Synnr's Hope - Kate Rudolph Page 0,60

had her crying out in pleasure, but with her scent all around him and her heat hot enough to scorch he knew he was close.

This was what Matching and bonding was about. He’d been a fool to resist. What did he have to fear from the depth of his connection with Lena? He could feel her spark deep within him and sent a jolt of power her way.

She moaned and jumped and sent her own power back.

It almost tipped him over. But he wasn’t done yet.

He reached around and ran his fingers over the apex of her thighs until she started to shake, her hips jerking quickly, demanding release. They’d wasted weeks, he’d wasted weeks, where they weren’t fucking, weren’t giving each other these exhilarating sensations. He was going to fuck her a million times to make up for it. And then a million more because he could. He’d never tire of her.

His fangs scraped against the top of her shoulder, enough to barely break the skin. It was all she needed. Lena cried out and her body rippled around him in orgasm. And with a final thrust, he emptied himself inside of her, completely spent.

They breathed heavily, her leaning against the wall, him leaning on her, and both sank down to the floor after a long moment. He couldn’t let go of her, even if his cock did slide from her body. She looked sated and self-satisfied. And his. Completely his.

She gave him a lust-drunk smile. “I’m just going to rest for a second. Don’t think I can walk.”

“I can carry you,” he offered. Already the chill of the basement was starting to get to him, and he didn’t want his Match to be cold. Their clothes were too far for him to reach, and he wasn’t quite ready to move either.

And she knew it. “You don’t look so steady yourself,” she teased.

He considered it. She was slumped over him and content. Did he really want to interrupt that? No. Not one bit. “Perhaps you have a point.”

She nuzzled against his neck. “Computer lady isn’t going to give us a third mission today. Right?”

He smiled at her name for the AI in charge of the facility and her penchant for giving it a personality. It was a program, it had no emotions, and it didn’t care what they were doing. Its job was to get them trained, nothing more. “Would you place that bet?”

She groaned. “Fuck. Okay. One more minute.”

It took more than one minute, especially when Lena started tracing his tattoo with her tongue. His cock started to plump up again and he grew hopeful for another round.

“We have the bed upstairs,” he reminded her.

“Yes.” And that was enough to motivate her to stand. “Race you.” She took off without giving him a chance to agree. A laugh burst out of him, and in that moment Solan was sure that things between them would turn out right.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

THE VILLAGE WAS QUAINT, cute, but not touristy at all. It wasn’t filled with little gift shops and overpriced stores trying to cater to vacationers. As far as Lena knew, there was nothing vacation worthy anywhere close to this town. It made her stand out like a sore thumb. She didn’t see any other humans, and some of the children playing in a park looked at her like she was wearing a neon sign saying she was different. But they were curious, not hateful, and after a little while one of the braver ones came up to her and held out a ball a little smaller than a softball.

“Throw it there,” he said, pointing to a girl with braided hair standing in a small chalk circle in the middle of a group of friends.

Lena shot Solan a glance and he just shrugged. Playing with children, sure, why not? She threw the ball at the kid and winced a bit when the child had to jump high to catch it. Whoops. Maybe her aim was a little off. The girl grabbed the ball in both hands and landed right on the chalk, teetering for a moment before gaining her balance and staying within the circle.

“That was close,” said Solan. “If she steps out of the circle she’ll have to trade places with one of her friends.”

“You know this game?” It reminded her a bit of catch. But the girl didn’t throw the ball back to Lena; instead she tossed it to another friend who threw the ball right back to her, low