Captive - Cheryl Brooks Page 0,68

in warmth. Her skin beneath his touch was silken, despite the years of hard living it must have endured. She was perfect in every way—shape, substance, and spirit. So perfect a match must have been decreed by fate. No other reasoning could explain a blending of ingredients uniquely designed to meld with his own. Did she feel the same?

Perhaps she did. Her fingers, gentle now, though no less urgent, caressed his body with a reverence and surety that came with knowledge and intent. She seemed to know exactly how to touch him, where to touch him, and why.

His own touch was no less certain or worshipful. Hands ached to feel, lips strove to kiss, tongues longed to taste. Her scent filled his head and lungs before spreading to every corner of his body, immersing him in a sea of unfathomable bliss. Soft mutterings of delight escaped her as he let his lips roam from her sensuous mouth, along the side of her graceful neck before dipping down to her full breasts and the taut nipples that commanded his attention. She shuddered beneath him as he moved over her abdomen to the source of her scent. She tasted like nothing he’d ever encountered, her heady fragrance luring him in to delve within her soft, wet folds to the tiny nub. He’d never dreamed he would enjoy pleasuring her as much as this—not only her scent but her reactions. Her soft cries and moans drove him onward until she tensed beneath him, her clitoris surging against his tongue.

Orgasms were undoubtedly helpful in fulfilling her wants, but that wasn’t all she needed. She needed snard. The intense craving had a purpose, providing her with the means to ensure that her pregnancy progressed as smoothly and comfortably as bearing triplets could possibly be. He crawled up over her, even as the throes of her climax subsided.

Gazing down at her face, he knew he would never see anything more beautiful. Her softly parted lips, the sheen of moisture on her flushed skin, the warm glow from her heavy-lidded eyes. Surely this was the face of love. He dropped yet another kiss on the curve of her lips, then joined with her as his cock slid unerringly into her tight heat. If this had been their first time, it would have been no different, eliciting no less awe, no fewer waves of passion, tenderness, and love.

“I love you, you know,” he whispered. “Makes no sense whatsoever, but it’s true.”

The enticing curve of her smile revealed the tips of her fangs. “None of this makes any sense. But why now? Why here? Why you?”

He thrust deep inside her, and then, pausing, shrugged. “No idea. I guess it was just meant to be. We can’t fight this, and we probably shouldn’t have even bothered to try.”

“Carried along on the arms of fate?” Her wry tone and the lift of her brow were as endearing as her smile.

“Something like that.”

He didn’t ask if she loved him. Such declarations had to come from the heart; they couldn’t be forced or coerced or cajoled. He only knew that here, together with Klara, was where he belonged, his cock inside her, filling her with passion and love. For all the desperate urgency of a few moments before, this wasn’t something to finish quickly. It was to be savored and enjoyed. The smooth glide of his cock as he entered her wet sheath, the tug on the coronal ridges as he withdrew. The grip of her powerful inner muscles as she climaxed around him, over and over again. All these things and more carried him higher, reaching, grasping until the final ecstasy peaked and jets of snard left his body to fill hers, further strengthening the bonds between them. Nothing but death or force could part them now.

In that moment, he felt joy, but also sadness. Sadness because that same feeling was alien to so many other species. Oh, some might claim to mate for life, but he knew of no others that actually did it, at least not consistently. Then again, no others could duplicate the magical union of Zetithian mates. Gazing once more into her captivating eyes, he watched as her joy unfolded like a flower bursting into bloom.

And to think, some people only do this in the dark.

How little they see. How much they miss. How quickly it fades.

And they don’t even realize it.

After all of the horrors I’ve seen in my lifetime, now this.

Whatever it was. Love, perhaps. Perhaps