Page 50 of The Alien Warlord's Fated Mate

He swallowed hard. No, he could not allow such. He must find a way to win her acceptance.

Her tug on his arm interrupted his thoughts. “Up,” she said firmly.

Silently, he rose, mutely accepting her guidance as she positioned him just so and cleansed his buttocks, legs, and feet.

Then she stood before him, her gaze on his hardening cock.

He took her hands in his and said, gently, “I shall cleanse the remainder.”

“No, I—” She shook her head and tugged her hands free. “I want to.”

Before he could argue, her hands encircled his cock, sliding from base to tip in one smooth, slick caress.

His head fell back on a low groan. “Mia, you must not.”

“Why?”

“Much more and I will lose control.”

Her fingers teased his tip, drawing the first drops of moisture from his cock. “Maybe I want you to lose control. Maybe I want to be the one you lose control with.”

His head dropped forward and his gaze clashed sharply with hers. “If I lose control, there will be no stopping the rutting.”

A knowing, purely feminine smile played around her soft lips. “I know.”

Before he could do more than gawp at her, her hands slid away and she stepped out of the shower.

“Rinse off,” she said over her shoulder, her eyes a flash of blue under dark lashes. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

He gazed at her as she retrieved a drying cloth and rubbed it over her hair. Was she teasing him, as mates were wont to do? Did she truly feel so comfortable in the trust growing between them?

And if she did, should he not welcome this temptress his mate had become?

He cut the water off and stepped out of the stall behind her, purposefully crowding her in the tiny room. “Mate,” he said, deliberately adding an edgy snarl to his voice, “you dare much.”

Her laughter pealed like the daintiest of bells, and she smiled warmly at him, until he could no longer resist the urge to steal another kiss.

Leona had dragged Mia and Kira to a weekend spa retreat once, not long after they’d met.

That was nothing compared to the way Zoran pampered her. After their shower, he gently rubbed a soothing, citrus-smelling ointment over the punctures and bruises marring her skin, murmuring soft praise to her as he tended each mark. His hands smoothed over her hair, gently untangling it as he brushed it dry, then he rubbed a lightweight conditioner through it and presented her with a small box of human and Xeruvian toiletries.

She nearly tackled him when she found the deodorant. He seemed bemused by the kisses she peppered across his cheeks.

Together, they changed the bedding. He frowned over the holes he found on her side of the bed and spoke abruptly into his ever-present wrist device. And then he helped her sort through her meager wardrobe and find something suitable to wear for their journey around hisjutji, dressing her in one of his robes when she found a smudge of dirt on her own.

On him, theshinsek’ukhit mid-thigh. On her, it fell below her knees, amusing her no end.

And then he herded her into his conveyance and spent the entire journey across his jutji talking with her, sharing details of his childhood when she asked, drawing her into a wide-ranging conversation about her own childhood. She discovered within herself a deep desire to take him there, to show him the places where she and her parents had lived. To introduce him to the people and the cultures of Earth the way he was introducing her to Zephyria.

Mia stood beside him now on a shaded balcony overlooking acre upon acre of cultivated land, leaning her back against his front, his arms wrapped loosely around her. The jungle had been tamed here, trimmed back away from the fields and orchards. She was surprised to see both Xeruvians and machines tending the crops.

Her fingers itched to study the plants closely. Zoran seemed to have anticipated her needs. When she’d drunk her fill of the view, he led her hand in hand through the building that served as both his local base of operations and his on-site residence to a mini science center. There, he introduced her to his agricultural team and indulgently observed the lively conversation she drew them into, clicking his teeth in gentle humor when she pulled out her tablet and made notes.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “I’m here to help,” she reminded him, earning a fierce kiss.

After, they retreated to the balcony where brunch had been set out for them. Zoran nudged fresh fruit her way. “I should like to feed you this someday.”

“We’re working on it,” she said. “Someoneis working on it. Allergen tests. Here.”

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