Chapter 13

Evie

If I thought I’d be able to maintain even a shred of control, I was a fool. Once I’d tantalized Aramon with that offer, all bets were off. He didn’t even give me a chance to undress but set me on my feet inside the shower and turned on the tap. I couldn’t even get the world to stop spinning from moving so fast when water splashed on my head—cool but rapidly warming. My dress got stuck to my skin and turned nearly transparent. Aramon was caught in that same spray, droplets rolling down his shoulders, along his throat, and lovingly finding the path of least resistance between his pecs and abs.

“Blazing suns, that’s so fucking pretty,” he said, his words roughly translated, his tone husky and low. “Look at your nipples, pretty woman. Look at that! That’s perfection.” His hands reached to cup them, and I sighed, leaning into that touch. My nipples were diamond hard, aching points. The fabric felt rough against my sensitive nerves, but that friction eased with the warmth of his palms. The way he was looking at me left no doubt that he found a wet, bedraggled Evie as sexy as a polished Evadne. Maybe he liked Evie even better, and that soothed an ache in my chest I hadn’t even realized was there most of the time.

“Oh, yeah?” I dared to tease him. “What about without the dress?” I should have known that taunting him was like waving a red flag in front of a bull, and the result was inevitable. I shrieked with shock when he reached up a hand, caught the neckline of the dress with his claws, and, with a ripping noise, shredded the front all the way to my hips.

"Yes, much better," he agreed in a tone that was almost polite, as though we were talking about the weather. "Thank you for the suggestion, my love," he added with a grin. I opened my mouth to protest that this was a borrowed dress, that he had just destroyed the property of a Queen of Tarkan, but he didn't give me the chance. Dipping down, he pressed his mouth to mine. With pleasure dancing through my veins, I succumbed to the touch.

When our tongues touched and tangled, I was lost—caught in the maelstrom he created between us. My pulse did not pound in my throat; it pounded between my thighs with the building desire. It felt so good to cling to his shoulders and become a woman of passion and feelings only: a sensual creature of instinct. My back collided with the stone wall, and water sluiced hotly over every part of me. Aramon was a bulwark against the outside world, pinning me in the corner, where I was safe, where nothing could ever get to me but him.

His hands claimed me boldly, first my breasts, where he plucked at my sensitive peaks, then they freed me of more of the wet, clingy fabric. The dress fell in tatters at my feet, and I didn’t even care because he’d cupped my ass and picked me up, spreading my legs so he could press his still pants-covered cock against my folds. I moaned for him, the sounds I made desperate and lewd, which spurred him on. He muttered all kinds of dirty things to me, interspersed with a rainfall of compliments that fell on drought-stricken ears. He made me feel desired and beautiful, and he made me feel fully, undeniably me.

Then his hands slipped between us and found my wet folds and the sensitive bud of my clit. I came apart for him in seconds when he applied expert pressure with a pinch of his fingertips. “That’s it, beautiful. Come for me.” And I did. There was no other option but to shatter into a thousand pieces in his arms, to surrender to the tidal wave of pleasure that coursed through me. He growled when I shouted his name, and his face was a dangerous, macabre vision swimming in front of me—the red points of his eyes my center of gravity.

Aramon did not make anything easy, and this was no different. I was still panting through the last shudders of that fierce orgasm, but he was already back to stroking my clit, testing me this time and learning the shape of my most intimate parts. One thick finger speared into my passage, and I jerked in his grip, my heels digging into his ass and my nails into the skin over his shoulders. “Yes, that’s it,” he agreed. “You can come again; I know you can.”

He raised me in his arms as easily as if I were a dainty little flower. My legs went over his shoulders, my ass cradled in his large hands, and he replaced the finger in my core with his tongue. A growl rattled through my flesh, and then he sucked and licked, water dripping all over us from the array of showerheads, his skull gleaming in the bright overhead lights. “Aramon!” I shouted, head thrown back as that tongue slid up and started lapping at my turgid clit. I had nothing to hold onto now, could only balance in his grip and ride out the sensations. It was scary, and it was good, and I felt utterly spent and wrung out when my orgasm crested and crashed.

Limp and weak, my head reeling, he lowered me slowly into his arms, cradling me tenderly against his wide chest. I trembled, suddenly cold, though the water still ran hot over our flesh. Aramon’s leather pants had to be utterly wrecked, and they clung to my skin as we stood together beneath the spray. “How was that for watching?” he asked, startling a laugh out of me. The laugh caught me by surprise. Emotionally and physically, I felt wrung out, but that laugh was good—it made my chest feel light.

“Perfect,” I told him. I did not think I could handle the rest of the promises he’d made me, but I was very willing to try. Resting my head against his pecs, I breathed slow and deep; I’d try in a minute, when I felt a little stronger. The water turned off then, and cold air struck my skin, raising goosebumps all along my flesh. I started to shiver immediately and burrowed closer against Aramon’s warm chest.

“Come here, my love,” he rumbled against my wet hair. Then, he picked me up bridal style and tromped out of the shower stall with soggy noises, as water dripped from his soaked pants onto the marble floor. He was tender as he wrapped me up in thick, fluffy towels and started to rub me dry. Then, he carried me—with still soggy pants—into the bedroom and slid me beneath the many blankets into the bed. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

I blinked after him, admiring his muscled back and narrow hips as he returned to the bathroom. The shower turned back on a moment later, and my ears perked up when I heard him growl, followed by a long, drawn-out moan that made my core tingle. Did he just go back into the bathroom to jerk off? Why?

My thoughts were confused and spinning by the time he returned, not even two minutes later. Dry this time and completely nude, his cock jutting proudly from his hips and still very much erect. “Still awake?” he asked, eyes twinkling as he turned to give me the best view of his cock, his hand lowering to stroke the rampant length. “Your turn to watch?”

