Authors: Cheryl Brooks
The last rays of the day turned his hair a fiery reddish gold. As the sky darkened, his glowing pupils waxed brighter, drawing her eyes to his face. His blissful expression still visible in the ensuing twilight, she touched his cheek, tracing the upward curve of his ear to its point. At that moment, in her eyes he was the most beautiful soul in existence, if, indeed, he hadn’t always been.
Her touch slowed him as though she truly did have control. Rocking slow and deep, he pressed his forehead against hers, his hair forming a curtain that separated them both from the world. Sighing, he tilted his head back, tears glittering on his upturned cheeks as he gazed up at the sky. Whether they were tears of relief, frustration, or joy didn’t matter to Lucy. Even if she had been doing this out of pity, she would have abandoned that motivation to replace it with the truer emotion: love.
Pure, deep, and everlasting.
Tarq could already see stars twinkling overhead, and he wished on every single one of them that Lucy would be his mate. He knew he could ask her to
make
love with him, but he couldn’t find the courage to ask her to
love
him. Asking her wouldn’t make it happen. Love wasn’t something you could decide to do because it was the right thing or because someone begged you to. Either you did or you didn’t. You could grow to love someone in time—but time was something he didn’t have.
He opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come; only a purr escaped his lips. Could she tell what he meant? Probably not. He felt the chill of the night air descend on his shoulders. Lucy would be cold, especially against the side of the speeder.
How
inconsiderate
of
me.
Reaching for her hips, he held her tightly against him as he backed away from the speeder. The rocks hurt his feet, but he ignored the pain as he carried her to the tent. Ducking under the flap, he found the pile of bedding and sank to his knees. Still holding her warmth against his chest, he leaned over to lay her on the pallet. It was fully dark inside and he glanced at the glowstone suspended from the roof of the tent. As he wished for more light, it slowly illuminated, but only enough to enable him to see her. She gazed up at him with such tenderness Tarq could hardly bear to part from her, but he knew he had to. “I’ll be right back.”
Stepping outside, he checked the fire, which had already burned down to a few glowing embers and posed no danger. Then he gathered up their clothing and a few items he thought she might need and locked down the speeder.
Lucy was right where he’d left her, staring up at the glowstone with awe. “I’ve heard of these things,” she said, pointing to the stone. “They’re very rare.”
“Not on Darconia,” Tarq said. “Which is where I got it.”
Lucy nodded. “Must be nice to be able to travel around like that. How do you get from planet to planet?”
“My friend Dax has a ship. He takes me anywhere I want to go, drops me off, and then picks me up when I’m ready to leave.” Tarq folded their clothes and stacked them in the corner before securing the tent flap. “I’ve been lots of places. Some were beautiful, and some not so nice.”
“What do you think of Talus?”
“I liked Reltan. It was… peaceful, and the beach was better than most.”
“Yeah.”
Her voice sounded lost. “Do you miss it already?”
“Sort of. I’ve never been anywhere else.”
Tarq took a deep breath. “It’s not too late to go back.”
“No,” she said firmly. “No. I’m not going back. At least not for a while.”
Tarq gathered up more blankets and spread them out next to Lucy. Stretching out, he lay down beside her. “Are you cold?”
“No. I’m fine.” She hesitated. “Are you okay now?”
Tarq shook his head. “I’m just getting started.”
Rolling onto his stomach, he began again, kissing her and delighting in the feel of her hair between his fingers. Having her there, naked inside the tent, intensified her unique fragrance, sending waves of desire coursing through his blood. This time he didn’t fight it but let it flow, guiding his moves. His lips roamed over her body, tasting, feeling, enjoying… Lucy’s fingers threaded through his hair, combing it back behind his ears, massaging his scalp. He purred, rather than voiced, his appreciation as she stroked the tips of his ears. Most of his clients never bothered with that particular erogenous zone, but Lucy read his response exactly right. Soothing, stimulating, enticing—her touch was perfect. Nuzzling her breast, he took the nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue, teasing it until it was fully erect and Lucy was moaning beneath him. Then he moved on to the other one.
