I already like you. A lot."

"We are husband and wife. It's not silly. It is right."

I snort. "That's a very arrogant assumption."

"If it's true, why is it arrogant?" He peppers kisses across the apples of my cheeks, the bridge of my nose, his fingers tickling along my ribs and making me squeal with laughter.

"Do you believe in fate?" he asks, his fingers stilling along my skin, his hands braced around me, one on my waist, the other cupping my head with familiar tenderness.

"Fate?" I repeat, my lips twisting to the side. I let my gaze slide away from his, considering his words.

This room, like the rest in this lodge, lands somewhere at the intersection of sumptuous and elegant, lived-in and ostentatious. It's gorgeous and rich-looking without being overwhelming.

The same wood carvings etch across every door and doorway, full of strange otherworldly creatures caught between man and beast.

"The Wulfric believe in fate. Very much so. We believe that the doors of every room, of every house, have the potential to change our fate and that walking through them is an act of trust in the forces that guide the universe."

I consider his words.

"We trust fate to guide us through the change between forms, in and out of our skins. Change is part of the Wulfric experience. It's essential, and if it weren't for our belief in fate, in the guiding hand of some greater… force, then we would be reduced to animals."

"You have to believe there is a reason." I sum up. A pang goes through me. "Does it hurt?"

"The change?" he asks, not pretending to not understand what I'm asking.

"Is that rude to ask? I don't know." I cringe, my nose wrinkling at the idea that I've just fucked up and crossed some line I didn't even know existed.

Note to self: don't ask werewolves about what it feels like to shift.

"It hurts," he says quickly. His chest expands as he inhales deeply, apparently contemplating the question. "It helps to hang on to the idea that there is a reason for it. It helps to think there is something greater out there, something that is causing it to happen. Not just that it's biological or chemical or whatever other reason they throw out there for it."

"So you believe in… like a god?" I ask, too curious to stem the flood of my questions. "You can tell me to shut up if this is too much. I'm not religious. I know lots of the other species on my station were, but that was never my thing."

"Not exactly." He shifts, rolling me on top of him.

I huff a laugh, sitting upright so I can still see his face.

"Fate. Fate, I believe in. That there is a force beyond our knowing, steering us for its own purposes. Maybe it's foolish to think that." His big hand reaches up, tucking an errant curl behind my ear. It lingers there, on the side of my jaw, then traces over my collarbone.

I suck in a breath as he continues the downward stroke, running his fingers over the globe of my breast.

He stills, and I see it then—the preternatural way his eyes track all my slight movements, the way he seems to barely breathe while he watches me. Predator and prey.

It's easy to forget he's not human.

We might be anatomically similar, might be sexually compatible, but he's an alien.

And we're definitely not anatomically similar when he's in… beast mode.

"Can we have sex?" I blurt the question out, and from the way he blinks up at me, I'm not the only one who's surprised at the question.

In an instant, so fast I wouldn't have thought it possible if I hadn't experienced it, he has me flat on my back.

"I meant… are we, uh, do our parts match up?" My voice hits a higher pitch than it has since Bridget scared me once in the middle of the night.

One of my legs is hooked around his hip, leaving me wide open, my thin dress hiked up to my upper thigh.

He grinds against me, and I moan, my eyes widening in surprise.

"Show me," I whisper. "I want to see it."

I find the top of his pants, and I fumble with them for a long moment until he lets out a laugh, helping my clumsy hands by taking them off.

His cock is hard, a bead of liquid pearling at the tip.

I reach for it, curious, and wrap a hand around it.

When Brekker makes a guttural noise, I freeze. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you? I don't know how to?—"

He grabs my hand around his, clamping it around his cock, leaning up to kiss me. Our mouths clash, and I can't hold back a moan of excitement as he works my hand over him.

"Everything you do feels good," he says, leaning back, his eyes focused fully on me. "Look at it. Touch it. Taste it."

"Taste it," I repeat, and suddenly, that's exactly what I want to do. Uncertain but excited, I drop my head, licking the small slit at the tip of his dick. It tastes salty and musky and not bad, really. I make a sound of surprise as he groans.

A heavy hand rests at the crown of my head, his claws gently scratching against my scalp.

Oh, he likes that.

