Page 17 of Crash Landed: The Daranthiki

He was certain that she would stretch tightly around his phallus, her body sucking on his length desperately with every twitch and flex of her internal muscles. It would welcome his rut, and he would be able to breed upon her eagerly, her soft little body molding to his as he drove his sex into her tight sheath. His claws lowered to her sides and slid along her suit, catching on the material in preparation to rip it. He would shred it off her and drive himself into her. He would claim her and fuck her and bind her to him so tightly that she would never escape him. The primal Daranthiki instinct took hold of him so strongly that he shook with it as he prepared to cross the breach from which he would never be able to return.

Zil broke free from Daisy with a snarled gasp and whirled away from her. Her startled cry pierced the air, and he squeezed his eyes closed to combat the mating demands shrieking within him. It was worse than he suspected. He did not just need to pin a female and fuck her into his own personal oblivion. He did not just need any female. He had waited too long to seek a mate before joining the legion, and now it seemed that his long-ignored instincts were getting the last laugh. Although Daranthiki long considered themselves one of the more advanced species in the sectors, he now understood why males and females of the general populace were encouraged to mate young. For all their advances, they were prey to the most primal part of themselves.

And his instincts were set on claiming Daisy—a female who not only did not truly want him but was paying for his service. It was such a terrible joke that fate played on him that he chuckled wryly as he stepped away from her, his head spinning. He would not disgrace himself in such a way.

Behind him, he was aware of Daisy stumbling as she attempted to regain her physical and mental balance following his rejection. He did not look at her, but he could imagine the expression on her face and the weight of her confusion as he felt her gaze piercing his back.

“Zil, what—”

“It is nothing,” he grumbled. “An unfortunate mistake that is better to be forgotten.”

“Oh,” she whispered, and that one word stabbed him far more deeply than a blade made of the finest quality andragomyne.

This was better. Let it end before anything tried to take root and bloom between them. Anything more was doomed. Not only was their species in an uneasy truce, but he was still a cybernetic legionnaire, even if he was an illegally decommissioned one. There would be no happiness for anyone like him. That was not what they were created for.

It was difficult, however, to remember that fact when he watched her settle heavily onto a boulder when the sun began to decline in the sky, or when he had to force his body to compliance to ignore the sexual need perfuming her skin when he fed her again. But it was when they were lying a short distance apart on the hard ground that his quieted thoughts made themselves known again, tormenting him.

“You know, if it wasn’t such a miserable sandbox in hell, this place wouldn’t be quite bad,” Daisy murmured tiredly. “I can’t recall the last time I’ve seen such a perfect sky.”

His gaze lifted upward to the stars. He had spent most of his life traveling among them, never believing that he would miss the quiet night skies of his homeworld, and yet, when he looked up at the dark purple heavens brightened with millions of radiant stars spilling and swirling in their unique patterns in space, creating striations of lighter hues above them, it made him long for something more than his lonely existence. It was odd how he felt so complete at that moment. With nothing but a flat desert and various rocky formations jutting from the landscape, it left a vast canvas for them to enjoy. But it was Daisy who made it the most meaningful.

“Yes,” he rasped. “I have forgotten.”

Daisy turned toward him in the dark, her gaze soft. “Was it like this on your homeworld?”

He closed his eyes, blocking out the above beauty that conjured far too easily the painful memories of the past. “It does not matter.”

She fell silent for a long moment, her eyes darkening at night descended, and yet with his vision he could see her clearly all the same—studying him. Finally, she rolled onto her back and sighed.

“I grew up in a metropolis. Such views were cultivated experiences at specific resorts to allow us to pretend for a moment that we were steeped in the natural world.” She gave a small laugh that sent a small vibration of pleasure through him. “Somehow, we were able to enjoy the natural world with every convenience on hand. No sweltering sun, no biting insects—which I want to express my appreciation that there doesn’t appear to be any equivalent to mosquitoes on this damned planet as far as we have seen yet—and an endless supply of cooling drinks to enjoy. And yet... this place has something great that I never got to enjoy there.”

“What is that?” he grumbled. “The hydro-fungi that you refuse to consume for water?”

Daisy chuckled. “No, idiot. It’s you. I know you are hauling me around for the credits, but you have been really great. I just wanted you to know that. I have never had real companionship.” She yawned widely and rolled back onto her back. “Maybe I should have considered a paid companion before,” she mumbled sleepily. “But even then, they wouldn’t have been you.”

His heart ached oddly with an emotion he didn’t recognize. He understood. He had never understood how lonely his world was until he stumbled across this stubborn little human.

“McGillin...”

She mumbled sleepily and sighed. He listened for a moment to her heavy, even breathing. It seemed that she was asleep. That was fast. He could not recall if he had ever noticed how quickly she fell asleep before.

“Sleep well,” he rasped.

Chapter 14

“You want me to do what?” Daisy asked in dismay as she studied the alien standing in front of her with his blaster extended in her direction.

She scratched at a raw spot where the sunburn was tight and angry on her cheek. Zil pushed away her hand impatiently with a frown of disapproval.

“Do not. You will open a wound,” he murmured. “Your skin is still suffering damage. However, your hearing is not. You know very well what I said. You will learn how to shoot,” he repeated, a touch of annoyance in his voice.

Daisy’s eyes dropped to the blaster with reluctance. “I don’t think you quite grasp this, but... I wasn’t named Daisy because I am some kind of tough warrior woman. I’m a daisy... a fragile freaking flower.”

He studied her for a long moment. “Are not some types of daisies considered weeds on your world?” He leaned forward and the corner of his hard mouth curled in a smirk. “They are quite resilient. And so are you,” he added as he straightened once more. “Or have you already forgotten how we met?”

“I think it was pretty obvious that I didn’t have a clue how to use it,” she pointed out before giving him a sweet, cheerful smile in the hope of softening him up to her way of thinking. “But I don’t expect you to remedy that. I do not think blaster lessons are part of the package I’m paying for. No need to overexert yourself with tiresome lessons.”

He stared back at her. Her smile faltered. That didn’t do it. For a credit-hungry mercenary, his expression didn’t change even fractionally.