His hands couldn’t get enough of her; the soft globes of her breasts, her hair, her satiny skin… every part of her beckoned. Lucy fisted her hands in his hair, pulling him up for a kiss. There was nothing shy about the way she kissed him, her mouth opening to his, delving inside as she welcomed him in. She still tasted like the grapes he’d insisted she eat. How could she be so warm and loving when he’d snapped at her like that? He had no answer other than that she was Lucy, the most kind, giving, and, yes, loving woman he’d ever known. He loved everything she did to him—from pulling his hair to the way she let her fingertips run along the middle of his back.
He worked his way down her body again, this time venturing further, parting her thighs to inhale her scent and taste her sweetness. Intoxicated, he felt like he was drowning in her essence, but he didn’t care. One taste and his pulse began to pound in his ears and in his cock. Nothing could keep him from her now.
Moving up over her again, he eased into her wet heat. Slowly, with short, gentle strokes, he reached the limit, his balls resting against her skin, his cockhead pressing on the hard nub of her cervix. He felt her shudder and hug his shaft with her tight vaginal muscles and knew that another orgasm had taken her in its grasp. He pulled back, letting her hold on him fan the coronal ridge back toward the glans. Few things felt better than that, and he rocked in quickly, only to withdraw again with excruciating slowness. He teetered on the brink of ecstasy, stopping only when he knew one more pull would signal the point of no return. He wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.
Pushing against the anterior wall, he found her sweet spot. He’d heard it called other things, but in his mind, this was its rightful name. Raking the jagged edge of his penis over it made Lucy tighten up even more, squeezing him so hard he could barely move. “Relax,” he whispered. “Give me some room.”
“And you will give me joy unlike any I have ever known?”
Tarq smiled. “Something like that.”
“I’ll try.” Her breathing became slow and deep as he felt her body gradually surrender to him.
His cock played back and forth across that small area, teasing, stroking. Her tiny gasps of ecstasy drove him on, sweeping circles inside her, taking pleasure even as he gave it. His fluid elicited a climax from her at regular intervals, but he waited them out, knowing that she would soon melt around him again—a feeling he liked even better than the clenching orgasms. Then her breathing altered, and her scent underwent a subtle change. He could feel it coming; he was close himself.
Not
yet… not yet…
Suddenly, her breath went out with a hiss and he felt the rhythmic contractions begin. Only then did he let his own need take over, pumping into her with short, hard thrusts. Tarq held his breath as his body erupted, spilling his
snard
over her sensitive flesh as she cried out his name.
He cradled her in his arms as the sweeping motion of his coronal ridge began. Not ever wanting to move away from her again, he gazed down at her face; the light dusting of freckles, the gentle arch of her brow, the way her lashes lay against her cheek… she was so beautiful, so sweet… Leaning closer, he kissed her softly parted lips as a tear slid from the corner of his eye. Raising his head, he let it flow down his cheek. No woman had ever made him cry before. Lucy had done it twice.
Unfortunately, women wanted mates who were strong, and Lucy would probably see this as a sign of weakness. Too kind to tell him straight out, she would simply insist on following her original plan. Tarq would never be able to talk her out of it—even if he tried, he was sure to say the wrong thing—and he probably couldn’t fuck her out of it, either. Stashing her in the speeder and heading straight for the Noklar spaceport was his best bet, but Dax wouldn’t be there to pick him up for another month.
Tarq had money, though. He could keep Lucy in a hotel while he wined and dined her and tried to convince her to come with him. No, that wouldn’t work. She was smart. The more time she spent with him, the more she would realize he was nothing but a big dumb stud. Without her family’s repression, she would truly shine, and other men would flock to her.
