“Monqilcolnen,” I breathed, my chest heaving.
He tightened his fingers, claws digging into my uniform. “I am very much looking forward to this outing.”
“Just the outing?” I teased.
Monqilcolnen laughed softly and bent his head closer. His breath rushed over me as he said, “Not the outing, Peace. The outing with you and only you.”
A whine escaped before I could swallow it. He gave me a smirk, then captured my lips in a claiming kiss. I moaned into the touch, and Monqilcolnen took advantage, slipping his tongue against mine. The kiss, while desperate, was tender, as was the way he held me to him. I felt safe. Completely safe.
“Mon—” I didn’t even get his whole name out before he took me again. I fell into his embrace and surrendered to the kiss and the havoc Monqilcolnen was wrecking on my soul.
With one last gentle kiss, he pulled back. I cupped his check, brushing his scales. “What was that for?”
“I’m supremely happy right now.”
Heat poured through my veins. “So am I.”
He didn’t say anything else but continued to gently stare at me. We needed to go, and yet it seemed as if neither of us was in a hurry to move. Monqilcolnen lowered his head until his forehead butted against mine. My breath caught. He didn’t scent mark me, though, nor did he pull away. We stayed right where we were, existing with one another. In no rush. Not bothered by questions of where this was going or even the excitement of the coming day. No, we breathed one another in.
“Commander,” someone interjected.
I shot out of Monqilcolnen’s arms with a squeal, whipping toward the intruder. It was an ensign, not one I knew. They stood in front of us and stared at the vines above as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world.
Unlike me, Monqilcolnen faced the young ensign without any flinching or embarrassment. “Yes?”
“I’m scheduled to work on this terminal,” they replied, still looking anywhere but at us.
The terminal Monqilcolnen and I were blocking—blocking in a completely inappropriate way. I squeaked and rushed to the dock. I could hear the humor lingering in Monqilcolnen's voice as he said, “Right. Continue, Ensign.”
Without missing a step, Monqilcolnen took my tail in his and led me to the door of the station. Was it odd I wanted to faint? Or press against him? Or grin like a fool? What was he doing to me?
After the door behind us closed, the one to the station rolled open.
My eyes widened, and my mouth dropped open. Monqilcolnen breathed a laugh against my ear, tickling me, and said, “I’m glad you like it.”
From the outside, the station looked like a gray sphere, nothing else, which was odd to me because the kanxan’si species was known for their architecture. I’d expected an elaborate station, not a ball floating in space. But this… this was lovely.
Panels covered the entirety of the skyline, and they showed the purple swirling galaxies that were always visible on their home planet. All of the buildings were space-black and formed like spires, which nearly pierced the dome above me. Pinpricks of light were among the spires—rooms. They had built a whole city of spires filled with rooms, making everything look like space with stars glinting. The kanxan’si moved about, unhurried. They were a deep purple, with round, bald heads that were topped with spiral horns, massive black eyes, and very rotund bodies.
I took a step forward, and the floor crunched beneath my boots. It was sandy dirt which was nearly as dark as the spires, though it did have a grayish tinge. Monqilcolnen stepped up behind me, and I leaned back against him, moaning in contentment when he slid his arms around my waist.
“It’s lovely,” I said.
“Indeed,” he replied. “They rebuilt their home here.”
“Have you been?” I glanced over my shoulder at him.
“I have.”
I thought of all the trinkets, rugs, and art in his office and quarters. “You have been everywhere.”
His chest rumbled, the vibration soothing me. “Not everywhere, Peace, but yes, I have traveled a great deal.”
“I haven’t.” I looked forward. I hadn’t been to that many places at all.
He grabbed my chin and forced me to look back at him. “I do not care about that. I care about you.”
Before I could respond with some sickeningly soft sentiment, he seized my lips. I groaned into the touch. It was difficult to kiss from this position, but I had no inclination to move, especially when he gripped my hip and yanked me even tighter against him. The long length of his erection pressed into me, and I whined. Why were we not back in his quarters?
