Page 57 of Alien Healer’s Mate

He broke the kiss long enough to look down at her. His expression had gone raw, the bruising on his jaw and the blood at his temple making him look even more like the dangerous alien warrior he was. But his hands stayed gentle as he pushed the gown down her arms and over her breasts.

His thumbs brushed the undersides of them, barely there, and her hips jerked beneath him.

“Oh,” she breathed.

His lips quirked, though his eyes stayed dark. “Sensitive, kelarris?”

“Don’t be smug,” she managed. A deep chuckle rumbled out of him, vibrating against her skin. Then he bent his head and closed his lips around one aching nipple through the gown.

She gasped, her back arching. Heat poured low and heavy between her thighs, soaking the flimsy fabric bunched around her hips. His tongue circled the tight peak before he sucked gently, and her fingers clenched harder in his hair.

“Kellat,” she gasped, tugging him back up for another kiss. “Please.”

“Kelarris,” he rasped against her.

She pulled back, breathing hard. “What does that mean?”

His lips quirked as he looked at her. “You don’t know?”

“If I knew, you enormous genius, I wouldn’t be asking.”

His thumb traced her swollen lower lip, his touch gentle and his expression raw. “It means beloved.”

Oh.

Her brows creased as she thought back. He’d been calling her that all this time, and she’d thought it was some kind of alien medical term, or possibly creative swearing.

“You could have mentioned,” she managed, unable to stop her voice cracking.

“I thought you understood.” He nuzzled at her nose with his. “You seem to know everything else.”

She huffed at him, her eyes half closing at the tender gesture.

“I understand ‘hold still’ and ‘that’s fascinating’ and ‘take a deep breath.’ Not—” She stopped, blinking quickly.

She wouldn’t cry. Not here, not now. She didn’t need to. They’d won… the hero had gotten the girl, and all that. And also, with the hard length of his cock pressing against her hip through his leathers, because crying would really kill the mood.

“Delilah. Look at me.” He cupped her face, tilting her chin up. “It means beloved and mate, and I love you all rolled into one.”

She bit her lip, then gave up and dragged him back down, kissing him with desperation and every ounce of terrified joy she’d been hoarding.

“I love you too,” she gasped against his jaw. “Now get naked before I lose my damn mind.”

“Your wish is my command,” he growled.

Rolling away, he shucked his ruined leathers with a grace of movement she couldn’t help admiring. This beautiful, graceful, dangerous man was hers. All hers. His jacket hit the floor, baring that broad, scarred chest. Then his hands dropped to his belt and her mouth went dry.

“Enjoying the show, kelarris?” he murmured, amusement and seduction warring for dominance in his deep voice.

“Oh yes,” she replied, motioning toward the rest with an indolent wave. Or as close to it as she could manage. “Please do continue.”

He held her gaze as the leathers loosened. Shoving them down over his lean hips, he kicked free of them and his boots. Then he stood in front of her naked. Absolutely and gloriously naked.

She let her gaze trail down him. Over the silver hair like a mantle over his broad shoulders, over every inch of his scarred, heavily muscled torso and further…

Heat rolled through her, pooling between her thighs.

His cock stood thick and proud against his belly, flushed dark, the tip already weeping. She lifted her gaze to meet his and let her knees drop open in invitation.