Sasha panted desperately for a moment, peered down at where their bodies were joined, and then looked back up at Whelon.
As their eyes met, she softened, her body relaxing under him, muscles and joints loosening and becoming pliable once more.
“I’m okay,” she murmured softly.
He kept his eyes on hers, watching for any pain as he very slowly pushed himself the rest of the way into her waiting heat.
She was so tight it felt like he would never be able to thrust. He closed his eyes and rested his head on her shoulder, assaulted from all angles as her pussy clenched and spasmed around his cock. When her inner muscles calmed, he gasped and looked into her eyes.
All fear was gone. There was simply an endless expanse of calm acceptance and budding desire once again. He kept his eyes on hers while he withdrew and she sucked in a sharp breath, relaxing her hips as he moved. She didn’t look away but kept her dark blue eyes fixed on his face. Their locked stares seemed to calm her, so Whelon kept looking at her, increasing the intimacy of this moment.
As he thrust in again, he cupped her cheek with one hand and kissed her. She rocked her head back, chasing his tongue with her own. He pressed himself into her as deeply as he could, feeling her body gripping and squeezing his cock.
He stroked her hair as he pulled back from the kiss. He caressed her arm, running his fingers down it until their palms were connected and at exactly the same time, they laced their fingers together.
Their eyes remained locked and he was dying, drowning in those oceans of blue. He couldn’t look away and felt he could simply fall into their depths. Her eyes seemed to open even wider as he began to thrust harder and faster, as if her pussy truly meant to swallow him. Her inner muscles had loosened, and she was so wet he could thrust harder and deeper, which only opened her core to him further.
He arched his spine and let out a sharp cry as he flexed his hips, thrusting as deeply into her as he could. She cried out and he brought his attention back to his mate, seeing her eyes still locked onto his face. He put his forehead to hers and made short, slow strokes as he stared into her eyes.
The closeness and tempo of the thrusting drew out the pleasure to an almost impossible building of desire. She kept her gaze on his and he didn’t look away as he pistoned his hips. He felt his release edging closer and closer as his cock thickened, stretching her even more.
As the hard head hit the soft, deep end of her, she cried out with every thrust. He stayed in position, their foreheads together so they could remain caught in each other’s gazes.
His climax crested slowly, a thing of small, pleasurable moments that built and spilt over in a crashing wave of sensation. The gasp that tore out of him was ragged, as if he had received a near fatal wound. As he collapsed on top of her, he felt her heat spasming around him and he knew he had satisfied his mate many times over.
As he slipped down to lie beside her, he gathered her in his arms and experienced an encompassing sense of joy that he had pleasured his mate so thoroughly. His own release was not important, not when it measured against her ultimate ecstasy.
He held her even tighter against his chest, knowing he had a lot of work to do in helping his mate reach her sexual peak.
And he was just the Preor for the task.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The low rumble of voices cascaded around Sasha in a cacophony of noise as she stood in the corner of the great ballroom. The Regal Hotel was the only place to hold such an important event, and the ballroom, surrounding suites, and dining room were filled with brightly dressed women and men strapped neatly into tuxedos.
Out of the Preor, she couldn’t decide who appeared more out of place—those who wore the traditional katoth pants and leather straps, or those who attempted to wear human clothes. She spied Choler and Radoo across the room and grinned at them, giving them a small wave hello.
Choler gestured back, raising his champagne glass. Both of them had tuxedos specially made with long, neat slits for their wings to fit through in their jackets. They looked unbelievably good, a mixture of human familiarity and alien strangeness.
Others… had not done so well. Vende, for instance, wore dark gray suit pants with his katoth straps of office. He informed Dawn he wasn’t going anywhere without his badges of rank and honors he had earned. The overall effect was something like Spartacus getting lost in a modern department store.
“Are we ready?” Sasha addressed her crew, a short girl with spiky black hair named Kerry and a tall skinny guy named Mark. They were both film students and completely stunned to be the camera crew for the famous Sasha Dane.
She wore a long, fin-train dress of flawless black that glittered with tiny diamonds. The elegant, simple lines flattered her, and she knew she looked stunning. It was important that the ball went perfectly, and Sasha would be its public face.
Across the room she spied Melissa sitting in a big armchair, her ever-present mate Jarek standing guard at her side. There was a wheelchair and ambulance standing by for her. All the Preor had protested her attending, but she had insisted that all mates were needed at the ball. It was true. Without her, they were missing the very first mate, the first to be affected by the Knowing. Sasha made a mental note to tell her to go home before the
