Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

AILEEN

I 've never seen anything like this place.

Not in real life, at least. Vids don't do this kind of thing justice, not really.

The planet seems endless—the sky so completely different from anything I ever imagined on my station. Instead of the press of black space and overhead tiles and lights, there's blue. Blue and lavender sky, tufts of creamy clouds wisping on the breeze.

It's strange.

I swallow hard, my mouth dry, watching the scenery outside the transport window.

Then there are the trees. Trees not caged or planned or approximated in hologram or in some museum exhibit but wild, huge, and everywhere. Big enough to blot out the sky once we're fully out of the Clan Claw city.

Is there a reverse of claustrophobia? All that open sky, the vast expanse of forest and trees, it's so much at once that it feels completely overwhelming.

And that's not even taking into account the massive man sitting across from me in the transport.

Each time I glance up at my new husband, he's studiously looking elsewhere.

The moment I turn back toward the window, though, I can feel him looking at me. The heated weight of it is a brand on my skin, the air between us tense and electric.

I don't know much about this man, but there is no denying we have something. What it is, exactly, I don't understand.

Pheromones, according to his sister.

If it's just biology, I can understand that, I guess.

"Tell me about where you worked before…"

He falls silent, and I slowly swing my attention back to him.

"Before I married you?" I finish the statement for him, raising an eyebrow. "Why dance around it?"

"You smell uncomfortable."

I blink. "Smell?"

"Yes."

"Right. So. Ah, that's not a human thing to say."

He just stares at me. "I'm not a human. You smell worried."

I sigh in exasperation. "I am worried." I cross my arms across my chest and lean farther into the plushily upholstered seat. "Everything about this world is brand new to me. I've never lived anywhere but decrepit old ships and even more decrepit space stations. I've definitely never been married or even—" I stop myself from finishing that thought.

Or even liked someone.

My cheeks burn, though, and his nostrils flare slightly.

"How much, exactly, can you tell by the way I smell?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

"You wear every thought on your face," he says seriously. "It makes matching up what I'm scenting with the truth very easy."

A blush heats my face, and I bite my lip, unable to deny what he's said. Instead of a rebuttal, a small snort of amusement comes out.

"You're nervous," he says easily.

"Aren't you?" I fire back. "You just married a stranger, but you don't seem worried at all by that."

Silence stretches between us, the low rumble of the transport's engine louder in the thick tension.

"My sister hand-picked you. My sister, who knows me better than anyone, thought you were the best possible match for me." His voice drops, low and soothing, honey sweet. "When I saw your image, I was captivated. When you stepped off the ship and I caught your scent, I was entrapped." He leans back suddenly, but his gaze is just as intense as before.

My mouth goes dry. "Things don't work like that for my species."

"You asked what I could tell by scent." His long, thick fingers drum against his seat. "I can tell you're attracted to me. I can scent your interest."

If I thought I was blushing before, it has nothing on the ridiculous heat wave traveling up from my chest now. I wonder if he can see steam rolling off me.

"Right," I say, trying for agreeable and sounding like a mouse instead.

His gaze swivels to the dense forest whizzing by outside and then to the clock display in the shuttle, showing Wulfric time.

My heart beats a quick hammer against my chest.

"We should work out the details now."

"Details?" I wet my lips with my tongue, the word a question between us, even though I'm fully aware of what he's saying.

The details of the new contract between us.

He knows I know. I can tell by the slight upward tug of his lips. "I don't want to move too fast. Your scent tells me you're ready for me." The words are a dark caress against my skin. "But I can see your nervousness on your face."

He tilts his head, his odd hairstyle tipping with him.

I don't know what to say. This is brand new territory for me.

"I need to know exactly what you are willing to do and what is a hard no," he says.

My pulse increases, and I can't deny the feeling of excitement going through me.

"I've modified the clan contract to include several clauses that cover any possibilities, and I'd like everything to be as spelled out as possible." He leans closer, and his pulse thrums at the base of his throat.

It's not as fast as mine—not nearly—but it's a relief to know I'm not the only one affected by our proximity, by the fact that we're alone in this small space together.

"Okay," I say slowly, waiting for him to pass me the comms pad.

He doesn't, though.

No, he clears his throat.

My eyes widen at the realization that he's going to read it out loud to me.

"Willing sexual acts to include: oral sex, penetrative vaginal sex, anal sex?—"

Shocked, I wheeze slightly, my insides molten and my core clenching around nothing. "I don't know about anal sex," I start, absolutely interested in it and scared of the idea all at once.

"I can strike it?—"

"I've never had—" I clear my throat again, realizing I've interrupted him and suddenly worried that's going to piss him off. I don't want to piss my new alpha werewolf husband off.

