She jerked when Malekith nipped her, sending tiny sparks of electricity zapping along each nerve ending.
“Do not speak his name, Clara, my ta’lla,” he growled. “That male no longer has any claim to you.”
A delicious shiver raced down her spine.
He’d called her his ta’lla again. That was the third time in less than 24 hours.
Working for the Embassy taught her that humans were unique in many ways, including the fact that they would spend years getting to know a potential partner before agreeing to marriage. Many beings from other planets often commented on this strange custom of theirs and that was how Clara learned that most races relied upon their senses to help them find their mates. She had never suspected that she was Malekith’s mate because he acted professionally around her, asking after her politely but never overstepping the boundaries that existed between them. Up until last night, she believed Malekith to be a powerful war commander that deserved everyone’s immediate respect and a gentleman that worked in another part of the building, someone she could call a friend at the absolute most.
Her heart ached with the knowledge that Malekith must have known she was his ta’lla for years. And yet … he never even hinted that what he felt towards her ran far deeper than that of an office friend. She didn’t understand why.
While he may not have said anything, his actions clearly spoke of the depth of his feelings for her. She remembered the two of them having a conversation not too long ago about what they both planned on doing for the holidays and she admitted that she missed her family but explained that Chase preferred to remain at home.
Hold on a moment, she thought, her mind beginning to whirl.
“Malekith.”
“Hmm?”
“How were you able to book transportation at the last minute?”
He squeezed her sides before he rested his chin on her shoulder, his warm breath tickling her cheek.
“To be honest, I did not think I would be able to,” he explained, “but when the woman recognized me over the phone, she made arrangements for me.”
Turning in his arms, she raised her eyebrows at him but the smile reassured him that she was teasing when she said, “Taking advantage, now, were we, Commander?”
His pupils dilated and he offered her a dangerous smile that should have caused her to run away in terror; instead, warmth pooled in her lower belly and arousal pulsed between her legs.
“I would never do such a thing, my dearest ta’lla,” he rumbled, nuzzling her affectionately.
Four! That’s four times now!
Her smile grew.
“I love it when you call me that,” she admitted.
“When I call you my ta’lla?” he asked her softly before lowering his mouth to hers.
Her breath escaped her lungs in a soft whoosh of air and his arms tightened around her middle, his hand creeping upwards to cradle her breast. That gentle pulse of arousal strengthened, heat coiling in her belly, and she clenched her thighs together in an attempt to ease the pressure slowly, oh so slowly, building inside of her. Malekith growled, the pure, primal sound plunging straight for her womanhood. A shiver raced down her spine. Her fingers crept higher and then she grasped one of his pure white horns.
He drew back and hissed at her, his teeth bared, his pupils dilating until mostly black filled his eyes.
“Clara,” he snarled, his voice rough with his own arousal, “my ta’lla, you mustn’t tease me.”
She tugged on his horn and his lips curled to reveal his lethal fangs.
“Why not?” she asked him softly.
He stared down at her, his inhuman features strikingly handsome; his white skin sparkled beneath the early afternoon sun.
“My instincts demand that I claim you,” he growled, stealing a quick kiss from her lips. “I am trying to be patient, to give you the time to get to know me as is custom amongst humankind, but it is especially difficult when you touch me so.”
He was holding himself back for her?
Chase had never done such a thing. He’d always taken from her, whether she wanted to or not. He hadn’t raped her; thankfully, sex was something that Chase wasn’t overly interested in.
Her heart swelled with warmth.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered and dropped her hand from his head.
“Don’t apologize,” he returned, nuzzling her cheek. “I just don’t want you to feel pressured or rushed into this, Clara. You have a choice, you know, and I will respect it.”
And her heart swelled a little more.
Damn it, she thought with a smile, happiness still bubbling inside of her, the War Commander’s made me fall for him in less than 24 hours. Males like him should not be allowed to set foot on Earth. Us women don’t stand a chance.
But, she wondered, is that such a bad thing?
She grabbed Malekith’s hand.
“Come on,” she urged him. “Let me show you around, Malekith.”
Offering her a brilliant smile, he raised her gloved hand to press a kiss to her knuckles.
“Lead on, my lady.”
3
Malekith
His ta’lla shifted from foot to foot nervously, her fingers flexing against the carefully wrapped gift she held in her hands. The scent of her unease filled his nostrils, flooding his brain with the instinct to protect her from the approaching threat and his tail whipped between his legs agitatedly, the venom dripping from his stinger hissing softly whenever a droplet connected with the deck they stood upon. She stole a glance at him, her face pale, her honey-coloured eyes wide, her pulse visible in the elegant length of her neck.
“Malekith?”
“Forgive me, my ta’lla,” he murmured. “Your discomfort triggers my need to protect you. The moment I feel threatened, I begin to produce venom.”
She paled at his words.
“My mother isn’t a threat, Malekith!”
“I am aware,” he said, attempting to soothe her. “I have no intention of harming your loved ones, I give you my oath.”
She tilted her head, the light from the outdoor lamp causing strands of her hair to shimmer with hints of gold. “Oath?”
