by Presley Hall
I start to look around for something I can use as a makeshift top, but as my gaze scans the dimly lit room, I yelp.
Droth is sitting up on the bed, watching me.
Fuck. When did he wake up?
Judging by his insane skills as a fighter and warrior, he probably woke up the second I slid out from under his arm. In retrospect, I should’ve realized he’s not the type of guy who sleeps through something like that.
When our gazes meet, Droth stands from the bed, still naked, and approaches me like I’m a startled animal. He definitely seems to recognize that I was getting dressed to leave, but he doesn’t look angry. If anything, he looks… concerned.
He gets close enough to reach out and grab me, but he only holds his palms up and speaks in a low tone. It’s amazing how he can make his guttural language sound so soothing.
I get the feeling he’s trying to comfort me, and I feel like a total asshole. He’s done everything right, and even now, when I’m treating him like he’s going to do something terrible, he’s being patient and gentle.
“Look…” I lick my lips, struggling to find the right words—not that it matters, I guess. But still, I feel like I have to say something, whether he understands me or not. “What happened between us was amazing, but… but it’s not real, you know? I mean, in real life, women don’t just run off with alien warriors who rescue them from giant birds. And I have responsibilities. I’ve got to make sure the others are alive and find some way to get back home. My people need me. I appreciate everything you’ve done, and, you know…”
…the sex was great, and I think you’re amazing.
I grimace. Dammit. I’m not doing this right. None of the words I’m saying even come close to capturing how monumental this felt. How much of a big deal it was, even if I’m trying to pretend it wasn’t.
In the short—very short—period of time I’ve known him, this man has changed me. That means something.
It almost makes me wish I didn’t have to go.
Droth cocks his head as he absorbs my words, which are probably all gibberish to him. That sexy as hell half-smile I’m starting to recognize appears on his face as he gazes at me. He’s the epitome of raw strength and masculinity, pearlescent blue-tinted skin and all, but when he smiles at me like this, his face looks so boyish and sweet in the shadowy light that my heart melts.
I press my lips together, refocusing. I can’t let myself get distracted by him again. I need to make him understand.
“Charlotte needs to go.” I make a walking motion with my fingers. “Um… hokut.”
He looks at my hands, then my face, and understanding finally lights in his eyes. His jaw tightens, his soft expression shifting into something that nearly breaks my heart.
18
Droth
She wants to go home.
My mate wants to leave me.
I’ve only picked up a small handful of words in Charlotte’s language, but I’m learning to interpret her gestures quite clearly. When she made the gesture for ship crashing and then mimed a ship taking off, I understood exactly what she meant.
She wants to get to the wreckage of her crashed spacecraft and then try to escape this planet somehow—to return to her home world.
She looked hesitant, almost nervous as she told me, as if I would be angry.
I am angry. Not at her, never at her.
Truthfully, I understand her desire. If I could, I would go home too. I just don’t understand why she would want to leave without me.
We are mates. We’re meant to be together.
I want to see her planet and understand her better, want to meet her people and absorb her customs. I hoped she would want the same thing, and I thought what happened between us earlier showed that she is coming to embrace the bond.
But if that’s true, why doesn’t she want us to remain together?
Perhaps her people would not permit us to be mated. I am an exile, after all, despite my royal blood. Or perhaps she has a mate already, back on her home world. I know he could not be her bonded mate, her fated mate, her true mate—but it is possible a man has tried to lay claim to her already.
Those thoughts don’t help my dropping mood, so I push them away.
Charlotte’s ship broke apart before it crashed. It was a big vessel, so it likely had more than a few escape pods. There might be a way off of Nuthora, a way for Charlotte to go home.
But I don’t want her to go.
I’ve waited my whole life for her, and being around her makes me feel like I belong somewhere again. She feels so perfectly right. She is home.
We are supposed to be together forever, in this life and the beyond, and even after knowing her for only a short time, I can’t imagine my life without this intelligent, brave, gorgeous woman in it.
I’ve claimed her.
She’s claimed me.
I need her, and it hurts to know that she doesn’t need me too.
I could lock her away if I wanted to. Then she can’t go.
The thought is pushed away just as fast as it comes. I would never do that. I want her to stay because she desires it, not because I make her. I want my mate to be happy, to feel safe, to come to me willingly, and that will never happen if I force her to remain here against her will.
Charlotte’s eyes are wide and hopeful as she stares at me, and I reach out and run a knuckle down the curve of her cheek.
“All right.” I nod. “Charlotte, home.”
Her face lights up, a smile chasing away the melancholy expression on her features. Her entire body slackens in relief, and she surprises me by stepping forward and wrapping her arms around me, resting her head on my chest. She speaks in a low, rapid voice. It’s too many words, too fast for me to even keep up with the count of her syllables.
But even without understanding the meaning, I can tell one thing.
She is happy.
And as long as it is within my power to do so, I’ll make sure she stays that way.
