Rescued

by Presley Hall

  She is mine.

  She’ll always be mine.

  And I’ll kill anyone who lays a finger on her.

  With Chloe still held in the crook of my arm, I slide my hand against Autumn’s cheek and look down into her beautiful blue eyes.

  “Let’s go home,” I whisper, my voice hoarse.

  The tension hovering in the air between me and Autumn as we enter the small pod is palpable, so thick I can almost taste it every time I breathe in.

  This is a different sort of tension than the kind that filled the last two days though. My blood is still up from the fight, adrenaline still surging through me. The need to claim her roars through me with the force of a wildfire—the need to make her mine again, to take back what I almost lost.

  But running through it is a vein of tenderness, the desire to crush her so close to me that it’s impossible for either of us to ever be parted again. And when I look at her as she walks inside, Chloe now cradled in her arms, I can see that same need shimmering in her eyes.

  It’s a relief like I’ve never known to see it there.

  There are things we need to say to each other, and they hover in the air too, unspoken and waiting as we eat a small meal. Afterward, she goes through the motions of getting Chloe ready for bed, bathing her and gently dressing her in clean clothes, nestling her in the blankets while she croons to her until the little girl finally seems to forget about the upheaval of the afternoon. Her eyelids begin to droop, and Autumn presses a kiss to her forehead.

  Through all of it, I hover nearby, unable to tear myself from Autumn’s side for even a moment—as if she might disappear if I so much as look away.

  When Chloe finally sleeps peacefully in her bed, my mate stands up slowly and turns to face me. A wordless look passes between us, and my body floods with heat as she bites her lower lip softly. Her blue eyes fill with the same need I’ve felt every day since the moment I laid eyes on her.

  And underneath that is something else, something I’ve been afraid to even hope for.

  Love.

  Without speaking, she walks up to me, her hand coming up to touch my chest. I’m still bloodied from the battle. I should’ve washed off the evidence of the fight as soon as we returned, but I couldn’t tear myself from Autumn’s side long enough to do it.

  I don’t flinch, don’t so much as stir, even though I want to reach down and grasp her waist, pull her against me and devour her. But I hold still as she leans up on her tiptoes and gently brushes her lips across my mouth, her eyes open and fixed on mine.

  And then she takes my hand, and I follow.

  She leads me into the bathing room, where the small tile-inlaid pool is, and when she turns to me, I can’t hold back any longer.

  I need to feel her against me, need to have her in my arms. I need to remind myself that she’s real and alive.

  That I haven’t lost her.

  Her hand goes down to the tie at my hips that holds my loincloth on, but before she can undo it, I reach for her, hauling her into my arms and up against me. One arm wraps firmly around her waist and the other buries itself in her hair as I pull her mouth to mine, heedless of the dirt and blood still on my skin, heedless of her dress. I need her, and it crosses my mind for a second that perhaps gentleness might have been better after what she just witnessed, but I can’t help myself.

  The need roaring through me is too strong, my desire for her burning like fire in my veins.

  But she doesn’t recoil from me.

  She doesn’t even hesitate.

  My Irisa wraps her arms around my neck, her back arching as she kisses me wildly in return, her hands tangling in my hair. She bites softly at my lower lip, her tongue sliding into my mouth and tangling with mine.

  I can feel it then, the bond between us strengthening and magnifying with every second that passes, and I can feel the same hollow ache inside of her, the same desperate thought that keeps crashing through my own mind.

  I could have lost you.

  “Sorsir,” she whispers softly against my mouth. Her forehead presses to mine as she kisses me harder, her hands sliding down over my shoulders and arms as if she can’t get enough of me, as if she wants to touch every inch of me.

  “Autumn.” I tangle my hands fiercely in her hair, holding her in place as I look down at her. “Promise me, my sweet Autumn. Promise that you’ll never leave me. That you’ll always let me protect you.”

