The Alien’s Claim by Zoey Draven

Chapter Twenty-Two

Something had definitely changed between them, Erin knew. It was apparent, that night, the following morning, the rest of the day.

For one, she’d woken in Jaxor’s arms. No longer did he sleep by the mouth of the cave, but rather pressed up against her, tucking her between the wall and his warm body.

It had made her a little shy at first, but considering what had happened the night before, she realized that was the last thing she should be shy about. The hot springs felt like a dream. She’d felt open and honest, maybe for the first time in a long time. And she’d revealed things to Jaxor that not even her best friends back on Earth knew.

She’d laid still in his arms, feeling his even breaths rustle her hair, memorizing the scent and warmth of him. Erin felt like they were on borrowed time. She believed that there was no future for them there, but she couldn’t help but lie still and pretend that there was. Pretend that they loved each other, pretend that she had no responsibilities back on Earth, pretend that there were no Mevirax, pretend that they could be happy right there, forever.

It was a wonderful little daydream, if only for a moment.

Erin had slipped from his arms before he woke and went down to the base level.

It was there that he found her when he rose, huddled into furs, next to a pitiful fire she’d tried to make. He crouched by it, watching the flames, still bare-chested from the night before while she shivered in the cold morning air.

“I tried,” she said, remembering too vividly the look in his eyes as he licked between her thighs. The memory made her cheeks burn, made her feel a little less chilly.

His nostrils flared, perhaps scenting her arousal, though his eyes were still on the fire.

“Cold?” he asked, his voice still husky and rough from sleep. His gaze rose to her. His hair was wild, curling up around his horns, and she ached just looking at him.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Let me warm you, then,” he said, sliding over to her, loosening the furs from her shoulders and spreading them across the smooth stone floor of the crater behind her.

“Jaxor? What are you—”

But then a shocked gasp escaped her when realization set in. He laid her back, inched up the tunic she’d stolen from him, until her sex was bared.

Then his mouth was on her and all she felt was heat exploding across her sensitive flesh.

“Ohh,” she moaned, blinking in disbelief up at the dark fog bank overhead, which blotted out any sun, and cast his skin in silver.

Her last coherent thought, even as he lapped at her clit and licked her arousal away, was that she could get used to mornings like that.

* * *

Much,much later, Jaxor fed her something called obiraxi. Her body was still humming from the two orgasms he’d pulled from her, but she was decidedly less cold. When he looked at her, her mind felt a little muddled, but she tried to focus as he demonstrated how to cut the dark grey skin of what she assumed was a type of fruit, based on how he’d described it to her.

Erin was distracted because Jaxor hadn’t orgasmed with her. When she’d reached for his cock, straining from the waistband of the loose pants he was wearing that morning, wanting to return the favor, he’d taken her hand and pressed his lips to it instead. Then he asked her if she was hungry.

“You did not enjoy the kekevir meat,” he said softly, sitting close enough that their thighs were pressed together and all Erin had to do was look over and see the head of his cock pushing up.

She bit her lip, raking a hand through her clean hair.

“Was it that obvious?” she asked, a little embarrassed he’d noticed. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful for the food.

He’d fed her kekevir the night he’d ‘culled’ them. It seemed like so long ago, but it had only been a handful of days since then. The meat had a gamey flavor. It was hard to chew, though Jaxor had seemingly had no issue with his sharper teeth.

“Do humans not eat a lot of meat?” he asked, handing her a section of the grey fruit that didn’t look particularly appetizing. The flesh looked soft and mushy and there were little white seeds dotted throughout.

“I eat meat,” she told him. “But our meat tastes a little different. I like the jerky you gave me before.”

He licked his fingers when she plucked the fruit from them, cleaning the juices away, and her breath hitched at the sight, remembering him doing much the same last night, though it had been her fingers he’d licked and her juices.

It seemed she had a one-track mind lately.

Forcing herself to look away, she popped the piece of fruit onto her tongue. Delicious flavor burst in her mouth. Despite the strange texture, it was heavenly. It had the sweetness of a pineapple, the tang of an orange, and something indescribable, something that was completely alien to her, and something she knew she would never find on Earth.

“Good?” he asked, his lips quirking when he saw her expression. Her eyes were wide with pleasure when she met his gaze. There was a soft look on his face, one of affection, she realized.

“Very good,” she told him, smiling once she swallowed. “Can I have more?”

