That’s how I feel now – like I’m surrounded by a layer of glassy ice, across which cracks are forming. It’s like the intensity of Brennan’s gaze makes me feel frozen on the outside; but boils and bubbles beneath the surface.
As our gaze remains locked, the tension between us builds and builds. I stare at him – into him. Each angled line of Brennan’s face is sculpted as if it represents the ideal of male beauty.
If this towering, marble-skinned warrior had landed on OId-Earth during the era of the Roman empire, Brennan would no doubt be hailed as a God or a Titan. I feel so small beneath his gaze – and now there’s heat smoldering in his no-longer cold eyes. He’s drinking me in like he’s thirsted for me his entire life – as if he’s burning my face onto his mind forever, so I can never truly leave him.
Then, to my astonishment, Brennan leans in – and suddenly his lips find mine; hungry, but restrained. My own need for him has been building ever since I saw Brennan and his battle-brothers stride through the gate into my father’s estate, and the feeling of his lips against mine is more than I can process.
I feel a deep, insistent hunger burning inside of me, as the towering Aurelian presses his soft lips against mine. I honestly don’t know what to do. It’s as if my first real kiss is a stolen one – taken from me against my will by my alien captor, just like I myself was taken against my will from my home.
But is it really against my will? For a second, I just lose myself in the pressure of his lips against mine – of the sensual heat of his breath in my mouth…
…and then, suddenly, I’m snapped out of my trance – as if the rational part of my brain finally broke free and demanded action.
I use my other hand – the one that’s not cuffed to him – to shove against Brennan’s chest. My foggy brain is still processing what’s happening, and I can’t afford to get swept up in this moment like every other iota of my being is pleading me to.
To Brennan’s credit, his reaction is instantaneous. The moment I show resistance, the towering Aurelian pulls his lips from mine and leans back. Just as quickly as it happened in the first place, our kiss is suddenly over – and we’re back to lying on the ground together, the air heady and awkward between us.
As I fight to control my pounding heart, and the needy throb between my thighs, Brennan lifts his free hand to the one with the cuff around his wrist. He unlocks the handcuffs, letting them fall to the ground with a clang.
I nervously take back my free arm, rubbing the spot where the metal had touched my skin.
“Go get cleaned up.”
Brennan’s voice is flat. There’s no kindness in his words – as if the moment that just happened between us had been a figment of my imagination.
But it wasn’t. I know that, and Brennan clearly knows that, too.
As I sit there, Brennan blinks – as if waking from the same trance I’d lost myself in.
His brows furrow – confusion obvious on his handsome face. It’s not so much that he doesn’t seem to have noticed that he’d just kissed me – but like he’s processing everything around him except that awkward fact.
I say nothing, of course. My whole body is trembling. I’m not sure how to feel about what happened.
Brennan had ordered me to get cleaned up, and my backside tingles with the memory of his handprint from the previous day. I have no desire to earn additional punishment from this huge, hulking warrior.
I pull myself from my sleeping bag, squeezing my thighs together as I think back to the touch of Brennan’s kiss against my lips.
Of course, there’s no point reading too much into it. Brennan probably has his own harem back on Colossus, just like most of the Aurelian Warriors who’ve completed their hundred years of service to the Empire.
He, Otho, and Lazar probably share a sprawling estate filled with a hundred women – women Brennan probably kisses each and every day.
That kiss might have meant something to me – my first real kiss, stolen by a God-like alien, in this dank and gloomy basement…
…but it was probably nothing special to him. For Brennan, my lips can’t have been any more life-changing than the lips of all the dozens or hundreds of other women he’s kissed. My body might still be trembling with the memory of it, but I’d be a fool to think what might have been my first kiss – my first intimate memory with any man – meant anything significant to him.
As I cross the basement, I see Otho sleeping deeply in his own bag. He must have come back in after I’d fallen asleep the night before.
I look around, but the third Aurelian – Lazar – is nowhere to be seen.
Perhaps he’s outside, patrolling – just like Gerard would do for me. I remember Brennan ordering his blood-brothers to take watch duty in turns.
As I pass him, I look down at the warrior with the close-cropped mohawk haircut.
It’s so strange seeing Otho asleep. He’s clearly the deadliest of the three Aurelians – and the long scar on his face gives him a dangerous look that both scares and excites me.
When he’s asleep, though? He looks like a big, hibernating bear – a predator who sleeps so soundly because he knows there’s little out there that poses a risk to him.
How I envy that!
I cross over to the window, where the duffel back of items that the Aurelians had chosen for me is still lying beneath the
