Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Jane

S iroc blinked down to me as if I had said something unthinkable. "I could never do that."

"Why not?" I looked up at him, trying to convey the feelings I had for him. They were growing in significance. Not only did I trust him, but I suspected I was beginning to feel something deeper. Urix had given up trying to examine me at this point. "I have a past that may or may not be absolutely horrible, that I can't remember. There is a mysterious being who can take control of my body at any time he wants, and the Thrail seems to think you are under my spell of some sort. I can't stay here." I spread my arms, encompassing the chambers I had come to see as home.

"What do you suggest?" Siroc wore a pained expression.

"If the cells are really that bad, you could move me into my old quarters," I said. "Put guards on my room. Do whatever you need to do to assure people that your judgment isn't impaired. But I can't live with you anymore under these circumstances. And after last night…" I dropped my gaze. I offered no indication whether I was talking about my encounter with the entity or the kiss we shared. Both were complications that added to his problems.

Siroc's gaze locked with mine. "Healer, you may go."

"Yes, Warlord." Urix seemed more than happy to leave and hastily gathered up his things. He placed them on the cart and rolled it towards the door. "I shall see you tomorrow, Jane." Urix gave a bow. "Let me know if you need me, Pal-Siroc."

Siroc nodded curtly and Urix left, shutting the door behind him.

"I don't want you to leave these quarters," he said.

I moved to the edge of the bed and sat down. "Siroc, there's no other way." I spread my hands and dropped them on the mattress. "It's not worth the price you—and by extension, I —would have to pay. If having me live here is a problem, I can go somewhere else. Perhaps someplace safer."

His eyes flared. "There's no safer place for you than here, by my side."

I looked up at him. "What do I mean to you?" I asked. It was time for some truths. I needed to know where I stood with this male. He seemed to make a practice out of speaking in riddles, ending conversations before they got too deep. And I, with so many uncertainties of my own, needed to know a little bit more about who I was. To him. To myself. "You said you cared for me. What does that mean?"

His eyes clouded with conflict. "I don't yet know," he replied, gritty with uncertainty. "I want you. Every moment of every day you are on my mind. Sometimes at the edges of my thoughts. Sometimes consuming them. When I see you, my cock gets hard. I have never known desire like this." He sounded bewildered by this, and it would've been charming or funny under different circumstances—if my fate and life didn't hang in the balance.

"I am attracted to you too," I said. "But you know that. After all, I'm the one who attacked you last night."

"You did not attack me," he said in a tired voice. "What you did was show mercy. I was so relieved when you touched me, kissed me, that I wanted to drop to my knees and thank you."

"Then why did you stop me?"

He spread his arms. "Because the situation is dangerous. Because you had just returned from a terrifying encounter that had exhausted you and, I thought, impaired your judgment. I would not take advantage of you in a weakened state. If we ever come together to mate, it will be without regrets later."

I rose from the edge of the bed. "I am not in a weakened state now."

His body froze. Rigid. Tense.

He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath through flared nostrils. "What are you saying, Jane?"

I swallowed. My throat felt thick and tight. "I'm saying that I want you. All the things you said, about how you feel about me, I feel them too. About you."

His hands curled into fists. "You don't know what you're saying. Do you even know what desire is?"

"Of course I do," I said. "I am an adult woman. Not a child. Just because I don't remember…" I bit my bottom lip and shook my head in annoyance. "Just because I can't remember my past doesn't mean I don't know my body. I desire you. I have since the day you brought me into this room. In truth, I have since I woke up and saw you standing over me in the infirmary."

He looked as if he had been dealt a blow. His mouth went slack with surprise. The spikes, which had been flat against his arms and shoulders, rose slightly from his skin. I had never seen them raised. They looked fearsome. Feral.

"It appears we have a dilemma, Jane." He walked again, pacing back and forth, keeping his gaze riveted on mine. "You want me. But you also want me to send you away."

"I don't want you to send me away," I clarified. "But that is the best option right now. You have the power in this Thrail. I have none."

"That is not exactly true," he said. "You have enormous power. Over me."

His words sent a shiver through me. My body came alive. My nipples hardened and sensitized. My pussy throbbed and became wet. "I'm just a woman," I said. "You are the warlord."

He stopped walking and faced me. "You are the only one the warlord desires."

My knees would've given out if I hadn't been sitting. "If anything, that makes my situation more precarious."

"Mine as well." He crossed his arms. "I have never had a weakness before."

"You see me as a weakness?"

"Oh, yes," he said. "Under normal circumstances, I would claim you as my own and the people of my Thrail would celebrate our bonding. Our babies would be adored, and you would be the highest-ranking female in Thrail Praxan. But the situation is not normal. I am not even sure who you are."

I rose and stepped towards him. "I don't know who I was before, but I stand before you as Jane ." I held my hands to my sides and rolled my shoulders back. "This is all I know," I said. "I don't know what our future will hold, but I know what I want right now. Today."

His eyes were unfathomably dark. The spikes on his arms rose higher. Claws extended, lengthening his nails. "And what is it that you want?"

