“They’re not just glowing marks.” Rezor’s voice wasfierce. “They’re proof of compatibility. Of destiny, if you believe in such things. Every lord who finds their mate experiences this. It’s not new. It’s not unheard of.”
“But an alien mate probably is.”
He didn’t argue with that.
I moved to the window, looking out at the valley spread below. It was beautiful in the morning light. Thriving and green and carefully protected. These people had built something remarkable here, carved out a life on a planet that faced endless storms.
And I was the outsider threatening to disrupt it all.
“I should go,” I said. “Let you deal with council politics. Figure out damage control.”
“Cleo—” His hand closed around my arm, spinning me to face him, and then his mouth was on mine.
Hard. Desperate. More intense than the kiss in the tech chamber. This was raw need, frustration and desire all tangled together. His other hand fisted in my hair, angling my head. I let out a gasp that devolved into a groan of need. My head spun. My bones just dissolved, and I clung to him like some damsel because I was sure I’d plop to the floor in a pile of goo if I didn’t. Pathetic, but that was reality.Thatwas what this male did to me, damn him.
Then he released me. Stepped back. His chest heaved. His eyes blazed fuchsia. His marks glowed bright enough to see through his shirt.
“You should go,” he said, his voice rough. “Now.”
I stared at him. At the tension in every line of his body. At the way his hands flexed at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching for me again.
The smart thing would be to leave. To walk out that door and let him deal with his council and his politics and his complicated feelings about alien mates.
But when had I ever done the smart thing?
“Fuck it,” I said. “I want to know what you’re like.”
I closed the distance between us, and we came together in a crash of heat and hunger. His hands were everywhere, pulling me closer, sliding into my hair, gripping my waist. I grabbed the front of his shirt, feeling the blazing warmth beneath the fabric, and kissed him like I was drowning and he was air.
He groaned against my mouth, walking me backward until my back hit the wall. His body pressed against mine, solid and warm and right in a way that should have terrified me but didn’t.
Then he pulled back, just enough to look at me. His pupils were blown wide, his breathing ragged.
“Say it,” he demanded. “Tell me what you want.”
“You know what I want.”
“I need to hear it.” His hand cupped my face, not gently. His thumb pressed past my kiss-swollen lips. “I need to know you’re choosing this. Choosing me.”
I held his gaze, saw the vulnerability beneath the command. He needed to know I wasn’t just swept up in the moment, that I was making a conscious choice.
“I want you,” I said clearly. “I want to fuck you right here, right now.”
His eyes flared even brighter. “Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
“Very well,” he said gravely, as if I’d made a choice I’dcome to regret. And maybe I would, but not today. My body wanted to know what all the fuss was about with this guy, and so did the rest of me.
For a moment, he didn’t move. Those fuchsia eyes searched my face, looking for…what? Hesitation? Doubt? A low growl rumbled from his chest, vibrating against my palm still pressed there. The sound went straight through me, settling low in my belly.
His hands came up slowly, reverently, sliding along my waist. His fingers spread wide, spanning the curve of my waist. Even through a layer of fabric, I could feel the heat of him, the barely restrained strength in those hands. His hands slid to my hips, those fingers digging in just a little harder. “These garments,” he growled. “Remove them.”
My fingers trembled as I fumbled with the fastenings at my waist. The small clasps suddenly seemed impossibly complex under his intense gaze. I fumbled with the first one, my fingers clumsy with need and nervousness. Finally, it released. Then the second.
His fingers went to work on my tunic, gathering the material and peeling it up, over my head. I had to lift my arms for him, but he didn’t rush me, just watched, those fuchsia eyes tracking every inch of exposed skin. I shimmied the pants down past my hips, letting them pool at my feet.
The air felt cool against my suddenly bare chest, my nipples tightening into hard peaks. His jaw clenched, and a muscle ticked there as his gaze raked over me, hot and heavy, lingering on my breasts, the curve of my waist, the junction of my thighs. I felt exposed, vulnerable, but the raw desire in his expression sent a thrill through me.