It makes me feel powerful, to have this huge beast of a man all tight and hard beneath me, clearly wanting more but waiting, patient, for me to initiate.

I marvel at it, licking around the head of his cock as he jerks.

He meant what he said—he really is letting me lead.

I never would have thought this was how my day was going to end up—married to the werewolf alien, bitten, fingered to the best orgasm of my life in the transport, and now happily sucking his dick.

Ooh, sucking it! Yep. That's what I should do. I'm pretty sure I heard that men like that.

I test out my theory, wrapping my lips as best I can around the thick length of him. It's strangely smooth, despite the thick tuft of fur at the base of his hips.

"Fucking hells, Aileen. I could come with you just like that. Never seen anything so fucking perfect as you with my cock in your mouth."

Surprised, I glance up at him. Sure enough, he's staring at me wide-eyed, worshipful.

I guess I like being watched. What a moment of discovery for us all.

I suck him deeper, gratified and amused as he groans, his claws scraping my scalp, his hips bucking gently.

"I want to taste you. Let me fucking taste you," he growls.

Nah. I'm not about to relinquish control. I'm having way too much fun. I run my fingernails down his fat cock, lapping at the pearly precum on the tip, absolutely loving how he looks like he's about to fall to pieces at the lightest lick of my tongue.

Heh.

"Sit on my face."

That gets my attention. "What?" I ask, frowning.

His cock bobs, as if it's straining to get back in my mouth. I grin at it, giving it a long lick. I like it, I decide.

"I want to taste your sweet cunt. I want you to milk my fucking tongue with that pussy, and I want you to suck my cock while you cum all over my face."

"Oh." I blink. "How does that work?" I rub a hand over his cock again, and he hisses like it hurts.

"Do you trust me?"

I consider it, then smile. "Yes."

He doesn't waste a second hooking his hands under my arms and tugging me up to his face to kiss me. I love it. I love the way we fit together, the way he's so much bigger than me. It makes me feel protected.

Plus, he's freaking gorgeous.

I break away from his mouth as a thought occurs to me. "Can you take your shirt off?"

"Only if you take your dress off." He gives me a lopsided grin, the challenge clear.

Without a second thought, I tug the expensive silk over my head… only to manage to tangle my arms in it.

"Help," I squeak, bouncing a little.

His laugh rings out, and then his hot mouth closes over the peak of my nipple.

"Oh, oh ," I manage.

"I like these," he says, then repeats it on the other breast. I arch into his hands, my arms tangled overhead in red silk. "Does that feel good?"

His eyes lift to mine, and I startle slightly at the glowing orange that meets my gaze.

Pain and pleasure mix as he tugs at the tip of one nipple. I gasp, and wet slicks the juncture of my thighs.

"That's it." He all but purrs, satisfaction lighting his still-glowing eyes. "You do like that."

All I can manage is a moan as he laves each nipple in turn, then blows cold across them. My entire body turns molten under his ministrations.

I finally manage to unwrap myself from my dress, and then I'm clawing at the hem of his shirt as though I might be the one turning feral at any second.

When he's finally, blessedly naked, it's all I can do to keep breathing.

My fingers swipe over the web of white lines across the thick muscles on his stomach, following the scars to his chest. He shudders at my touch.

"So many scars."

"And each one a story for another time." His eyes are hooded, and the lust I see reflected in them makes me eager to see what happens next. When he pulls my hips, dragging my pussy across his chest, I follow with a soft laugh, half crawling to where he wants me.

My laugh turns to a shocked moan as he rearranges me so I'm facing his feet. The first lick of his tongue on my sex blows my mind.

I whuff in surprise, and he palms my shoulders, gently pressing me down.

There's no way I can reach his cock—he's too tall, and I'm going to lose my mind with what he's doing to me. Besides, I don't trust myself to do anything but hang on for dear life.

Still, I wrap one hand around his pulsing cock, determined to please him as much he's pleasing me.

I'm rewarded by a growl that vibrates against my raw nerve endings, and he redoubles his efforts, his wet, rasping tongue exploring every last inch of me.

When he palms my ass, then slips a finger deep inside me, finding that spot I was sure was a myth,I come hard, white exploding across my vision as I scream his name.