He went to move fully off her, worried his weight would be too much, but she tugged him back down on top of her, one of his thighs between hers.
“Don’t move. You feel good.”
His heart thudded.
“Nobody has wanted me close afterward,” he admitted in a low voice, dropping his head into the crook of her neck. The irony of being both sought after and not wanted had not been lost on Gark. As a young man, he’d not let it bother him, especially since his military service meant he was never in one place for long enough for a relationship to develop. So he’d let himself believe flings and one-night stands were enough.
They weren’t.
Especially when some encounters ended when the women realized he didn’t have two cocks like a full-blooded Gnaggarian. He’d felt dirty after the second time that had happened, and had been celibate for years.
Until Aletta.
“They were idiots.” Her hands trailed up and down his back, tracing patterns in the sweat on his skin.
He sighed, a long-held tension releasing. Is this what he’d been missing? The acceptance of himself just as he was. The ember of the connection he’d felt when he’d first met Aletta sparked into a full-blown flame, fuelled by the scent his Gnaggarian side identified as his mate.
But would she feel the same?
Worse still, what if she didn’t and the consequences were the same as the stories said? He’d never bothered to find out, pushing aside any connection he had to his father. Something he regretted wholeheartedly now. But finding his mate, the one person in the whole universe his life would bond to, was a revelation. It was something to celebrate. He smiled. Nothing else mattered. Finding one’s mate was the single most important event in a Gnaggarian’s life.
“Aletta,” he said, pulling back to look at her.
“Mmm.” A small smile played on her lips, her eyes closed.
“I never thought I would find my mate.” He needed her to understand. Nobody had ever accepted him just as he was.
Her eyes shot open. “I’m sure you will one day.”
“One day?” He frowned. “No. Today. You are my mate.”
She pushed at his chest, and he pulled back, brows furrowed. She laughed, but it was harsh and grating, not the joyful laugh he’d heard only minutes before.
He tried again. “You are my mate. I scented that you are.”
She grimaced, and he ran a hand over his face.
“You don’t have mates? Soul-bonds?” He racked his brain for other ways to describe the mate connection, but it was more than just a marriage. It was more than that. More than legalities or shared property. A mate was your heart outside your body, the one connection for your life. A Gnaggarian rejected by their mate would live a life half-lived, never finding another companion. Nobody would ever measure up.
And that was if they weren’t driven insane.
It was a once-in-a-lifetime bond. And not every Gnaggarian found theirs, so Gark had never dared to dream he would find his.
But there was no doubt in his mind that Aletta was his mate. He may not have had the immediate, intense feeling of connection that full-blooded males of his father’s race did, but it had grown rapidly until it was a burning need to be fulfilled.
And she would turn away from that?
He couldn’t fathom the idea.
“What about lovers for life and all eternity?” That wasn’t even it, but it would have to do.
She raised her eyebrows in a look that screamed incredulity. “Marriage. You think we’re married.” She barked out a laugh.
His chest tightened. This was not going how he thought it would. How could he make her understand?
“No. It’s more than that.”
She scoffed, shaking her head.
