Page 49 of The Alien Warlord's Fated Mate

Chapter Thirteen

Zoran carried Mia into the shower stall and knelt before her, his hands gentle as he scrubbed the evidence of their love from her fragile, human body.

She rested one hand atop his shoulder, starting down at him with the strangest expression. “You don’t have to bathe me.”

“I wish to,” he said gruffly.

“Do I get to bathe you? Like on the ship?”

“If it so pleases you.”

“I think it will.”

He glanced sharply at her face, trying to read her mood. She was ever happy, hispjora-la, seldom driven to the shadow emotions even when he pushed her where she did not wish to go. Or, rather, those dark depths never held her long. Her humor remained irrepressible. He had never considered such a trait important until meeting her. Now, he was certain he couldn’t live without it.

Her fingers trailed lightly from his shoulder to his jaw. “You have a nice body.”

Strangely, her words provoked an odd shyness within him, akin to, but not quite, embarrassment. He dropped his gaze to the curves of her body and soaped her midriff, cleansing his seed away.

“Well, you do,” she continued. “All hard muscle and, and manliness.”

“Manliness?”

“Yes, manliness. I like it.”

His cock twitched, heavy between his thighs. If she continued in this manner, he might forget his promise and pin her against the stall with hismanliness.

Carefully, he slid his fingers between her thighs, testing her readiness. She hissed in a small breath as his fingers grazed her womanly folds, moaned softly when he cleansed the bruised mark he’d given her, high on her thigh. A private mark, made for them alone. One day, perhaps, he would bear her marks upon his flesh, a measure of her desire for him. A measure of her love.

The thought ripped through him, burning his skin from the inside out, and a keening need rose within him as swiftly and surely as a flock of not-dragons startled out of the jungle canopy. Yes, he wanted her love, every drop she could willingly give him. He wanted her to welcome him openly, to draw him down upon her in their bed and coax him into her body. Wanted her to wrap her hands around his horns and dig her teeth into his throat and wear his marks proudly.

His hands tightened on her hips, and he dipped his head, dragging the tip of his horn along the mark he had bitten into her thigh, an instinctive gesture torn out of soul-deep need. Savagely, he disciplined his desire for her. Their play had left her sore. She was not ready for more, and he would not abuse her in such a manner.

Force the mark on her, yes, for her own safety and his peace of mind, to abate the trilling call of the mating instinct.

Force her to bear his desire?Never. Surely even the mindless mating frenzy could not override this vow.

Quickly, before his body betrayed him, he washed her legs and feet, then stood and turned her into the water, rinsing her. She tipped her head back into the warm spray, smiling sensually as he lathered her hair from the scalp out. The movement stretched the elegant lines of her throat and thrust her breasts forward. With water rolling down the ivory curves of her body, she appeared more goddess than fleshly being.

A possessive growl rolled out of his chest.Hisgoddess, forever to cherish and adore.

“That feels amazing,” she purred. “I swear, we’re never showering alone again.”

“Greedy littleklika,” he said, pleased.

Her laughter filled the stall. “I guess so. I mean, if we’re going to be mates—”

He bared his fangs at her, though her eyes remained closed and she could not possibly see the reprimand. “If?”

“Mates do things together.”

“Then you will not be averse to touring ourjutjitoday.”

Her eyes popped open and she gazed happily up at him, her expression so sunny, his heart stuttered. “I would love to! Ok, my turn.”

She guided him around with tiny shoves, pulled on his arms until he knelt before her under the water’s spray. She filled her hands with bathing scrubs and washed his hair, rubbing his scalp in a gentle massage. Her fingers glanced innocently along his horns, sending shuddering heat through him. He wrested himself away from the pleasure, focusing on his breathing to keep the mating instinct from shoving him into a frenzy.

He could feel it building in him. Their morning play had appeased it somewhat, allowing him to retain control, but if she did not accept him soon, fully accept him, he feared the frenzy would overwhelm him. He knew his own mind, knew he would not force her, but the frenzy would push him anyway, frightening her.

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