She blushed, but she guided his hand, replacing his tail with his fingers, showing him the rhythm and pressure she needed. He learned quickly, his eyes locked on her face as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.
When she finally came, it was with his name on her lips, her body shuddering against his as waves of pleasure washed over her. He held her through it, his free arm supporting her as she trembled. When she finally collapsed against him, he cradled her close, his wings enveloping them both in a private, scented cocoon.
“That was amazing,” she whispered, her mind still floating in post-orgasmic bliss. “I’ve never…”
“Never what?”
Never trusted anyone enough to let go like that before.But she couldn’t quite bring herself to say that. “Never enjoyed myself that much before.”
“You should always enjoy yourself that much.” His lips brushed her forehead. “You are the most beautiful, incredible creature I have ever seen.”
She laughed softly, feeling more content than she had in years. “But you don’t remember everything you’ve seen, do you?”
“No,” he admitted, but she could hear the smile in his voice. “But I know this is right. You and me.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, snuggling closer. “This feels right too.”
As she drifted back to sleep in his arms, she had the distant thought that she should probably be freaking out about how quickly this had all happened, but the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart lulled her into peaceful rest.
She would deal with the implications later.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Adjar felt like he was floating. Not the disoriented, fragmented sensation of emerging from the long sleep, but something softer, more profound. The small female in his arms was the source—her warmth, her scent, and the delicate curve of her body against his.
Jaz.
He savored the name in his mind, the way it had felt to say it while she was bringing him to completion. She had touched him with confidence, with none of the hesitation he had expected, and the sight of her pleasure had been more intoxicating than anything he had experienced in his fractured memory.
He wanted to touch her again, to explore every part of her, to learn what made her gasp and moan and call his name in that breathless tone. But she was sleeping now, her breathing soft and regular against his chest, and he would not wake her. The shadows beneath her eyes told him she still needed rest, and he would deny her nothing.
But then the wind stopped. He turned his head towards the sealed door, listening with more than his ears. The vibrations that had shuddered through the structure for days and the constant howl that had become background noise had vanished. In its place was a stillness so profound it felt like pressure against his skin.
The storm had passed.
Something fierce and desperate surged through him. He needed to be outside. He needed to feel the sky above him and stretch the muscles that had been cramped and confined for too long. His wings ached with the need to fly.
She stirred against him, making a soft sound of protest as he shifted.
“What—” She blinked up at him, amber eyes clouded with sleep. “Adjar? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.” He kept his voice low, trying to suppress the urgency thrumming through his veins. “The storm. It has stopped.”
That woke her fully. She sat up, shoving her dark hair from her face, and looked out the window.
“You’re right.” Wonder crept into her voice. “I can’t believe—how long has it been quiet?”
“Not long. Minutes.”
She was already moving, swinging her legs off the bunk and reaching for her clothes. “We need to check the damage. The rig debris, the external sensors… God, I hope the solar collectors survived…”
He watched her rush through her preparations, his chest aching. She was so alive and focused, her mind already racing ahead to problems and solutions. He found himself memorizing the quick, efficient movements of her hands, the determined set of her jaw.
My mate.
The word felt more right each time he thought it.
“Are you just going to sit there, or are you coming?”
