Her Alien Protector: Voxeran Fated Mates #6

by Hall, Presley

  15

  Willow

  A cool nose nuzzles my hand, and I look down into a pair of excited brown eyes. Max’s tongue lolls from his mouth before he licks at my fingers, and I giggle as I pull my hand out of the way of his wet kisses.

  His enthusiasm undampened, he lets out a little bark before bounding away from me, his ears flapping as he races across the grass. He picks up a stick and shakes his head back and forth, gamboling in circles with his tail wagging.

  I watch him for a few moments with a smile on my face, then turn around to head back into the house, leaving the dog to play in the backyard.

  The interior of the house is strangely fuzzy and indistinct, but I walk through it unerringly, as if I know the layout deep in my bones. Little things stand out to me—a brightly colored rug in a hallway, a small table with a vase of freshly cut flowers on it, and a massive window with a cushioned seat right in front of it.

  I find myself slowing down a little as I pass those areas of the house, the part of my mind that knows this is a dream urging me to pay attention, to remember everything I can. A bookshelf full of books catches my attention, and although I can’t seem to read any of the titles, a wave of emotion rises up inside me as I run my fingertips over their spines.

  Comfort.

  Happiness.

  Home.

  My heart beats a little harder, and I leave the bookshelf behind to venture deeper into the house, reaching out to trail my fingers over the walls, the furniture, and the doors. Sometimes the things I touch spring into clearer focus, and sometimes they don’t, but the emotions building in my chest grow stronger and stronger anyway.

  Whether I recognize everything in this house or not, it all feels familiar.

  It all feels like home.

  I step out of a hallway into a large room that has to be a kitchen, and my gaze moves toward the sink and countertop at one side of the room. Someone is standing at the counter, her back to me as she looks out the window. Gray hair is twisted into a braid that falls partway down her back, and she’s dressed in a simple sweater and a pair of jeans.

  My breath catches, and I freeze just inside the door as if I’ve stumbled upon a rare wild animal and am afraid of scaring it away. I want desperately to see the woman’s face, but even with her back to me, I know who it is. Even without touching her, I can feel the emotional connection I have with her. It fills my chest until there barely seems to be room for air anymore, and my voice is a choked whisper when I finally speak.

  “Grandma?”

  * * *

  My eyes fly open, my heart racing in my chest. Darkness surrounds me, dim starlight shining down from above as the dream slowly starts to fade.

  I run through it in my head, going over everything I remember as many times as I can to cement the little details in my mind before they slip away.

  That was my house.

  My dog.

  My grandmother.

  I’m sure of it.

  I don’t know why the memories that have decided to return first seem to be from years ago, from when I was a little girl back on Earth, but I don’t care. I cling to them anyway, so excited that I can hardly breathe.

  Bohrir’s arm is draped over my waist, his chest pressed to my back and his body warm behind mine. We fell asleep in front of the remnants of the fire again last night, just like we did the night before, and I can’t resist rolling over in his embrace as giddy joy overwhelms me.

  His eyes pop open before I even say a word, which shouldn’t surprise me. He’s a trained warrior, and he’s lived on this planet long enough to be a light sleeper, alert to all the potential dangers that lurk in the surrounding forest.

  “What is it?” he asks, half sitting up before I grab his shoulders and pull him back down beside me.

  “Nothing bad. It’s okay,” I whisper hurriedly. “Sorry to wake you, I just—I had another dream.”

  “You did?” His expression is instantly alert, and it makes my heart flutter. He seems as invested in me recovering my memories as I am, and his interest in every one of my recollections makes it easier to recall them somehow. As if knowing that I have someone to share them with coaxes the dark sea in my mind to release its treasures more willingly.

  I tell him everything I can recall from the dream, talking through it slowly and backtracking several times as new details occur to me. Through it all, Bohrir stays silent, his large palm resting on my hip and his gaze never leaving my face. The violet-blue of his irises nearly blends with the black of his cat-like pupils in the dark, making his eyes look like fathomless pools.