“Tev,” he murmured. “I have three here. I will get more for you later today. They grow nearer to the Lopitax Sea.”

A sea was near there?

“Can I come?” she asked, wanting to see it. She lived in the San Francisco Bay Area, but hardly had time to go to the beach. Even though the beaches there tended to be dreary and cold, she still loved the smell of the saltwater and loved watching the waves and hearing the hiss of them as they slid over the sandy shore.

He darted a curious gaze over to her. “You wish to?”

“Yes,” she said, wondering if they would use the hovercraft to fly there and feeling strangely guilty for the thought. So much so that she had to look down at her sticky fingers resting in her lap.

He inclined his head. “Then tev, I will take you.”

He handed her another section of the cut fruit and after she devoured the whole thing, he watched patiently as she cut the next one for herself, piercing the hard, shell-like skin, revealing the contents beneath.

After they both finished the last of the obiraxi, they started for the hovercraft. Erin found herself still studying the way his fingers traced over the silver pad, starting up the quiet hum of whatever powered it, though she had already memorized the gesture. Though she was standing near him at the console, keeping the furs he’d given her around her shoulders, she still watched and studied. Though they had been intimate, though they had shared things with one another last night in the quiet of the hot springs, Erin still catalogued every movement he made as he piloted the hovercraft.

“What is wrong?” he asked over the gentle whistling of the wind. They weren’t flying fast through the fog bank over his base. It was a slow, gentle pace.

She stepped closer to him, further away from the side of the hovercraft. She hoped he hadn’t noticed her interest in the controls. Instead, she said, “I’m afraid of heights, remember?”

“Ah,” he murmured, tucking her close to his side, his arm bracketing around her, and Erin’s eyes slid away from the controls, a feeling of warmth taking the place of guilt. “I had been wondering.”

“About what?”

“The first night I brought you here,” he mentioned. “You were angry with me when I descended into the tunnel. Now I know that it frightened you. I descended too quickly and you thought we were falling.”

Erin tilted her head back to look at him. Their position was similar to the one they’d had in the sandcraft after he’d taken them from the Golden City. After her and Crystal’s first escape attempt, he’d forced her to stay in front of him so she wouldn’t make trouble, so she couldn’t escape. It just now occurred to her that he’d let Crystal stay at the back of the sandcraft. He’d only wanted her close.

“Yes,” she said, a little embarrassed thinking about her overreaction that night. Truthfully, her overreaction stemmed from an outpouring of frustration, of the events leading up to that moment, but she kept those quiet. “I wasn’t prepared.”

“I am sorry, rixella,” he said, his tone sounding a bit unsure, awkward even. As if he wasn’t used to apologizing. And Erin realized that he wasn’t. He’d lived alone all these years. “You should know I am sorry.”

His tone implied he was sorry about a hell of a lot more.

Erin believed that. She swallowed, looking forward. The fog bank was beginning to clear, though it was difficult to make out the landscape beyond that. “I know, Jaxor.”

She thought of him being alone out here, thinking how restless and sad that made her, especially now that she knew he had a blood brother in the Golden City, one he wanted to make amends with.

Before, when she believed him cold and detached and mean, she could see him living this life of isolation. But now, she wasn’t so sure. He was a healthy male in his prime. Didn’t he want companionship? A family of his own? Children?

Because Erin wanted those things. She’d always known that she wanted a family. She wanted a career, true, she wanted to be self-reliant and independent, given her past. But she’d also aspired to be a wife, a mother. But did Jaxor want those things too? Even then, if there were children, what kind of life could this be, living so alone in the wild lands of Luxiria?

Erin was stunned by the direction of her own thoughts. Children? With Jaxor?

Shaking her head, she ignored it, knowing it was dangerous territory. Territory that was impossible to reach, frankly.

The landscape was just now coming into view and the engine flared to life. Wind rushed through her hair as Jaxor picked up speed now that they were clear of the fog bank. Her head swiveled, but all she saw was empty land, stretches of mountains, and beyond them, to the north, a hint of glittering water. But she saw nothing else. No outposts, no signs of life. Just them.

“Don’t you ever get lonely here?”

His arms tightened slightly around her. But then, because something had changed between them, he said, “Tev, often.” Her heartbeat fluttered pathetically at that. “When it becomes too much, I go to the outposts for a few spans. To trade, to drink and eat, and to…”

He trailed off suddenly, curiously, and Erin looked up at him again. “To what?”

