by Alana Khan
“Our cultures are so different, Drayke. Obviously, I’ve said something wrong—”
“No, no, you’ve said nothing wrong, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He pauses, looking out at the stars as he appears to search for words. “I’ve lied to you. Well, not lied exactly, but I haven’t told you the complete truth. I can’t live with myself a moment longer. I need to explain everything. When I’m done explaining I will leave immediately, but don’t worry, I’ll ask Captain Zar to have someone escort you back to your cabin.”
He stands and walks to the front window. All I can see is his silhouette against the backdrop of black space and millions of stars. His shoulders are slumped.
“Dacians bond, as I’ve said. They bond forever, longer than life. It isn’t just an emotional connection as humans have; it is physical. When a Dacian male bonds it is a one-time thing. After that, there are no other females for him. There is only forever with his mate. If the female he bonds with does not wish the bond, that is her choice. However, because this is a physical phenomenon, the male usually goes insane after several Earth months without...consummation.”
He returns to squat next to me, his face at my level, a tight mask of grief. “The insanity is usually unremitting. It is so horrible that our Lord God Anteros allows the male to kill himself in a sacred ceremony rather than live with the pain.”
He pauses none too soon, because my mind is struggling to understand what he’s implying. He’s talking about more than a Match.com experience gone off the rails. He’s saying he could die from this.
“Okay, Drayke, I think I understand this, at least a little. If you court me and I don’t bond with you it could be horrible for you.” I pause, on overwhelm. I close my eyes, there’s so much to take in.
“I can’t promise you forever. I’ve just been released from captivity, I need time to figure things out, including basics, like who I am and what I want. I have issues with many things after what I’ve been through. One of those is trust. I’m not in a position to be making decisions about the rest of my life—and beyond.
“I certainly don’t want you to go crazy, or commit suicide. I think you’re right about getting me my own room. I like you very much. I respect you and I’m attracted to you, but I can’t promise you the future. I’m so sorry.” My heart feels heavy in my chest. I shift in my chair, ready to leave.
“I promised you the truth.” His voice is hollow, far away. He thinks for a long moment, then rushes on, “I’ve already bonded with you, Nova.” He pauses again, perhaps waiting for me to say something, but I’m completely speechless. The edges of my vision seem to blur as all of my attention focuses on him and what he’s saying.
“It’s not your fault,” he continues, “You’re a good female, Nova. I know you’ll feel guilty about this, but you did absolutely nothing wrong.”
“So, the damage is done? We can’t fix this?” My thoughts are spinning. This is so serious. My heart clenches.
“It was clear I’ve bonded with you this morning. How this happened so quickly, I don’t understand. One thing is certain—my fate is sealed.”
“There’s nothing you can do? No medications? No treatment?” He just shakes his head. “Less proximity? Could you leave the ship? Send me away?” He slowly shakes his head no, shoulders sagging.
Hot tears flood my eyes. My throat constricts. Part of my mind is fuzzy and can’t hold a thought, while another part of my mind is fast-forwarding through the rest of my life, bound to a mate I don’t love. A mate I was forced to connect with in order to save his life.
I look at him through a haze of tears. I’ve known him less than a handful of days. Yes, he’s handsome and sexy. But forever? I just escaped a life of slavery. I refuse to re-enlist.
Then I look at him—really look. His handsome face is drawn and pinched in anguish. This is a death sentence for him. He says the damage is done.
I like him, he’s a quality male. God knows, I’m more sexually attracted to him than I’ve been to anyone in my life. What would be the harm in giving this a try? Really, what have either of us got to lose?
I’m a glass half-full kind of girl. I lived through unbearable conditions as a slave—the fighting, the fear. I think this through. So we can’t fix it. The least I can do is try. I mean, I already like the guy. Maybe we were meant to bond?
I pat his chair firmly. “Feed me.”
He doesn’t move, just gazes at me, unblinking.
“I’m a male, Nova. I know I’m not a huge gladiator, but I’m as masculine as any of them. I want no pity. I’m resigned to my fate. I won’t go crazy soon. I’ll make sure your arm is healed as fully as possible before—.”
