As Dante suggests we take a seat out of the way of the crew, and with the growl still in his throat, I cup his chin with my hand.
“If you thought this was going to be hard for you, why did you bring me?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I am in closer proximity to your warriors than ever. You haven’t stopped growling. I presume this is to do with your rut?”
“Rut,” Dante rasps under his breath. “Mine.” He wraps an arm around my waist.
“Why, Dante,” I trill. “You want to take me to our quarters? I’dlovethat.”
Dante blinks at me. I press a kiss to his chin and feel the way his knees dip.
“Yes,” he growls.
I’m absolutely sure I hear a collective sigh of relief across the bridge.
“Comm me when we’re within three light years of the planet,” Dante snarls generally at his crew. “I will be in my quarters…with my mate.”
Without any ceremony, I’m scooped into his arms, and without a single care, Dante doesn’t walk…he runs. Absolutely no shame whatsoever, and I find I’m laughing out loud at his enthusiasm and his entire lack of decorum as he pounds through the ship to the rear, doors opening and closing until he comes to a halt in a room which is almost entirely circular.
And the doors close behind us.
There is a depression in the centre, as with all Sarkarnii quarters, but what captures my attention is the huge window, an almost mirror of the one on the bridge.
Space is vast. I could feel very small, but I’m here with my big, bad Sarkarnii warlord.
I am anything but small.
“Now I have you all to myself and an entire voyage ahead of us,” Dante rumbles in my ear.
“Oh dear, what will we do with ourselves?”
I feel, beneath me, his hips swaying from side to side.
“What’s happening, Dante?” I ask, my hand on his jaw.
“I want to dance for you, little flame. I want to make you mine.”
DANTE
She has a scent which I want to imprint on, to never have it leave me, to be able to inhale her nova day after nova day. As much as I want to remain sheathed in her little body for all eternity.
I want to dance for her. Then I want to mate her. Then I want to dance for her again.
“You want to dance for me?” Rosalie asks, her stunning eyes roving over my face.
I brush my thumb over the softness of her skin, which has a texture unlike anything I’ve ever touched, and it feels like the most delicate of fabrics. I love touching it. I love touching her.
“I might have not done any of this the right way.” I dip my head into her hair, wanting to absorb her somehow, my tongue trailing over the area I bit her.
In my arms, my Rosalie trembles. In my pants, my cock pushes from my pouch, painful against the fabric, and I need to release it.
“I wouldn’t have expected anything else.” She chuckles, pushing her fingers in my hair, her little claws pressing into my scalp.
I think my cock might go off in my pants.
“Can I mate you, my Rosalie?” I say into her neck. “Can I breed you, fill you with my seed, make you ripe with sarkarnling?”
