Claimed

by Presley Hall

  I’ve never wanted to do the things to anyone that I did to him. I’ve never craved the taste of someone, never wanted to give a blowjob quite the way I did to Tordax earlier. But when I saw him in the shower, desperately stroking himself to a climax in a masculine echo of what I’d done just a little while earlier before I fell asleep, I was overcome with the desire to have him in my mouth, to bring him that pleasure and feel him come for me.

  And he reciprocated in kind, then gave me yet another orgasm before the end of it. He isn’t a man who withholds pleasure, that’s for certain.

  And what I saw in his eyes…

  That, mixed with his vulnerability and the things that he confessed to me, have me wondering if I’ve got this all wrong. If the mate bond, the thing that I laughed off as ridiculous, might be real after all. Is it true? Has some cosmic force bound me to him, made me his Irisa?

  I could blame simple sex-deprivation and hormones, some chemical attraction sparking to life between the two of us. After all, I’ve never met any man as handsome and virile as Tordax, and most definitely not one who desired me in return with the same ferocity. That in and of itself would be a powerful aphrodisiac.

  But then… if that were the case, wouldn’t the orgasms take the edge off, not make my craving stronger?

  He’s made me come more than a handful of times now, climaxes better than any I’ve had with someone else or even by myself. And I still want him more than ever. I feel more tightly bound to him than before, and I can’t think of any other explanation for the way I’m beginning to feel.

  The things he told me in the shower, about his parents and what protecting his people means to him… it makes me respect him. Since I’ve known him, he’s shown restraint and leadership, the ability to be vulnerable despite a lifetime of war, and softness that I would never have expected, not to mention an attentiveness to my pleasure and happiness that I haven’t experienced from any other man.

  If we were on earth, and he were an ordinary man, he would be exactly what I’ve spent my whole life looking for.

  So why, I wonder as I glance over at the sleeping man beside me, am I fighting so hard against what my heart clearly wants?

  When I wake the next morning, Tordax is already up and gone.

  I feel the familiar ache in my chest, and it only makes me think again of the night before, and the questions that I can’t seem to find an answer to. I want him, it’s clear. I’m beginning to care deeply for him, that’s clear too. I respect him. So why the hell am I fighting so hard to push him away?

  Tordax mentioned that he and the other men train in the mornings. Curious, I wander through the hallways until I find the path that leads to the arena where the revolt happened on my first day here, now simply the site where the warriors work on training exercises. I hear the shouts and clashes of practice weapons as I approach, and I walk down to the lower levels, on the edge of the arena.

  Tordax is in the ring with one of the other warriors, a Kalixian slightly smaller than he is but equally muscular, with large curving horns that are black as obsidian. He is fighting Tordax’s twin practice blades with a quarterstaff, blocking each of his strikes easily as the men whirl and spin, hands and feet moving in a blur.

  Without the terror of that first day blinding me, I’m able to watch the fighting with a new sense of appreciation. It’s awe-inspiring, honestly. The men fight with a ferocity that I’ve never seen, almost feral in its intensity, but the movements are also calculated.

  I realize with a start that this is part of my attraction to Tordax. The juxtaposition of his warrior’s violence with the gentleness he shows me when we’re alone. He’s a beast of a man, but also tender and caring.

  I’ve seen him fight before, but this is better. I’m able to watch and appreciate the movements of his body, the flex of his muscles under his tattooed skin, the fluid way he moves around the other warrior, finding the gaps in his defense and striking, knocking the other man’s quarterstaff aside.

  Desire floods through me as I watch him, thinking of those hands on my body, that muscled chest hovering over mine as he moves between my legs. What we did last night could only be the beginning, I think, imagining him coming from the arena sweaty and victorious, scooping me up and carrying me back to his quarters ready to claim his victor’s prize…

  As arousal washes over me, I see him momentarily freeze, his head moving toward me as he seems to react to my presence, realizing I’m there—and probably, I realize with a flush of embarrassment, how turned on I am.

