by Anna Carven
She just wanted him inside her, wanted his thick, ridged cock buried in her wet pussy.
Something hard hit the backs of her thighs, and Seph put a hand out behind her to steady herself.
She found a polished surface. The table! Torin lay her down on her back. He loomed over her, all hard angles and sculptural planes. Lit up from below by Seph’s guide-light, his silver skin shimmered, accentuating his alienness.
Yes, he was leaner and sharper than before, but he was still beautiful.
“I want all of this off.” He ran a trembling finger down her neck, her chest, her belly, before bringing his hand to rest against the soft mound of her pussy. “Now.”
Ohh. Never before in her entire life had she wanted to get naked so fucking fast. Yep, the effect he had on her was that powerful.
Seph had dressed for the frigid temperatures of space. Her travel suit was constructed from sturdy thermocloth. It consisted of a long-sleeved coat and trousers over a stretchy undersuit. Long, calf-hugging duragard boots and flexible flight-gloves completed the picture, effectively covering her from neck to toe.
Dodging Torin’s marauding hands, she peeled off her gloves and her link-band. The link slid across the table, throwing its intense light over them before falling to the floor with a clatter. The entire room dimmed.
Torin frantically fiddled with the smooth zipper. “Too many layers,” he rasped. “I have half a mind to cut—”
The zipper opened.
Like a dancer, Seph shimmied out of the garment, throwing it to the floor. With Torin’s feverish assistance, she pulled her undershirt up over her head.
That got discarded, too.
Torin’s sharp intake of breath told her everything. Crimson eyes flashed as he took in her breasts, which were cradled by her favorite black lacy bra. She might have been forced to wear the Federation uniform, but their standard-issue bras just didn’t cut it for her double-d breasts, so she’d brought something a little more comfortable from home.
For big-busted girls like herself, vintage-style bras worked best.
Thank God I wore my sexy underwear. Well, on the top, at least.
Not that she’d expected to get laid in space, and by a Kordolian, no less.
Seph was officially swooning, panting, and hot under her now absent collar.
Torin planted a slow, searing kiss at the entrance to her cleavage, tugging at her bra straps. His lips were molten fire on her warm skin. Trying to contain her desperation, Seph reached behind and unclasped the damn thing.
Torin threw it across the room. “I like that one, but I like these better.” He cupped her breasts. Hot lips graced her pert nipple. The tip of his tongue circled her sensitive flesh, and Seph whimpered with need.
For the first time, she touched him with bare fingers, running her hands through his irresistible white hair.
Softer than synth-silk, it was the only thing about him that was soft. Everything else was honed to perfection.
His was a body made for war.
A body straight out of her wildest dreams, even when he was lean and stripped down.
Seph ran her hands down his back, feeling his rippling muscles as he moved over her, sinuous and catlike. Torin flicked her stiff nipple with his tongue, teasing it into an even greater state of arousal.
His deft hands figured out the fastening of her trousers, and he slid them down over her hips, her ass, her thighs, all the while trailing soft kisses down her belly.
For a moment, he disappeared beneath the table’s edge, and then there was gentle pressure on her calves as her boots slid off.
Those too were tossed across the room with a kind of frenetic glee, as were her pants. Cold air kissed Seph’s bare skin, and she felt the ripple of goosebumps across her thighs.
Torin resurfaced, his red eyes intense and searching and so wholly focused on her that they seemed to glow.
“I have chosen you,” he growled, saying each word slowly, deliberately, seeming to savor the moment even as he trembled with barely contained lust. Seph got the feeling he’d been waiting for this moment for a very long time. “Persephone, there is no going back. Not from me.”
“I got the feeling you might say that,” she rasped as he grabbed her thighs. With this man, it wouldn’t—couldn’t—be anything else. Right then and there, she knew she would never find another male who made her feel this way.
Seph was no bloody supermodel, but when Torin looked at her in that way, he made her feel seriously sexy.
Slowly, deliberately, he spread her legs wide. Seph’s lower legs dangled off the side of the table, her bare feet gently swaying back and forth.
If any other man in the Universe had told Seph she was their fated one-and-only, she would have run far, far away, thinking him to be some sort of psycho.
But this was Torin, and everything they did together felt so effortless, so natural, as if their souls had already met in some past life.
He ran his hands down the insides of her thighs, caressing her curves. The obsidian nails crowning his elegant fingers gleamed wickedly, and the sight of his powerful, corded arms sent a shiver of excitement through her. Capable of such brutality, yet so deliberately gentle with her, the predator had turned into a lover.
Torin’s deft fingers edged ever closer to…
“Oh, shit,” Seph whispered, looking down.
She might have been wearing her sexy vintage lace bra, but her panties were freaking dreadful. High-waisted, beige, and well… generous, she wore them because they were comfortable, because she was a goddamn Federation analyst with a job to do, and because she hadn’t planned on getting seduced by a dangerous silver-skinned alien warrior in the vast depths of space.
She hadn’t exactly dressed for the occasion.
Shik.
A featherlight touch skimmed from just below her navel to the opening of her pussy.
Riprip.
