Klaz

KLAZ

T he warmth of Cinta’s lips against mine was like a drug, clouding my judgment and setting fire to my instincts. I had known desire before, but nothing like this. It was a wild, untamed thing, clawing at the edges of my control. Her kiss was deep and hungry, pulling me further into the abyss of passion that I had tried so hard to resist.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” I whispered against her mouth, my voice a low growl.

She pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, a mischievous glint in her hazel eyes. “I’m not playing at all,” she said, her fingers working at the fastenings of her uniform.

The fabric fell away, revealing the smooth expanse of her skin. My breath caught in my throat as she stood before me, her confidence as much of a turn-on as her physical form. She was all curves and softness, a sharp contrast to the hard lines and scars that marked my own body.

“You’re beautiful,” I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

Cinta laughed, a sound that was both light and sultry. “I know,” she said, shimmying out of the rest of her clothing. She was teasing me, and we both knew it.

The heat of my own desire, a fierce, throbbing need that demanded satisfaction drove me. I moved toward her, my hands reaching out to explore the contours of her body. My lips found the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, and I felt her tremble beneath my touch.

“,” she murmured.

I responded by nipping at her earlobe, eliciting a gasp from her. “Yes?”

She reached for the fastening of my pants, her fingers deft and sure. “I want to touch you,” she said, her words sending a wave of lust straight to my cock.

I nodded, my ability to form coherent sentences rapidly disappearing. She slid my pants down, freeing my erection. Her hand wrapped around me, her touch light and teasing. I gritted my teeth, fighting back the urge to thrust into her grip.

“You’re so hard,” she observed, a note of wonder in her voice.

“For you,” I admitted, the words wrenched from somewhere deep inside me. “Only for you.”

She stroked me slowly, her thumb circling the head of my cock. Tension coiled within me, a tightly wound spring just waiting to unleash its energy.

With a low growl, I spun her around, pressing her against the bunk. Her hands splayed out on the surface, her ass presented to me like an offering. I nudged her legs apart, my hand sliding between her thighs to find her slick and ready.

“Oh, gods,” she moaned as I teased her clit.

I leaned over her, my other hand coming up to cup her breast. I rolled her nipple between my fingers, delighting in the way she arched her back, pushing herself further into my touch. My lips trailed down her spine, a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses that left her trembling.

“, please,” she begged, her voice ragged with need.

I didn’t make her wait any longer. I slid one finger inside her, then another, curling them to make her cry out in pleasure. I pumped in and out, building a rhythm that had her moaning and writhing beneath me.

“You like that?” I teased.

“Yes, don’t stop,” she gasped, her knees buckling as I drove her closer and closer to the edge.

I could feel her orgasm building, her inner walls tightening around my fingers. I added a third finger, stretching her, preparing her for what was to come. She came with a sharp cry, her body convulsing around mine as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.

I withdrew my fingers, replacing them with the broad head of my cock. I pushed into her slowly, savoring the way her body yielded to mine. She felt incredible, hot and tight and utterly perfect.

“More,” she demanded, her voice muffled by the bunk. “I need more.”

I gripped her hips tightly, holding her in place as I began to move. I thrust into her deeply, each stroke sending sparks of pleasure shooting through my veins. She met me thrust for thrust, her body moving in perfect sync with my own.

“You feel so good,” I groaned, the words barely intelligible.

“So do you,” she panted, her fingers clutching at the bunk. “Harder, . I want to feel you for days.”

I gave her what she wanted, increasing the pace and force of my thrusts. The sound of our bodies coming together filled the room, a symphony of flesh and desire. Pressure built within me, a fierce, unstoppable tide.

“Cinta,” I gasped, my body tensing as my orgasm approached.

“Come for me, ,” she said, her voice a sultry command. “Let go.”

With a final, powerful thrust, I let out a roar, my body shuddering as I spilled myself inside her. The pleasure was overwhelming, a tidal wave of sensation that left me weak and breathless.

As the aftershocks subsided, I pulled out of her, my body protesting the loss of her warmth. I turned her around, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. She melted against me, her hands clutching at my shoulders as she returned the kiss with equal fervor.

We lay together on the narrow bunk, our bodies intertwined. Cinta’s fingers traced the swirling green markings on my chest, following their intricate patterns across my grey skin. The motions were gentle, almost reverent, and I found myself relaxing despite the storm of emotions raging within me.

Cinta’s fingers continued their exploration of my body, tracing the intricate patterns of my Vinduthi markings. She paused at a particularly jagged one that ran across my ribs.

“This one looks nasty,” she said, her fingertip following its length. “I’ve seen you heal from what I thought was a fatal wound when we were fighting those pirates. I can’t imagine how terrible this must have been.”

Memories of that day flooded back. The searing pain, the smell of burnt flesh, the screams of my fallen comrades. I pushed the thoughts away, focusing instead on the warmth of Cinta’s body pressed against mine.

“It was at the end of the war,” I said, trying to keep my voice flat, even. “Before I became a bounty hunter.”

Cinta propped herself up on one elbow, her eyes searching my face. “Why did you choose to take that path?”

Hell.

I’d never told anyone the full story, never allowed myself to be that vulnerable. But as I looked at Cinta, her face open and curious, I felt something inside me shift.

