by Sara Page
“Yes, Commander Striker,” Beast responds.
Striker eyes the two of us with a frown. I stiffen, afraid he’s going to remark on this and we’ll have to have it out, but he just shrugs his shoulder and rolls back over with a grunt.
Well, then. I guess that’s that.
Beast turns away from the bed and carries me to my bathroom. After stepping in and flipping on the light, he frowns, searching for a tub.
“Sorry,” I apologize. “All I have is a shower.”
Setting me gently down to my feet, he asks, “How can you live like this?”
I shrug and smirk at him. “I had this bathroom remodeled when I turned sixteen. I decided to sacrifice the tub for a bigger vanity.”
Beast looks at me with such horror I can’t help but laugh.
“Oh, come on,” I tell him and walk over to the shower. So far he hasn’t brought up what Striker and I did so I want to keep him from thinking of it. I twist the knobs and sense him moving behind me as I adjust the water. “We’ve taken showers together before.”
“Only when we’re rushed,” he grumbles. “Come here.”
I turn and Beast pulls me back into his arms. While I was messing with the shower, he removed his shirt. I stroke my fingers across his silky purple skin, tracing the outlines of his pecs, and he purrs.
“How do you feel?” he asks and his fingers bump up my chin so that I tip my head back and look up at him.
My eyes lift and I offer a small smile. “I feel fine.”
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” he asks.
I almost choke on my own spit and quickly shake my head no. Oh, hell no. I can’t even go there right now.
“Did he hurt you?” Beast asks, his dark lips twitching as if they want to pull into a snarl. He tips my head to the side and his fingers stroke across a spot on my neck. It feels tender, it’s probably bruised.
I sigh and admit, “Only a little.”
Beast growls so viciously the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. “I heard his death was quick and painless. Much more than the vermin deserved.”
Huh? What? I thought we were talking about Striker.
“If I could bring him back, I’d rip him limb from limb,” Beast says as his hands rub down my shoulders. “I’d feed him his own entrails.”
Okay, now I’m really lost. I have to ask, “Who?”
And then I realize who he’s talking about just as he answers, “Vrillum.”
Fuck. I had forgotten. I sag against Beast as I remember.
“I shouldn’t have left you.”
“No,” I shake my head and look up at him. “I’m glad you did.”
I can’t resent Beast for leaving me, even if at the time I wanted to. We made the best decision, and thankfully it worked out. Well, at least for us. “If you wouldn’t have left, my father would still be suffering.”
“Yes, but I could have taken you with me.” Beast strokes back my hair and pulls me closer by the ears. He looks deep into my eyes as he confesses. “As soon as I left you, I regretted it. I feared for you, and I knew you were in danger. I almost turned back.”
“And still I must say I’m glad you didn’t.”
“Truly?” Beast asks, cocking his head.
“Truly,” I confirm and lift up on my tiptoes before kissing him to prove it. “Thank you, Beast,” I say then press my lips against his lips. “Thank you,” I say over and over, each time planting another kiss.
“Ameia,” he growls and tips me back. He deepens the kiss, drinking from my lips while his hands hold me tightly by the hair.
“I’ll never be able to thank you enough,” I gasp as he finally breaks the kiss. He presses his cheek against the top of my head and hugs me tight. “You’ve done so much for me.”
“I almost lost you,” he shudders. “It was too damn close.”
“I’m still here,” I say, squeezing him back. “And so are you.”
“Yes,” Beast agrees and pushes me away far enough to roam his gaze over my body. “We are still here and I wish to have a look at you. I need to see with my own eyes that you are unharmed. Remove your shift.”
Wow. I’m not sure he could have made that any less sexy if he tried. I look him over, following the ridges of his eight-pack and the V of his groin until it disappears beneath his black waistband.
“Remove your pants,” I counter.
Beast grins and with a flick of his fingers his pants drop, along with my jaw. He’s just so damn magnificent. All of him. He’s covered from head to toe in thick corded muscles that I just want to squeeze. And lick.
