I shattered.
The orgasm hit like a bomb, pleasure exploding outward from my core in waves that made my vision white out. My body convulsed around him, muscles clamping down hard enough that he groaned. Every nerve ending fired at once, sensation overload that bordered on painful.
I felt him follow. His cock pulsed inside me, heat flooding my core as he came. His hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise, holding me in place while he emptied himself. The growl that tore from his chest was primal, possessive, absolutely inhuman.
We stayed locked together, both shaking, both struggling to breathe. His tail remained wrapped around my waist, his wings still mantled, his fangs still pressed to my throat.
Slowly, reality filtered back in. The cave. The scattered supplies. The ache in my ribs that had been drowned by endorphins and was now making itself known again.
I should move. Should climb off him, put distance between us, reestablish some kind of boundary.
I didn't move.
His cock was still inside me, softening but not withdrawn. The fleshy tip gave one last flutter, then went still. Aftershocks rippled through my core, small spasms that made me gasp.
His hands gentled on my hips. Stroking now rather than gripping. Soothing.
I lifted my head, met his eyes. Silver and satisfied and entirely too knowing.
One time wasn't going to be enough.
The realization settled over me. I'd thought this would scratch the itch, get him out of my system, satisfy the curiosity that had been eating me alive.
It had made everything worse.
I wanted more. Wanted to learn every sound he made, every place that made him shudder, every way his alien body could give me pleasure. Wanted to map him with my hands and mouth until I knew him better than I knew myself.
Fuck.
I was in so much trouble.
I shifted, started to lift off him. His hands tightened fractionally, a small protest, before releasing me.
The loss of him left me empty. Hollow. I hated how much I noticed it.
I moved to the side, careful of my wounds. Wetness leaked down my thighs, evidence of what we'd done. I should clean up, rebandage, do something practical.
I just sat there, processing.
His hand found mine. Laced our fingers together. The gesture was intimate in a way the sex hadn't been. Tender.
I should pull away.
I squeezed his hand instead.
9
NYX
Dawn brokeover Volcaryth with the kind of heat that promised suffering. I felt it seeping into the cave, chasing away the relative coolness of night, turning the air thick and hostile. The twin suns would be merciless today.
Lexa was already awake, already dressed, already moving like last night had never happened.
I watched her from where I lay against the cave wall, my pack beside me, my body still humming with the memory of her. She'd pulled on her travel leathers, the fabric hugging curves I'd mapped with my hands just hours ago. Her movements were careful but efficient as she tested her range of motion, rolling her shoulders, stretching her arms overhead, checking how much the wounds limited her.
Not much, apparently. The healing salve was potent, designed to accelerate recovery in warriors who couldn't afford downtime. On her human physiology, it seemed to be working even faster than expected.
She bent forward, touching her toes, and I had to look away before I did something stupid like cross the cave and put my hands on her again.