I nodded immediately, now certain I had imagined the sound of that moan—or at least misunderstood what it meant. But Aramon’s brows lowered over his eyes, a frown marring his face, which was oddly handsome despite the ghoulish markings. “No, you are too tired. I need you rested for all the things I want to do to you.” He opened his mouth, the tip of his tongue licking along one of his sharper canine teeth. “And there’s so much I am going to do to your sexy body, mate.”

Mate. There, he said it again. My body tingled with happiness, veins singing with pleasure. He really was my mate. I hadn’t imagined any of that lust-at-first-sight stuff. Aramon meant home in a huge, terrifying galaxy—a galaxy that had been out to kill me for as long as I could remember. But not really me: Evadne. I had just been in the way. I dared to hope that, with Aramon in my corner, I might finally be safe. Truly safe. Forever. There could be no place safer than at the side of a notorious mercenary, could there?

I slipped my arms from beneath the blankets and stuck them out to him, and he came to me immediately, his mouth splitting into a wide, happy smile. “Oh, yeah?” I said, falling into a by-now-familiar pattern. It was too exciting to tease him, to taunt him. Each time I did, I could not regret it. “Promises, promises. More actions, less talking.” That made him laugh—a deep, throaty sound that washed over me and warmed my skin. It was a pleasure to bask in his mirth and share his smile; it was so full of life. With Aramon, I knew he was always true to himself and always able to look on the bright side. I had never known how much I needed that in my life, but I truly did.

He sauntered closer, his cock swaying tauntingly. It was beautiful—thick as my wrist, long, and crowned with a rounded head so dark it was almost black. The patterned bumps along the shaft were just as Evadne’s gossip had promised. But Aramon’s cock had another surprise: a piercing. One ring through the round, flared head, and bars forming a neat ladder on the upper side. His heavy balls hung beneath that thick length, swaying as he strutted closer. He called me pretty, but truthfully, so was he, and he made my mouth water.

He hummed deep in his throat as he came to a stop right beside the bed. I rolled onto my side and scooted closer, the cold receding as heat thundered through my veins. I licked my lips, noticing how that made the red glow of his eyes flare brighter and his cock twitch toward his belly. “Ah, sweet princess,” he said, his voice low and rough, “I wanted to let you sleep. You’re so tired. But how you tempt me… You tempt me so blazing much. Too much. Will you wrap those pretty lips around my cock?” When I nodded, he stepped closer, and that was all it took. I opened my mouth, licking his heated flesh as he shuddered and moaned, his hands clenching into fists against his thighs. “Yes, stars, that’s it. Suck me deep, pretty woman.”

So I did, hollowing my cheeks and sucking him deep. I could not hold him properly when I wrapped a hand around his length, and he curled a fist around mine and helped me stroke him in time with the bobbing of my head. His husky groans were all the encouragement I needed, but the taste of him was equally rewarding. I did not know what to expect; I had only ever been with a handful of Xurtal males. This male was nothing like them—his texture, his scent, and his taste all different. Better, at least to me. Aramon was like the scents and flavors I recalled from home: gingerbread, cinnamon, warm cozy afternoons.

Then he slid his hand into my hair, holding me in place so he could pump his hips gently into my mouth, his thighs quivering with each thrust. His jaw was clenched tightly, and his eyes burned holes into my face as he watched me suck his length. It was almost as satisfying to pleasure him this way, to let him use me for his own needs, as it had been to come apart in his arms in the shower before. Almost. My legs shifted restlessly beneath the blankets, my clit ached, and my passage flooded with wetness all over again. I was starting to think he was wrong—I wasn’t too tired. I needed him to fuck me right now.

I began to pull back so I could tell him that, but then his hips stuttered, and with a final thrust and a loud groan, he came. His seed flooded my mouth; it spilled from the corner and dripped down my chin. He tasted good, and he sounded even better, groaning my name: “Evie.” “Blazing stars, that’s good. So good, my sweet,” he groaned as the last of his seed spurted from the flushed, pierced tip. When he pulled back, I licked the semen from my lips, and he groaned again. “That’s so hot.”

Of course he’d think that. Pulling my arms back to curl them safe and warm under the blanket, I felt treasured when he leaned over to tuck the blankets more tightly around me. Then, he dipped his head to brush a kiss over my forehead, and he was gone again, strutting back into the bathing room. He had one hell of an ass—his cheeks tight and his thighs thick with muscle. It wasn’t a bad view at all, but I liked it even better when he returned to wipe up the wet puddles we’d left on the floor. I could appreciate a guy who cleaned up after himself, and I hadn’t expected that of Aramon.

“Let me pull on clean clothes and then we’ll cuddle, my pretty Evie,” he rumbled when he caught my stare. “You’ll need your sleep. I have so many plans for you.” Yeah, he’d said that and I couldn't wait but now that the passion was cooling again, nerves began to flutter in my belly. Tomorrow, I’d have to return to the negotiations and try again. I did not hold out hope that I could make this alliance take shape without conceding to some kind of export agreement with all parties. It was the last thing the Xurtal Kingdom wanted, but it was still better than risking an invasion.

Aramon returned with pants on—a clearly new set of leather pants—and he was stomping his feet back into his boots. “Why are you getting dressed?” I wondered aloud, and he gave me a very serious look that sent a chill down my spine. Something was up.

“Just a precaution. I’m keeping watch; I don’t trust the situation. But you can sleep, Evie. I’ll keep you safe, as will my brothers outside. We’ve got Jaxin and Gamesh on guard tonight, too.” He had just finished pulling on his second boot when there was a knock at the door.