“Your turn, my princess.”
I pick my jaw off the floor, and yes I’m blushing especially because Beast is watching me eagerly. I grab the bottom of my shift, amazingly it never came off during all that stuff Striker and I did, and pull it over my head. Before it drops to the floor, Beast is scooping me up and pulling me into the shower.
“Your shower is tiny,” Beast grumbles while sliding me down to my feet. His back shields me from the spray of water.
“Yeah, the vanity was more important,” I laugh at him. “And I never thought I’d be sharing it with a giant purple alien.”
It’s definitely a tight fit in here. Beast scowls as he tries to turn but his shoulders are almost as wide as the walls. I sure hope he doesn’t get stuck.
“When we return to Blackspire, I’m going to have all the showers removed,” he says so casually as he spots the soap and grabs it up.
“Oh?” I ask, my stomach sinking with dread. “You’re returning to Blackspire?”
Duh Ameia, of course he wants to go home.
“We’ll return when you’re ready.”
I frown, then Beast frowns. “Oh, I…”
I don’t even know what to say so I just stop and bite my lip. Does Beast think I can leave Terrea? Did I even tell him I’m to inherit the crown and it’s my duty to rule here?
Beast sighs. “It does not matter right now. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
He reaches out, grabbing my arm and lifting it up. I continue to chew and bite my lip. Now that he’s brought it up, how can I not think about it?
I was hoping that perhaps Beast would like to remain here with me. I know he’s a prince, but he must not be a ruling prince. He’s never talked about returning to Blackspire before. But then again, I haven’t asked about it either.
“What is Blackspire like?” I ask as he works the soap into a lather and rubs it up and down my arm. “Is it like here?”
“No,” he frowns and shakes his head. He looks through me as if it’s not me he’s seeing.
“Well?” I ask, prodding his hand when he doesn’t answer.
His frown only grows. “Blackspire is beautiful but wicked. There has been much devastation since the war.”
And that tells me absolutely nothing. But he’s frowning so deeply now, I wish I hadn’t even asked.
“Hey,” I say, reaching up to brush my fingers across his cheek. “Are you okay?”
Beast captures my hand before I can pull it back and sweetly kisses my knuckles. “Yes.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He shakes his head and I don’t push. I can totally understand not wanting to talk about certain stuff right now.
“Do you want me to wash your back?” I ask, trying to lighten him up.
“No,” he answers but the glint returns to his eyes. “I still want to have a look at you.’
“I’m okay,” I say and sweep my hand down my body. “See, nothing wrong with me.”
Though I did take a few blows to the head. I could have sworn I had a gash and a lump or two.
“Hmm,” Beast rumbles and pulls me closer. “Does this hurt?” he asks me before boldly covering my breasts with his great big purple hands.
I gasp in surprise, jolted as his calloused palms touch me. Should I answer him honestly or milk it for a bit? His eyes are gleaming and his lips are curling. His hands squeeze and I g
asp again.
I think he wants to play.
“Now that you mention it, they are a little sore.” I squirm.
“Does this feel better?” he asks and his fingers constrict around me, squeezing me until I feel weak in the knees. If he keeps this up I’m going to fall on my ass.
“Oh, yes,” I release with a shaky breath. “Maybe you should kiss them.”
By the breasts, Beast pushes me back until I’m leaning into the corner.
“Will kissing them make them feel better?” he asks as his hands mold and work my breasts in his hands.
I shudder and I swear it feels like a zap each time the rough skin of his palms scrape against my nipples. “Couldn’t hurt,” I croak.
Beast chuckles and sinks to his knees. Angled like this, facing the corner, he can move around better.
Releasing one breast, he gives the other a good squeeze before leaning close and lapping at my nipple with the flat of his tongue. He’s so hot and so wet, and I swear his tongue vibrates a little.
