"I know." Her thumb traced along my jaw, and I felt myself leaning into her touch. "I know all the reasons we shouldn't. I've spent months listing them, cataloging them, using them to maintain distance. But of all the things inthe universe I can control—my emotions, my decisions, my reactions—my feelings for you are the one thing I cannot."
The admission cost her. I could see it in her eyes, in the way her voice trembled slightly on the last word. This woman who commanded fleets and negotiated treaties, who maintained perfect composure through everything, was vulnerable with me.
And I was lost.
I reached up, covering her hand with mine. "I want you," I said, the words coming out rough and honest. "Not just physically, though God knows I do. But everything. Your strength. Your mind. The way you carry the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders and never let it break you. The woman beneath the Prime. I want all of it."
Her breath caught. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the air between us charged with everything we'd been holding back.
Then she kissed me.
It wasn't gentle. Wasn't tentative. It was fierce and hungry, months of restraint shattering in an instant. Her mouth was hot against mine, demanding, and I met her with equal intensity.
She pulled back slightly, uncertainty flickering across her features. "Am I—is this—" She hesitated, and I realized what she was asking. "Vaktaire don't... we don't do this. Kiss. I've only seen it with Charick and his mate. With Duke Ako and Helene. Am I doing it right?"
The vulnerability in her voice—this powerful woman asking if she was kissing me correctly—made my chest ache. I cupped her face in my hands, meeting those golden eyes.
"You're perfect," I said, my voice rough. "You're incredible at it."
Relief and something hotter flashed across her face. She smiled—a real smile, not the diplomatic mask she wore for thegalaxy—and then she was kissing me again, harder this time, no longer questioning herself. Her confidence returned in a rush, and I felt it in the way she took control, the way her tongue swept against mine with deliberate intent.
My hands found her waist, pulling her closer, and she came willingly, straddling my lap despite my injuries. The moment she settled against me, I felt the soft velvet of her pelt beneath my palms—warm and impossibly smooth where it covered her sides. I groaned, part pain from my ribs, part pure pleasure at the sensation of her.
"Your ribs—" she started, concern flickering across her face.
"I don't care." I pulled her back down, kissing her again, deeper this time. "I don't care about anything except this. Except you."
Her hands were in my hair, on my shoulders, tracing the lines of muscle across my chest. I felt the strength in her touch, the warrior's body that could kill with precision but was choosing gentleness now. Choosing me.
I ran my hands up her sides, feeling the hard muscle beneath the bodysuit, but it was the velvet softness of her pelt that made me shudder. She wasn't soft like human women—she was all lean strength, powerful and deadly. But her pelt felt like the softest velvet and I wanted to feel more of that incredible texture against my skin.
"Let me," I murmured against her neck, finding the seam of her suit. She helped me, shrugging out of the top half with a shrug, and then she was bare before me.
I couldn't breathe.
She was magnificent. More muscular than any human woman I'd ever seen, her body a testament to a lifetime of training. Her shoulders were broad, her arms defined with muscle that flexed as she moved. But it was her breaststhat captured my attention—smaller than a human woman's, perfectly proportioned to her frame, covered in that same velvet pelt that darkened to a deeper shade across her chest and nipples.
"You're beautiful," I said, meaning it with every fiber of my being.
"I'm a warrior," she replied, but there was uncertainty in her voice.
"You're both." I reached up slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to. She didn't. My fingers traced the soft pelt covering her collarbone, following the line down between her breasts. The texture was like touching velvet, like touching something precious and rare. She shivered beneath my touch, and I felt her breath catch.
I leaned down, pressing my lips to the curve of her breast, feeling the velvet softness against my mouth. She made a sound—a gasp of surprise and pleasure—and her hands tightened in my hair. I traced the edge of her breast with my tongue, feeling the pelt give way to softer skin at her nipple. When I took it into my mouth, she cried out, her back arching.
"Cullen," she breathed, my name a prayer on her lips.
I spent time there, learning what made her moan, what made her grip my shoulders, what made her press herself against me. The scent of her skin—salt and something uniquely Serna—filled my senses. I moved to her other breast, giving it the same attention, feeling her pulse racing beneath my lips.
"I want to see all of you," I murmured against her skin. "I want to know every part of you."
She nodded, breathless, and I helped her out of the rest of her suit. When she was completely bare before me, I had to pause, just taking her in. The velvet pelt covered most of her body, darker along her spine, lighter on her sides and belly. Butbetween her thighs, the pelt gave way to softer skin, and I could see the glistening evidence of her arousal.
"Can I?" I asked, my hand hovering over her inner thigh.
"Yes," she whispered.
I traced my fingers along her thigh, feeling the velvet texture of her pelt give way to the softer skin of her inner leg. When I reached the apex of her thighs, I found her wet and ready, her anatomy similar enough to human women to be familiar but with subtle differences—her labia slightly darker, her entrance longer and tighter. The sight of her, open and vulnerable and wanting me, made my cock throb with need.
