7. Tarak

SEVEN

TARAK

My sweet mate has changed.

Of course she has.

She’s carrying our second child. She’s suffused with the sacred glow of pregnancy.

Everything about her is sublime.

Her scent.

The swells and curves of her body, which I know better than the mapped constellations.

The ease with which she goes about business, knowing exactly what she wants, fully confident in the fact that she has me backing her up.

She’s changed.

She’s no longer the naive human I encountered on that dilapidated mining station. She’s no longer afraid of me or unsure of herself.

She isn’t as rash or impulsive as she once was.

She takes her time, considers all angles, and comes up with ideas I wouldn’t have conceived of in a million light-years.

That’s why I need her.

There’s no way I could nurture our tribe on my own.

I only know harshness, discipline, and how to be ruthless.

I need her softness, her wisdom, her quiet strength. She alone tempers me.

And that is how it should be.

As she looks out the window, momentarily quiet and lost in thought, I study her, taking in her effortless, uncontrived beauty.

Pregnancy has made her soft features a little fuller, her dewy skin accentuated with a smattering of darker pigment. She’s allowed her hair to grow longer—unbound and subtly golden, it cascades over her shoulders, partially hiding her graceful, delectable neck, which I long to plant my lips against.

She wears a long, simple garment made of soft fabric decorated with foliage and flowers in shades of green, white, and pink. The garment flows over her body, making her all the more tantalizing—a tempting package for me to unwrap.

I’m already hard.

My mind and soul are kindling, and she’s the spark.

It never, ever takes long.

Her dress is revealing only at the place above her breasts, where it crosses over, allowing me a glimpse of her chest and collarbones.

What a magnificent sight she is, made all the more enticing because she seems completely unaware of the extent to which she drives me mad.

I could devour her—right here, right now.

In fact, I think I will.

The car turns, hovering over a narrow road that’s more compressed dirt than tarmac. It astounds me that such things still exist on Earth—and still appear to be in use—but humans are a species of wild contradictions.

At last, we reach the end of the road, where towering vapor-forms rise above a dark, choppy ocean. Clouds, humans call them.

I make a signal to the driver and guard—a Third Division warrior called Gralek. Take your leave.

He nods and quickly exits the vehicle, disappearing toward the secure compound, a structure I had built after learning we were to visit the area. Kainan assisted me with acquiring the land. Territory is easy enough to acquire on Earth—many humans will sell anything for the right price.

The door seals shut, cutting us off from the stifling conditions outside. It’s cool and dark in here, just the way I like it.

The wind whips the trees outside, but the sound is muted. Electrical discharge crackles in the vapor-forms above.

There’s a tension in the atmosphere that mirrors my own. Abbey is adamant the storm won’t come, but I disagree.

It’s interesting that the rain on Earth always brings with it a sense of relief.

But I need release.

She looks up at me in surprise, and the ever-so-slight, sensual parting of her lips is almost enough to break me.

“I need you,” I say quietly.

“Now? Here? ” Her eyelids flutter, her pupils dilating an infinitesimal fraction.

“Yes.”

While we have a chance.

In this safe, quiet cocoon—a stolen sliver of time and space—I will have her.

My desire for her is endless. If she wished, she could fall into it and be engulfed whole, and I would hold her there and ensure she would never want for anything.

But she isn’t like that.

She wants to give as much as she gets.

“ You… ” She places her hand against my chest, in the dip between the folds of my kashkan where my heart is beating.

Desire shimmers in her tawny-green eyes.

Her arousal intensifies, the scent intoxicating me. A switch flicks inside my brain, erasing all logical thought.

All I want is my mate.

I want to taste her, to drown in her.

I move, dropping to my knees before her, bending lower, lifting her skirts, parting her legs. She gasps and leans back against the seat, kicking off her shoes and threading her fingers through my hair with great urgency.

I can hear their dual heartbeats—hers and our child’s.

I already know the gender of our child—the scent gives it away—but I’ll keep it a secret from Abbey because she wants it to be a surprise, and I always give her what she wants.

What she wants is never unreasonable.

I inhale deeply as I bury my face between her thighs. Her aroma is rich and heady, ripe with arousal, made all the more potent by her current state.

Her undergarments are in my way. I solve that hindrance with a quick flick of my finger, extending my claw, tearing through the thin barrier with exacting precision.

A sweet gasp escapes her lips as I kiss her there, crushing my lips against her sweet warmth.

Then, I taste her.

She is sublime.

She writhes.

I grip her thighs, pinning her in place.

She runs her hands over my scalp, coming to a stop over my horn-buds, applying pressure with her thumbs, encircling them, knowing exactly where to get me so that I experience the greatest amount of exquisite agony.

I suck her clit, which has become slightly enlarged and ever more sensitive than usual.

She gasps louder.

Then, she whimpers, and her whimpers quickly become a desperate cry as she begs me for release.

I oblige, delighted at how easily she tips over the edge.

She climaxes under my hands and tongue, soft and pliable like putty, voicing her pleasure, quivering, and then collapsing into a hot, adorable little mess.

My hunger for her intensifies. The last shred of my self-control slips away. I rise and push her back against the seat, my gaze locked onto her gorgeous, flustered face, which is suffused with pink.

Her eyes are wide. Her mouth is open, revealing a hint of her glistening pink tongue.

Driving me even more mad for her.

She tears at my belt, pulling my kashkan open. Then, she’s unfastening me, sliding my trousers over my hips, her lithe fingers gliding over my hard length.

She draws me toward her with all the force that exists in her little body, wrapping her legs around me.

I run my hands over the gentle swell of her belly, feeling the miracle we’ve created, reveling in the mystery and the glory that is her.

With surprising power, she pulls me toward her, her legs like a clamp.

And then, with me kneeling before her, she pulls me inside her and proceeds to fuck me, moving her hips back and forth, wrapping her arms around my neck.

My universe explodes.

I pull her forward, lying down on the floor so she sits astride me.

I let her have her way with me, watching her intently as she closes her eyes and rocks her body back and forth, grinding from side to side, drawing out every last molecule of pleasure.

I let her take me for as long as she wants until I can stand it no more.

I rise, wrap my arm around her, and withdraw, my cock beyond enlarged, straining for release. She could destroy me right now, and I would happily die of pleasure in her arms.

The need for release drives me.

The need to claim her robs me of even the faintest sliver of rationality. I’m a mindless beast, consumed by white-hot desire.

Roughly, I turn her around, bending her over so she’s on her knees with her palms pressed against the seat.

I take her from behind, sliding my hands over her rounded belly and then up to her gloriously full breasts, taking each of her nipples between my fingers and caressing them as I enter her again.

She’s wet beyond imagining.

Pliant, ready, willing.

Pure, perfect silk.

Mine.

Oh-so gently, I wrap one arm against her neck and drop my other hand to her clit, caressing her as I fuck her harder.

Dragging myself ever closer to the brink.

She wraps her hands around my arm, digging her nails in, tearing at me a little.

I let her.

That tiny starburst of pain is what pushes me over the edge at last.

I come inside her.

I hold her, burying my nose in her hair, inhaling her divine fragrance, drawing her essence into my soul.

I hold her for a long time after the climax, planting soft kisses on the side of her neck, tasting her salty sweetness.

“ You’re mine,” I whisper before playfully biting her earlobe, grazing the skin with my fangs but never breaking it.

“I know,” she murmurs, her voice cracking but laced with a hint of triumph.

Because she knows her hold on me is complete and utterly unbreakable.

Even if the Universe crumbles into stardust, I will never let her go.