“You’ve got very good aim,” I observe after a moment of silence, and her cheeks flush a little.
“Yeah. I guess I do. I never really knew that about myself, but when I saw you fighting that thing in the water, it was like some instinct kicked on and made me reach for a rock.” She bites her bottom lip, wrinkling her nose as she presses the cloth to my bloodied forearm. “I’m lucky I didn’t hit you instead of the monster. That would’ve been the second time in two days that I hit you without meaning to.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure you meant to the first time,” I tell her, a teasing tone coloring my voice. Her gaze snaps up to mine, and I chuckle as I shake my head. “But I don’t think it was luck that you hit the water-creature and not me out there in the lake. You hit it twice, from an impressive distance. That’s skill, not good luck.”
She smiles, refocusing on her task as she checks to see if my cuts are still bleeding. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I wish I knew why I was good at it.”
“I do too,” I say honestly. My curiosity about this delicate but fierce woman is almost insatiable. I can only imagine that she wants to know her own history even more than I do. “But it’s another good sign, in a way. Your body remembers things. They’ve been ingrained in your muscles, the same way my training as a warrior has been ingrained in mine. All of those things—the memories, the past experiences, everything that makes you you—are all still inside you. You haven’t lost them.”
The pressure on my forearm eases as she pulls the cloth away from my skin. Without looking up at me, she nods. “Thank you, Bohrir.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.” She lets out a breath, moving a little closer to clean the smears of blood away from my chest. I lean back a bit to give her better access, intensely aware of every brush of her skin against mine. “It’s weird, but I feel better having told someone about my memory loss. It feels like it’s not something I’m carrying around all by myself anymore. Talking about it makes it more real, in a way, but it also makes me feel like maybe I can overcome it one day.”
My heart clenches, a feeling that’s both pleasurable and almost painful in its intensity. The instinct to protect my mate beats inside me like a drum, and although I can’t fight the strange block in her memory the same way I fought the water-creature, I’m pleased to know that my words helped a little.
Willow works in silence for another few moments, then draws back. “Okay, I think they’re in pretty good shape. The cuts on your chest are a lot shallower than the ones on your arm, but none of them are too deep. I’m pretty sure you can get away without stitches, which is good because…” She shakes her head, grimacing. “I’m not sure I have the muscle memory to do that.”
I grin. I’m enjoying this new side of Willow—the one who speaks her mind openly, has a wry sense of humor, and doesn’t shy away from my touch.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I assure her. “For the plants, we’ll need to make a basic poultice out of them, and then apply it to the wounds. The easiest way to do that is to chew them up.” I hope out a hand. “I can do it if you prefer.”
Her eyes widen a little at my words, but then she picks up the leaves, which she set aside on the log while she worked. “No, that’s okay. You already did a lot for me, so this is the least I can do in return.”
She places a few leaves in her mouth, chewing them carefully before taking the pulp and smearing it over my wounds. It’s an oddly intimate thing, and I hold very still, unable to tear my gaze from her as she works. When she’s finished, she wraps a clean piece of cloth around the gashes on my forearm and tucks the end beneath the wrappings to secure it.
“There. How does that feel?”
“It feels good,” I murmur, unable to keep the huskiness out of my voice. I don’t know if I’m referring to my injuries or just the sensation of being cared for by her, but either way, my words are true.
Willow’s breath catches, and she clears her throat as she straightens and backs away. She wipes off her hands on a clean corner of the cloth she used to soak up the blood from my wounds, glancing toward the horizon.
“The sun will set soon. Should we start a fire?”
I nod, rising to my feet. I’m tempted to go hunting again, but after the incident in the water and the one earlier in the woods, I don’t want to leave Willow alone for even a moment. So instead, the two of us settle for eating more of the aroonas we picked earlier, along with some berries I find nearby our campsite.
We eat as I get a fire started, and as we settle down in front of the small blaze, Willow glances in the direction of the lake.