  That moment of distraction is his undoing.

  The other warrior takes full advantage of the opening and lunges forward, taking Tordax down. Tordax falls heavily onto his back, momentarily sprawling on the arena floor, and the other male’s bladed quarterstaff grazes his bare chest. It’s dulled for practice but blood still trickles from the cut, and my heart stutters in my own chest.

  For a second, it feels like I can’t breathe.

  A rush of fury and protectiveness like I’ve never known for anyone else sweeps through me like wildfire.

  My body is moving before my brain catches up; I don’t even think about what I’m doing. I’m nothing against one of these warriors, a fly, smaller and more frail than they are by miles. But I fling myself into the arena without thought, fear and anger exploding inside of me as I race across the arena toward Tordax and throw myself in front of him, heedless of the fact that the other warrior towers over me, blade still in hand, poised to strike another blow.

  “Leave him alone!” I scream, planting myself in front of Tordax’s prone body, eyes wide and furious. “Get away from him!”

  20

  Tordax

  Tycran would never have actually hurt me.

  The men—all of us—spar like this regularly, hard and aggressively, in order to stay sharp for battle. We’ve perfected the art of fighting to the point of injury but no further, simulating battle without actually hurting one another. Tycran is a skilled gladiator and a man of honor, and he would die rather than harm me in practice combat.

  But there’s no way for Rose to know that.

  She’s never seen Kalixian warriors train, and when I consider the events from her perspective, I can see how the sight of Tycran taking me down, combined with the strength of our bond, convinced her that I was actually in danger.

  Seeing her standing there in the middle of the arena, facing down a member of my force fearlessly, sparks something inside of me. If there were any doubts in my mind about our bond, any question as to whether she truly is my Irisa, they’re gone in a flash. A fire rises up in me like I’ve never known, and I scramble to my feet, striding across the arena toward her.

  “Rose,” I call out, my voice deep and hoarse, and she wheels to face me, her eyes still flashing with defiance.

  I see Tycran out of the corner of my eye, staring at us with astonishment, but I don’t care. My thoughts are only of the woman in front of me. Rose is running toward me now, and the moment she’s within reach, I grasp her waist, lifting her into the air. Her legs go around my waist without a thought, her hands in my hair as I tilt my chin up to kiss her, and her mouth crashes down on mine.

  There’s only one thing I can think of. One word that keeps pounding against my ribs in time to the heavy beat of my heart.

  Mine.

  Mine.

  Mine.

  My arms wrap around her fiercely, and I stumble toward the holding area at the far end of the arena, the room where my men and I were kept before that first gladiator fight. I carry her there with ease, kicking the door open and then shut behind us, and I’ve barely set her down before my hands are tearing at her shirt, pulling it off of her as she reaches for the buckles of my shoulder armor.

  “No,” I say gruffly, yanking open the button of her pants. “I need you now, Rose. Don’t bother with it.”

  She kisses me in response, and her hands run through my hair as her tongue slides into my mouth, tangling with mine as her fingers trace
the edges of my horns, and I groan aloud, yanking her cargo pants down as I back her toward a wide bench, wide enough for her to lay down on.

  This isn’t where I planned for us to consummate our bond for the first time, but I can’t wait another second. I’m burning with need, desperate to bury myself inside of her, and there’s nothing that could stop me now, outside of her telling me no. The entire Kalixian army—and the Orkun too—could walk through that door, and I’d ignore them all while I plunged myself into Rose’s willing body.

  And she is willing. More than willing.

  Her hands are all over me, running down the smooth muscle of my chest, over my waist, and she moans against my lips as I shove my loincloth aside, lifting her up and laying her back on the bench.

  Gods, she’s wet. I feel it slick on her thigh as the tip of my cock rubs against her soft flesh there, and I realize how close I am to making this real, to binding us together forever. I pull back a fraction of an inch and look down into her wide, pleading eyes, and I ask her once, hoarsely, the words tearing from my lips as I desperately hope she says yes.

