Page 19 of Primal Vow

He growled under his breath, the sound low and dangerous. His instincts roared within him, demanding that he claim whatever it was that called to him. That he protect it, provide for it, keep it safe from all other challengers.

That he claim it, body and soul, in a way that Taryn's blood ran hot to think about.

It was madness. Humans were the enemy. They were brutal, savage creatures, waging war on the Borraq without a single shred of honor. They fought dirty, using their technology to kill from a distance, to bring down space colonies and slaughter civilians.

Taryn had seen it with his own eyes. His blood had boiled with nothing but hatred for the creatures that could do such a thing.

But this particular human… When Rhys had found out what his crew were really on Vasz for, Rhys looked at Taryn with those wide, shocked eyes, and his scent had spoken of nothing but horror. As if the idea of attacking Borraq was evil to him.

Taryn shook his head, as if he could physically cast off the doubts that were plaguing him. It was ridiculous. Even if this one human had a shred of conscience, what did it matter? They were still enemies, fated to kill each other on the battlefield.

But Rhys was as far from a soldier as it was possible to be. He was a man just trying to make his way in the galaxy, no different from the merchants and laborers that Taryn had seen on a dozen different planets.

Rhys had dreams, too. Taryn had seen the hunger in his eyes, the way his gaze told of dreams of something more. The human was desperate, it was true, willing to take any job to escape the crushing weight of his debts.

But he was something else, too. Determined. Resilient.

Taryn's desires were simple: to serve his clan, to prove himself in battle, to keep his people safe. That was all. There were no grander ambitions to chase, no future that he longed for. He knew his place in the world, and he was content to occupy it.

But one thing was certain: this one human was intruding on those desires, and Taryn couldn't get him out of his mind.

Taryn's heart hammered in his chest. He was a fool for letting his instincts run wild, for allowing his thoughts to linger on a human. Rhys had ignited something deep within Taryn, something that growled and roared and demanded to be sated.

He leaned back against a tree, the thick, rough bark pressing into the sleek muscles of his back.

He needed to be able to resist the human's scent.

He needed to get this out of his system.

With a shaky exhale, he reached down to cup himself through his pants.

Rhys's slim body, his sharp jaw, his dark hair falling into those wide, expressive eyes… Taryn could picture it all. He could picture running his hands over every inch of that human form, claiming it for himself.

And the human form was a tempting thing to claim. As Taryn teased himself through his pants, he imagined sliding his hands under the thin fabric that separated him from Rhys, cupping the man's pert little backside. He'd lift Rhys up, light as a feather, and the human would wrap his legs around Taryn's waist, their bodies pressing together from chest to groin…

Taryn groaned as he stroked himself, his hips rocking against the rough bark of the tree. His eyes were screwed shut, his jaw clenched, as he pictured Rhys in his mind's eye.

The human would be so small in Taryn's embrace, so delicate and fragile. Taryn would have to be gentle with him as he ground their bodies together. He could already imagine the way Rhys's breath would catch in his throat, the way his eyes would go wide and dark with want.

Taryn's hand moved faster over his twin cocks, touching one and then the other. His instincts wanted him to tear those flimsy human clothes from Rhys's body, to run his hands over every inch of bare skin. His body wanted to taste the salt of Rhys's sweat on his tongue, to breathe in the intoxicating scent of him from the source.

A low growl built in Taryn's chest as he imagined bending Rhys over the nearest surface. The human would be pliant in his arms, trusting Taryn to take care of him, to give him the pleasure he so desperately craved. Taryn's fingers would stretch him open, preparing him for the thick length of one of Taryn's cocks, until Rhys was shaking and whimpering with need.

When Taryn finally pushed inside, Rhys would cry out in stunned ecstasy. He'd be so tight, so hot, gripping Taryn like he was made for him. Taryn would claim him over and over again, marking that perfect human body as his own, until Rhys was a shuddering, incoherent mess beneath him.

Taryn's hands were a blur on his aching lengths. He was so close, his thighs trembling with the effort of holding himself back. All he could think about was the most traditional urges of his instincts: claiming his mate.

With a muffled growl, Taryn found his release. His seed pulsed over his hand, hot and thick, as he imagined painting Rhys's perfect body with it. Claiming him, marking him, making him Taryn's for good.

Taryn sagged back against the tree trunk, panting hard. Frustration burned hot in his cheeks, but it was no match for the lingering tendrils of bliss that sparked along his nerves. He'd never been so affected, never had his control break like this.

Rhys was off limits. He was human, one of the enemy, and no matter how alluring he might be, Taryn couldn't allow himself to be distracted. Taryn was the second of his clan, Rael's right hand, and he had responsibilities that went far beyond the cravings of his own instincts.

Taryn cleaned himself up, tucking himself away and straightening his rumpled clothes. As he cast his gaze towards the lightening sky, he was already shoving the memory of his fantasy into a locked box in the back of his mind.

It was a lapse, nothing more. He would be stronger next time.

He would have to be. His duty to his clan was everything, and he couldn't allow a human — especially this human — distract him from that path.

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