“Do you think that animal from the water will come after us again?” she asks. “That it’ll attack us on land?”
“I doubt it,” I say, following her gaze. “I injured it badly enough that there’s no reason for it to try. “And while it had legs, I don’t think it’s a creature that spends much time out of the water. On land, it would be bulky and cumbersome, it’s body too large to move quickly on those little legs. In the water, it has an advantage, so my hope is that it’ll stick to easier prey in that domain.”
“I hope so.” She shudders. “That thing was terrifying.”
“A lot of things on this planet are,” I agree with a wry laugh.
She twists her fingers together, gazing into the fire with a faraway look on her face. “That’s one of the reasons I wish I could remember Earth. From the little bits and pieces I’ve heard the other women say, it sounds like it's not nearly as dangerous as this planet. But Nuthora can be really beautiful too—much more so than I ever realized when I lived in Pascia. I wonder if Earth is like that. If it has spaces where breathtaking beauty and untamed nature coexist. I wonder if I ever got to see places like that before I was taken by Gornok and his men.”
“I hope you did,” I tell her, and she glances up at me with a soft smile on her face. “You’re right that Nuthora can be beautiful though. I would give anything to return to Vox, but I have to admit, I find the landscape here fascinating. On my home planet, it takes skill and patience to coax plants to grow—yet here, they burst forth in abundance of their own accord. I miss the sand and the open spaces on Vox, but I can appreciate the lushness of Nuthora.”
Willow huffs a laugh. “It’s too bad they had to go and turn it into a prison planet. Maybe it could’ve been a nice place if not for that.”
“Perhaps,” I agree with a chuckle. “Although there’s no place like home.”
“No. I guess not.”
She sighs, and my heart clenches. Unable to help myself, I shift closer to her, moving around the fire until we’re side by side. I reach over to brush a few strands of dark red hair back from her face, catching her gaze when she turns to look at me.
“I’ll do whatever I can to help you recover your memories,” I murmur. “I know that doesn’t mean much, since it’s not in my power to simply restore them to you. But anything that I’m capable of, Willow—I promise, I’ll do it.”
“That… that does mean a lot.”
Her voice is quiet, and the firelight casts her beautiful, delicate features in deep shadows, making her look even more mysterious than usual. She leans toward me, and I can’t help but lean in toward her too. All I got was one taste of her in the lake today, and I already crave her more than I crave food, water, or air. I’m captivated, hopelessly addicted to the scent and feel of her. To everything about her.
My palm cradles her cheek, and the first brush of our lips is soft, almost tentative. My cock thickens, responding instantly, and when Willow parts her lips and lets out a needy sound, the last of my restraint vanishes. I delve my tongue into her mouth, feasting on the sweetness of her, losing myself in the sheer perfection of kissing my mate.
Nothing on all the worlds in all the universe could compare to this.
My mate.
My Willow.
13
Willow
My heart pounds in my chest as Bohrir raises his other hand to my face a
s well, cradling my jaw as if I’m something precious and irreplaceable. His calloused fingers are rough against my skin, and it sends little shivers of pleasure racing down my spine.
I’m already breathless, my skin warm and my nerve-endings singing, and we haven’t even been kissing for that long. But it’s as if everything that happened since Bohrir found me bathing in the lake—our kiss, the fight with the water monster, me tending to his wounds—has created a pull between us that’s too strong to ignore.
Everything I felt when Bohrir kissed me in the lake is back, but now it’s been multiplied by a thousand. Maybe it’s just because I’m so relieved to be alive, or maybe it’s because Bohrir is the first person in all of my remembered life that I’ve actually felt like I can trust.
I trust him.
That might not mean much to some people, it does to me. It’s not an afterthought or a random observation. It’s everything.
It’s a bit ironic, considering his massive size and brute strength, but I feel safer with Bohrir than I ever have with anyone else. All of that raw power feels like a comfort rather than a threat. As if this man could be my shelter in a sea of uncertainty.
