His muscles clenched involuntarily, his breath catching. “Wren…”
“Fine.” She withdrew her hands, and blast it all to hells, he wanted them back. “If not for your desire to complete your brother’s mission, would you have ever come looking for me?”
The answer was so obviously “affirmative” that he paused to second-guess he’d heard the question correctly. “When Bolivarr broke the news that you were the Sacred Key, it felt like the fates had finally provided a way for us to be together.”
“But you waited four years.”
“I wasn’t going to risk your life out of my impatience to see you again. When the mission allowed, I made my move.”
“Ah. Of course. The mission comes first. I am the means to an end. Valued for my blood, my DNA. My special powers. Even with you. You obtained the Sacred Key, and you mustn’t play with it.” She rolled on her side, drawing her knees to her chest. “I’m cursed.”
“How can you think that?”
“How? ‘I do not want her misinterpreting my intentions,’” she said, mimicking his voice—and doing a blasted good job of it, he hated to admit. “Translated: you won’t touch me because you fear I’ll think our fake marriage will lead to a real one.”
“That’s not entirely true.”
“But not false, either, eh?” She flipped onto her back, her wild hair fanning out over the pillow. “Then clarify—your actions and your words. Go on. I’m listening.” She arched her back, stretching her arms over her head like a feline that had cornered its prey, luxuriating before landing the killing blow.
Tell her.“I did horrendous things to win your hand. To that end, I was determined to have you recognize the marriage, and I was furious when you didn’t. I’d convinced myself your acquiescence would justify my deeds. I realized my error the day I found you in the camp. I want…”I want to win your heart,he ached to say—but jammed his teeth together. “You’re a free and independent woman. You owe me nothing.”
It seemed to take her a beat to absorb that. A gentler note crept into her tone. “That’s why you keep pulling away. You question your motives for being with me.”
He nodded curtly.
She squeezed her eyes closed for a moment.
“Whatever happens as we go forward, know that I expect nothing from you,” he said. “It doesn’t mean I don’t want more. But that’s not the urgency of the moment. We’ll focus on getting you to the treasure, as Bolivarr would have wanted.”
“And Sabra.”
“Aye.” He nodded. “Making sure it’s used for good.”
“To help war victims. And children. All across the galaxy.” Wren flattened her hand on his chest. “Aral Mawndarr, you had every right to force my hand, to take me as your wife. It was the way of our people—the Drakken nobility—for thousands of years. Yet you’ve given me the freedom to stay or walk away. It sets you apart from all the others, even Sabra. Not once did she or anyone ever ask what I wanted. No one’s ever given me a choice—until you.” She scooted closer. “I choose to touch you.” She crossed her arms and pulled her nightshirt over her head, flinging it away.
His lungs emptied. She had the sweetest little body, strong and perfect.
“I choose to feel you touch me.” She brought her fingertips to his jaw and said, “Everywhere.”
He groaned before their lips even touched.
It started out slow, that kiss, their breath mingling. But as she urged him on, need overtook him. They fell onto the mattress, exploring each other’s bodies, kissing, tasting. Touching. He didn’t know where to start, or to end. He wanted all of her, all at once.Slow down,he told himself.
He let her take him into her body, holding still as she adjusted to him, his lips pressed to the side of her throat, his body coiling with need, painfully taut. He wanted her so badly he shook.
“Aral.” She sucked in a breath, a sharp hiss.
“Are you all right?” He sounded normal enough, despite having to push each word though clenched teeth, but he was fairly certain he was about to detonate.
“No.” Her teeth scored his shoulder. “If you don’t start moving, I’m going to die.”
“Mmm. That I can do.” He didn’t say much else after that, at least not full sentences. He was too lost in the storm that was Wren, a storm of sensation, her fingers digging into his back as she arched into him, her moans muffled against his body, her sweet scent, her musk. His name on her lips. His bloody amazement at it all.
He’d thought of this for so long, dreamed of her, but it didn’t come close to the reality. Maybe it was fate that had brought them together, or just plain luck. But here they were, by some miracle.
With equal parts wonder and lust, he felt her climax. She came fast and hard, and it did him in. His release slammed into him like a sonic boom, and it about killed him to not let go and spin mindlessly into the sensory abyss. But he kept the brakes on, knowing it was her first time. If he was lucky and the fates shone upon him, there would be a next time, and dare he wish it, more. Every night for the rest of their lives.
But for now,this…