“Until the light fades from the stars in the sky,” he swore solemnly.
“I believe you, Malekith,” she said hurriedly. “You didn’t need to swear an oath for me.”
“It is my pleasure, Clara, to put you at ease.”
The two of them stared at each other for several long moments before the door opening drew their attention.
“Yes, may I help you?”
An elderly female stood in the doorway, her light brown hair shimmering with strands of silver, laugh lines evident around her eyes and mouth. Her golden eyes dulled with age, the exact same shade as Clara’s own, flicked between the two of them before she settled her gaze upon his ta’lla. Her lips parted on a soft gasp and her eyes filled to the brim with tears.
“Clara?” she whispered.
“Hi Mom,” Clara said softly, her voice quivering with emotion.
And then the older female threw her arms around Clara’s neck with a shriek.
Clara wrapped her arms around her ta’len’a’s waist, the two females embracing each other tightly, both of them weeping tears that glittered like shards of broken diamonds upon their pale cheeks.
Her ta’len’a drew back, her hands still gripping her daughter’s forearms, and her lips curved upwards in a watery smile before she tenderly traced Clara’s cheek.
“Oh, Clara,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat. She paused for a moment, took a breath and exhaled but her golden eyes shone with tears. “Does this mean you’re finally free of him?”
Clara glanced over at him and her ta’len’a followed her gaze.
Stepping forward, Malekith offered her a bow that he reserved for those of the highest regard – the Lady Celeste of Lunar City, the beautiful Lilyanna, the Empress of the Andromeda Galaxy that bordered the Milky Way Galaxy, and his superior,
General Detlef – placing a closed fist over his heart, his left arm behind his back and knelt on one knee.
“Mrs. Darling,” he murmured, tilting his head upward and exposing his throat to her, his horns pointing up towards the sky, “I am Commander Malekith Ska’arzal. It is an honour to meet you.”
“I know who you are, Commander,” she whispered.
She turned back to Clara.
“Is Commander Ska’arzal the reason you’re free of Chase, Clara?”
Her honey-coloured eyes sparkling with tears, his ta’lla inclined her head.
Malekith did not expect what happened next.
Mrs. Darling closed the distance between the two of them and embraced him as warmly as she had her own daughter.
“Thank you,” she breathed, her body trembling against his. “Thank you for rescuing my daughter, Commander Ska’arzal. Thank you for bringing her home to me.”
Drawing back, she wiped her eyes with her fingertips and her smile transformed her into a woman of radiance.
“Call me, Malekith, please,” he said, his tail flicking lightly between his legs, no longer producing venom.
“Only if you agree to call me, Kara,” she teased him.
He returned her smile.
“As you wish, Kara.”
The interior of the cabin glowed with a warm orange light, a fire crackling merrily in the hearth and filling the inside with a gentle heat that melted away the cold of winter night. Beside the crackling fire stood an enormous 12-foot coniferous tree decorated in garlands of blue and silver – the colours of the Interstellar Alliance – and adorned with many unique and sparkling ornaments; the star upon its top shimmered, sparkled and danced, changing from colour to colour, mesmerizing him. Presents of varying sizes sat underneath the tree and stockings hung above the mantle place, four in total, each one bearing the name of a family member: Derek. Kara. Clara. TJ.
He sat upon the sofa next to his beloved ta’lla, one hand resting on her knee while he nursed a cup of hot chocolate with the other. He could not stop watching Clara as she carefully blew on the too-hot mug before timidly taking a sip; whipped cream frothed her upper lip and his mouth watered, wanting to lick the sweet treat from her lips with his tongue. His tail coiled loosely around her calf, brushing just behind her knee every now and then.
“You look happy, sweetheart,” Kara murmured as she sat down on the sofa opposite the two of them. She blew over the rim of her steaming cup of coffee. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you smile.”
Malekith glanced at his ta’lla and she ducked her head shyly but a smile adorned her lips.
“Chase didn’t like it,” she explained softly.
Kara frowned, her eyes narrowing.
“Ta’lla,” he growled, his tone low and gently chiding. “What did I tell you?”
“That he has no claim to me.”
“That’s right,” he rumbled, leaning forward to caress her cheek, his thumb stroking over her cream-covered upper lip. Her eyes locked with his as her tongue flicked between her lips and stroked over the pad of his thumb. Lightning shot straight to his groin. His fangs ached with the need to pierce her flesh and his mouth watered, hungry for the taste of her blood. His tail tightened around her calf.
“Ahem.”
Both he and Clara drew back, gently reminded that they were not alone in the cabin.
He inclined his head toward Kara.
“Apologies.”
“I don’t mind what the two of you do on your own time,” Kara said, her lips twitching with laughter, “but I don’t need to see you lusting after my daughter, Malekith.”
“Mom!” Clara gasped, a blush suffusing her cheeks.
Her ta’len’a smiled broadly now, glancing between the two of them with raised eyebrows.
“What? You think I don’t see the way the two of you are eyeing each other?”
Clara covered her face with her hands, failing to hide the embarrassed smile that curved her lips.
“Honestly, I’m glad to see you so happy, Clara,” Kara said, reaching over to grip her daughter’s knee.