"Anal sex?"

"Sex at all," I whisper.

He goes still, preternaturally so, eyes ablaze and pupils blown.

I fidget in my seat, feeling strangely like I've let him down. Like he won't want me at all now, now that he knows I'm completely inexperienced.

I don't want him to send me back. I don't want to go back to my old space station.

"I'm willing to try," I blurt out in a rush of emotion, my chest tight and throat thick with worry. "I don't know what I like, though, because I grew up on a space station with barely any humans, and I wasn't interested in my roommates or the other alien species?—"

"You're untouched." It's his turn to interrupt, and the words are a low groan.

I'm going to spontaneously combust from the heat of embarrassment.

"Moon goddess help me." He drags a palm over his face, his claws extending, becoming sharper.

"I'm… I'm sorry," I whisper. I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling so fucking uncomfortable that I wouldn't mind swinging open the door of the transport shuttle and flinging myself into the forest.

Embarrassing as all hell.

"Please don't apologize, little human wolf." He unclicks the safety webbing, and before I can move, he's wedged between my legs. The tip of his tongue darts out, touching the fangs that seem even longer than before. "We can forget the contract."

"What do you mean?—"

He presses a finger to my lips. "I will not push you."

A small growl of discontent escapes my throat, surprising us both.

He quirks an eyebrow, waiting.

I shouldn't say anything. I should take the promised money and keep my mouth shut and let him play the gentlemen, but?—

"I want to have sex." The words slip out of me.

They hang between us like a neon sign I saw once in the station I grew up on, blaringly bright to the point of ultimate distraction.

There's no taking them back.

"I might not have been interested in the other aliens or the girls I lived with, but… they weren't you." I gulp, unsure of where I can look that won't embarrass me, which is stupid, because I am completely embarrassed. "They weren't you," I repeat, finally making eye contact again.

The smile that breaks across his face is genuinely sweet. My heart squeezes a little, and it has nothing at all to do with the fact that I'm ready to throw myself at this hot alien werewolf.

I like him.

I barely know him, and that seems utterly ridiculous.

But I like what I've seen so far.

"You are in charge, Aileen. However you want to move forward, I put it in your delicate hands."

It's hands, however, that have my full focus. They span the width of my thighs, one on either leg, heavy enough that I can feel the weight of what he's saying.

"I don't know how to be in charge," I admit. I bite my lower lip, and even like this, kneeling in front of me, he's tall enough we see eye to eye. His broad chest forces my knees farther apart as he scoots closer.

"Can I touch you?" he asks, his voice a hoarse rasp.

I don't answer.

He sits there, silent.

"I'm scared," I whisper back.

"Your face?" he says, his gaze never leaving mine, anchoring me. "Can I touch your face?"

I nod. That seems like a safe place.

His fingers trace across my cheekbones, both hands finally cupping my face, so tenderly that some more of that fear leaks away, replaced by curiosity and desire.

"Have you… touched yourself?" he asks.

I go hot all over. "I…"

My nose scrunches up, and he huffs a soft laugh. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and I jut my chin out defiantly.

"Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not," he says. "I just… it will be easier if I know that. It will help us both if you know how to pleasure yourself. If you do want me, like you say you do."

The hands on my face tighten, just enough for me to feel the bite of his claws, then fall away.

"Yes," I make myself say, finding the bravery that eluded me from the moment I was picked, hand-picked by his sister, for the Starlight Lottery. "I have."

"Show me," he says. Brekker leans forward, his claws swiping at the safety webbing compressing my body to the seat of the transport.

I gasp as it falls away into ribbons, caught between excitement and trepidation.

"What if we hit something?" I ask. "I have no idea what in the whole stupid Wulfric world we'd hit, but I've never been on planet like this?—"

"We won't hit anything. I've got you."

With that, he picks me up. All the breath leaves my body as he sits back down with me in his lap, a thick knee shoved between my legs. One arm wraps around my waist, the other clamped over my hand.

"Do you want to show me?" he growls. "It would please me to watch you make yourself come."

"Right now ?"

"I can scent how much you like the idea." His lips, his fangs, graze the soft skin of my neck, and I tremble all over. He's not lying. My pussy already aches at the mere thought of it. "But you're in charge, Aileen. We go as slow or as fast as you like."

I'm shaking. Not from fear, but from the greedy need that's growing inside me, ratcheting up at the way his breath gusts over the sensitive skin of my neck, the way his claws tickle the inside of my wrist.

"Are you too afraid to let me hear the noises you make when you come?" he asks.

That does it for me. The challenge, the inherent dare in his question.

I've never backed down from a dare.

Especially not one I wanted to take.

