Page 31 of Leviathan

LYRIEN

She walked through the tunnel I made into my center, her bare feet sending shivers of awareness through me as she stepped on my filaments. Her fingers reached out to touch the wall, sending pleasure racing towards me at her light touch. Everything she did was sensual, and the fact that she was caressing me with her skin as she neared the place where I was most vulnerable left me desperate, terrified, and deeply aroused.

This was a huge step.

If she were an agent of the Calicium, then this would be the moment that I lost everything. This would be the moment where she showed me in no uncertain terms that she had played me for a fool this entire time. The worst torture of the waiting, of the not knowing, was the fact that I didn't care anymore.

I wanted her so badly that it was worth the risk that she could betray me.

I'd rather risk being turned into a slave than spend my life without her.

She stepped into my shell-locked center, her eyes falling onto the form that made up my core. I looked back at her with my own eyes from where I lay reclined on a bed of my own neurofilaments. My visual units transmitted more intense detail, like the fine hairs on her arms, but my eyes could see her in more vibrant color, how the individual strands of her hair were not exactly the same shade, creating a rainbow of yellow to sandy brown that was utterly decadent to gaze upon.

"You actually look like that," she said, her eyes widening. "I thought the hologram was just something you came up with."

"I modeled it after my core," I said.

Her eyes drifted down my body, to the erect evidence of my desire. My breeding appendage was fully stiff, aroused by her soft caresses and the anticipation of her seeing my core in person for the first time.

She cleared her throat as she continued to stare at it, then licked her lips and swallowed.

"I can see why you think we are compatible," she said. "Though it is rather large."

"Too large?" I asked, concerned for a moment. She had indicated she thought my core form was big before. Even if our species were compatible, it would mean a lot if I couldn't fit myself inside of her to bring her to her pleasure.

"No," she said, clearing her throat again before speaking with a breathy sound. "Not if we go slow."

Her words thrilled me.

"We can go as slow as you want," I said, my voice husky. "Once we get you to a place where you can make the choice."

Her eyes darted up to my face, a flash of irritation crossing her brow before she turned away from me, looking around the chamber I had constructed around my core.

"There is only the one spot," she said.

"I've been careful not to move these neurofilaments once I noticed it," I said. "Now that you're here, we can go through our grid system and clear this area so I can feel confident moving in this area again."

She moved around the small room. When she got to the space behind where my core was lifted up, anchored in place, she paused, inspecting the neurofilaments that anchored into my head and spine.

"Are you unable to move?" she asked. "That spot isn't that far away."

I watched her expression from one of my visual units as I couldn't turn my head to look behind me, and the heat in her gaze was both exciting and disturbing. What was she thinking?

"I am shell locked," I told her. "It is something that can happen to my species if we prioritize the rapid growth of our larger bodies."

I held back the last detail, that mating would set me free.

If I told her that she would feel obligated to mate with me, to break my shell lock. As useful as it would be to be able to move my core around, I couldn't ask that of her. I had spent so much time afraid of letting anyone in that now that I had found her, I didn't want to do anything that could possibly taint our relationship. Plus, there was the selfish side of me that didn't want to speed up the repairs, that wanted to stay hidden with her. The longer she spent with me, the more time I had to convince her to stay.

I felt a light touch on my shoulder as she walked back into my line of sight.

That touch was fire.

It was such a different feeling, her skin against my skin. With my filaments, she overwhelmed my senses with the taste of her. Her touch on my skin was hyper-focused on heat and softness, unimpeded by the layers of other sensations I got from my neurofilaments.

"So you can't move your body, and if you move your filaments, you risk spreading the contaminant," she said. "Seems to me that you are completely at my mercy."

She stroked her fingers down my chest, and I couldn't contain my gasp.