"I think you know."

"I need to hear you say it." His voice was hard. "I need the words."

I swallowed, knowing that there was no coming back from this moment. If I put voice to the words sitting on my tongue, there would be no taking them back and no stopping what was coming. My throat was instantly dry, but my body thrummed with knowledge. "I want you, Siroc." I held out a hand, beckoning him to me. "And I want you now."

He came forward like a thunderstorm, moving in like an unstoppable force. His arms around me, one hand covering my bottom, dragging me close. The hard thrust of his cock against my belly was insistent. His other hand spanned my upper back, pressing my breasts against his wide chest.

He looked down at me. His expression was fierce, slightly unhinged. "Be very sure, Jane. Be very, very sure."

His words almost sounded ominous. I shivered in his arms, even as my own wound around his neck and my fingers threaded through his brakas . I had never felt them before, but the fleshy, tubular appendages that he had instead of hair felt erotic through my fingers. "I am sure," I said, with a breathless voice.

His lips curved into a dark smile. "Very well. Remove your clothing."

He released me and stepped back, watching with almost an impassive gaze. My fingers shook as they rose to the shoulders of my tunic. I gripped the fabric and pulled upwards over my head. I held the bunched-up shirt in front of my breasts, hit with sudden nerves.

He reached out and grabbed the shirt. For a moment, our fingers brushed. He held the fabric in one fist, then ripped it from my grasp and tossed it to the floor. My hands instinctively went to my breasts to shield them, but he shook his head. "Do not hide yourself from me."

I let out a trembling breath as I dropped my hands, bearing myself to his view. My breath came fast and shallow as his gaze dropped to my hard-tipped breasts. My heart pounded as he came forward and cupped them in his wide hands.

"Beautiful," he murmured, as he captured my mouth in a blistering kiss. His tongue swept inside my mouth, claiming me. Taking me for his own.

Fingers moved over my sensitive skin. Thumbs and fingers gently pinched my nipples, rolling them, sending shocks of pleasure straight to my sex. I moaned and tilted my head back, giving him better access.

I wore panties. Women were used to them, so the Mitrans issued them to us, and I could feel the wetness there. Desire pooled between my legs in a burning, aching, tingling, massive sensation. I could feel his hardness. His need of me.

He dipped his head, pressing kisses along my neck, down my collarbone, to capture a nipple between his lips. He drew it deep, suckling, increasing the ache that throbbed throughout my whole body. The hand that had been on my breast slid down my ribs, over my waist and hips, and between my thighs.

He cupped my sex with a proprietary hand. "Mine," he ground out against my nipple. He nipped and licked back up to my neck, flicking my earlobe with his tongue before finding his way to my mouth again. I was boneless. Mindless in his embrace. His hand moved between my thighs, finding a rhythm through the fabric of my pants, and I rocked against it. I could not stop the pulsing throb of my own body. The aching there grew unbearable.

He backed me up against the edge of the bed, and it took only the slightest push for me to fall back onto it. My back hit the mattress, and he came down on top of me like a savage—arms braced on either side of my head, mouth ravaging mine. His hips thrust hard against my own. His hard cock ground against my mound as his hands massaged my aching clit.

"Take off your pants," he ordered in a calm, low voice.

My fingers twitched to the fastenings, eager to obey. I flicked them open and felt his long fingers slide into the hem and yank them down. He took my panties with them and looked down at my exposed body. I was bare from mid-thigh all the way up. My breath was a chaotic mess. "Are you pleased with what you see?" I asked. I had scars where Urix had removed implants. There were marks that had not yet faded. Perhaps, never would.

"I am in awe of what I see," he said reverently in a low, gravelly voice. "You are perfection."

I knew that wasn't true. Perfection was the opposite of me. I was broken, cut apart and sewn back together like a quilt made by a madman. But under his regard, I felt beautiful. His gaze moved over me with lust and need, and I knew I was beautiful to him .

I kicked off my pants and spread my legs wide. "Take off your clothes," I said, feeling bold.

Instead of working the fastenings, he ripped the shirt off with a claw, right down the center of his shirt, snapping off the fastenings as if it were a rag. He shrugged it off effortlessly. "Pants, too?"

I knew this was a point of no return. Once his cock was freed, there would be no going back. No denying what we both wanted. I would be his. And whatever came afterwards…

I nodded, swallowing hard.

"Oh, no," he said. "Tell me."

"Take off your pants." I didn't even know how the words came out. I was so breathless. He shoved them down and kicked them off along with his boots, leaving him as naked as I was. He leaned down and kissed me again, and I reached up, sliding my hands over his huge horns, which arched out from either side of his head. The spikes had risen high, now. They were fully erect from his shoulders and arms. My hands ran down his back, and I could feel them along his spine too.

When my hands jerked back from them, he pressed a gentle kiss to my throat. "It's okay," he said. "Our spikes rise when we are about to engage in battle and when we are highly aroused." He buried his face in my neck. "I will not hurt you. I promise."

I tilted my neck, offering my throat. "I know."