“Don’t be an asshole!” Alright, I’m screaming. Haven’t done that in a while. “Did that translate properly Dr. Drayke? I’m not stupid and I don’t pity you. I like you. We’ve already begun the courtship to some extent, that is, if what happened in my bed last night wasn’t a dream. So get your handsome ass over here and feed me dessert with your own fucking hand!”
He turns to look at me and must see my anger, then for some reason he laughs. It isn’t sardonic or ridiculing, it comes deep from his belly, it’s...joyful.
“Did you just order me to feed you? That’s rich!”
His laughter kindles my own as he sits down next to me and reaches for the farthest dish on the table.
Our laughter fades quickly as he pats his lap. I may not be quick on the uptake, but it just became clear this feeding thing is going to be about a whole lot more than nourishment.
He helps me sit on his lap, my left hip against his belly, or maybe that’s his rock-hard cock. “Nova, I’m sorry, I’ve known all day. I didn’t want to scare y—”
I kiss him, hard. I don’t want to hear any more words. I have no idea what I want, except this kiss.
Something changed in the last few minutes. He’s obviously been holding back since he met me. Well, he isn’t repressing anything anymore. He slides his hand under my hair, cupping it behind my neck, and pulls me even closer. He takes control of the kiss, his tongue flicking mine, his teeth nibbling my lower lip. This isn’t a timid exploration—he ravages my mouth.
His hand roams up and down my back. It’s as if he’s discarded any boundaries he’d arbitrarily established for himself. His hand caresses the globes of my ass, “I’m on fire for you, Nova.” His voice is intimate, barely more than a whisper. “I want you. I want to touch you everywhere, I want to make you feel good, I want to learn every ince of you. Inside and out.”
His provocative words amp up my anticipation. My nipples are hard, needy points under my shirt.
As his tongue explores my ear, he releases a sigh of longing and lust. This gives me sensuous shivers. He nips the cartilage around my ear, he’s igniting desires in me I’ve never felt before.
“Too fast, Drayke. Too much. Slow down.” I’m panting.
He sucks in air. “You’re right. I promised to feed you with my own dracking hand.” He’s smiling. He can’t take his eyes off of me. His hard cock nudges me through his pants. Sexy.
“Lean on my shoulder, Nova. Close your eyes.”
I comply. This evening, these last few days, have put me on complete overload. It would be nice to just follow directions right now. No more decisions. The hard one—to pursue this attraction—has already been made. I’ll do as he says.
I snuggle against him, aware of the warmth of his chest through his suit jacket. Then I notice something disturbingly wrong as I tune into the rhythmic beat of his heart.
“Drayke?” I try not to let my rising panic seep into my voice. I wonder if the bonding sickness is already affecting him in a life-threatening way. “Drayke, what is happening to you? Your heart?”
“Oh, no. Is it happening already?” His tone sounds tight with worry. “So soon? So tragic.”
Then the expanse of his chest rumbles with laughter. “Did you think something was terribly wrong, Nova? You’re probably hearing my two hearts.”
“You have two hearts?” My own thundering heart returns to its normal rhythm just in time for my anger to peak. “You’re such a jerk!” I slap his chest, right over his cold, hard heart—well, one of them at least. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry.” He looks contrite. “I shouldn’t tease. Sit back, close your eyes. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
Something cool and hard presses against my lips. He glides it from right to left. It’s so soft it tickles, but not in a funny way. No, it tickles in that interesting way that zips from my lips to my clit. Okay, he has my full and complete attention.
“Stick out your tongue, just the tip.” Oh my, the forceful way he said that has heat pooling between my legs. He moves the food back and forth against the tip of my tongue. I can’t quite taste it.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he orders in that husky tone. “Keep your tongue right where it is.” Then he moves his mouth directly to the shell of my ear. “I can’t help but think of that pink little tongue on my cock, Nova,” he breathes. Oh my God, I’m going to soak my panties. What he just said is so hot.