I palm the back of her head, my fingers brushing over the silken strands of her dark hair. My other arm wraps around her waist, pulling her closer to me. An ache spreads through my chest as I wonder how many more times I will have the opportunity to do this—to hold my mate close, to feel the warmth of her body against mine.
Charlotte’s breath hitches slightly, and she rests her hands on my chest, pressing back a little to look up into my eyes. Her green eyes glisten, and a single droplet falls from the corner of one, but she’s still smiling. Her fingers slide over the markings on my skin as she holds my gaze.
“Thahnk yoo,” she says quietly. “Yoor the mohst wuunderful mann eyve ever nown.”
There’s something soft in her voice as she speaks, a tenderness I’ve never heard before, and it makes me think that she does feel the things I do. That even if we can’t be together, even if she must leave, the bond between us is real.
For both of us.
I take her face in both of my hands, gazing down at her, trying to memorize her features. I could stare at my beautiful mate for hours and never get tired of looking, but as I drink in the sight of her, she shifts restlessly. Her hands come up to pull my own away from her face, but instead of moving away from me, she moves closer, erasing the last shred of space between our bodies.
She rises up onto her toes, molding herself against me as her lips find mine in a deep kiss.
My body responds instantly, my cock hardening against her lower belly as my pulse quickens. Despite the fact that I’ve already claimed her once, my need for her is no less intense. In fact, it feels almost more demanding now that my cock knows what it feels like to be buried in her wet heat.
But there’s something more between us than the pure desperation that fueled us the first time.
Something deeper.
Something stronger.
Perhaps it is the bond deepening. Perhaps it’s simply because through our limited communication, we’ve established that I will help my mate find a way to leav
e this planet.
Perhaps it’s because we both know this is the beginning of goodbye.
I don’t allow my mind to dwell on that thought. Tomorrow will bring what it may, but for now, for tonight—my Charlotte is still here. Her soft body is pressed to mine, her fingers are running through my hair, and her lips are moving against mine with the same hunger I feel.
In this moment, she is mine.
And I plan to show her exactly how much she means to me.
19
Charlotte
I didn’t mean to kiss Droth again.
I just gave myself a lecture about how it would probably be best to keep up some kind of barriers between us, and how crazy it is to develop any kind of feelings for an alien man. I meant it too. I know this is crazy.
But when I finally managed to convey to him what I want, I saw the look of pain in his eyes. He doesn’t want me to leave. For whatever reason, this strange warrior is attached to me—and I can’t deny that, as much as I try to fight it, something does seem to exist between us.
Still, when he opened his mouth after I finished speaking, it wasn’t to argue or to speak angrily. He made no move to hold me or force me to stay. He only spoke four words, and I recognized two of them.
Charlotte, home.
He’ll let me go. I have a feeling he’ll even help me. I honestly don’t know if any part of the Foreigner II can be salvaged enough to get me and the other women off this planet and back home, but I have to try. I have to at least make sure they’re all okay.
I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do that.
And with Droth on my side, I feel like I might actually have a chance at helping the other survivors of the crash.
I don’t know why he wants me so badly, or why he’s setting aside his own wants to give me what I need, but it makes something warm and soft spread through my chest.
This man—this alien—is good. He’s a better person than most of the ones I knew back on Earth, caring for both his people and me with such a fierce dedication that it knocks me back on my heels.
I truly didn’t mean to kiss him again, but as he held me against him with his strong, gentle hands, it hit me in a flash that I’ll miss him. I barely know him and we’ve never had a conversation in the same language, but it feels like he’s imprinted himself on my soul somehow.
Before I could question myself or lecture myself or let doubts creep in, I followed the impulse that seemed to fill my whole body, leaning up and pressing my lips to his.
I think I took him by surprise, but it didn’t take more than half a heartbeat for him to start kissing me back, his arms tightening around me as he hauled me against his body.
And as we kiss this time, something seems to shift between us. This feels different than the first time we did this—maybe because this time I can’t blame it on adrenaline or shock or anything else. I know exactly what I’m doing, and I’m doing it with a clear head and heart.
With a low groan, Droth cups the back of my head in both of his hands and walks forward until my back is against the cold wall. There’s something hungry and all-consuming in the intensity of his lips. I get the feeling that if he could, he would melt himself into me so that we become one.
His hands drop to my hips, and he lifts me up as he presses himself against me, grinding his hard length against my barely covered center. My legs are tight around his hips, his cock nestled between us.
The thought of being claimed by him a second time makes me shiver, and I drag my core along his length.
Droth releases my lips to murmur against them, his words rough and promising. My body melts against his, and he presses his forehead against mine, staring into my eyes as he maneuvers me. He holds me up against the wall with one hand below my ass as his other hand unties and tugs off my makeshift skirt. The head of his broad shaft nudges my entrance, and he doesn’t hesitate to guide me the rest of the way, sliding me down onto his cock.
All I can do is hold on. As I sink onto him, my breath hitches at the incredible feeling of fullness. My legs tighten around him a little, my core squeezing him tight as my body adjusts to the delicious intrusion all over again.