Back and forth, he pays each breast equal attention, as if between the two of them he can’t pick a favorite. Then his hands drop to my waist and he’s squeezing my hips while sucking the whole of my nipple into his mouth.
He groans deep in his throat and in return something deep inside me quivers and tightens. The world wavers, the shower is filling with steam from the hot spray of water we’re not using. I squeeze my eyes shut and grab at his shoulders, kneading them and moaning as he has his fill.
Pulling back until I pop out of his mouth, Beast growls, “Mine.”
His hands knead me, squeezing me, supporting me. They’re the only things between me and the floor.
“You are mine, Ameia,” he goes on. “Never forget because I’m never letting you go.”
Down his hands stroke. Covering my belly, lingering for a long moment before continuing on. My legs spread of their own accord, my feet slipping too easily over the slick floor. He leans close, his breath puffing against my breast again. “Ameia,” he growls. “If I lose you, I’ll lose myself.”
Before I can respond, before I can tell him that he is mine as well, he sucks my nipple into his mouth while his fingers find my clit.
“Oh, fuck,” I cry out, my head falling back. I know for certain his tongue is vibrating now. It’s vibrating as he’s licking me. It’s vibrating as his fingers press and swirl. One lap then two. I can’t hold back. I come hard and he’s moans, pulling back a hard suckle.
“Beast,” I cry out, saying his name over and over because I’m mindless and it’s the only word I know.
“Mine,” he continues to growl, his tongue swirling, his mouth drinking from me as if he’s a man dying of thirst.
My body gives one last trembling shudder and I squeal as he pinches me, my body jerking with the jolt.
I feel him chuckle and his dark head pops up.
“Feel better?” he asks and I release a breathy laugh.
“Yes, much better,” I grin at him.
“Good,” he says, pushing me back against the corner walls while he stands up. “I’d hate to feel like I was taking advantage of you while you’re injured.”
“Oh?” I say and incline my head. “How so?”
“Because I’ve been wanting to do this since the moment I’ve returned,” he answers while he grabs me by the thigh and lifts my leg.
“Do what?” I blink at him, still playing innocent, and he grins.
“This,” he grunts and he thrusts forward, impaling me on his cock.
I can’t answer with an actual word as he fills me, just this weak whimpering moan. Thank the stars I was soaking wet before he impaled me, because if I wasn’t he might have split me in two.
“Ameia, wrap your legs around me,” he orders and I struggle to make my legs do what they’re told. Beast ends up helping me, my body shifting as he draws my legs up.
My sex clenches around his cock and he grunts, then he helps me lock my legs around him, crossing them at my ankles.
“Hold on to me, love,” he tells me and takes a moment to tenderly nuzzle against my throat.
I place my hands on his slick shoulders just as he grabs up two big handfuls of my ass. He uses my own butt to lift me up, then slams me back down. He shudders and I moan.
Up and down he slams me onto his cock, and surprisingly it’s not rough. In fact, it feels like he’s doing it as gently as possible.
I feel the tension in his shoulders as the muscles in his arms work to lift me up. Then they relax and he lets gravity do the rest of the work.
I fall down with a wet smack, my cries joining with his groans.
It feels like hours that we join like that, slipping and sliding all over each other. Clinging tight, finding it difficult to hold on, but neither one of us willing to let go.
The pressure inside me is a slow build, but eventually I do reach the heights of my climax. I squeeze my eyes shut and he growls as if he’s pleased, murmuring encouragement into my neck while I explode. A few moments after I quiver, and while the walls of my sex still spasm around him, he drops his head and grunts erratically. I’m super-sensitive and can feel his cock twitching inside me. I’m so hot, yet I can feel him pumping me full of his warmth.
“Ameia,” he says tenderly as we pant, catching our breath together. He grabs me by the face, forcing me to look at him. “I love you.”
“Beast,” I say, and it feels like I can’t catch my breath, and I know it’s not from the sex. “Drek, I love you too.”