But the look on his face made Erin suddenly realize what he was about to say. To have sex. To mate.

“Oh,” she murmured, whipping forward again. “Right.”

Of course he would. It was only natural and Erin knew that he would have his pick of partners. Yet, they hadn’t talked about this. How many past partners they’d had.

What Erin hadn’t expected was this overwhelming feeling of jealousy. She’d never quite felt anything like it. A little ball of flames that seemed to grow the longer she imagined how many Luxirian females had known him in that way, how many females had stroked his skin and dug their fingernails into his back and felt him sliding between their thighs.

There was a long, awkward stretch of silence.

“Rixella, I—”

“You don’t have to explain,” she hurriedly cut him off. “Of course, you don’t. I understand.”

What disturbed her the most was that she had no right to feel jealous. Absolutely none. Because while they’d both acknowledged what they were to one another, there were no promises made. They both knew what this was. Temporary. And what had happened last night was only a perk during their limited time together, wasn’t it? A way to relieve frustration and loneliness?

So why did Erin feel so empty trying to diminish their connection?

Her breath hitched when his clawed hand wrapped around her throat and turned her face to meet his eyes. Erin’s lips parted, her pupils dilated, the action strangely hot and possessive and primal, though a bit high-handed.

Her clit pulsed, looking up at him. She knew he’d be able to feel the way her heartbeat thudded beneath his fingertips.

“Jealous?” he asked, his eyes narrowing, searching for something in her gaze. He wasn’t taunting her, only curious.

Her lips pressed together. The question sparked something rebellious inside her. Jaxor had called it her uncontrollable side, hadn’t he? The side that liked to fight with him. On purpose.

“Wouldn’t you be?” she challenged. “Imagining countless faces of males I’ve been with and—”

He growled and then silenced her with a kiss. Relief exploded inside her, but Erin wasn’t even sure why she was relieved. About what?

She didn’t know how long he kissed her—how had he grown so good at it, in such a short amount of time?—but when he pulled back, her eyes were unfocused and her limbs felt loose. All the fight had gone out of her and he searched her gaze, as if looking for more, and seemed satisfied when he finally released her throat.

Erin blinked, coming back to reality. “Did you…” she licked her lips, tasting him there. “Did you seriously just kiss me into submission?”

“Tev,” he rasped. “It worked, did it not?”

A sharp intake of breath whistled through her nostrils and she was just about to turn to give him a piece of her mind when he laughed. The sound was husky and warm. Erin’s insides felt like melted butter just listening to it.

So she let it slide. She faced forward so that he wouldn’t see the way her lips quirked up, so he wouldn’t see her little smile and her pleasure at listening to his rare laugh. She couldn’t be mad at him when he laughed.

Erin liked him, she realized. She liked him prickly and she liked him like this. And that was a dangerous realization. Because it meant she would miss him and she’d planned to leave Luxiria with her heart intact.

“You can kiss me into submission if you so desire, rixella,” he rasped in her ear, his lips caressing the shell of it, making her shiver. “I welcome it.”

Erin swallowed, the sound audible. “Duly noted.”

“Are you angry with me?” he murmured, now trailing his lips over her ear. Down and up, down and up. Her breathing went a little heavy and she shifted to squeeze her thighs together.

Erin tried desperately to summon her anger, but couldn’t. Not when he was pressed behind her, not when he was taking her to see the sea and pick the fruits that she really, really liked. Not when he’d given her two amazing orgasms that morning and the memory of his laugh was still ringing in her ears.

“No,” she whispered, her head tilting to the side as his lips trailed down her neck. Yes, she decided, he’d probably had many, many female companions in his lifetime. Because he was practiced in seduction and she didn’t know whether it made her burn with further jealousy or rejoice that he was unleashing his finely honed skills on her.

Her eyelids fluttered shut when his mouth pressed kisses along the column of her throat, and she gasped, her nipples tingling, when he lightly bit down. Hard enough to leave a mark? That dark side of her, the one she’d tried so hard to repress, hoped so.

Maybe we really are perfect for each other, Erin mused suddenly.

“We are here,” he murmured and she felt the vibration of the words against her back.

Her eyes flew open and she gasped, taking in the beauty of the landscape before her. That glimmering hint of water in the distance had turned into an expansive sea.

“The Lopitax Sea,” he said.