  When I finish speaking, a smile curves his lips, showing off just a hint of the elongated canines all Voxerans seem to have.

  “That’s incredible, my kira,” he murmurs. “You found your family.”

  “I did.” I nod, excitement still buzzing through me. “It’s so strange. Even though I couldn’t see her face, I knew that woman. I’m positive it was my grandma, not so much because of the way she looked—not her hair or her clothes or anything—but because of the way being around her made me feel.”

  “How did it make you feel?”

  “Loved,” I say simply. “Grounded. Safe.”

  “Good.” Bohrir’s voice is a low rumble, deep and quiet. “You deserve to feel those things, and I’m glad to know that for some part of your life, you did.”

  I know he’s probably thinking of all the parts of my life where I didn’t feel safe or cared for—my time with Gornok and his men—and I nod, tears burning the backs of my eyes.

  “I wondered sometimes,” I admit in a whisper. “If my life back on Earth was just as bad as my time with the pirates—or worse, even. If that was why I blocked it out. I wondered if I was better off not knowing who I used to be before all of this, if it was better to leave the past buried.” My throat tightens, and I have to work to speak around the sudden lump there. “But my life wasn’t bad. It was good. I had people who cared about me on Earth. People who loved me.”

  Just saying the words out loud makes them feel more real, and a fresh wave of emotion surges through me. Before I can think about what I’m doing, I allow the wave to carry me forward, leaning into Bohrir’s warm, solid body and tilting my chin up to press my lips to his.

  He stiffens for just a second, probably startled by my abrupt action, but then his arm slides around my waist, pulling me even tighter against his body. He returns my kiss hungrily, his lips angling over mine as his tongue slides into my mouth.

  This isn’t the first or even the second time I’ve kissed this man, but it’s more intense than any of the other times. Instead of sating my desire for him, every kiss we share seems to send it spiraling higher until it seems impossible for my body to contain it all.

  My palms brace against his chest, my fingers curling and my nails digging into his skin a little as I whimper into his mouth.

  Bohrir groans, rolling onto his back and bringing me with him so that I’m sprawled on top of his broad frame. My legs automatically fall to either side of his hips, and with my full weight resting on him, I can feel the bulge of his thick cock between our bodies. The knowledge that he’s fully hard just from kissing me for a few moments sends a little zing of arousal shooting through me, electrifying my skin and making my clit throb.

  It feels so incredibly good to touch him like this, to lose myself in his kisses and caresses—and for once, I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to pull away, even if it’s terrifying to throw myself into the torrent of feelings that exist between me and Bohrir.

  Maybe it’s because of my dream. Because I finally feel like I have a better grasp on who I am.

  Maybe that makes it easier to trust my instincts when they scream at me that this is right.

  That it’s real.

  “Willow,” Bohrir gasps, finally unwrapping his arms from around me and reaching up to grasp my shoulders as he tears his lips from mine.

  I know what he’s going to say. He’s going to repeat the same thin
g he told me earlier, about how sleeping together will strengthen the bond and how he doesn’t want to trap me like that.

  But I don’t feel trapped.

  For the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel completely free. I know what I want, and as overwhelming as it is, I’m not afraid to take it.

  “Bohrir…”

  I murmur his name just like he uttered mine, resting my hands on his chest as I straighten my arms and sit up, still straddling him. He looks so gorgeous, gazing up at me with starlight shining down on his strong, angular features. His pearlescent blue skin almost seems to shimmer in the dim light, and the white markings that curl over his arms and torso give off a faint glow.

  “You’re so handsome,” I whisper, lifting one hand from his chest to trace the lines of his face.

  Bohrir shudders beneath me, his cock pulsing between us as his eyelids droop. Beneath my palm, his heart slams out a heavy rhythm as his chest rises and falls with deep breaths.