  My voice is a hoarse whisper, my heart pounding wildly in my chest as I look down at her beautiful porcelain face and her clear blue eyes. This is my woman, my Irisa, and I know in the depths of my soul that I’ll die if I lose her again. She was meant to be mine and I hers—and I need to hear her say it, to promise that I’ll never again have to endure the idea of losing her.

  For a moment, she says nothing. Her blue eyes fix unwaveringly on mine, then her hand comes up to cover mine as she nods slowly, and tears start to fill her eyes.

  “I promise,” she murmurs, her voice soft and breathless. “I promise, Sorsir. I never want to lose you.”

  She gives a choked sob as I gather her up in my arms again, pressing my lips to hers. But it’s a sob of happiness, of joy that we’ve found each other, that we’ve come back to each other. I can feel the last of her walls crumbling as her hands run through my hair, her fingers caressing the curving lines of my horns as I shiver under her touch.

  And then, breathless, we pull apart for a second as Autumn runs her fingers down my chest, down to my hip.

  “What’s that thing you said, when you first realized I was your… your Irisa?” she asks, glancing down at the place where her fingers are tracing the edge of my hipbone. Her gaze shifts back up to mine, dozens of emotions burning in her eyes. “Something about recognizing me.”

  I swallow hard, my chest clenching.

  “My soul has recognized yours,” I manage, the words spilling out from my lips with that same absolute certainty I had in that moment. “It’s how we claim our mates, how we let them know that we have realized the bond between us.”

  “I love you,” Autumn says suddenly, her eyes still locked on mine.

  “What?” I blink at her, slightly confused.

  “That’s what we say. On Earth.” She smiles, her mouth trembling slightly as she looks up at me. “When we recognize the one we’re supposed to be with. We say I love you.”

  My heart seems to skip a beat in my chest.

  Fear is not an emotion I’m used to. I’ve gone into every battle, every fight, with the cocksure arrogance of a warrior who thinks he can’t be beaten, that he can’t lose, that he’s invincible. But Autumn has proved to me that in matters of the heart, at least, I’m not invincible.

  And what she’s saying… I’m almost afraid to hope that she’s saying it to me, not just explaining the equivalencies of her culture.

  “Autumn, are you…” I can’t finish the sentence, can’t bear the thought that she might laugh, that she might say no.

  The smile that spreads across her face is like the sun coming out after a cloudy day. I swear I can feel the warmth of it washing over me.

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  She reaches behind her to take my hands off of her waist, threading her fingers through mine and bringing our clasped hands up to her chest as she steps closer to me. She tips her chin up, hope and tenderness filling her features.

  “I love you, Sorsir.” She hesitates, then speaks again, forming the words carefully as if testing a foreign language for the first time. “My soul has recognized yours.”

  The feeling that floods me as she speaks is indescribable.

  It’s like a lock clicking into place, the pieces of a puzzle fitting together at last. I can’t speak; a lump forms in my throat as I look down at her, unable to find the words to tell her what this means to me.

  How joyful I am.

  How complete I feel at last.

  And then they come to me, and I say them as easily as if they’ve been mine forever.

&n
bsp; “I love you, Autumn.”

  She gasps softly, a quick drawn in breath, then leans up on her tiptoes, letting go of one of my hands to encircle the back of my head and kissing me again.

  She pulls the ties of my loincloth free in one quick motion, letting it fall to the floor and leaving me entirely nude. A small, pleased smile curves her lips as she steps back, letting her gaze drift over me.

  “Now you. Let me see you,” I say softly, stepping toward her and reaching for the cord at her breasts, undoing it and the sash at her waist in a smooth motion.

  The dress falls open, framing her body between the two panels of material. I’ve learned every inch of it in the days past, from her small, slightly up-turned breasts with the rose-pink nipples that make her gasp when I toy with them, to the slender curve of her waist and flare of her hips. Her flat stomach and soft thighs. Her delicate calves and arched feet.

  I’ve kissed and touched every inch of her, seeking out every hill and valley, and the fresh knowledge that she’ll be mine forever, that I’ll have a lifetime to touch her like this, feels like the greatest gift that I’ve ever been given.

