Page 4 of Deserted

The storm howled outside, rattling the outpost’s reinforced walls. No answers would come tonight. I decided it would be best to get some rest as well.

My private quarters were in the next room over, close enough to the med bay that I could monitor her condition.

As exhaustion claimed me, my last conscious thought was of her scent—citrus and spice and something I couldn’t name—following me down into darkness.

I sawher like a desert mirage at first, bounding along the ridge of a dune. Her lithe form cut a silhouette against the dream sky, wild and free in a way no human could move in this world’s crushing gravity. This wasn’t reality. This was something else—something ancient, instinctual. The shared space where fate unveiled its design. She glanced back at me, challenge in her eyes, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She thought she could outrun me. My mate was about to learn otherwise.

She raced ahead, black hair streaming behind her like a banner of conquest. Each movement was an invitation—the sway of her hips, the flash of skin where her shirt rode up, the laughter that carried back to me on the dream-wind. My blood surged hot, a growl of anticipation rumbling in my chest.

If it was a race she wanted, she would be sorely disappointed. I am Rodinian—born to the chase, bred for pursuit. I let her gain distance, allowed her the fleeting thrill of believing she might escape, then unleashed my true speed.

I overtook her in moments, enjoying how her hair whipped behind her like a black silk ribbon. The shock on her face whenI appeared beside her turned quickly to delight. I swept her up in my arms and over my shoulder, drinking in her squeal of surprise that melted into breathless laughter.

“Put me down, you giant cat!” she demanded, but her hands were already exploring the fur along my shoulders, fingers digging in appreciatively.

“Not until I’ve claimed my prize,” I growled, carrying her toward an oasis that appeared on the horizon.

She felt perfect in my arms, her soft curves molding against my harder planes as I carried her toward the shimmering oasis that appeared ahead. The water glistened like liquid sapphires beneath twin suns that somehow didn’t burn but caressed our skin with gentle warmth. This dream-logic didn’t bother me—nothing mattered except the female in my arms, the one whose scent had called to something primal within me the moment I found her collapsed in the desert.

“You can’t catch me forever,” she teased, her breath warm against my neck. “I’m pretty fast for a human.”

“And I am Rodinian,” I rumbled, enjoying the way her body trembled against mine at the deeper register of my voice. “We do not lose our prey.”

The oasis welcomed us with lush vegetation that shouldn’t have existed in this harsh landscape. Broad-leafed trees provided dappled shade over beds of soft moss and vibrant flowers whose fragrance couldn’t compete with her scent—that intoxicating blend of citrus and spice that had rooted itself in my consciousness.

I laid her down beneath the shade, watching as she stretched like a pleasure-seeking feline, all lithe limbs and inviting curves. Her skin glowed golden in the filtered sunlight, and her eyes—dark as the space between stars—watched me with hunger that matched my own.

“You’re beautiful,” I said, the words inadequate for what stirred within me. “The mate that the universe provided for me.”

Her lips curved into a smile. “Do you know my name, desert cat? Or am I just prey to you?”

I leaned closer, inhaling deeply at the pulse point beneath her jaw where her scent was strongest. “Jasmine,” I breathed, tasting the name on my tongue. It felt right. Familiar. As though I’d been waiting to speak it my entire life.

Surprise flickered across her features. “Not fair. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

I lowered my body over hers, careful to keep my weight on my forearms as I brought my mouth to the delicate shell of her ear. My tongue traced its curve, enjoying how she shivered despite the heat.

“You already know it,” I whispered, letting my fangs graze her earlobe. “And I’ll make you say it in pleasure.”

Her breath caught, pupils dilating as arousal flooded her scent. “Tell me,” she demanded, hands coming up to tangle in the fur at the back of my neck.

I growled, allowing her to pull me down for a kiss that started gentle but quickly turned hungry. “You will say it.”

“Rhaekar,” she said on a sigh.

Her mouth was sweet, eager, opening to me as I claimed her with lips and tongue and the careful edge of teeth. I tasted her desire, felt it echo in my own body as my cock hardened against the confines of my sleep pants.

I trailed my mouth down the column of her throat, nipping at the sensitive juncture where her shoulder began. Each bite drew a gasp from her lips, each lick soothed the sting. I moved lower, tugging at her clothing that melted away as dreams allow, revealing her breasts—full and perfect, nipples pebbled with anticipation.

I took one into my mouth, suckling with deliberate pressure, watching her face contort with pleasure. Her back arched, pressing more of herself against me as my tongue swirled around the tight bud. My hand found her other breast, kneading the soft flesh before rolling her nipple between my fingers.

“Yes,” she hissed, her hips rising to seek friction against mine. “More.”

I obeyed, alternating between her breasts, learning what made her squirm, what made her moan, what made her grab fistfuls of moss beneath her. When I scraped my fangs lightly across one nipple, she cried out, her entire body shuddering.

“So responsive,” I murmured against her skin, working my way down the flat plane of her stomach. “So perfect for me.”

Her thighs parted willingly as I settled between them, my broad shoulders keeping them spread wide. I pressed my face to the junction of her thighs, inhaling deeply, my growl of approval vibrating against her most intimate flesh.

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