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“Shut up,” I manage to breathe out, though the command lacks any real venom. I roll my hips harder, chasing the blinding friction.

“I don’t think I will.” His thumbs press into my hip bones, dictating the pace, forcing my wet pussy to glide heavily over the unyielding muscle of his leg. “You’re so responsive, Commander. All that ice, just waiting to melt for the right friction.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, and white spots explode behind my eyelids. The sensation is overwhelming. I’m grinding against an alien soldier in the middle of my war room, completely clothed, yet I feel more exposed than I ever have in my life.

“You like this?” Orien murmurs, his teeth grazing my earlobe. “You like making me do the work while you fall apart?”

“I am not falling apart.” I gasp, my nails digging deeper into his shirt.

“Liar,” he rumbles. He bucks his thigh upward, hitting the perfect spot.

My breath leaves me in a rush. My spine arches backward.

“Come apart for me, Maggie,” he demands, his hands gripping my hips tight enough to leave bruises. “Let it go.”

The tension builds with terrifying speed, coiling tight in my lower belly. Every upward thrust of his leg sends a shockwave through my nervous system. My analytical mind shuts down entirely. The logistics, the rations, the casualty reports—they all burn away, leaving nothing but the searing heat of his body and the relentless, driving friction between my thighs.

I tip over the edge, my orgasm hitting me like an earthquake. I cry out, my body bowing backward as intense, shuddering waves of pleasure rip through me. I clench around nothing, my core spasming violently against the hard muscle of his leg. A release unlike anything I have ever felt before washes over me, dragging a ragged, embarrassing sob from my throat.

And he hasn’t even touched my naked skin.

I slump forward, utterly devoid of strength. My forehead drops against the crook of his neck. My chest heaves, dragging in oxygen that suddenly feels too thin. Orien’s hand moves up my back, his palm resting between my shoulder blades in a surprisingly gentle, grounding gesture.

For ten glorious seconds, I allow myself to just exist in the warmth of him.

Then, his fingers brush the fabric near my left arm, and reality slams into me with the force of a falling building.

The Ghorvek claw. The fresh, parallel scratches carved directly over the old, jagged bite mark on my forearm.

If he ever sees… If he touches the scar and notices it’s a bite mark. If he insists on running his Avaren medical scanner to check my blood.

He will know. He will see I’m immune to the Ghorvek pathogen. The alien spymaster who collects secrets will realize he is holding a valuable biological specimen. Everything I built will be stripped away. I will become a cure in a cage.

The panic returns, a bucket of freezing water dumped directly into my veins.

I shove my hands against his chest and scramble off his thigh.

My heels hit the concrete floor, and I stumble backward, nearly tripping over the leg of the metal war table. I yank the edges of my tailored jacket together, my fingers trembling violently as I ensure my white cuffs are pulled all the way down to my wrists. The bunker air hits my flushed face, shockingly cold.

Orien doesn’t reach for me. He remains seated in the folding chair, his long legs spread wide, completely relaxed.

Instead of being annoyed that I bolted, he leans back, resting his arms over the back of the chair. The glowing orange filaments along his neck pulse with a satisfied, steady rhythm. That deadly grin stretches across his face, revealing the sharp points of his upper canines.

So proud of himself. Insufferably smug.

I force the iron back into my spine and raise my chin.

“You shouldn’t let it get to your head, Orien,” I state, my voice icy again, despite the slight tremor I can’t quite hide. “I get the exact same result from humping my pillow.”

Orien’s grin widens, and his eyes flash with wicked amusement.

“Then I demand to be present the next time you go to bed, Maggie,” he purrs, his voice practically vibrating with raw sin. “So I can take myself in hand while I watch you do it.”

A furious blush explodes across my cheeks, completely destroying my icy façade.

“I am going to sleep,” I snap, turning on my heel.

I march toward the heavy blast doors, my heels clicking a rapid tattoo against the concrete.