When his length is buried as deep inside me as it can possibly go, his hands fasten around my hips as if he intends to keep me right where I am for the rest of my life.
Then he slowly pulls his hips back, keeping me pinned to the wall, and when he pushes back in, he growls.
“Fuck,” I pant. “Oh God, Droth.”
More wordless noises fall from my lips. I can’t quite form complete sentences, but the feel of him moving slowly in and out of me is so good, so intense, that it’s making me whimper and moan.
I try to cover my mouth so we don’t wake up anyone else in the village, but Droth nips my hand hard enough for it to sting and rasps something at me. Against my better judgement, I lower my hand and instead bury my face in the side of his neck.
I nibble at the muscle between his neck and shoulder, and he grunts, rewarding me with hard thrusts that fill my aching core and nudge my clit. I bite him again, and his pace picks up even more.
Over and over, he thrusts deep into my body. My arms and legs are wrapped tightly around him, and I’m holding on for dear life while he fucks me hard against the wall.
Pleasure builds inside me, spreading out through my limbs and making my blood feel like it’s on fire. I’m glad my canines aren’t as sharp as his, because I’m biting down on the warm skin of his shoulder hard enough that I’d probably draw blood if they were.
Finally, Droth growls again, pressing high into my core and maneuvering my hips so that I’m grinding against him. His cock pulses inside of me, swelling and thickening, and I give a weak cry as I writhe in his arms, rubbing my swollen clit against the thick node at the base of his shaft. My voice climbs higher with each breath, and when I reach the peak of my pleasure, I shudder around him as I ride it out.
As the intense burst of sensation subsides, I pant against his neck and rock my hips against him, undulating in fluid movements and stretching the aftershocks out as much as possible.
Droth is breathing hard, his skin warm against mine, and I kiss his neck, swiping my tongue every so often along the flesh. I clench my inner muscles around him, and he stiffens, then grabs me by the hips again.
This time, he takes total control of our movements, lifting me like I don’t weigh a thing and driving me down on his wide cock. I gasp at the feeling of complete fullness, the intensity of the need sparking between us.
This isn’t like any sex I’ve ever had before, and it’s not just in the way our bodies fit together perfectly. It’s in the way we respond to each other, acutely attuned to the slightest touch. It’s like he found a secret key that’s unlocked nerve endings in my body I didn’t even know existed.
After a few more thrusts, Droth slows his pace. His fingers tighten on my hips as he lifts me off his cock completely and sets me on my feet. My legs feel like liquid, and heat still pools in my lower belly.
I want more. So much more.
And he gives it to me.
In a quick movement, Droth grabs me by the waist and spins me around to face the wall. I brace my palms against it without a cue, bending at the waist and spreading my legs a little. A second later, Droth slides right back into me, his hips bouncing against the skin of my ass. He’s going deeper at this angle, and my eyes flutter closed, overwhelmed by the sensation of being filled to the brim over and over again.
I feel the heat of his chest hovering over my back, and then his hand slides down my stomach. He teases my clit, and I squeak, my knees nearly buckling as a bolt of pleasure streaks through me.
He seemed fucking fascinated by my clit earlier, especially when he realized what touching it did to me. I’m not sure he knew what it was at first, but he’s definitely caught on to the fact that it makes me come undone.
Funny. Some men go their whole lives without being able to find a woman’s clit, and Droth has not only fou
nd it, he’s mastered it in a day.
The wry thought is driven from my mind on a gasp as Droth proves to me what a fast learner he is.
His fingertips press harder on my sensitive bud, circling faster, and I groan, dropping my head as my hands flex against the wall. His thrusts are powerful and steady as he plays with my clit, flicking back and forth over my swollen clit until my entire body is shaking.
I don’t last long.
My core clenches around him, and I forget all about my efforts to stay quiet as I release a loud cry of naked pleasure.
Behind me, Droth lets out a string of words that I’m fairly certain are curses.
His cock seems to inflate to an impossible size, stiffening inside of me. He thrusts one more time, burying himself to the hilt, and grunts as he rocks against me, his breath ghosting over the back of my neck and his hands squeezing my hips desperately.
A gush of warmth fills the deepest parts of me, marking me with his essence from the inside.
I feel his cock pulse several more times as he empties himself completely, and my body goes slack as the last bit of tension from my orgasm fades. My hands are still pressed against the wall, my head drooping between them, and my legs are shaking slightly. Droth’s hand moves away from my clit, his arm supporting my upper body a little as his other hand skates over my skin, tracing the lines of my body.
Finally, he mumbles something into my hair and kisses my neck before he withdraws slowly, his movements careful. I feel the loss of him immediately, an emptiness that’s more than a physical sensation.
Like I miss him, somehow. Like I’d keep him inside of me forever if I could.
Possibly noticing the tremors in my legs, the alien warrior scoops me up bridal style and carries me back to the bed. He lays me down gently before he crawls onto the firm mattress next to me. His arms snake around my waist, and he nuzzles his face against my neck.