  “Rose, is this what you want?”

  “Yes,” she moans, and relief so strong it makes me feel dizzy washes over me. “I want you, Tordax.” She drags my mouth back down to hers as her legs part, her hips rising up as her back arches and she presses herself against me. “I want you inside of me. Please…”

  Those words inflame me in a way I never knew possible. I feel lust pulsing through me, so strongly that for a moment I wonder if I’ll even make it inside of her. I’m harder than I’ve ever been in my life, aching for her, and I reach down, the swollen tip of my cock pressing against her soft, wet entrance as I rock my hips gently forward.

  The pleasure is so great that I have to stop for a moment, an inch of my cock buried in her as she squirms beneath me, moaning against my mouth as her hips grind upward, seeking out more.

  And I can’t stop. However much I want to savor the moment, my body is demanding more, taking the reins of control away from me. It’s all I can do not to plunge every inch of my length inside of her at once, to take her fully and completely, but I want her to enjoy this. And more than that, I want her to beg for it again later, to crave me over and over again.

  I break the kiss, looking down at her face as I push forward inch by inch. The sensation of her wet, velvety heat clasping my cock makes me dizzy with pleasure. But I focus on her face, on her wide eyes, on her expression of ecstasy as I fill her, and she throws her head back, her fingers digging into my shoulders as she cries out again.

  Krax. My name on her lips is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.

  And then I’m there, buried to the hilt inside of her, and I hold myself steady for a second, wanting to remember this moment.

  The first time with my Irisa, my mate, the woman I plan to be with forever.

  The only woman I will ever love.

  “Tordax, please, I need…” she gasps out, unable to find the words for what it is. But I know. I bend my head and kiss her deeply, my hair falling around her face, breathing in the scent of her as I begin to thrust, each stroke bringing me closer and closer to possessing her entirely. I’m on the edge already, my body trembling with the need to come, but not yet. Not until I bring her to a shattering climax first, not until I feel her body clench and tremble around my cock.

  Then, and only then, I’ll take my own pleasure.

  Once I’ve given her hers.

  21

  Rose

  I’ve never heard any man make a sound like the groan that came from Tordax’s mouth when he pressed himself against me.

  From the moment I turned and saw him get to his feet in the arena, I knew there was no more fighting this, no more going back. I don’t understand it, not yet, but I’m meant to be his, in some mysterious way that maybe I’ll grasp eventually. I’m not even sure I’m ready to tell him that I’ll be his, that I’ll stay with him. But I know one thing for certain—I can’t deny my body’s reaction to him any longer.

  I ran to him, knowing what would come next and wanting it more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. And once he took me behind the arena… there was no way I was stopping. The tension between us had reached a breaking point, and I was ready to see it through no matter what fears or doubts still lingered. If I left without doing this, I’d always wonder what it might have been like for us.

  I had to know.

  And yet, as desperate as he was, as strongly as I could feel the need coursing through him, Tordax still asked me one last time if I was sure. That was the moment I realized he truly is the kind of man I could love. The kind I’ve been waiting my whole life for.

  Feeling him bury himself inside me was like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. With that first thrust, every concept I ever had of sex was shattered.

  He’s so big that my body has to stretch to accommodate him, the feeling of fullness riding the line between pleasure and pain. My eyes widen at the sensation as he rocks his hips forward so that I can feel his cock—really feel all of it, and I clutch his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as my back arches and my head falls back, my body beginning to move without thinking beneath his as he thrusts.

  Holy fuck. I don’t know if I’ll even survive this. I’ve never had what one might call good sex, but I always figured it was decent. I came most of the time—sort of. Mostly by myself, afterward, daydreaming about the kind of man I wished I could find.

  A man like Tordax.