  “I’ve never known anyone like you,” I continue. A half laugh falls from my lips as I add, “Even without remembering much of my time on Earth, I think it’s safe to say that. Because I don’t think there are many men like you in all the universe, Bohrir. You have so much strength, so much raw power at your disposal. You could walk through life taking whatever you want, doing whatever you want, and no one could stop you. But you don’t. You’re one of the gentlest people I’ve ever known.”

  He swallows, and I watch the thick, corded muscles of his neck move. I’m struck by the sudden urge to press my lips to those muscles, to run my tongue over his skin—and just like earlier, I let the wave of feelings I’m riding pull me forward.

  Leaning down, I kiss the smooth curve where his neck joins with his shoulder. The noise Bohrir makes in response is so low that I almost don’t hear it, but I can feel the vibrations of it against my palm. My own breath comes faster as I dart my tongue out to taste him, scraping my teeth lightly over his skin too.

  “Willow.” Bohrir’s voice is like sandpaper, and he grips my hips tightly, his fingers rigid. “I can’t—slanch, I’m trying to hold back, but I can’t—”

  “I don’t want you to,” I murmur, my own voice turning raspy as I bite down on his shoulder, making his hips jerk upward toward mine. “You’ve been so careful with me, and that means so much. But you don’t have to hold back now. I want this. I want… I want you.”

  Beneath me, Bohrir goes completely stiff. For a moment, he even stops breathing, and I go still too, wondering if I said something wrong or he didn’t understand me.

  Then he wraps his arms around me, switching our positions so fast that the dark forest seems to blur around me before I’m placed gently on my back. Bohrir’s muscled frame hovers over mine as he gazes down at me with blazing eyes.

  “Are you sure?” he asks, the glow of his markings intensifying.

  The incredible rush of emotions that’s been urging me on swells again, making it almost impossible to speak. But I know he needs to hear the words as much as I need to say them.

  “Yes.” I nod and keep nodding as I add, “I’m positive.”

  The second the words are out of my mouth, Bohrir’s lips crash down on mine. There’s something wilder and more unrestrained in this kiss, as if he really isn’t holding himself back anymore. As if he’s allowing himself to take what he’s been dying to claim ever since the mate bond activated between us—or maybe even longer than that.

  It’s overwhelming in the best way, and I wrap my arms around his neck partly to bring him closer and partly because I need something to hold on to as pleasure rocks me like a stormy sea. His shaggy hair is thick and soft, and I run my fingers through the strands at the nape of his neck before dropping them lower and tracing the shape of the nodes that run along his spine.

  Bohrir growls softly against my lips, and the sound makes me feel strangely powerful, as if I’ve brought this mighty warrior to his knees. As if just being touched by me has pushed him almost to his breaking point.

  His hips grind against mine, and I open my legs wider, welcoming the contact. My clit is throbbing with every press of his cock against it, the friction pushing me closer and closer to an orgasm.

  I don’t know how long we go on like that, but it’s long enough for me to feel completely dazed when Bohrir pulls back. My lips are tingling from the force of our kisses, and I suck in a lungful of air as if I’ve forgotten how to breathe.

  Bohrir’s markings are glowing more brightly than ever, and when I run my fingertips over one of the swirls that cuts across his shoulder, he clenches his jaw, his nostrils flaring. With deft hands, he undoes the ties that hold my top in place, peeling the leather away and leaving my torso exposed to the cool night air.

  My nipples go hard and stiff, but it’s not from the cold. It’s from the heat in Bohrir’s eyes as his gaze trails down my body. I hold my breath again, the need for oxygen already a distant memory as I wait in anticipation for what he’ll do next.

  With a choked groan, he lowers his head and closes his lips around my breast, lashing his tongue over my nipple before sucking on it in a deep pull. A sudden rush of sensation flashes through me, and I arch my back as my hands fly to his hair, grabbing fistfuls of it in a tight grasp.

  Bohrir lets out another hungry sound, transferring his attention to my other breast and then back again as I toss my head back and forth.

  It feels so good—like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.