Maybe that’s why I do what I do next.
With my lips still pressed to his, I shift my weight, rising up onto my knees and then crawling onto his lap. My ass rests on his muscled thighs as my knees splay out to either side, and my skirt rides up to accommodate the movement, leaving very little barrier between us. But I barely even notice that—certainly not enough to be shy about it. I’m too busy taking advantage of the way this new angle allows us to deepen our kiss, our tongues brushing against each other as Bohrir groans against my lips.
He sounds almost tortured, and I never realized what an arousing noise that could be. I’m familiar with the grunts and groans that men make during sex, but I’m not used to enjoying them. My clit throbs in response, and I kiss Bohrir even more urgently, determined to draw that sound out of him again. He gives me exactly what I want, his chest rumbling with the deep noise as his hands roam over my body, sliding down the curve of my waist before settling at my hips.
When he pulls me a little tighter against him, the hot bulge of his cock presses against my core. My skirt has risen even higher, so only the leather of his loincloth keeps us from being skin-to-skin, and the pressure against my clit makes me whimper into his mouth.
“Willow,” he murmurs roughly.
The sound of my name on his lips is even better than the heated groans from a moment ago. It does something to my body that I’ve never experienced before, heating me up from the inside as my nipples harden and my heart races.
It’s all so intense and overwhelming that I cling to him tighter, even as I refuse to stop kissing him. Part of me is terrified by the indescribable sensations building up inside me, but the trust I have in Bohrir turns my fear into a kind of euphoria.
I feel like I’m drowning in him, and it’s the most incredible thing in the world.
My lips are swollen and tingling, heat building like an inferno in my lower belly. Every time he slants his lips over mine, the arousal coursing through my veins grows even stronger. I never want to stop kissing Bohrir, but at the same time, I’m hungry for more—desperate to explore every bit of him.
Dragging my lips away from his, I trail them across his cheek and down the strong line of his jaw. He lets out a low noise, his fingers flexing as he grips my hips more tightly. Encouraged by his response, I move lower, brushing my lips along the muscled column of his neck before allowing my tongue to dart out to taste his skin.
His hips buck upward at that, his strong hands pulling me even closer so that his cock grinds against my clit. I squeak as pleasure rushes through my veins, my pulse picking up even more. I’m panting as if I’ve been fighting another water monster or racing through the woods, and when I reach the spot where the muscles of Bohrir’s shoulder connect to his neck, I flick my tongue out again before setting my teeth against his smooth, blue-tinged skin and biting down gentle.
“Akhi,” he chokes out, his voice rough and hoarse.
One of his hands moves around to splay across my back as he drops his own head to the crook of my neck, mirroring my movement. He nuzzles at my hair and skin, breathing me in before pressing open-mouthed kisses to the curve of my shoulder. I wrap my arms around him to steady myself, and as I do, my fingers brush over the low, raised bumps the run along his spine.
Bohrir’s entire body shudders, and he wraps his arms around me in a tight embrace, panting against my neck.
I blink, a burst of pure arousal shooting through me.
He liked that.
A lot.
He’s seemed to like everything I’ve done so far, every touch and kiss bringing him more pleasure, just as his lips and hands are doing to me. But this was the most intense response he’s had to anything so far, and I can’t resist doing it again to see what happens.
This time, my touch isn’t accidental. With a deliberate motion, I circle my fingertips over one of the raised nodes on his back, and I can feel Bohrir’s cock throb against my center.
“Oh gods,” he murmurs, sounding almost delirious with desire. “Gods help me, Willow, that feels too good.”
Is there such a thing as too good?
After all the horrors I’ve experienced since I was stolen from Earth, I don’t know if there is. Good is all I crave. Safety and comfort and warmth and pleasure are all I want—and Bohrir can give me every one of those things.
I’m not brave enough to reach down between us yet, so I do the next best thing, teasing his nodes with the delicate pressure of my fingertips as I roll my hips against his, getting friction where I need it most.