“Too. Many. Layers,” Torin rumbled, and Seph caught a glimpse of a long, dark claw as it retracted into the tip of his index finger.
Somehow, he’d managed to slice through the thin fabric of her underwear without marking her skin.
Slashed and torn, her daggy panties fell apart, and all Seph’s stupid self-conscious thoughts melted away as Torin pressed the tip of his finger against her clit.
This.
He rubbed, just a little.
Ohmygod, ohmygod. Her consciousness exploded into a million tiny fragments of pure bliss.
“Ah.” Torin smiled a secret little smile, as if he’d discovered something remarkably profound. “So that’s it.” He got up onto the table, kneeling over her with his legs spread wide, his massive erection straining.
He leaned down and slipped one finger inside her.
His touch sent a pulse of molten sensation all the way to her core. Seph writhed on the smooth surface of the table, her back becoming slick with sweat.
Sweat beaded in the valley between her exposed breasts. It coated her face and neck and shoulders. Despite the room being very, very cold, she suddenly felt very, very hot.
Torin moved his finger back and forth, stroking the roof of her pussy. His other hand was pressed against the table beside her face. Slowly, he lowered himself, capturing her gaze, performing sorcery with that talented finger of his.
Smiling.
It wasn’t a sweet smile. It was fierce, triumphant, possessive.
You’re mine now.
In a single look, that’s what he was telling her. The expression on his face could only be worn by a Kordolian. Sharp fangs glistened in the dim light, a powerful reminder of his alienness.
“Persephone…”
“Y-yes, Torin?”
“I can’t hold back any longer.” His voice cracked.
“Then why are you waiting?” Her words were a hoarse whisper.
“Just wanted to make sure you were ready.” He removed his finger from her pussy and brought it to his mouth. Slowly, sensually, he licked her glistening juices from
his finger, his savage smile widening. “You are ready.”
The way his dark lips moved made her quiver inside. Oh, how blissful it would be to feel his hot mouth down there on her…
Torin thrust inside her, filling her with his warmth and power and the glorious ridges of his magnificent cock. He threaded his fingers through her hair and kissed her deeply as he buried himself to the hilt inside her.
Seph was no longer in control of her body. She’d been reduced to a helpless mess, and for everything Torin did to her, she could only respond in kind.
He pumped his hips, grabbing the soft flesh of her thighs and her ass, his grip firm and unrelenting. His honed body moved against hers, and he fucked her again and again.
Curves against muscle, freckles against silver, softness against power, human and Kordolian. They were a study in contrasts, but together, they were whole.
Seph became lost in Torin’s driving rhythm. Harder and faster he moved, until the constant pressure on her tender clit made her draw deep, ragged breaths.
She gripped his arms, feeling the swell of his triceps as they bunched and flexed, holding on for dear life as his lovemaking became wilder and wilder.
Suddenly, his hands were on her arms, and her wrists were crossed above her head, pinned down on the table. His hands closed over hers, holding them down in an iron grip.
Really, she was powerless against this lethal Kordolian. If he wanted to restrain her, there was nothing she could do to stop him.
The way he held her now—she liked it.
A deep growl escaped his throat, and he slammed into her, taking her arousal to a completely new level. It was the feeling of his hot, smooth skin on hers. It was the primal sounds emanating from deep within his chest. It was the look on his face—pure, savage alien. It was the way he held her down and demanded her body, her pleasure, her complete undivided attention.
And the delicious tightness in her core grew and grew and grew, until…
Climax.
A hoarse cry burst from his lips as he came, and his warmth spilled over, and he pounded her again and again until every last drop of him was spent.
Satisfied, he released her wrists and looked down, his face softening for the first time.
He kissed her slowly as he gently withdrew…
And froze, his handsome features creasing into a look of acute concern.
“You… you did not…”
Unable to speak, Seph shook her head a fraction. You’re leaving me hanging here, buddy.
Such amazingly exquisite torture. The tightness was still there, her need growing unbearable, and if he didn’t do something soon, she would go certifiably insane.
“Ah.” Torin kissed her on her lips. Then he went down, and Seph whimpered as he kissed her on her other lips.
And then the tip of his tongue found her clit.
“O-ooh,” she whimpered. Torin’s hands caressed her thighs, moving up and down as he sucked her tender nub. He seemed to take particular delight in that part of her body—her thighs, her ass, her hips. He was always touching her there.
Seph thrust her fingers into his beautiful hair, crying out as he sucked her harder, harder, harder, teasing out the knot of pleasure that had formed within her core, and now Seph rose up as the tension became too much to bear, and Torin simply gripped her thighs, preventing her from squirming as he flick, flick, flicked her into total euphoria with nothing but the tip of his devilish tongue.
Oh, how she came, arching her back as the full force of the orgasm hit her. Torin released her, and she writhed around, her bare skin slick against the polished surface of the table.
“And now we are even,” Torin murmured, sounding immensely pleased with himself.
Seph lay back, closed her eyes, and let out a deep, shuddering sigh. Torin trailed kisses up her belly and her chest, tasting her. He kissed the hollow above her collarbone, kissed the delicate skin of her neck, kissed her pulse just below her jawline, kissed the secret spot below her ear, and sucked the soft petal of her earlobe.