Chapter Twenty-One
After drying off and dressing together, Beast and I exit my bathroom to find my bedroom empty.
“Where’s Striker?” I ask, hoping he’s not stalking around the palace, frightening off what few servants haven’t been scared off yet.
“We’re taking shifts staying with your father. It’s his shift.”
Oh? That’s actually very sweet of them. It feels good knowing my father has them to protect him.
“Are you tired?” Beast asks and I shake my head.
“Are you?” I ask and he shakes his head.
“How much longer do you think it will take?” My sense of time has been seriously screwed up. It’s dark now but I have no clue what time it is.
“At least another rotation.”
That’s a lot of time to kill.
“Come with me,” I tell him and take his hand, leading him to my balcony doors. I let go of his hand just long enough to twist open both antique handles then pull him out, leading him into the night.
Now this feels like home. My personal little sanctuary. The breeze is soft, pulling at my damp curls and carrying the scent of my father’s roses. I let go of Beast and walk up to the stone railing of the balcony, grabbing hold and leaning over it. We’re only a few feet off the ground, otherwise I would never be able to do such a thing. Heights still make me feel incredibly dizzy but there’s enough railing to make me feel safe.
The palace gardens are dark, shrouded by night, and now that I know what kind of things lurk in the shadows, they feel a little foreboding. I tip my head back and gaze at the sky, focusing on the glittering stars instead. Up there, unlike that time in the tree, I can recognize all the constellations.
Beast appears at my side and I feel myself leaning towards him, my body drawn to him as if his presence is a magnet, pulling me in.
I’m home, finally home. It doesn’t feel like I expected it would, it’s bittersweet. Sweet because this is all I wanted, to be home, to be safe, and to have Beast here with me. Bitter because I know it can’t last. I’m afraid he means to leave me or ask me to go to Blackspire with him.
I can’t go to Blackspire. Now that I’m here, how could I ever leave? There are things expected of me. Responsibilities I just can’t walk away from.
But not yet. We still have this time, he’s still here with me. I just want to be here, with him, in this moment.
“How did you end up on that planet?” I ask, leaning into his side as he wraps
his arm around me. “Did you really steal that ship?”
“I did steal that ship,” Beast rumbles with amusement. “It was my father’s own personal pleasure cruiser.”
“You stole your father’s ship? Why?”
“I often snuck off in his ship to get away. It was the only time I could have some peace.”
I nod my head, understanding the need for that. “How did you crash?”
Beast shrugs his shoulders. “I put the ship on auto and took a nap. When I awoke, the alarms were sounding, warning that impact was imminent. When I checked the ship after I crashed, I believe I must have hit a dust cloud during my nap. It was lucky I survived.”
He survived. I hate to even think that he had to survive something.
“How long were you stuck there?”
“For more than one hundred rotations.”
My eyes widen in horror and I squeeze him tightly. One hundred days? I was stuck there for like a week.
“What are the odds?” I ask as he returns my squeeze. “That the both of us crashed into that planet?”
Whatever the odds are they must be enormous.
“Odds have nothings to do with it, Ameia. We were meant to be,” he assures me and kisses the top of my head.
I almost believe it, almost. I’d like to believe destiny, if it does exist, wouldn’t be so cruel as to give him to me only to take him back.
* * *
“Your father is ready to receive you, Ameia,” Beast informs me as he strides into my bedroom.
I’ve been to visit and check on my father’s progress several times over the past twenty-four hours. Though I wasn’t there to witness it, I was informed he emerged from the Medibay completely recovered, and needed some time to get himself in order before receiving visitors. I, of course, am the first visitor he is willing to accept.
I straighten my tiara on top of my head and resist the urge to run back to my bathroom and check my appearance. I’ve been impatiently waiting for this moment, going crazy by stalking around my bedroom and when not doing that, critically examining my reflection.
“How do I look?” I ask.
Striker groans, he’s probably sick of me asking by now.
