Chapter 7

My god, the man can kiss. Our chests are pressed together, my nipples hard from the fact he's already sucked on them before we even kissed. And I let him. I wanted it; I wanted him. He feels right.

So much for no funny business. I lick against the seam of his lips, and he wraps an arm around my naked torso, fondling one nipple as his other hand cups the back of my head.

There's nothing funny about this.

I should be freaked out. I have a constellation glowing like the sun against my ribcage, for crying out loud. Every time he touches me it sends an electrical jolt of need through my body. None of this is normal. Instead, I'm painfully aroused and want nothing more than to throw Dabin down in the dirt and ride him until the sun rises.

His touch seared through me, the achingly slow way he caressed my skin. No one has ever touched me like that, or looked at me like that, and I've been with my fair share of men.

Not one of them has made me feel as treasured as this one.

I sigh with pleasure, and Dabin takes advantage of my mouth opening, slicking his tongue against mine.

And then we are kissing. Really kissing.

Not the gentle, probing kisses we started with, either. I tug his head closer to mine, loving the way his coarse waves feel in my hand. His palm curls around the nape of my neck, and heat floods me. I'm so turned on. It's ridiculous, in fact, how turned on I am. Just from some light petting and making out. I'm flooded with arousal, and I know if I dipped my hands into my panties, they'd be soaked.

The thought of touching myself makes me moan again. Dabin capture the noise with his mouth, and I shiver against him. He's turned on too. His rock-hard cock nudges against my bottom, and I want to touch it. Instead, I rock against, and he groans.

Hearing him lose control, this big, patient man who looks at me like I hung the moon, makes me even more excited. His calloused fingers tease my nipple, and my back arches, my butt pressing onto his lap even harder. The world, this weird, different world, is reduced to the feel of our skin against one another, the slide of his tongue against mine, the wet heat pooling between my legs.

"I want you." He pulls back, looking down on me with his brown-gold eyes. His pupils are blown, his eyes half-lidded and so, so sexy.

I bite my lip, unsure, and he groans, his gaze dipping to my mouth.

"Danielle," he says, then his mouth meets mine again. There's no gentleness now. The kiss spirals, raw with need, until I'm rocking my hips back and forth, aching for him, needing to be touched.

His hand drifts from my breasts, finding the edge of my shorts. His mouth on mine is a claiming, the mark of Capricorn burning against my torso as he unbuttons them with a deft, quick hand.

I roll my hips up, wanton with lust, half-mad with it. I need to get off like I've never needed to orgasm in my life. It's like everything in me is screaming to me that it's time to have sex with Dabin.

His fingers delve into my underwear, and I gasp out as he slicks a finger through my folds.

"You're wet for me, Danielle," he growls, bringing the finger to his lips. His eyes close as he licks the moisture from it.

I suck in a breath. He's tasting me, oh my god, and it's so dirty and such a turn-on. If I get any more turned on, I might explode. I squirm, making a small, needy noise, and one corner of his mouth kicks up in a cocky half-smile.

He puts his hand back into my shorts, and I buck against it.

"Take what you need," he murmurs, kissing alongside my neck, behind my ear. He pushes my underwear to the side, rubbing the rough pad of his finger against my sex, teasing my clit.

I'm panting with need, wild at his touch. I'm completely out of control, like an animal in heat, like it's some kind of biological imperative to throw down with Dabin as soon as possible.

Biological imperative.

I sit up in his arms, my eyes flying open. The thought is like being dipped in an ice bath. Mating. Mate.

"I can't do this," I huff out, panic bleeding away the arousal. "I can't be your mate. I don't know you; I don't know this world. It's too much." It's too fast.

He doesn't say anything; he simply puts my panties back in place, buttoning my shorts for me. He gives me a long look, and for some reason, I worry he's going to be mad.

No. I'm not going to worry about making him mad, that's bullshit.

Even so, when he smiles at me, pressing a kiss to my forehead, I feel better. It melts me a little, and I half-wonder if I've made a mistake. Even now, I can feel the evidence of my arousal coating me between my legs.

Dabin presses his forehead to mine. "There is no need to rush, my mate."

I swallow against the lump in my throat. "I'm tired."

He helps me stand, handing me my bra and shirt, and I rub the burning sensation on my ribs. The mark. I glance down at it, the red glow of the constellation standing out against my ribs.

My stomach turns, and I rub my temples.

This is too much to take in.

"Come, my Danielle, I will run you a bath. Tomorrow we will go to market for fresh food and clothing for you." He tucks some stray hair behind my ear, and I slip my shirt back on.

He makes it sound like I'm going to be here for a very long time, indeed.

"Dabin… I can't stay here. I have a life. I have to get back."

He cocks his head at me, pausing where he's picking up the leftover food. "Get back where?"

I make a noise of frustration. "Get back to Earth. I don't belong here. This isn't my home."

"Do you have a mate? You left a family? Friends? I understand this, then." His lips thin in displeasure.

"Ah, no mate." I spread my hands wide. "No family, either." I don't address the last question. I have friends, don't I? I narrow my eyes, watching the little lanterns swing from the tree branches. I have people I talk to regularly. The guy at the gas station, the girl who makes my fancy coffee I treat myself to once a month, the PhD advisor who stopped returning my emails.…

God. Maybe I don't really have friends. I scrunch my nose up, wordlessly staring at him.

The platter he holds wobbles, and his throat bobs as he stares down at me. A beat of silence passes, the only sound the popping wood in the firepit behind us.

Finally, he dips his chin. "If that is what you want, my Danielle, if that is what will make you happy, we will figure out a way to return you to Earth."

I follow him into the house, rubbing the burgeoning hollow ache in my chest. It should feel good, that he's listened to me, that he's agreed to help me get back.

It doesn't.