I thrust my hips up hard from beneath her, earning a loud moan from her. My sac tightens a second before my release floods into her. The moment the toxica hits her system, she falls gracefully into my waiting arms. As her mate, it’s my duty to hold her and protect her. To keep her safe while her body renders her useless so she can take my seed. I stroke my fingers through her wild curls and kiss her head.
“There, there,” I rumble. “I have you, mate.”
I blink, blink, blink, fighting the fatigue that plagues me. She wants me to sleep. I promised her I’d sleep. But not now. Not while she’s vulnerable. Gently, I ease her off my cock and guide her to the bed beside me. I lie on my side and run my claws through her hair, pushing it away from her face. When her eyes that are filled with tears pin me, I know I messed up.
She can’t speak, but I don’t need words.
I’m supposed to sleep.
I vowed I would.
I’m pretty sure in some way she thought being on top would somehow keep me in bed and convince me to sleep.
She doesn’t need to pin me, though.
It’s much simpler than that.
I made a promise.
“I know,” I murmur, snuggling up close and drawing the blankets over us. “You said sleep. I’m going to try my best, Whisper.”
She blinks several times, relief shining in them.
“Before I drift off,” I say with a yawn, “just know you’re the best thing to ever happen to me. What I feel…” I blink open my eyes that must have closed. “What I feel for you is…it’s so intense, Quinn. I can’t get enough.”
I blink open my eyes again.
She’s gone.
A panicked roar fills my lungs but is calmed when a warm cloth cleans off my cock.
“Shh, Oz,” she murmurs. “You have to sleep for more than thirty minutes.”
Thirty?
I was out for thirty?
My cock twitches, eager for another round, but I can barely keep my eyes open. I vaguely realize she’s turning off lights, cloaking us in darkness. Her body is still naked when she crawls back into bed with me. I pull her to me, nuzzling my nose in her curls.
“Mine,” I murmur.
“Yours. Now sleep before I knock you out like they did in the caveman days.”
“Caveman days? They clubbed their males?”
“No, but they should have when they acted like big idiots,” she says, a playful tone in her voice. “If we lived in the caveman days, I would’ve totally clubbed you over the head and dragged you back to my cave.”
“My mate is fierce and brave,” I say with a grin.
“Your mate cares deeply for you.”
Her blunt nails scrape soothing circles over my chest. It’s the most relaxing sensation. I want to stay awake, memorizing the way each nerve ending comes alive at her touch.
Unfortunately, her alien ways are quite powerful.
I’m asleep by my next breath.
This time, I don’t wake up.
9
Quinn
Eight Solars Left
He sleeps.
Finally.
I guess it wasn’t so hard after all. Well, some things weren’t. I blush even though there’s no one to see me doing it. No one awake anyway.
I study Oz, my mate, like I used to before I let everyone know I was awake. Back when it was the two of us and no one else. No imminent threats or weapons to build. In this moment, the universe shrinks to the two of us. And I realize as long as it’s the two of us against the world, then we can conquer anything.
Even the end of it.
While he rests, I memorize every part of him. It’s no wonder he spends nights looking at me. I’m tempted to do the same. Starting with his too-long slicked back hair. During the day he pulls it back into the sexiest little ponytail. Sometimes I want to let it down and run my hands through it to see if it’s as soft as it looks. It’s softer. The dark tracery of veins forms a map beneath his skin, the slightest blue-black shadow.
Grease streaks mar his otherwise perfect brow and dot his high, slashing cheekbones. He always seems to be covered in grease from working, no matter how many showers he takes. Kind of like how I always have a tablet stylus behind my ear or twisted up in my hair or a spider resting on my shoulder.
Food and rest erased some of the gaunt lines from the hollows in his cheeks. I’d love to keep him in bed for another few days, really give him time to restore and recuperate, but I know we don’t have that kind of time left. Eight solars, a little over a week.
A little over a week until I could lose everything I’ve gained.
We won’t let that happen.
We can’t.
Ignoring my thoughts, I refocus back on Oz. My hands trace down the wall of his muscular chest and he shifts beneath my touch, turning to me, even in sleep. I love how he needs me, wants me, as much as I want him. Maybe more. It’s a novel concept, one I can get used to. From there, my hand moves to his abdomen, ridged with firm muscle underneath his unblemished skin.