“After the war, I was... lost,” I began, the words coming slowly. “I’d been a soldier for so long, I didn’t know how to be anything else. The things I’d seen, the things I’d done... they haunted me. I couldn’t sleep without nightmares. I couldn’t walk down a street without jumping at every shadow.”

Cinta’s hand found mine, her fingers intertwining with my own. The simple gesture steadied me, giving me the courage to continue.

“I tried to go back to my home world, but everything had changed. Or maybe I had changed. Either way, I didn’t fit anymore. So I left, drifting from one station to another, taking whatever jobs I could find. Most of them involved fighting or killing. It was all I knew how to do.”

I paused, remembering those dark days. The constant buzz of alcohol in my veins, the hollow feeling that never seemed to go away.

“One day, I stumbled into a bar fight. Some local tough was hassling a woman. I stepped in, not because I cared, but because I was itching for a fight. Turned out, the woman was a bounty hunter, and the guy bothering her had a price on his head. She was just luring him in. And kindly offered to split the bounty with me if I helped her bring him in.”

Cinta nodded, encouraging me to go on.

“It was... exhilarating. For the first time since the war, I felt like I had a purpose. I was good at tracking people down, at fighting when I needed to. But more than that, I could choose my targets. I could make sure I was going after people who deserved it.”

“So you became a bounty hunter to be one of the good guys?” Cinta asked, eyebrows raised.

I snorted. “Hardly. I became a bounty hunter because it gave me structure, a way to use my skills without losing myself completely. Being one of the ‘good guys’ occasionally was just a bonus.”

Cinta listened intently, her body warm against mine. When I fell silent, she prompted gently, “But you retired. Why?”

The memory kicked me in the gut, just like it aways did.

“It was supposed to be a simple job,” I began, my voice sounding distant, even to myself. “A fugitive had taken hostages in a crowded market on Feros Triuna. I was hired to bring him in.”

I could see it all so clearly - the bustling marketplace, the scent of exotic spices in the air, the undercurrent of fear as word of the hostage situation spread.

“He had a child,” I continued, the words bitter on my tongue. “A little Ferian girl, no more than six or seven cycles old. I thought... I was so sure I could talk him down, get the child to safety.”

Cinta’s hand found mine, squeezing gently. I clung to that touch like a lifeline as I forced myself to continue.

“I miscalculated. He was more desperate than I realized. When I made my move...” I trailed off, the memory of the child’s scream echoing in my ears. “He killed her. Right in front of me. And I... I couldn’t stop him.”

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the sound of our breathing. Cinta’s fingers intertwined with mine, a silent gesture of support.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said softly.

I scowled, unable to accept her absolution. “I should have been faster. Smarter. I should have...”

“You can’t save everyone, ,” Cinta interrupted. “You’re not a god.”

“No,” I agreed bitterly. “Just a foolish old man who thought he could make a difference.”

I pulled away from her, sitting up on the edge of the bunk. The weight of my past pressed down on me, a burden I’d carried for so long I barely remembered what it felt like to be free of it.

“You deserve better than this, Cinta,” I said, not looking at her. “Better than me. I’m too old, too damaged. The things I’ve done...”

I felt the bunk shift as Cinta moved behind me. Her arms wrapped around my waist, her cheek pressing against my back.

“You think you’re the only one with a dark past?” she challenged. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of to survive.”

I twisted to face her, surprised by the fierceness in her expression.

“I’ve lied, cheated, and stolen,” Cinta continued. “I’ve manipulated people, used them for my own gain. But you know what? I’m not ashamed of who I am. My past made me who I am today.”

She cupped my face in her hands, forcing me to meet her gaze. “And I see you, . All of you. The soldier, the bounty hunter, the man who’s trying so hard to be better. I see the protector, the one who risks his life for strangers.”

I wanted to believe her, to let myself be swayed by the conviction in her words. But the doubt lingered, a poisonous whisper in the back of my mind.

“The age difference-” I began, but Cinta cut me off with a kiss.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said firmly when she pulled away. “Not to me.”

Before I could argue further, she wiggled out of my arms, reaching for the compression bag she’d hidden under her disguise. She pulled out a small package, holding it out to me.

“What’s this?” I asked, taking it from her.

“Open it,” she urged.

I ran my finger along the exquisite handle of the knife, the smooth wood warm against my skin. The craftsmanship was impeccable, unlike anything I’d seen in my travels across the galaxy. My throat tightened as I recognized the significance of the gift.

Cinta’s voice broke through my thoughts. “I know it’s not the right day for the Festival of Blades. And obviously, I didn’t make it myself. But I wanted to give you something.”

I looked up at her, struggling to find words. The weight of the knife in my hand felt like an anchor, grounding me in this moment. My chest ached with an emotion I couldn’t name, something between gratitude and disbelief.

“Cinta, I...” I paused, swallowing hard. “This is... I don’t know what to say.”

She cast her eyes down, cheeks blazing. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to have it.”

I turned the blade over in my hands, admiring the way the light played off its surface.

“I didn’t get you anything,” I said, the words coming out rougher than I intended.

Cinta’s smile widened, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Well, there is one thing I want.”

I tilted my head, curiosity piqued. “What’s that?”

She leaned in close, her breath tickling my ear as she whispered, “I want your claiming bite.”