  Now, as he thrusts inside of me, drawing all of that hard, throbbing length out of me and plunging back into my wet, willing body, I realize that whatever I’ve done before this, it can’t possibly compare. I’ve never felt pleasure like this. It’s almost too much to bear, and just when I think I can’t, he drives into me with another long, hard stroke, and I realize my body is building toward an orgasm.

  It can’t possibly be better than the ones he gave me with his mouth, nothing could…

  But it feels as if it might.

  I claw at his shoulders, writhing beneath him as I moan and gasp, my sounds turning to loud, full-throated cries as he moves faster.

  “Please, Tordax,” I beg him, not entirely sure what I’m asking for but knowing that I need it more than I’ve ever needed anything. “I need…”

  His eyes gleam wickedly down at me as he thrusts again, burying himself in me and rocking his hips against mine so that the hard, swollen tip of his cock rubs against a spot deep inside of me that I never knew was there. Fresh shocks of pleasure ripple through me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge of the waiting climax. I can feel how hard his muscles are, how his body is trembling under my hands, and I know he’s holding himself back with all of his strength.

  “You’re about to come,” I whisper, looking up at him, and he smiles fiercely, shaking his head as he slides almost entirely out of me with a groan, his head tipping back for a moment as he feels me flutter and squeeze around him, my body desperate to keep him inside of me. He moves forward again, excruciatingly slowly, and his eyes are full of promise.

  “Not until you do,” he murmurs, dropping his lips close to my ear as he thrusts again, harder this time. “I want to feel you come on my cock, Rose. I want to hear you scream as I make you come harder than you ever have before. And then, then I’ll come for you.”

  His words are ragged, groaning in my ear as he moves, and that’s the thing that sends me over the edge—the sound of Tordax’s growling voice whispering to me how he wants to make me scream, how that will get him off. He’s thrusting hard now, his cock pounding into me as he reaches down, pushing my thighs open wider for him, and then he kisses me, and I feel his whole body go rigid.

  “I can’t…” He grunts as he breaks the kiss. “Come for me, now!”

  I feel like I’m drowning. It breaks over me with a force that I couldn’t possibly have imagined, my back arching deeply as I moan, the sound almost a scream as my nails score his back. I cry out his name as I t
hrow my head back, writhing beneath him as I feel myself clench hard around him, his cock throbbing inside of me as he groans, a sound of deep, agonizing relief, and I know exactly what he feels.

  Every inch of his skin against mine burns like a brand, his lips claiming mine again as he holds himself deeply inside of me. The pulses of his orgasm echo mine as he shudders atop me, his hand clenching the side of the bench so hard I think he might break it.

  Holy shit.

  It’s the only thought my dazed brain can manage. I don’t want him to move. I don’t want him to pull out of me. I don’t want this to ever end.

  Nope. I want to stay just like this until he can do it again. And then we can just keep doing this forever until we die of it.

  He must read all of that in my expression as he slowly pries himself away from my body, slipping free of me. A grin tilts his full lips as he sinks to the floor next to the bench, panting.

  “That was good for you, hmm?” He gives a low chuckle, and I manage to roll my eyes.

  “If anyone was still out in the arena, they heard me. Actually, it’s possible everyone on the ship heard me.” Brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from my cheek, I glance at him. “So yeah, I’d say it was good.”

  His hand goes to the side of my face, turning it toward his, and he kisses me deeply, his tongue sliding into my mouth as his lips capture mine.

  “Let them hear,” he murmurs, his voice a deep growl. “I have claimed my Irisa.”

  This is where I should argue, should tell him it was just sex, just satisfying a physical need we both felt, and that it doesn’t mean I’ve agreed to accept his ridiculous ideas about fated mate bonds.

  But I can’t make the words come out of my mouth.

  As I slowly sit up, testing my strained muscles and wincing at the slight soreness between my legs, I know something has shifted between us. I can feel it. I let myself admit that I wanted him, and in the heat of the moment, even admit that he’s a man I could love. That my reticence about this has come not from my feelings about Tordax himself, but from my fear of the unknown.