His hands explore me with a surety that leaves me breathless, his touch both tender and possessive. He cups my breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak, and I arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping my lips.
“Please,” I whisper, voice trembling.
He growls softly in response; the sound vibrating against my skin as he takes my nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it in a way that sends a jolt of pleasure straight through me. My hands find his shoulders, gripping him as he moves to the other breast, giving it the same attention, his teeth grazing just enough to make me gasp.
The ache between my thighs grows unbearable, and I shift beneath him, pressing my hips up against his. His loincloth does little to hide his arousal, the hard length of him pressing against me, and I whimper at the contact.
“Rok,” I whisper, more insistently this time, my hands sliding down his back, urging him closer.
He pulls back slightly, his glowing eyes meeting mine, and the look in them steals what little breath I have left.
“Please,” I whisper, and the last thread of his restraint snaps. He claims my lips again, this time with a ferocity that makes my toes curl. His hands move to my hips, tugging away the last of the barriers between us. I shiver as the cool night air brushes against my heated skin, but the chill is quickly forgotten as Rok presses himself against me, his body radiating a warmth that sets me alight.
His hand slides between my thighs, his long fingers exploring me with a gentleness that belies his size. When he finds the sensitive bundle of nerves, I cry out; the sound disappearing into his mouth as my hips buck against his hand. He watches me intently, his eyes glowing brighter as he works me into a frenzy, his fingers teasing and stroking until I’m trembling beneath him.
“Now,” I gasp, my hands clutching at his shoulders.
He growls softly, the sound sending a thrill through me, and positions himself at my entrance. He hesitates for only a moment, his gaze locking with mine, and then he pushes forward, slowly, carefully, until he’s fully seated inside me.
I gasp at the sensation, the stretch of him almost too much, but the pleasure far outweighs the discomfort. Rok’s breathing is ragged, his body trembling as he holds himself still, giving me time to adjust.
“You feel—” His thoughts stutter against mine, reverent. “Like fire and water combined. Impossible. Perfect.”
His wonder floods through our connection, carrying images of the desert’s cruel antagonism—the way life here exists between scorching heat and precious moisture, always at war. Yet with me, inside me, these opposing forces don’t destroy. They ignite.
“My light,” he growls, and the words vibrate through every point where we’re joined, like a claim written in the oldest language. Of flesh. Of need.
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, and when I roll my hips against his, he takes it as permission to move. He starts slow, his thrusts deep, but as the tension builds between us, his control slips.
His pace quickens, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure crashing through me. I cling to him, my nails digging into his back as I meet each movement, our bodies moving in perfect sync.
“Mine,” Rok growls again, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through my entire being.
“Yours,” I whisper, my voice breaking as the pleasure builds to a peak. The word feels too small for what’s between us now—what’s been growing since he first carried me through the desert.
When my release finally comes, it’s like a tidal wave, crashing over me with an intensity that leaves me shaking—not just from pleasure, but from the shocking truth that rises with it:
I love him.
Rok stills suddenly, his golden eyes widening. “Why does your heart race? Are you dying?” His mental voice is frantic, claws flexing against my hips like he’s ready to fight death itself.
A breathless laugh escapes me. I press my forehead to his, our minds entwined as I whisper back, “Worse. I’m in love.” I can’t describe it. It’s only a feeling. So I send that feeling to him, every ounce of it. The depth of it. The light of it.
For a moment, Rok’s hips stutter. His growl vibrates through my bones, part triumph, part reverence. “Love,” he repeats, right before his glow suddenly swells. He seals the word with his lips on mine.
I love him.
This fierce, golden alien who learned to smile for me. Who fought monsters on my behalf without hesitation. Who changed himself to fit me better, yet never asks me to be anything but what I am.
Rok follows moments later, his powerful body shuddering against mine as he finds his own release, his mind wide open to mine, sharing every ounce of his pleasure and…and his love. The emotion pours into me, warm and certain as sunrise, and I clutch him tighter, my cheek pressed to his pounding chest.
We collapse together in a tangle of limbs, my revelation still humming through my veins. Rok cradles me against him, his arms wrapping around me like living armor. His skin glows faintly where it touches mine like our own private constellation, and my heart swells in my chest.
“Thank you,” I whisper, but it’s not just for this moment. It’s for the water shared when I was thirsty. For carrying me when I couldn’t walk. For seeing me—really seeing me—in a way no one ever has.
Rok’s thumb brushes my lower lip. “We are one.” His certainty vibrates through our connection. “Forever, Jus-teen.”
And he’s right. I know it with a bone-deep certainty. Messed up as my arrival was, I was meant to be here. He was meant to find me.
The knowledge settles in my bones as sleep pulls at me.
I am his.
He is mine.
And this desert that tried to kill us both?
It brought me home.
A sense of peace settles over me. Not complete—not with Jacqui still missing—but enough to quiet the worst of my fears.
“We will find your sister-kin,” Rok projects, sensing the direction of my thoughts. “That is my oath to you, Jus-teen.”
A smile crosses my lips.
I believe him.
Epilogue
THARN’S HUNT: BARBARIANS OF THE DUST: BOOK 2
Hallucinations 101: Please take a seat
JACQUI
The desert holds twenty-seven ways to die. I’ve cataloged them all in my mind journal, a morbid habit that’s somehow kept me sane during these endless days wandering this alien wasteland. Dehydration. Heat stroke. Predator attack. Starvation. Falling from heights. Quicksand. The list goes on.
Today, I’m fairly certain I’ve discovered number twenty-eight: hallucination-induced cliff diving.
I huddle in the shallow cave that has been my shelter for the past two nights, squinting at the figure moving across the sand below. Tall. Impossibly strong-looking. Golden-bronze skin that catches the last rays of the setting sun.
Not human.
I press myself deeper into the shadows, my heart hammering against my ribs. After weeks alone in this desert, I’ve finally cracked. I’m seeing things. Have to be.
The figure stops, crouching to examine something on the ground. My tracks, probably. I’d been careful, but not careful enough. Not that it matters if this is just a hallucination.