He was a good man, always taking care of her.
A new comm unit sat on a nearby table, an example of how Havik anticipated her needs. She didn’t have to explain how she lost her comm unit. He already had a replacement ready.
He was perfect if she didn’t think too hard about why he didn’t have a clan or how his first wife left. Two tiny little quibbles, really.
Thalia rolled her eyes at her sarcasm. She liked him, felt dangerously close to loving him, but she needed to know.
Stabs scurried across the floor and climbed into her lap. “Oof, you’re getting big,” she said in a quiet voice.”
With Stabs in her lap, she synced up the new comm unit to her identification chip. Within moments, she had verification that the warlord sent the money he promised. Her Fuck You money.
She could go anywhere, not just Earth, but part of her wondered if she should return just to see Nicky in a prison uniform. If he were in the ground, she’d piss on his grave.
That didn’t seem big enough. The Thalia from before going into the stasis chamber would have been satisfied with revenge. Plenty of people never saw justice come for those who wrong them, so why shouldn’t she savor a rare luxury? But if she did that, then what?
Thalia didn’t know.
For the first time, she didn’t have to scramble for the necessities to keep body and soul together. She did not have a boss to please or a job to do. She just had herself, and that felt too big.
She could go back to school. That idea appealed to her. The people who tried to control her had wanted her to be uneducated. Well, they wanted her dumb and ignorant, but what happened was a lack of formal education.
Okay, go to school. For what?
College? Medical school? No, that felt wrong. As much as she liked working for Doc, she wasn’t doctor material. Nursing? That fit better but wasn’t perfect.
And then what?
The mountain on the bed shifted as Havik rolled over. Despite the darkness, she could feel him watching her.
She didn’t want to go.
Havik
“I can hear you thinking.” Havik shifted, pulling back the cover to invite his mate back to bed. He had patiently waited for her return but apparently, she needed prompting. “I do not appreciate the empty spot beside me.”
“Is that so?” The mattress dipped as she climbed back in. She nestled into him, fitting like they slept this way every night.
They should.
Moving without thought, his hands ran the length of her arms. He traced the curve of her hip, the gentle slope where her lower back met her ass and returned up to her shoulders. The juncture where her shoulder met her neck fascinated him. Her slender neck held a deceptive strength, as did her entire body.
“Do you require another pain suppressant?” he asked.
“I’m fine. Nothing sleep won’t fix.”
Carefully, he checked her wounds. They did not appear to be inflamed. He knew Terrans healed slowly, but her wounds upset him. Clever and quick-witted, he hated the idea of her in pain. He wanted her to be completely healed, now. Worse, he found evidence of older scarring. “Who did this?”
“Which one? Oh.” She twisted to look. His index finger and thumb framed the circular scar.
“Which one? Which one?!” Someone hurt her multiple times and he wanted blood.
She flinched. For a second, he felt wretched, frightening her. Then she rolled to her knees and lifted her chin, ready to fight.
He loved her.
It hit him hard, slamming him right in the chest. Whatever pain happened to her in the past may have marked her skin, but it did not define her. She came through the crucible stronger. He marveled at her.
He cupped her face, his finger tangling into her ridiculous green and sand hair. He leaned in, watching carefully for signs of distress. “Come here and kiss your mate.”
She sucked her breath in, as if surprised, and then a wicked gleam hit her eye.
They had no more words as her lips crashed into his. He drank her deep, barely breathing. She yielded, opening so sweetly for him, and she tasted even sweeter.
Mindful of her injuries, he lowered her to the mattress. Sleep clothes vanished. In the dim light, her beigey-pink skin glowed.
Lovely.
Taking his time, he explored the curves and contours of her, caressing her. Savoring. Her breaths fit perfectly in his mouth as he teased the nipples. Her back arched, gasping in pleasure.
More.
He tasted her skin, licking and kissing his way down to the juncture of her thighs. Her scent grew stronger, the cool oasis water and desert blooms concentrated and heady enough to overwhelm. Spreading her open, he admired the slick beige flesh.
She moaned and lifted her hips, wanting him.
Her taste exploded on his tongue, musk, salt and her undeniable essence. Perfect. He consumed her with the fever of a starving man, gorging himself because he never had a partner he wanted to please so much.
Brought to the edge, she trembled and pleaded with the need for release.
He probed her with a finger, then two. Her tight flesh clamped around him. So hot. She lifted her hips, riding his hand, but it was not enough. His cock leaked, and he desperately wanted to bury himself in her heat.
“Please, Havik. I need you,” she begged.
Looming over her, he planted a hand on either side of her head. Their breath mingled. She reached up and stroked the glowing tattoos at his shoulders. “Gorgeous, like you’re carved of starlight,” she whispered.
He lowered his mouth in a feverish kiss.
“If we go further, I will claim you,” he said.
She licked her lips, tasting herself. “I want that.”
“I will bite you here.” His lips brushed the curve of her neck.
“Fuck yes,” she moaned.
“Tomorrow we have much to discuss.”
She lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist. “You talk too much.”
“Said no one ever.”
Her eyes went wide. “Was that a