“So, you…” Clara hesitated. “You really don’t mind that I’m dating an alien?”
Kara swung her gaze and eyed Malekith.
“Does he treat you well?”
“Yes.”
“Does he make you feel special?”
“Yes.”
“Does your heart beat a little faster when he’s around?”
“Yes.”
“Then why should you dating an alien be a problem for me, Clara?” Kara returned evenly. “All I want is for you to be happy. Your father and brother would have wanted the same. I know it broke your dad’s heart when you started dating Chase.”
His ta’lla flinched.
“Your ta’lnar, your father?” Malekith asked softly.
“He died after the war,” Kara explained. “A car accident. Black ice. He collided headfirst with a tree.”
Malekith bowed his head.
“My sympathies. Losing a loved one can be difficult. I hope his soul has found peace amongst the stars.”
Both women stared at him.
“Have I said something wrong?”
“No,” Clara whispered, “but, Malekith, I think that’s sweetest thing someone has ever said about my father.”
Kara offered him a watery smile.
The fire crackled and popped, glowing orange sparks fluttering up in the hearth before floating up the chimney never to be seen again. Clara snuggled against his side, her head resting on his chest, the three of them falling into a comfortable silence, content to watch the flickering flames dance.
Finally, with a soft groan, Kara rose to her feet.
“I’m going to bed now,” she said.
Clara pulled away from him and embraced her ta’len’a, pressing a kiss to the older female’s cheek.
“Goodnight,” Kara called as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom.
“’Night Mom!”
“Goodnight, Kara.”
Clara laughed softly, her golden eyes sparkling with hints of burnt amber, making her irises appear to glow in the dim light of the cabin.
“So formal, Commander Ska’arzal,” she teased him.
He leaned forward, invading her space, and nuzzled the crook of her neck, inhaling through his nostrils. Her scent, the sweet tang of cinnamon and apples, lingered on the back of his tongue; he licked her throat, opening his mouth to rest his teeth on the gentle curve between her shoulder and neck.
“Malekith,” she breathed.
His lips curving upwards in a smile, he trailed delicate kisses up and down the column of her throat. “Command me to stop, my beloved ta’lla, and I will,” he purred.
She hesitated – and that hesitancy was enough for Malekith to draw back from her in order to peer into her eyes curiously. She bowed her head, her cheeks growing that becoming shade of pink from the night before, her eyes lowered submissively; he watched her white teeth flash as she bit her bottom lip nervously. In that moment, he wanted to bite her lip and then kiss her all better. Pleasure tingled along the base of his tail to the very tip of his stinger and his erection pressed against the crotch of his pants, a dull ache beginning to build in his balls.
“Why did you never say anything?”
He knew what she meant. He abhorred dishonesty and he would never lie to his ta’lla.
“I believed you to be happy with Chase,” he told her truthfully, “and all I want is for you to be happy, Clara, even if that meant seeing you with someone else.”
She lifted her head and stared at him intently, her golden eyes sparkling softly in the orange glow of the dying fire.
“And now?”
He exhaled stiffly.
“Now?” he returned quietly. “My only thought is to claim you, to bind you to me, heart and soul, as you have bound me to you.”
“I have your heart and soul?” she whispered.
In one graceful move, he sank to his
knees before her, holding her hands in his.
“My heart and soul,” he swore, his voice thick with emotion. “My body is your shield and I will be your light when all seems lost to you. Every breath I breathe is yours. Every beat of my heart is yours. Every droplet of blood that pumps through my veins is yours. And all the love in my heart, the love I felt from the first moment I saw you all those years ago to many years in the future when we are both old and have lived happy lives, is yours.”
“Malekith…”
“You need not say anything, Clara,” he murmured, holding her gaze and refusing to allow her to look away. “I just want you to understand how I feel about you.”
“Yes.”
He blinked in confusion.
“Yes?”
Leaning forward, Clara pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss.
“How can I refuse such a beautiful proposal?” she whispered against his lips.
“I – I do not have a ring,” he admitted, ducking his head shamefully. “I did not think that I would be proposing to you this night, Clara.”
She laughed and that sound of joy and happiness caused hope to flare inside him.
“I don’t need a ring, Malekith,” she said.
“But it is custom—”
She pressed a hand to his lips.
“I don’t need a ring,” she continued. “It’s enough for me knowing that I am yours and that you are mine.”
Rising to his feet, he pulled her into his arms.
“I will give you a ring, ta’lla, because you deserve one and I want everyone to know that you are mine,” he vowed.
“But now,” he growled, “now I will claim what is rightfully mine.”
4
Clara
For the past several hours butterflies fluttered nervously in her belly but, now, she thought one of them had flown a little too high into her ribcage because its wingbeats fluttered a little too fast in her chest.
“I will not hurt you, ta’lla”
Oh.
His voice.
His deep, rumbling, velvety, sexy-as-sin voice.
A delicious shiver raced down the back of her spine, causing her nipples to harden and arousal to pulse between her legs.
Stars, Snow and Mistletoe: A Holiday Naughty List Collection Page 19