“Good girl, keep that tongue out for me,” he croons. Okay, with that deep, sexy voice giving me compliments, I’ll follow all the orders you give.
He brings the fruit back, but it’s sticky now. I think he’s dipped it into something like honey. The sweet viscous liquid drips on my tongue; he slides it along my lips. I feel the stickiness; I taste the sweetness.
“Sweet, like you, Nova.” He scrapes my cheek with his teeth. He’s setting me on fire. This is incendiary! My nipples are desperate for touch. I hear my own breath quicken with a little gasp. Then he leans over and licks the honey off my lips. Slow, deliberate movements that command my complete attention. Dear Lord, I could never have imagined anything this sensual in my wildest dreams. My clit is pulsing. I think I can smell my own arousal.
“One day, if you let me,” his voice is soft and deep, like he’s sharing a secret, “I want to drip dulce between your legs. I want to lick it off. Today I’ll settle for licking the sweetness off these lips.” He drizzles more dulce on my upturned lips, then uses just the tip of his tongue to clean them off. “I’ll lap up every drop,” his tone is low and breathy. “I’ll lap up every drop and clean you very well down below.”
Just kill me now. My inner walls clench in pulsing rhythm. This level of excitement is almost more than I can bear, but I absolutely positively do not want it to stop.
“Take a bite,” he orders.
I do as I’m told. It tastes like apples and honey.
“You’re a good girl, Nova,” he murmurs, encouraging my behavior. “Keep your eyes closed and be a nice female and lick this dulce off of me.” He leans down, his lips covered in dulce. I am a good girl, I lick his lips clean. “Yes, very good,” he praises
“Tell me what you want, Nova. Tell me what you want right now. I will do my best to provide it for you.”
He’s not asking if I want a house in the Hamptons or a color TV. He’s asking what I want him to do to my body. He wants to “provide” for me. My body is screaming ideas at me. My nipples are taut, begging to be touched, rolled, and scraped with his hard, flat teeth. My core stopped screaming some time ago. It’s ready to beg, already weeping with slick wetness. He already promised to lick down there. Oh, I think that would be heavenly.
“I can’t think. I can’t make up my mind. You decide, Drayke. Please.”
There are two things I don’t understand. One is, who is this Nova who has abdicated all responsibility and wants, no, desires this male to make all her decisions? The other is, who is the male who has ramped up from Mr. Nice Guy to the most Alpha male I’ve ever met?
I decide I don’t give a crap. I like us both just the way we are right now.
He pulls my t-shirt up, exposing my breasts. I hear a harsh exhalation of air. “Beautiful, Nova. So beautiful. I think my bonding process may have started when I saw you in the arena. Maybe it was because these are so magnificent. Ask for what you want. Tell me.”
Why is he making me do this? “Please? Touch me.” And he does. He wastes no time. First his fingers, those delicate, talented surgeon’s fingers, pluck the tips of my breasts. Tweaking and then twirling until I can hardly bear it. I’m squirming in his lap. Can someone die from desire? I’m dying.
“What now? Tell me.”
“Teeth.” It’s barely a whisper.
His teeth are nipping me, scraping me. Exquisite pleasure right on the razor’s edge of pain. I’m certain his lap is wet from my desire even though I still have my panties and leggings on. I can’t think. This feels too good. My pelvis began thrusting minutes ago. I’ve created a rhythm. I want pressure.
He lifts his mouth to my ear, just breathing; his fingers replace his teeth on my nipples. I’m in agony. Sweet, delicious, mind-blowing agony.
“What now? Tell me,” he demands. He loves this control. So do I.
I’ve been naked in front of hundreds, maybe thousands of beings at a time in the arena, but I’m shy here with Drayke. I take his hand and place it right where I want it. The heel of his hand pressing on my clit, his fingers trailing downward, on top of my core.
“Words, Nova. Tell me.”
“I want to come, Drayke. Make me come.”
The heel of his hand strikes up a circular rhythm that I immediately match with my hips. I open myself to him more fully, scooting the table away with my knee. My head leans back against his shoulder, my lips part as I begin to pant.
