I stepped back into the shower, under the spray.
In the shower, I showed him how I lathered my hands with soap. Then I slowly, carefully began to wash him, using it as an excuse to discover his body. When I placed my hands on his shoulders to get him to turn around, he followed my wordless directions without complaint.
With one hand, I caressed the tip of his cock, running my hands over it as I’d wanted to since I’d first seen him naked, sliding my finger across the slight wetness there and circling my finger around the head. Then I leaned forward and licked him gently once, all around the tip before taking as much of him as I could into my mouth, sliding down on him until I reached my limit.
His cock jumped as if it was all he could do to keep from spilling himself into me right then. I moved up and down, taking him deep into my mouth and sliding back out, making tiny noises of pleasure as I did, and making his cock jump in time to my motions.
When I slid his cock out and gave it a small kiss, he groaned, and I realized he’d been holding his breath. I glanced up to find his arms outstretched, palms flat against the tiles to hold himself up.
I stood up with a self-satisfied smile and lathered my hands with soap before running them up and down the length of his cock. It grew even harder and longer under my touch—something I wouldn’t have believed possible—and along the sides of it, a series of bumpy ridges appeared, typical Khanavai physiology, I assumed, since he watched my hands in fascination and didn’t freak out.
I finished bathing him, then let him run soapy hands all over me, reveling in the feel of his skin on mine.
Afterward, we dried each other with towels. His hands were both strong and gentle, even though they were so big he could wrap them around my waist.
Finally, unable to stand it any longer, I pulled Zont toward the bed until he lifted me in his arms and carried me the final few feet.
“You should be too weak to do this,” I admonished him. “You’re still injured, you know.”
He grinned—and continued carrying me.
When he leaned down and deposited me against the pillows, I tightened my hold around his neck. He smiled against my lips and slid one knee onto the mattress between my legs. “I stay.”
“Just making sure.” I punctuated my words with tiny kisses.
Gently, he pushed me back, his palms spreading my knees apart until he could taste me. With long, sure strokes, he licked and sucked my pussy until I writhed beneath him. The feel of his mouth against me left me wet and panting, aching for more.
“Please.” I spoke in the barest whisper.
He paused, hovering over me, holding my gaze.
“Say Zont,” he demanded. His voice was scratchy with need. “Zont,” he pointed at himself, then at her, “Amelia. Mates.”
I paused, torn between the ache at the center of my being that demanded he come into me, and my need to maintain control over the situation.
If Zont isn’t my mate, then why am I here? Who could he be to me, if not my mate? Simply the man—the Khanavai warrior—who saved me first from dangerous bounty hunters and then from the Alveron Horde?
Was I in bed with him simply because he was attractive?
No. No matter what semi-logical arguments I’d made to myself earlier, that wasn’t my style.
Who is Zont to me?
Images of him from the last few days flashed across my mind, fighting the other Khanavai, carrying me into the garage,
Like ice cracking, everything I thought I knew about how I felt about Zont broke apart, tumbling away and letting loose a torrent of emotion walled up behind it.
This man was worth more than a one-night stand. He had saved me. And instead of rushing me back to the Khanavai, he had given me the chance to get to know him. To trust him. He treated me with kindness.
With love.
“Zont,” I breathed. “I don’t know yet if we’re mates. But I am willing to consider it. I swear.”
At my words, Zont slid into me with a groan, and I met him, pushing until he touched that innermost part of me, the part that had been aching for him for a lifetime, even if I hadn’t known it.
Chapter Twelve
Zont
I knew we should discuss this first. I had a million things to explain to Amelia, more to tell her. But I was drunk on the taste of her, and when she whispered my name, I was lost.
Admit it, Zont. You were lost from the moment you saw her on the screen, back on Station 21.
As she tightened around me, calling my name, I couldn’t hold back any longer, and my first orgasm tore through me, leaving me shaking and spent—for a moment.
Later, I promised himself. We will talk about everything. Once she has a working translator and can truly understand me.
Then, without my consent, my mating cock pushed through the tip of my first cock. Taken by surprise, I tried to draw myself out of Amelia, tried to stop myself. But when I attempted to pull away, she clung to my shoulders with her hands and wrapped her legs as tightly around me as possible.
“Oh,” she breathed. “You Khanavai recover fast.” With that, she began moving against me, her body working mine, guiding us both toward that point of no return.
Unable to resist her tiny, mewling cries, I pushed my mating cock into her, driven by a force stronger than my own will.
She’ll hate me for this later.
I knew it was true, but I couldn’t stop.
I won’t tell her. Unless she chooses me as her mate, I
