Page 94 of The Commander

“Better.” He opened his mouth on her skin and nipped her. “Safer.” Another teasing bite.

“How can that happen? Your people tried to kill you. My people want to kill you, us. Anyone. Even you can’t fix this world.”

“I’d make it safe for you, pet.” He licked a path down to her mound, hovering above her slit. Her hips bucked.

“Can’t.”

Rolling his face against her skin he pitched his voice so that she could hear him. “Are you saying you don’t want to get round and full with my child? You don’t want your tits to get nice and full with milk? You don’t want to hold my son in your arms and kiss his forehead?”

As soon as he said it like that, she wanted it. The words landed, an ungerminated seed of an idea. The thing split, and lacy shoots of greenery took root. Lodged there. Already planted before she could stop it.

Imagining herself, heavy with this giant of a man’s child, laughing as she tried to get out of a chair, her belly so comically bigshe couldn’t bend in half. Him rushing to her aid, fiercely solicitous, picking her up and refusing to put her down until she told him what she wanted.

She could see the same chair. Him sitting there. With a baby wrapped up in blankets and a look of bliss on his face.

Her pussy clenched. Hard. Painful. Empty.

How could she bring a child into this world? They were lying to themselves. They’d never be safe. She’d seen those muzzle heads. “No. No. I’m not sure why I wake up in the morning. How can I bring children into a world like this?” He stopped and lifted his head.

She didn’t want him to stop and started to sit up.

Gently, he pressed her back down. “I will have to convince you to change your mind then, Kitten. Prove to you that I can protect you. Provide for you. Make you mindless on the end of my cock.” He lowered her shirts, smoothing the fabric.

“We can’t.” She tried again, forcing more conviction into her voice. Why did the idea of children sound so good now? Nothing had changed in this world. Now wasn’t a good time to talk about this, but she’d noticed that Bastian’s favorite time to ask her questions and talk was during sex.

“Are you sure?”

With her shirts down he could get to her neck. He cuddled in close over her and filled her vision. His bare skin ate up the night, melded him to the dark, made her think he was as insubstantial as shadow. She couldn’t really see him with her eyes. Instead, her other senses came through. Every nerve ending in her body followed him, focused on him. Felt him.

When his hot rough tongue licked over her neck, her cheek, near the shell of her ear she was expecting it. Eager even. Offering him more space, trying to pull her clothing down. If she hadn’t been holding her arm, she’d have her free hand against the back of his head, happily guiding him down where she knew that tongue could make her feel so good.

His scent in her nose went right to her head. He easily took her out of herself. She brought her legs up, opened them. Granted permission. Trusting him to keep her steady.

“Who am I to you?” he asked.

She realized she could tell him anything he wanted; these secrets held no power over her. She couldn’t hold on to feelings she didn’t have. This alien no longer stood as her enemy. She’d admitted it to herself now it was time to admit it to him without a fight. “My mate.”

“Yes. Mate.” His words were a growl, his chest rattling, in a promise that sent a wave of heat crashing through her. His heart beat steady against her chest as he pressed deeply against her body, echoing her own racing pulse.

The rough pads of his fingertips trailed along her skin. The outside of her thighs and across the tops. Around her knee. He kept the pace viciously slow. It felt lovely. Another time and she’d fall asleep to that gentle caress.

Clenching her teeth, she choked back her begging. It was too soon to beg, not when she knew he liked it so much. He had a wicked, alien extra-sensory perception and knew all the things to do that would make her body respond exactly how he wanted.

“I want to feed, but the taste of you goes to my head. Later. Will feed later. Are you wet? You smell wet.”

“What do you think?” she asked back, coyly, wanting him to touch her there and find out for himself.

He chuckled when his fingers reached their destination and discovered her slick eagerness. Surely, he must have known. She’d been wet for some time, maybe since seeing him rip those red hats apart, black eyes furious as he protected her.

Nothing would stop him. Amid their escape, the deaths, and violence, his willingness to kill for her sake summoned her feral nature. She hated herself for it, a little, but couldn’t help the feeling.

He let out a low groan of approval as his fingers delved deeper, traced her core and over the promising swell of her clit. “What a good kitty you are. Willing. Needy. This is how to be ready for your fucking.”

“Bastian,” she moaned, her body writhing as he found and strummed the perfect spot. Pressure built. An instant delicious tension craving release. It had been too long, perhaps a whole day since he had touched her this way and she went instantly to the edge. She feared that if he told her to she’d climax on his command.

Keeping his touch too light, his mouth hovered over her throat. He kissed, licked, let her feel his teeth. Drew tingles of sensation with every touch, under his skin in the hidden pocket of his body where his cock waited. Lashing, eager to be released. His need matched hers. Their bodies responded to each other with intoxicating synchronicity.

He bent, bracing her as he leaned down to where his hand moved. She heard his deep inhale. “You smell like you want me as much as I want you.”

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