  I’m no stranger to sex, but this? This is all new to me. I’ve never had the good kind of sex, the kind that feels not just pleasurable but transformative. The kind that makes you feel wanted and special and cared for.

  This is addictive.

  Every time Bohrir sucks on one of my nipples or drags it gently between his teeth, more slick wetness gathers in my core, and my clit throbs harder and harder.

  I never want him to stop touching me like this, but at the same time, my lips feel bereft without him. Every part of me craves him, and I’m so hungry for another kiss that I tug gently at his hair, urging him to move upward. When he finally does, I lift my head off the ground to meet him for a kiss, allowing my own desperation to show as I press my lips to his over and over again.

  With a rumbling snarl, Bohrir slides his calloused fingers down my body, tracing the contours of my waist and hips before slipping his hand between my legs. My skirt has ridden up again, so he barely has to push it out of the way to find what he’s looking for, and his fingers tease my entrance, gathering the wetness there before circling my clit.

  “Oh!” I grab his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin as my legs clamp around his waist. “That feels… oh!”

  I don’t have words for it. I don’t have words at all. I circle my hips, lifting them off the ground a little to chase the pleasure of Bohrir’s touch, and even when he pulls his hand away, the lingering sensation makes my nerve-endings prickle.

  He breaks our kiss again as he raises his fingers to his lips and laps up the glistening arousal that coats them. I gaze up at him, entranced by the sight of his face and the raw desire in his expression as he tastes me.

  “So sweet,” he murmurs roughly, his violet-blue eyes as dark as midnight.

  Then he crawls down my body again—but this time, he doesn’t stop at my breasts. He trails hot, open-mouthed kisses lower and lower, dragging his lips between my breasts and down the line of my stomach as he unties my skirt.

  He tugs my last remaining article of clothing away from my body as he settles between my legs, and the knowledge that he’s gazing at my core makes my stomach flutter even as fresh heat shoots through my veins.

  No one has ever done this before. Even with large chunks of my memories missing, I’m sure of that.

  I bite my lip so hard it hurts as I wait, every muscle in my body tensed in anticipation. The first hot stroke of Bohrir’s tongue through my folds makes more arousal gush from me, and I would be embarrassed about how wet I’m getting if it weren�
�t for the fact that he seems to love it. He laps at me like he’s drinking me up, nuzzling his nose against my clit as his tongue delves deeper inside me.

  When I shift my hips restlessly, tilting them upward to try to get more pressure where I’m dying for it, he notices the movement and responds quickly. His tongue finds my clit, making a ragged cry fall from my lips.

  With a growl, he grips my thighs in both hands and concentrates all his attention on that sensitive little nub, flicking and lapping and circling with his tongue until I’m a sobbing, panting mess beneath him.

  “Please, Bohrir,” I gasp out, forcing my mouth to form the words. “Please, I need—I need to come. I’m so close, I can’t—”

  Whatever else I might’ve said is lost in another choked sob as he closes his mouth around my clit and sucks gently, his tongue still sliding over it in a mind-boggling pattern.

  It’s too much.

  It’s exactly what I need.

  It’s everything I’ve been missing.

  My body lights up, pleasure bursting outward from my clit like the blast radius from a bomb. My thighs tense up, pressing against Bohrir’s hold on them as my jaw drops open on a silent scream.

  He keeps lapping at me, and I keep coming, every new stroke of his tongue seeming to start the orgasm over again so that it goes on and on. I’m shaking from head to toe, my heart slamming against my ribs and my breath coming in choppy gasps.

  “Bohrir,” I whimper. “More. Please.”

  16

  Bohrir

  More.

  My mate wants more.

  Pride and desire swell inside me, along with a fierce determination. The taste and scent of Willow’s arousal fills my senses like a drug as her tense muscles relax slightly under my grip.

  I want more too. I want to bury my face between her thighs and devour her, to feast on her forever. I would gladly forgo all other food and drink if I could just have this for the rest of my life.