My breath hitches as I tug at the thigh-high slit of my silk skirt, pulling it up. It slides across my skin with a soft susurrus. Brekker growls in approval, a low rumble that sends electric awareness shooting through me.

The underwear they dressed me in before I left the Starlight hub is a mere wisp of black mesh, and his growl deepens as I hook my fingers through the fabric, tugging it over one leg, then the other.

Brekker's hand whips out, fisting around the black jumble of lace. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him tuck it into the pocket of his pants.

Why is that so damned hot?

I let out a little moan, trailing my fingertips along my inner thigh. He lets out a low hiss that tickles the back of my neck as I drape one leg over his big thigh.

"So sweet," he murmurs, his lips brushing my neck, his thick fingers digging into my thigh.

I take my time, but not because I'm anxious about letting him watch—no, it's the complete opposite. Touching myself in front of him feels deliciously naughty. Every sensation is exponentially better, every little noise he makes ratcheting the lust burning through me even higher.

I want to take my time because, even though he's holding my legs open, squeezing an arm around my waist, I feel utterly and completely in control.

This giant werewolf alien is wrapped around me, and I have him eating out of the palm of my hand.

A girl could get used to that kind of thing.

Each murmured word of approval from him winds me tighter, higher. When my fingertips finally brush the sensitive pearl of my clit, my head drops back, and I sag against him.

"So gorgeous, so perfect," he says. "Don't stop." The words ring with command, but I know better now.

He meant it when he said I was in charge, and I'm drunk on it—on this moment, on him.

"Touch me," I whisper, rubbing light circles on my clit, chasing the feeling. It's not enough.

I want him to do it. I want him to do what I say.

I want him to prove that he meant it when he said I was in charge.

There's a dull snapping noise, and a moment later, I realize he's bitten his claws off.

His touch is tender as he adds his fingers to where mine have already left me heavy and tight and swollen.

I gasp at the increased sensation. The pads of his fingers are so much rougher than mine, so much larger, and it feels so fucking good.

"I'm close," I whine. I reach one arm up, wrapping it around his neck as I press myself into him. His cock is hard as can be against the soft flesh of my ass, impossibly thick.

When he removes his hand from my hot pussy, I cry out in displeasure, only to look up to see him lick my glistening wetness from his fingers.

"Your cunt is mine," he says roughly, and in the next instant, his wet fingers are sliding inside me. My hips flex as I chase the building sensation. His thumb grazes my clit, over and over, as he slips a second finger inside me.

"Brekker, yes," I pant, whining and hardly recognizing my own voice.

"You're so fucking tight." His voice is harsh. "This is mine. You're going to take my knot so good. Squeeze my fingers, baby. Ride them."

I can't do anything but obey.

It's all I want, all I want is to feel good, to keep chasing my orgasm.

When he crooks them, finding some magic spot inside me, massaging my clit at the same time, stars explode through my vision in a white-hot torrent of pleasure.

I've never come so hard.

I didn't even know I could.

Orgasms have always been a silent, single-minded pursuit of pleasure. I'd get off and immediately roll over and go to sleep.

I didn't know it could be like that.

I'm completely limp. When Brekker pulls his fingers out of me with a sloppy noise, they're soaked, and all I can do is breathe through the pleasure still shuddering through me.

"Such a good little human wolf," he croons, and a small, silly smile turns the corners of lips up.

"That was…" I nuzzle into him, suddenly overcome with a strong surge of emotion. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, little wolfling. This is just the beginning of what we're going to do together."

The words are unexpectedly gentle, and when my eyelids finally flutter open, Brekker's watching me with a careful expression.

The ground transport slows, then comes to a stop.

"You've arrived at your destination," the automated voice announces.

The door slides open on its own, flooding the small compartment with dappled light. I blink at it, still unused to the reality of a planet with sunlight.

Even now, as it wanes, it's so much brighter and warmer than the sterile overheads I've only ever known from station living.

"Come," he tells me, and I stand awkwardly, adjusting the skirts of my dress. Before I can step out of the ground transport, he lifts me into his arms, carrying me easily into the woods.

I blink, my eyes still adjusting, and my jaw drops at the sight before me.

"Lodge?" I wheeze, and his laugh vibrates against my chest.

It's not a cabin, or whatever the hell I imagined, not even close.

It's a full-fledged castle, with thick stone walls and green fire burning in metal braziers beside the massive wooden door. My mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, but nothing comes out.

Between the world-rocking orgasm a minute ago and now the proof of the life of luxury I've landed in, I'm at a complete loss for words.

It's too good to be true.

Life's taught me that when things are going too well, I never have to wait long for the shoe to drop.