“May I?” he asks, and the careful control in his voice makes heat pool low in my belly.
Instead of answering, I pull the fabric over my head myself, watching his pale eyes darken as they travel over newly exposed skin. Hishands follow the path of his gaze, reverent and possessive simultaneously.
“Three years,” he murmurs, tracing the curve of my collarbone with one finger. “Three years of imagining this and never believing it could be real.”
I reach for his courier uniform, needing to touch him, to see if he’s as precisely alien everywhere as I’ve imagined. He helps me strip away the fabric, and my breath catches at what’s revealed.
Naked, Ja’war is a study in alien perfection. His pale blue skin seems to glow in the ship’s ambient lighting, the dark circulatory patterns mapping intricate designs across his chest, down his arms, disappearing below his waist. The patterns pulse faster now, responding to his arousal, and I’m mesmerized by the way they shift and flow like living art beneath his skin.
His build is lean and predatory, all controlled strength and dangerous grace. Broad shoulders taper to a narrow waist, his abs carved in sharp definition that the circulatory patterns trace like a roadmap to temptation. The dark veining follows the cut of muscle, emphasizing the deep V that disappears beneath his narrow hips, drawing my gaze inevitably downward to where his alien anatomy waits, unmistakably aroused and fascinatingly different from human—larger, with subtle ridges that make my core clench with anticipation.
“You’re beautiful,” I breathe, tracing one of the patterns with my fingertip. It darkens under my touch, and he shudders.
“Those are... sensitive,” he manages, his voice rougher now.
“Good.” I lean forward to trace the same pattern with my tongue, tasting salt and something uniquely alien—like ozone and winter air and something that makes my hindbrain purr with satisfaction.
The sound he makes is pure alien predator losing control, a rumbling growl that vibrates through his chest and into my bones. His hands tangle in my hair, holding me against him as I explore the landscape of his desire. Every touch teaches me something new about Xarian anatomy—the way his pulse points thrum with sub-harmonic frequencies, how his skin warms under my mouth, the places that make his careful control crack.
When I bite gently at a particularly dark pattern near his collarbone, he growls and lifts me bodily, carrying me to the bed with predatory grace. The bio-panels around us flare brilliant blue, responding to our elevated heart rates and the pheromones flooding the air—his scent sharper now, more concentrated, making my mouth water with need.
He lays me down like I’m something precious and dangerous, his gaze traveling over me with hungry appreciation. “The claiming bite has made you more sensitive to my touch,” he says, his voice dropping to that sub-harmonic register that makes my bones hum. “Every nerve ending is enhanced, every sensation amplified.”
To prove his point, he traces one finger along my inner arm, and I gasp as pleasure shoots through me like electricity. The simple touch feels like he’s caressing nerve endings I’ve never known existed.
“How much more sensitive?” I ask breathlessly.
His smile is pure predator. “Let me show you.”
What follows is a systematic exploration that feels like worship and claiming combined. His mouth maps every inch of skin, starting with the sensitive hollow of my throat, working his way down with deliberate precision. When he reaches my breasts, he pauses, his pale eyes meeting mine with predatory hunger.
“Three years of imagining how you’d taste,” he murmurs, before taking one nipple into his mouth.
The sensation is electric, amplified by the claiming bite until I arch off the bed with a cry. His alien tongue is rougher than human, textured in a way that sends lightning through my nervous system. He lavishes attention on one breast while his hand claims the other, rolling and teasing the peak until I’m gasping his name.
When he switches sides, using his fangs to graze gently across the sensitive flesh, I nearly come undone completely. The careful scrape of alien teeth against hypersensitive skin makes me writhe beneath him, desperate for more contact.
“Divine,” he growls against my skin, the vibration adding another layer of sensation. “So responsive. The claiming bite has awakened every nerve ending.”
He trails lower, his mouth finding places that make me arch and cry out, learning my responses with alien precision. The claiming bite’s effects turn every kiss into lightning, every caress into fire.
His scent surrounds me completely now—that intoxicating blend of winter air and ozone and something purely Xarian that makes my body respond on a level deeper than conscious thought. When he breathes against my skin, I can smell my own arousal mixing with his, creating a heady cocktail that makes the ship’s bio-panels pulse brighter.
When his fangs graze the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, I nearly come undone completely. The careful scrape of alien teeth against hypersensitive flesh sends me spiraling toward the edge embarrassingly fast.
“Not yet,” he rumbles against my skin, the vibration making me shiver. “I want to taste all of you first.”
His tongue follows the path his fangs have traced, and I fist my hands in the starlight fabric beneath me, fighting to maintain somesemblance of control. He tastes me like I’m sustenance he’s been denied for centuries, thorough and reverent and absolutely devastating in his focus.
The bio-panels pulse brighter, creating a light show that bathes our skin in shifting blues and purples. The air around us grows thick with the scent of arousal and alien pheromones, and I can feel Frost Walker’s consciousness brushing against the edges of my awareness, responding to our elevated states.
“Ja’war,” I gasp, reaching for him. “I need—”
“I know what you need.” He moves up my body like a predator stalking prey, the patterns on his skin blazing brighter now, his arousal unmistakable as he settles between my thighs with careful control. “But first, you need to understand what the bond means.”
His hands roam over my hypersensitive skin as he positions himself between my thighs, fingers finding my nipples and rolling them gently. The claiming bite’s effects make even that simple touch electric, sending sparks of pleasure straight to my core. He leans down to take one peak into his mouth again, his alien tongue rough against the sensitive flesh, and I arch beneath him with a cry.
“Exquisite,” he murmurs against my breast, his fangs grazing the soft curve. “So responsive. The claiming bite has awakened every nerve ending.”