“Dr. Drayke, Shadow, and Petra,” Zar’s voice interrupts harshly through the overhead speaker, “could you please come to the bridge?”
We both groan. I’m in physical pain, I assume we both are. My mind is still in a haze. I’m actually waiting for Drayke to tell me to open my eyes. He leans down and kisses me sweetly. He folds me in his arms and rocks me for a moment, so tenderly.
“It’s for the best, Nova. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...taken far too many liberties. Open your eyes sweet one.”
I grasp his chin with my hand, making certain he sees the gravity in my expression. “That was the best hour of my life, Drayke. Never apologize for that.”
Pulling my shirt down over my hardened nipples, I watch as Drayke reaches inside his pants to rearrange his hard-on. He’s not shy; those cobalt eyes are staring at me with an expression of blatant, almost animal, desire as he rearranges his cock.
I don’t want to leave. “Fuck you, Zar.” I shout at the comm in the ceiling, assuming it’s off.
“Yes, fock you, Zar.” Drayke imitates my curse word as he laughs and shakes his fist in the air. I like this new Drayke. I like him best when he lets down his guard and doesn’t have to be the perfect professional.
“Walk or be carried? Are you tired?” He’s nothing if not solicitous.
“I’m a ball of horny nerve endings, Drayke. I’m on fire for you. Tired? No.”
He smiles and reaches for my hand.
On our way to the bridge, he explains that at this point in his bonding it will become harder for him when he’s not in close proximity to me.
“It will be difficult to leave you alone in medbay or even your cabin. I may start growling. I’ll lose my temper. I’ll be in even more pain than I am right now.” He stops for a moment, pulls me to face him, and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Because of what just happened in the solarium...my instincts are so filled with possessive lust…” He swallows and takes a breath, obviously having trouble even using that word in reference to himself. “I’m hoping to bring you with me, keep you close. Is that okay?”
My arousal spirals downward as an insistent voice in the back of my mind pesters me with questions. Am I making the right choice? Am I choosing to go down a road that will only lead to heartache? Did I leave one form of slavery to exchange it for another?
He’s told me I can stop this process at any time I choose. This isn’t slavery if I have choices. Right now, this moment, I choose to follow where my heart
leads me. I can always stop this courtship if I want to.
“Yes, I’ll join you on the bridge.”
His close-lipped smile is radiant.
Chapter Seven
Dr. Drayke sun Omrun
We enter the bridge to quizzical looks. I owe no one an explanation as to why Nova is with me, but I’ll give one if pressed. Captain Zar is here, as well as Axxios the golden-skinned pilot, Callista on comms, Shadow, and his mate, Petra.
I sit on one of the large, padded crew chairs and pull Nova into my lap. I glare at every male in the room, each one in turn, daring them to comment.
“Thanks for coming,” Zar says with a questioning look at Nova. “What we need to discuss is... confidential.”
“I’m not leaving Nova alone. Let’s proceed.” I use my haughty doctor voice combined with a drack-you glare designed to shut this line of conversation down. I glance out the floor-to-ceiling windows that ring eighty percent of the bullet-shaped room and give the appearance of calm, waiting for the captain to resume.
Zar’s eyebrows rise in silent question, then he begins. “All right. Callista has been monitoring communications throughout the galaxy. She’s been invaluable in avoiding not one but two MarZan cartel ships that were searching for us. Although we changed our name to the Lazy Slacker after our run-in with those pirates, I’m still not sure our call letters are safe.
“Recently she reported some space chatter between two of their vessels. This information was of great importance to Axxios.” Zar looks at Axxios, indicating he should proceed with the story.
Axxios’s heavily muscled neck slopes directly to his shoulders in thick cords. His skin is gold. He always carries himself like he was a king on his home planet, but he never talks about his past.
“I was enslaved and forced to fight in the gladiator arenas after losing a battle to my people's enemies in deep space.” Axxios continues, “My twin brother and I were captaining two of the best ships in the Mythrian fleet. We were attacked by ten enemy vessels. Both of our ships sustained massive casualties. I saw his ship suffer a direct hit.