“Willow…”
Bohrir groans my name as he unwraps one muscled arm from around my body. I think for a moment that he’s going to be the one to reach between us, to push his loincloth aside so that nothing separates us and then drive up into me.
But instead, he grips my wrist gently, pulling my hand away from the nodes on his back as he lets out a shuddering breath. I blink at him as he leans back a little, my mind fuzzy with desire.
“What—?” I gasp.
“I can’t.” He shakes his head, his shaggy dark hair falling over his forehead. “I can’t do this until you know the truth.”
My mind sticks on his first two words, and the liquid heat in my belly hardens into a lump.
He can’t? What does that mean? Does he not want me?
I don’t understand how he could kiss me like he just did if he doesn’t desire me. I was treated as little more than an object by Gornok and his men, interchangeable with any other Terran woman. There was nothing special about me in their eyes—I was just the one they happened to snatch up and steal from Earth.
But that’s not how Bohrir treats me.
Not how he looks at me or how he touches me.
Everything about the way he acts around me suggests that I matter to him.
So why can’t he do this with me?
My stunned brain finally processes the rest of what he said, and I blink, worry flashing through me like a bolt of lightning. “Until I know the truth about what?”
Although our chests are no longer pressed together, I’m still straddling Bohrir’s lap. His cock is still hard and throbbing, sandwiched between us, and I can feel the heat of his body radiating into mine. His dark blue eyes seem like bottomless pools as he gazes at me for a long moment before answering. When he does, his voice is grave and serious, and thick with desire.
“You are my mate, Willow. And I am yours.”
My stomach flips over, my heart lurching in my chest. “What?”
“A mate bond has formed between us,” he tells me in a low voice. “I felt it after I pulled you out of the crevasse where the kheeril was trying to attack you.” He swallows, his jaw clenching. “I’ve never known fear like I did in that moment, watching the kheeril advance toward you. And when I realized you were safe, it was so much more than
just relief that I felt. It felt as though I could breathe again. As though the sun had winked out for a moment and then begun to shine again, brighter than ever before. I felt whole.”
The fluttering in my stomach intensifies, and I gaze at him in stunned silence. I’ve heard of the mate bond before—have overheard both the Voxeran men and the Terran women talking about them. Back in the village, it was easy enough to see who had paired up with whom. The couples never seemed shy about expressing their desire for each other, and the paired-off mates seemed to spend a lot of time in each other’s company. They were inseparable.
But it never really occurred to me that it could happen to me. That a bond like that could form between me and one of the Voxeran warriors.
Is that what this is? Is that why Bohrir’s touch inflames me instead of terrifying me? Is that why he’s started to feel like the only person on this planet who truly understands me?
Because… we’re mates.
I swallow, my breath catching in my throat. I thought I was overwhelmed before, with Bohrir’s lips on my skin and his hands roaming my body—but it turns out, I had no idea what “overwhelmed” even meant until now.
My heart is beating out an uneven tempo against my ribs, as if it’s trying to gallop but can’t quite find its gait. I stare into Bohrir’s mesmerizing eyes, my mouth hanging partway open as I try to think of something to say, some words that will come close to expressing the clamor of emotions crashing around inside my chest right now.
Before I can string together a single word, the massive warrior shakes his head. He reaches up to trail his fingertips lightly down the side of my face, making goosebumps scatter across my skin.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you, Willow. That’s the last thing I’ll ever want. That’s why I didn’t tell you before. I didn’t want to spring it on you or make you feel trapped by the bond. But I want you.” His eyelids droop a little as he says the words, and I feel his cock pulse against my core. “I want you more than I’ve ever desired anyone in all my life, and if… if things had continued, I don’t know if I could’ve held myself back from claiming you. Especially with you so warm and willing in my arms.”
Her Alien Protector: Voxeran Fated Mates #6 Page 9
