He blows on it again, studying my reactions, my face. I’m sweating slightly, my hands clenching the cords where they wrap around my wrists and tie me to the table.
His mouth and hands start to work me all over again, until I’m shaking. Time ceases to exist. There’s nothing but my body and his, nothing but this need to come, roaring, consuming.
I don’t know how long it’s been, how many times he’s brought me to the edge only to back off, but my heart is racing and I’m so strung out on needing to orgasm I’m not sure how much longer I can deny him the words he wants so badly.
He pauses, sitting back and staring at me.
I manage to open my eyes, lifting my chin and meeting his gaze.
“I want you to be mine,” Nydo says suddenly, and I realize this isn’t the game for him I thought it was. “I want you to truly want to be mine.”
“Nydo,” I manage, trying to focus, trying to think past the pleasure and need that threatens to tow me under.
His mouth falls upon me again, two fingers inside me working relentlessly. There’s no game anymore, just Nydo, working me inside and out, bringing me to orgasm.
I writhe on the table as pleasure bursts through me, nearly weeping from the intensity of it.
“I want you so badly,” he tells me, and it sounds like a desperate secret. “I need you.”
He doesn’t ask me again if I belong to him. Instead, he lowers his body onto mine, pressing a fevered kiss against my lips. His skin is scorching where it meets mine, and he drags his cock through my slick pussy, causing me to cry out again.
“Nydo,” I say, unable to say anything but his name. I’m too far gone.
“I want you to need me too,” he says, and it’s not the rough fucking I expected when he sinks into me slowly, stretching me all over again. His hand snakes beneath my head, protecting it, and he flicks his hips back and forth.
“Lift your hips for me, my little flame,” he grunts, and I’m only too happy to comply.
“Want to touch you,” I grit out.
A rush of heat sizzles against my fingers, and the cords tying me to the table snap. I wrap my arms around Nydo’s head, my mouth clashing against his. My legs wrap around him, and I dig my heels into his back as he drives into me harder, relentless.
“Leigh, my Leigh,” he says, and it’s full of need that threatens to break my heart. “My little flame.” He pulls out, painting cum all over my stomach again.
I kiss him again, unable to tell him what he wants so badly to hear.
Afraid that it might already be true.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
LEIGH
Roth is miniscule out the window, all green and blue and too much like Earth for me to be anything but shocked.
It’s been three days, three nights, in flight.
He hasn’t left my side since he tied me to the table. I don’t know if it was the intimacy of that moment, those hours, the fact that he brought me to orgasm a startling amount of times, or if the hormones have simply worn off, but the need to have sex has slowly dwindled to a normal amount. It no longer encompasses every other thought.
Nydo hasn’t complained though, hasn’t asked me who I belong to again.
No, he watches me with a curious expression.
It’s been like a never-ending slumber party with him, one filled with touching and kissing. My face heats just to think about it.
I’ve been trying so hard to ignore my feelings about him, but as Roth grows larger and larger, as we approach our ultimate destination… I wonder if I’m being an idiot.
Nydo is… complicated, yes.
Nydo isn’t what I expected at all.
But we’re by ourselves on the ship, no one else around for him to impress or manipulate, and I wonder if this is just some false moment, and the guard he’s seemingly let down will be firmly back in place once there are other Roth around. If he’ll turn back into the asshole he was.
He’s put me first the entire time we’ve been in flight. Made me food, washed me, comforted me. Talked through strategy with me, made me his confidant. Held me close in the small, dark hours of the night, made me laugh with a dry sense of humor I never would have guessed he possessed.
It feels like a dream.
And with Roth on the horizon, I know it’s time to wake up.
“Are you ready?” he asks me, for the one hundredth time. I think he knows, too, that this has been a strange diversion, that what we’ve had here on the ship isn’t real.
I smile at him, and it’s sad. I feel sad. “Let’s go get your throne,” I tell him. “And then I’ll go back to Earth.”
He contemplates me, his jaw twitching. “Right,” he manages.
The ship whines a warning, the proximity alarms wailing. I reach up, turning off the sound. “Looks like they found us,” I say.
We’ve been ready for this. We knew they would.
I adjust the black crown on my head, arranging my hair over one shoulder, sitting up straight and putting on the resting bitch face that Nydo laughed at yesterday and told me was perfect.
It doesn’t seem funny anymore.
Two Roth destroyers appear, and I glance over at Nydo.
For support, I realize. He reaches a hand over, and then my knuckles are against his lips.
“I will keep you safe, my flame.” He kisses my hand, and my heart squeezes with sudden affection. His nickname for me is the cutest thing ever, and way better than any other nickname I’ve had. I love it.
He lets my hand go, and I tug my gown into place, making sure everything’s where it’s supposed to be.
One of the destroyers hails us, and Nydo shoots me one last, unidentifiable look before accepting their ship’s comm.
“Identification,” the Roth captain immediately barks, filling the window with his image.
“Nydo, the King of Roth, and his queen, Leigh of Earth,” he says crisply. “We’re here to bring Roth to heel, whether peacefully or not is your choice.”
The captain stares. He laughs, and the ship beeps a warning of incoming missiles. I flip the switch, the bracelets wrapped around my bicep jingling as they move against each other.
Nydo ignites, his control over his fire and energy manipulation more precise than ever. I asked him about it yesterday, how he does it, and he just smiled at me, full of mystery. He’s a thing of beauty, the flames cascading all around him, his eyes bright orange, his hair rising on an unseen wind. A flail made of pure flame appears in his hand.
I smile, and it’s bitchy and mean.
We spent yesterday afternoon with him making up weapons out of his fire, which was cool as hell. He cycled through swords and all kinds of weird things before we decided on this one. It looks badass, and based on what he told me, it’s going to pack a real fucking punch when it comes to a fight.
Maybe I am as bloodthirsty as he says, because I love it.
It might be petty of me, but I’m enjoying the shocked look on the Roth’s face on our comm a little too much.
“You access the power of the gods?” he breathes, his face ashen. “No one has been able to tap into our primal power in centuries.”
Nydo simply glowers —and glows—and I try to pretend like this isn’t news to me. Like, yeah, of course he accesses godly powers, why wouldn’t he?