She only let him make love to her because she took pity on him in his misery. Unfortunately, his dick wasn’t the only thing making him miserable. A lifetime of insecurities ganged up on him, telling him he was a fool, that no intelligent woman would ever consider him as more than a passing fancy.
Tarq did his best to ignore the warnings of his mind, trying to focus on Lucy and her scent, but he couldn’t turn off his unwanted thoughts. Women could get hooked on the effects of Zetithian
snard.
Knowing that, he should have kept his distance. He knew they both needed to rest too, but he wanted to keep her up all night. If only he could fall asleep inside her.
Lucy’s sigh interrupted his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. She was smiling up at him with joy shining forth from her eyes. He had given her that joy, which should have been enough for him.
But it wasn’t.
It didn’t even come close.
Chapter 11
Lucy awoke warm and snug with… She opened one eye the merest slit. Yes, Tarq was still there. Her sigh of relief should have awakened him, but he slept on, as relaxed and contented as a house cat. She could even hear the whisper of a purr as he breathed.
Well, that’s one wish granted. Now what do I do?
Propping herself up on her elbow, Lucy gazed at his sleeping form. He was even curled up like a cat, his back pressed up against her.
Or was she pressed up against him? Which one of them was responsible for the contact? Since she couldn’t remember falling asleep, she had to assume it was his choice. While she found this comforting, she was also intrigued. Did it help him sleep? Did it keep his “needs” at bay, or would he wake up wanting sex again?
While the idea didn’t bother her a bit, she thought it might be helpful if she at least attempted to erase some of the scent that was apparently driving him nuts. Figuring that a round with a
scrail
cloth might help, she moved slowly, inching her way out from beneath the blankets. After a quick trip outside to relieve herself, she crept over to the stack of things Tarq had brought in the night before. The odd texture of the
scrail
cloth was immediately obvious. Picking one up, she rubbed it against her arm, feeling a subtle magnetic pull on her skin, almost as though the dirt and skin oils were being vacuumed off. Her hair was the worst; it had a tendency to be oily anyway, and missing a shampoo or two had turned it into a greasy, stringy mess. Not knowing whether she needed to scrub her head with it or if a quick pass over her hair would do the trick, she tried both and was amazed with the results. Soft, clean, and silkier than usual, she shook her head, enjoying the feel as it brushed her bare shoulders. After a quick pass over the rest of her body, she rummaged through her duffel bag and found her toothbrush, thankful that Tarq had also brought in a few bottles of water.
The sound of her brushing her teeth must have awakened him, for his purring grew louder. After a few moments, he sat up and sniffed the air.
“It’s no use, Lucy. I can still smell you.”
“Sorry. Guess I ought to get dressed and go outside.”
Chuckling softly, he crawled toward her. “That’s not what I meant.” Grabbing her around the waist, he pulled her down and, pinning her beneath his body, kissed her thoroughly. He didn’t even have morning breath.
Is
there
no
end
to
his
perfection?
A tongue delving inside his mouth revealed the reason. He tasted like mint. He’d already been up and had come back to bed, which meant that he’d been the one to curl up against her. This revelation gave Lucy a warm, fuzzy sensation inside, somewhat akin to the feeling she got when a stray animal took a shine to her, which they typically did. This might have been due to the fact that she tended to hand out leftover food to any who hung around the back door to the café, but she’d managed to tame some of the most skittish that way. Even the wild trelinks would eat out of her hand, though most people couldn’t stand the ratlike creatures. Lucy saw them as being more like squirrels than rats, but she also knew that her attitude toward them was uncommon.
Tarq, however, was no stray cat. Granted, he had a tendency to roam, but he was in no need of a handout—whether it was food or sex. He could get as much as he liked of either of those things from almost anyone. It didn’t have to be from her. And it usually wasn’t. She wasn’t the first woman he’d awakened beside; he’d probably gotten up early to brush his teeth through force of habit. Lucy tried not to think about that.