  Pushing the material gently off of her shoulders, I let the dress pool onto the tile floor. With one swift motion, I scoop her up into my arms, then carry her down the steps into the bathing pool. She laughs, burying her face in my neck.

  The sound is lighthearted and carefree, as if she’s finally let go of some of the worries that plagued her for so long.

  I love it.

  I love her.

  When I set her down in the cool water, she bites her lip as she looks at me. I reach behind her for the cloth and soap, but she pushes my hand away, shaking her head.

  “Let me.”

  Her voice is both tender and heated, and my heart beats faster as I stay motionless in the water, letting her lather up the cloth.

  As she begins to slowly run it over my chest and stomach, washing away the blood and sweat of the afternoon’s fight, I don’t move a muscle. I gaze down at her as she circles me, her hands moving over me with a gentle, soothing rhythm. It feels intimate in a way I’ve never experienced before, beyond even the intimacies of sex.

  It feels like love, like the kind of thing one would do for one’s mate, as if it solidifies the new bond between us, our new beginning.

  She skims the cloth over my hips, rinsing it out and washing away the soap from my chest and arms and back, and then as I kneel down in the bath, she runs her fingers through my hair, washing out the tangles.

  When I stand up again, she’s in front of me, and her eyes gleam wickedly as she sets the cloth aside, taking a step forward and running her hand over my hip… and then between my legs.

  I groan as her hand encircles my cock. I was rock hard from the second I undid her dress—before that, even. But the soothing motions of her bathing me relaxed me to the point of being half-erect, until she touched me. The moment her fingers wrap around my shaft, a sharp jolt of desire rushes through me. My body aches for her, my cock hard as iron in her grasp.

  Her lips curve in a smile as she begins to stroke me gently, her fingers sliding up my length before her thumb circles the tip.

  She knows exactly what she’s doing, and the idea that she wants me as much as I want her, that she’s teasing me on purpose, makes me grin.

  “Not yet,” I growl at her, my eyes narrowing mischievously.

  I grasp her hips, picking her up and setting her on the edge of the pool. Then I run my hands over her thighs, pushing them apart. She’s already aroused, her skin flushed and damp with a slick wetness that has nothing to do with being in the water. I reach between her legs, running one finger slowly over her soft flesh, and she shudders, her lips parting slightly as she looks down at me with pleading eyes.

  I could tease her, make her beg for it, and one day I plan to.

  But right now I’m more desperate for her than I have been since the first night we were together, and I think that if I go another minute without touching her, without tasting her, I might go mad.

  Leaning forward, I spread her legs farther apart before grasping her ass to pull her to the very edge of the pool. Then I bury my head between her thighs, running my tongue over her in one long, slow lick that makes her cry out. She moans helplessly as I focus in on the spot that I know will bring her over the edge faster than any other.

  I want desperately to bury myself inside of her, but I want to make her come first. I want to feel her hips grinding against my mouth, to taste her as she flies over the edge.

  It doesn’t take long.

  My tongue lashes over her, circling her clit as I gently suck at the hot, pulsing flesh, and she buries her hands in my hair. I can feel the muscles in her thighs trembling as I slide two fingers inside of her, my own lust building to a nearly unbearable point as I feel her squeeze and flutter around my fingers, drawing me deeper into her, and my cock throbs painfully with the need to be inside of her.

  Then I feel it hit her. Her back arches as the climax washes over her, and to my shock she lets go of my hair. Both of her hands grab onto my horns as her hips buck upward against my face, pulling my mouth tightly against her as she moans helplessly, her body quivering and shaking from the force of it.

  The sensation of her hands wrapped around my horns is almost too much, making my cock throb so hard I think I might come on the spot, before I’m ever inside of her.

  Krax, I can’t wait any longer. The second I feel her orgasm start to recede, I grasp her waist, moving her farther back from the edge.