He kissed me there, running his tongue over my delicate neck, nipping my collarbone, sliding his fingers over my hot, throbbing mound. There was a wet sound as his fingers moved over my pussy, carefully keeping his claws away from my tender skin. I moaned shamelessly as he drove me to ecstasy. He drove my desire higher simply by his touch. His mouth moved lower, tongue sliding over my ribs, dipping into my belly button before going lower still.

I held my breath as his mouth closed around my aching pussy. Warm lips fanned my molten need. His tongue and lips parted my hungry folds. His tongue dipped between and his teeth gently added friction to the sensitive flesh that ignited into flames.

"Oh. Oh! " I arched my hips. His mouth worked me and a wave of building pressure and desire throbbed through my body. His tongue was long and relentless, finding my most sensitive spots and sending me to the edge of madness. My hands gripped the blankets. I lifted one leg and wrapped it around his neck as I thrust against his mouth, needing more. Wanting everything.

I cried out as his mouth closed over my clit and he flicked his tongue against that nub of sensation, before delving back down again into my pussy and finding a spot that sent me over the edge. A guttural cry came from my throat as I came, pulsing into his mouth. He closed his eyes and groaned against me. He did not stop until my body shuddered and I lay gasping and boneless.

His mouth moved to my belly, where he kissed my waist, sliding slowly back up until he captured my mouth again. I could taste my own desire on his lips.

"You could be my sustenance," he muttered gravely against my throat. "Who needs food when I could dine on your desire."

I shuddered with fresh arousal at his words. This male was like a drug. But even as my body lay replete and weak beneath him, I knew we were not done. His body was hard. He slid up, rubbing his hard angles and muscular limbs against me. I knew there was more to come.

I knew I had experienced lust before, but I also knew it had never been like this. This overwhelming storm of hunger that consumed every part of me. This was new to every version of me—past and present. Known and forgotten.

I slipped my hands down over his rigid abdomen and grasped his cock in my hands. It was veiny and thick and powerfully long. Yes, compatible with humans, but large. The head of his cock pressed against my wet opening, even as my fingers explored him. He was not that different than a human. Somehow I knew this, but I felt a stretch at his initial entry and wondered how I would accommodate him. I felt the length of him with my fingers. My hand cupped his weighty balls and I shivered with a fresh wave of worry. Was I enough? Would he even fit inside of me?

His mouth was at my ear, kissing my cheek. "It will be fine, Jane," he said. "I will take my time. I won't hurt you."

I needed to hear this. My body relaxed at the low tones of his voice. I spread my legs wider, and my sex relaxed, opened up for him like a flower in bloom. He slid inside in one sweet, slow stroke, taking me. I gasped as his fullness filled me. Closing my eyes as the new sensation rippled through me like a fresh, warm wave.

"See?" His voice was barely his own. It was choked with need. "You can take me."

"Yes. Okay," I managed to reply. But okay was an inaccurate word for what I was feeling. But then he started to move and I couldn't feel anything but pleasure. I couldn't think. I couldn't form a single coherent thought in my mind. I just wanted , and that seemed to mesh with him and his desires in a way that was almost like synergy. He thrust into me. I met him with my own hips in a rhythm of our own. My hands moved over his horns, over his face and spikes. I wanted to know every inch of him. And I realized that before today, I'd had little chance to touch him. His body was so new. He was undiscovered land.

And so was I. We had spent so much time dancing around each other, moving like orbiting planets, that we had not learned anything about our bodies.

He closed his eyes and grimaced as he thrust harder and faster. He braced his arms on either side of me. He was like a thick, muscled wall all around me, caging me in. Pleasure rose like a great wave within me, sending delicious sensations through every nerve ending, right down to my toes. I felt the pressure build, the rise of desire, and hooked my legs around his waist, desperate for more contact. More. Always more.

Ecstasy hit like a rogue wave to the face. I gasped. My whole body went tense as pleasure pounded through me. It was an explosion of intense hunger and satiation at the same time. I couldn't breathe. Lights exploded at the corner of my vision. I clutched him, desperate for it to last. Overwhelmed by its intensity.

He thrust deeper. His face contorted into an expression of agony, and then, only after my own body relaxed and I lay panting and limp beneath him, did he find his own release, pounding into me, squeezing out those last threads of pleasure from my body as he emptied his seed deep inside of me.

He dropped to his elbows. I didn't know where he ended and I began. We were both gasping, pulsing, throbbing messes of spent desire. All I knew was exhaustion and weakness and bliss.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, allowing one hand to wrap around the spike that rose from the base of his neck. My other hand clutched his shoulder. Was this real? What just happened couldn't be normal. Somehow I knew everything that came before this was an echo of passion—faint and blurred. This was sharp and real and intoxicating.

He stayed inside of me, hard, but slowly softening, even though he had emptied himself. "Jane," he said in a broken voice. "My Jane."

I wrapped my arms around him. Tears slid from my eyes, even though I wasn't crying. It was just so much . I felt everything at once, so much my heart felt like it couldn't contain it all. "My Siroc," I said. "I love you."