Page 105 of Shielded Heart 1
She smiled, and it was so bright, so joyous, so beautiful that he almost couldn’t believe it was real. She leaned toward him and pressed her mouth to his, cupping his face between her hands.
Arcanthus looped his arm around her waist and tugged her flush against him.
It didn’t matter that they’d just joined; he needed her again. He rolled onto his back, pulling her atop him without breaking the kiss, and ran his hands up and down her back, over her ass and thighs, and along her arms before taking hold of his shaft.
Samantha lifted her hips, and he positioned himself at her entrance.
“I love you,” he whispered against her mouth as he slid into her, raising his hips to push deep.
She exhaled softly and repeated the words back to him breathlessly.
He kept her within his embrace, sharing her breath through their kisses. Together they found a tempo that allowed the flames of their passion to flow freely until they were both consumed from within by a raging inferno.
Well after their desire had been spent—as Samantha lay against him, sleeping—Arcanthus looked upon his beautiful mate, and his heart swelled.
He had everything he could ever want, everything he could ever need, right here in his arms. And he would destroyanyonewho tried to take it from him.
TWENTY-THREE
Days passed; Arcanthus spent as much of that time with Samantha as he could without neglecting his work. With her tablet in hand, she was often a silent presence in his workshop, her stylus never seeming to still as he alternated between the few identification chips he was under agreement to complete and the far more daunting task of locating Vaund.
He’d been mistaken to think she’d be too much of a distraction. Granted, his eyes strayed to her frequently, and he found himself stopping at least twice a day to have his way with her on one of the couches—or on the desk, the floor, and even once in the enveloping white glow of the body scanner platform—but he found her presence more grounding than anything.
She was often the only thing keeping him from sinking into despair as his repeated searches turned up nothing.
Samantha continued to spend time with the members of the security team, as well—watching shows, playing games, and training. Arcanthus accepted it; she always came back to him. Besides, he couldn’t expect her to remain in the workshop for as long as he did. Its walls could eventually drive anyone mad.
Once he completed the ID chips, he turned all his focus to the search. Samantha didn’t question his long hours of work. She talked to him about anything, about everything, when he needed a distraction from his mounting frustration, and was always drawing. She never complained when he crawled into bed hours after she’d retired—especially not when he woke her with his fingers or tongue.
Though she didn’t share all her drawings with him, she shared many, and her confidence and skill grew by the hour. Her loose sketches—many of them depicting Arcanthus—gradually increased in detail and improved in form, and he adored the look of concentration that often fell across her face while she drew, especially when her tongue slipped out to press against her upper lip. It was clear to him that she loved art, and equally clear that she’d not created much of it over the last few years.
When she showed him a colored drawing of a creature she called Mister Wiggles—which had apparently been a tinycather grandmother had kept as a pet—Arcanthus grinned. He’d never seen such an animal before, but its resemblance to Drakkal was immediately apparent; its fur had the same coloration and nearly identical patterns, and its facial features were even reminiscent of an azhera’s.
She was trepidatious at first, but Arcanthus convinced her to share the image with Drakkal.
Samantha held her tablet up to the azhera and said, “This was my grandmother’s cat, Mister Wiggles. You reminded me of him the first time we met.”
Drakkal’s brows fell low, and he looked slowly from the image to Samantha.
“Um…cats are little animals from Earth that are often kept as pets,” Sam said, “and…well…”
Arcanthus pressed his lips together and covered his mouth with a hand, holding back his laughter.
“I remind you of a tiny, domesticated animal?” Drakkal asked in a low voice.
“Yes.” Her eyes rounded, and she hurried to add, “I mean…your fur and your coloration do. Obviously, you’re not tiny, and you’re not an animal.” Samantha licked her lips. “He was really fond of cuddling, and he was really affectionate…and I think you probably are too, even if you don’t show it.”
Now Drakkal’s brows rose.
Sam dropped her gaze to the floor. “Anyway, Arc wanted me to show you. You remind me of Mister Wiggles, and, well, that makes me think of my grandmother, and home…and its always kind of comforting to see you. It helps me…helps me feel at home.”
A slight frown tugging down the corners of his mouth, Drakkal looked down at the image again. He was silent for several seconds before he said gruffly, “This is good, terran. You’re good. Would you…send this to me? I would like a copy.”
When she lifted her head, Samantha’s eyes were huge and bright. She nodded enthusiastically. All the way back to the bedroom, she wore a big grin, and couldn’t stop talking about how happy she was that Drakkal had liked it.
Arcanthus encouraged her to keep pushing, to keep practicing, to bring her imagination to life; she had such potential, and Arcanthus couldn’t stand knowing that it might’ve been snuffed out completely.
It was on the seventh morning after he’d gifted her the tablet that Arc learned the true depth of her talent and passion.