  I had planned to have her in the water, but that’s not enough. I need her on her back, under me, where I can see every inch of her, where I can plunge my cock into her, where I can possess her as hard and furiously as the mating lust burning through my veins demands.

  She gasps as I push her back onto the tile, hands on either side of her head as my powerful body stretches over hers. My cock slides between her legs and nudges at the soft, heated flesh there. Her core and thighs are drenched with slick arousal, and it coats my cock as I push forward slowly.

  “Please, Sorsir,” she moans, writhing beneath me. “I can’t wait any longer. I need to feel you. Hard. Fast. Oh, fuck, please!”

  Oh, gods. My chest clenches as I realize she wants the same thing I do. She wants me to take her, to possess her, to make her mine.

  I thrust forward, my cock impaling her with one thrust. All the former gentleness that came before this is gone, the primal need flaring in us both as she spreads her legs wider, letting me drive myself forward.

  A groan spills from my lips as I feel her envelop me, hot and tight and wet, her body clenching around me as she wraps her arms around my neck and presses her mouth hard to mine.

  “Oh god, Sorsir,” she moans against my lips. “Just like that. Fuck, yes…”

  This isn’t the Autumn I first met, afraid of my touch, timid and hesitant. This isn’t the Autumn that I took gently that first night, the one who needed slow, gentle urging to allow herself to give in to her desires.

  This is simply her, unafraid and unfettered, giving herself to me unreservedly, her desire finally let loose to match mine.

  It’s the most glorious thing I’ve ever experienced. Her body is slick with water and sweat, the room around us hot and humid and almost stifling, but neither of us notices or cares. She arches herself against me, her breasts pressed tightly against my chest, and I feel her hands slide over my shoulders, down to grip my upper arms. She moans, the sound vibrating against my lips as she kisses me hard.

  And then she pulls back from the kiss. Her eyes open to meet mine, and she pushes at my chest. I hesitate for a moment, surprised that she wants to stop—and then I realize what she wants.

  I grasp her waist, letting my cock slide out of her for a moment as I roll onto my back, taking her with me as she straddles me. My cock presses against my stomach, trapped between me and her flushed, heated body.

  “My Irisa,” I groan. “You’ll be the end of me.�
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  My entire body aches with the need to be back inside of her, and my blood heats as I watch her raise up on her knees, reaching for my cock. In all the nights we spent together, she’s never done this, never been confident enough to sit astride me.

  The sight of her now, her back arched, every inch of her on display in front of me, is enough to make my whole body shudder with desire.

  She guides herself onto me until I’m fully seated inside her. Then she puts her hands on my chest and begins to move her hips.

  Oh, desh.

  I close my eyes from the sheer pleasure of it, the sensation of her hips rolling atop me, her body flexing and squeezing around me, and when I open them again, I can see her smiling, her red hair falling around her face as she begins to move faster.

  “Come for me,” I whisper as I grasp her hips, my body beginning to move in rhythm with hers. “Come for me, my wild, beautiful mate.”

  “Oh god! Oh god, Sorsir.” She moans, her hips moving faster and faster, her fingers digging into my chest as she rides me harder, forgetting everything except her need for release. The same need screaming inside of me.

  “Together. Come with me, Autumn.”

  I choke out the words, holding myself back with effort. My body aches with the need to come, but I want to see Autumn orgasm on top of me, want to flood her with my seed at the same moment with that sight to spur me on.

  As if obeying my command, she shudders, her back and arms tensing as her hips move wildly. Then she cries out, her head falling back and her back arching hard, driving herself down onto me as my fingers sink into her hips and I thrust up hard into her.

  “Sorsir!”

  The sound of my name on her lips, ragged with pleasure, combined with the sight of her writhing atop me is all I need to let go.

  I come in a blinding rush, the heat and pleasure of it enveloping me. Everything narrows down to the woman above me—the sound of her cries and the smell of her skin and the feeling of her core gripping me, hot and wet and fluttering against my swollen, hard cock.