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He roared over top her, throwing his head back.
She stared at his cock. It flexed. A moment later, a thick streak of creamy white seed shot from it, splattering across her bared belly. Strangely, the sight only made her want more. She squeezed him harder and tugged faster, drawing three more spurts of his essence out of him and onto herself. When his shoulders sagged and he sighed, she slowed and loosened her grip. Stroked him gently, observing his reaction and finding the most sensitive spot on his member, right at the tip. Her strokes turned to caresses. She toyed with him with the tips of her fingers, then finally dared to look back up into his eyes.
He watched her with great intensity. Eyes moving along her face and body. His cock remained stiff and ready. He leaned over her, the underside of his cock gliding between the lips of her sex and making her shake. He tilted his head and pressed his mouth to hers in a tender kiss.
As the kiss ended, his mouth lingered by her lips. He pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. He let out a breath and his energy changed. Now instead of that needy, driving urge, she felt… reluctance.
She would have given anything to know what he was thinking. “What is it? Torian?” she asked.
Hearing his name spoken seemed to startle him. He blinked and pulled away. His arms fell to his sides. He stood up, pulling up the baggy trousers as he stepped out from between her legs. He walked to the far end of the compartment and drew two items off the wall. One a towel, the other a fresh robe for her to cover herself with. He placed the robe by her side and the towel on her stomach.
As she cleaned herself off, she watched him walk to the porthole and gaze out into the blackness. She slipped off the platform, removed her torn clothes, and swung the robe out behind her and over her shoulders. She tucked her arms into the sleeves, tied the belt, and turned to find him standing tall, hand over wrist behind his back. “Torian?” she asked again.
He hung his head. “I am torn,” he said.
His hunger for her had disassembled all her defenses. Now it was she who wanted to protect this hulking creature. To tell him everything would be okay. If they just gave this a chance. The tough as nails Quaia was far away. The Quaia that stood in the room just wanted to hold him in her arms again. She walked across the compartment to stand behind him, feeling an undeniable urge to say something, to do something that would relieve whatever was tormenting him. To tell him she could make everything okay.
“Can I help?” she asked, almost helplessly. She didn’t understand this man, or his wild swings from passion to distance.
He turned and flashed a slight smile. “I’m torn because neither the Imperator nor the commission on its way will approve of any of this. It’s…” His voice trailed off, but his gaze remained on her face.
Her stomach sank. A shame blanketed her. Had she really just allowed herself to be seduced only to be told, now that he’d had her, he wasn’t really sure? Was she really so naive that she’d let that just happen?
“What… what do you mean?”
“The situation is… complicated.”
Her shoulders sagged and her eyes rolled in exasperation, her defiant anger rushing to her cheeks now instead of shame.
“Are you serious?” she said, her tone filled with disbelief. “What the… what the hell was all that about?” she said, her hand shooting backwards. Her anger burned hotter.
“I had no choice in the matter,” he continued.
He might as well have flung her across the room. “No choice? No choice? If anyone has no choice around here, it’s me! What is that even supposed to mean? I can’t—”
She was interrupted as he turned to take both of her shoulders in his hands, his eyes burning intensely into hers. She couldn’t decide if this quelled or fueled her anger, but either way, it seemed as if he had caught her voice in his hand.
“I knew your soul from the moment I saw you. I knew you were to be mine. The Vokl, we have a Voklha, a mating force, within us. I denied it to myself at first. I’m warrior, we don’t… I was always told we don’t possess the same instincts—”
“Okay, look,” she said, finding her voice. “That sounds like a bunch of crap!”
“It’s not… crap,” he said, struggling noticeably with the word. “It’s true. Why would they send me for such an assignment if it were not so?”
“How am I supposed to know?” Quaia said defensively. She was now feeling very, very wounded, and the only thing she was hearing was that he had made a mistake.
Torian, for his part, searched her face with what seemed like exasperation. He shook her gently. “I knew I should abandon this assignment. As soon as it happened, as soon as I felt it. I didn’t believe in it, Quaia. Had I known… I would have requested a different mission so that there would not be this… entanglement. I thought… in my hubris I thought I could do both.”
Fury, a real, tempestuous fury, was mounting in her heart. “Both?” she hissed.
“Perform my duties here and stay impartial. Then whisk you from this place and keep you to myself forever.”
The tempest in her chest turned from anger to passion again. It was a surprisingly short transformation. She felt wildly out of control. Did she dare to hope again…?
He met her gaze. He shook his head. “Sadly, I cannot,” he said, looking away.
Her hands balled to fists as the pendulum of emotions inside her swung back to anger. She resisted the urge to beat them against her thighs and scream at him to stop being so fucking cryptic and just get on with it. Could he really be this big of an asshole? Really? And had she really just fallen for an act?
He locked eyes with her again. “I meant what I said last cycle. I will have you yet. All to myself.”