The last shred of tension drained from Seph’s body, replaced with a warm, fuzzy glow, even as a kind of obsessive energy overtook Torin, his kisses becoming wild and frantic, his hands roaming over every inch of her before settling behind her neck.
“Now you are mine,” he whispered, holding her tightly. “I’ve been waiting for you for so long, Persephone.”
His words seemed impossible, but they also made perfect sense.
In that moment, Seph was no longer afraid. She wasn’t anxious, she wasn’t lost, and the terrible emptiness that had secretly plagued her all her life…
It was gone.
Somehow, getting betrayed, traded, and imprisoned had turned into the best thing that had ever happened to her, because she’d found this beautiful, fierce, larger-than-life being, and he was everything she never knew she wanted—until now.
But really, he’d found her, and the way he held her told Seph he was never going to let her go.
And that was just fine with her.
Chapter Seventeen
Torin would have much preferred for Seph to be naked as they searched for the food storage unit, but they were on an enemy ship, and they had to be prepared for anything. Also, the atmosphere in here was set to an ideal temperature for him, which meant it was too cold for her.
So he had to be content with watching her dress herself—minus her lower undergarments—as he lazily reclined on the table, his head propped up on one arm. Empowered by his gaze, she put on a little show for him, donning each garment with a sensual flourish.
Torin never imagined that the simple act of dressing could be so fucking sexy. Desire stirred inside him, and he suddenly wanted to grab her and take her hard against the wall.
Later, fool. They were still in a precarious situation, and really, he shouldn’t have given in to his temptation in the first place, but if he hadn’t sought release, he probably would have gone insane.
Sexual frustration could do strange things to a Kordolian male. In hindsight, Torin realized he’d experienced the stirrings of the notorious Mating Fever—irritability, headaches, increased aggression.
But now that he’d claimed Seph, he could think clearly again. Once again, his anger was suppressed, his aggression tempered.
Those emotions would always be there, simmering deep beneath the surface—they were as much a part of him as his Callidum impregnated black nanites—but at least now they were under control.
Seph slowly zipped up her grey jacket, forcing Torin to stare as the stretchy fabric curved over her breasts, accentuating their perfect roundness. Breasts, hips, ass… oh, he just couldn’t get enough of her lush body.
“You’re dangerous,” he drawled, pulling himself to a sitting position. Still naked, he slid off the table, padding toward her on bare feet.
“Says he of the First Division.” She pulled on her gloves, stretching her fingers wide. “I hardly think I’m the most dangerous thing on this ship.”
“You’re dangerous because you drive me to distraction.” He couldn’t help it; he laughed. “I have strayed so far from my mission that I’m in for a world of hurt when I get back to Earth.”
“You’ll be punished because of me? That’s not right… You saved my ass, Torin. You’re part of the Kordolian delegation on Earth, right? I’ll put in an appeal to the Federation and ask them to lobby on your beha—”
Torin’s laughter deepened. “There’s nothing the Federation can do to influence my boss. He has his own way of doing things. Don’t worry, Seph. I’m more than prepared to suffer the consequences of my indiscipline. Every single moment has been worth it.” Torin was probably going to be disciplined for this. The General’s preferred form of punishment was to get him into the training chamber and fight him personally—no swords, no guns, just claws—until they were both drained to the point of near-death, and then Akkadian would deliver the final victorious blow.
Because no matter how hard Torin tried, no ma
tter how savagely his killer’s instinct screamed at him to win, the General always had a slight edge.
It made Torin look forward to their fights, because he always desperately wanted to win; he always hoped on just one occasion, he would gain the upper hand and smash Akkadian’s imperious face into the black metal floor.
He couldn’t help it. Torin was a full-blooded Kordolian male, and that was what happened when his kind fought.
But the moment he always craved never ever came, and when they finally stepped out of the training chamber, there was always a sense that the universal order had been restored.
Really, those fights weren’t so much a punishment as a reminder. Tarak was effectively saying: I am your superior, and you will do as I say. That was fine with Torin. Akkadian was the only living creature in the entire Universe he would ever allow to order him around.
Well, maybe there was one other…
“Torin, what exactly is your game plan?” She studied him with concern in her eyes. “This business with you getting hurt and the changes to your body… don’t you need to take a break?”
“It’s nothing serious. All I need is protein.” And yes, the quickest way to restore his nanites to their resting state would be to find a dead Bartharran and eat the creature’s still-warm heart, but he could still fight for ages in his current condition, so why did he have to resort to such savagery in front of his mate? He suppressed a shudder. Unlike the others, he had a particular aversion to that custom, and his brothers gave him all kinds of shit for it.
Torin shook his head. On a whim, he dropped to his knees and picked up her boots from the floor. “Lift your foot,” he commanded, holding out his hand.
There was a hint of shyness in her smile as he took her calf into his hand and slid her boot on, taking time to appreciate this particular part of her anatomy. Seph had glorious thick legs and muscular calves, and soon they would be wrapped around him as he took her against the…
