I nod.
“You didn’t always look like this?”
“No.”
“You’re shocked.” It's not a question, it’s a statement. “But I’m not.” Her glance is hard, compelling. It holds mine.
“This is the male I’ve been with since the first day. The one who saved me and rocked me and played his beautiful flute for me. This male right here.”
She cups her soft palm on my rough cheek.
“This male went out in violent winds and risked getting swallowed by the wraiths to save people he didn’t even know. This one,” she pokes her finger at my chest, “walked through a thousand-pound wall of alien muscle so he could welcome Allura into the safety of the group.”
“This one,” she pokes me again, harder, “took ten lashes for me because I couldn’t mine enough ore.”
Her lashes are brimming with tears. My chest tightens in confusion—this doesn’t seem like obligation to me.
“This male, this one right here,” she skims her fingers along my lips, “is the male I’m falling in love with. So shut the fuck up and kiss me.”
She throws her arms around my neck and pulls me to her for the kiss, allowing no argument. I swallow, then have to swallow again as it hits me with the force of a Rhoid windstorm that this is what everyone wants, isn’t it? To be seen, really seen for who they are? Not for the bag of skin that covers their bones? To be seen for their character and their heart?
And I have that from my KJ.
She’s kissing me like we did in the cave, with the force of someone desperate to be filled. I often wondered if her frenzy was because of the reds, but right now there isn’t a red in sight.
“I want to make love to you, A’Zul, but if it’s not the right time, if you’re too freaked out by what you saw in the mirror—”
I cut her off with another kiss. I want her more than I’ve ever wanted her, and it has nothing to do with the reds.
I don’t want to do it like animals in heat. I want to do it like two people who desire each other.
“Not like before,” I tell her as I shake my head. “I want to show you my feelings.”
Lifting her, I carry her to our bed. It’s soft and big enough for two. I remove her clothing, one item at a time, not like in the mine where it was pitch black, or the cave where it was frenzied. I do it now like a male who is unwrapping a present.
Straddling her on the bed, my knees at her hips, I lean to kiss her. Slow, easy kisses, our mouths mingling and speaking their own language. Keeping my ass in the air, away from her, I try not to touch her with my cock. I just want to focus on our mouths, this kiss.
Her hands lodge on my shoulders and rub up and down where my wings used to erupt from my skin when I flew in dragon form. Too bad she’ll never see me like that.
Before my mind got lost, when I was still capable of clear thought, I tried to shift a thousand times. At first, I thought the slavers gave me a chemical to control my shifting, then I decided it was the fumes in the mines. Then I thought . . . nothing—I couldn’t think at all. I just woke up and mined ore and went to sleep only to do it all again the next day. I was too fuzzy-headed to even dream.
My tongue strokes her, it’s like stoking a fire. Her hands move more wildly now. She cups my ass and pulls me closer.
“Slow,” I caution.
She leans up and nips my bottom lip. It feels good, so I nip hers in return. We play, taking turns being the aggressor. We’ve never played before, it was always urgent and serious. This feels better, natural.
Dipping my head to the tip of her breast I lick then bite the tip the way I know makes her moan. She bends her head to kiss wherever she can reach—my forehead and eyes and nose. I thank the Gods I don’t repel her. I’ll work on accepting myself as fully as she accepts me.
“I worry that I won’t be able to accommodate you, A’Zul,” she whispers into my ear. “I think the reds helped open me to you.”
“We’ll see. Just tell me to stop and I will.”
Slipping a finger into her channel, I notice how slick and ready she is. A small smile lifts my lips as I delight in the fact that although I may be too big for her without the reds, her desire for me is just as strong without them.
A second finger slides in easily, followed a few moments later by a third.
“Should we try, KJ?” my voice is husky with desire.
“Yes,” she says as she eagerly reaches between us and places my cockhead at her entrance.
In the cave we often coupled out of desire, but sometimes out of drive, just doing the bidding of the reds. This feels different. Saner. Deeper. I press in, so gently I wouldn’t think she could feel it except she exhales on a soft moan.
“A’Zul. Yes.”
I love hearing my real name on her lips.
Taking my time, I move deeper with every thrust, pausing when I need to, pressing in when she’s ready.
“Feels so good,” she says, almost breathless with passion.
I take special time with the bulge on my cock. She moans deep in her throat when we’re past this hurdle. It’s low and throaty and I’ve come to learn it signals her pleasure and a little pain. She’s the one
