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I’d rather die.

My cock would just have to stand down until she was ready to play. For now, we would talk to her and ease her concerns. I was determined to earn her trust and affection. I hoped, beyond reason, that she could one day learn to look past our Hive contamination and come to care for us.

And where was Ryston with her damn clothes? Every step she took, the blanket dragged on the floor, playing the children’s game of peek-a-boo with the bare skin of her back and shoulder.

If she would just drop her arms to her sides, the fabric would fall, and she would be gloriously naked before me.

I remained near the door, afraid to test my resolve not to touch her by following her into the living area. Ryston would come, give her a gown to cover herself, and we would send her into the bedroom to dress.

Soft and warm and so very naked beneath that blanket, she was too dangerous a temptation.

Rachel wandered the room, touching everything. She lifted the pillows from the sofa and sniffed them. How odd.

“I hope the suite is acceptable, mate. It’s your home now. Anything you want to do to change things, all you need to do is ask.”

Her smile was a curious mix of nervousness and resignation, as were the emotions bombarding me through the collar.

“It’s fine. For now.” She tossed the pillow back among the others on the sofa and took in the entire room in a glance. “It’s doesn’t smell like anything.”

I took a step forward, studying her closely. “I don’t understand. Is that not acceptable?”

“No. It’s not that.” She walked toward me slowly, covering the distance between us as I forgot to breathe. She was so small and yet she had me by the fucking balls. Aching, blue ones. “A home should smell like something, you know? Like cookies baking. Or fabric softener from the dryer. Maybe chicken noodle soup on the stove or a scented candle burning in the kitchen.” She stopped when she was within an arm’s length of me and looked up, way up, into my eyes. “But it doesn’t smell like anything. It’s like a model home the contractors build to try to sell you a house. It’s pretty, but no one actually lives there.”

There was no anger behind her words, and I was not sure what she wanted or needed me to say. “I have no idea what you are talking about, mate. But if you want our home to smell like something in particular, I will instruct the base programmers to enter whatever you need into the S-Gen database for replication.”

Her smile was more than worth my confusion. “I have no idea what you just said.”

“That makes us even. I have not slept in this space yet. These are quarters for those with mates. It is as new for you as it is for me.”

I expected her to step away, but she did not move, simply stood before me, studying my face as if I were a great puzzle she was trying to solve. “Mates. So, are you really mine?”

The bold question shocked me, but the vulnerability I felt behind the words knocked the air from my lungs. She’d come so far, and while I worried she might reject us, I was home. This planet was new for her. Her worry at being rejected was a true concern, at least until she believed my words. “Yes.”

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, a lip I ached to kiss, but I held completely still as I felt her emotions settle, as if she’d reached some sort of decision. “Then what now?”

I held out my hand and nearly leapt with joy when she didn’t hesitate to place her much smaller one in my own. Tugging gently, I drew her forward until she stood pressed to my body. I wrapped my arms around her and she turned, placing her cheek to my chest.

“Now, we will get to know each other. I know you are wary, Rachel. But you are mine and I want no other. Ryston and I will take care of you. We will protect you, cherish you, and ensure your pleasure. When you grow heavy with child, we will treasure you both beyond anything you can imagine. You are hope and life and home for us, mate. You can’t understand what you mean to us. And we will wait. We will wait to claim you until you are ready.”

Her arms snaked around my waist as a shudder passed through her body. “What if I don’t want to wait? What if I want you to fuck me now?”

Desire unfurled within me and for the first time I realized I was not feeling my own body’s need, but hers. The longing to belong, to surrender, to feel wanted, rose within my mate like a storm.

The door slid open behind me and Ryston entered the room.

Where I was always controlled, deliberate in my choices, Ryston was wild and completely fearless.

I turned to meet his gaze as he set aside a soft, flowing gown of deepest copper—the color of the Rone family—and the ATB he’d taken from the doctor. Inside that box were the anal toys we would need to make sure our mate was ready for the claiming ceremony, and I could not wait to begin their use. As to the gown, I approved of his choice. If her collar must remain black until her official claiming, we both wanted everyone on the planet to know exactly who she belonged to.

Us.

Ryston shoved the items aside as if they were of no consequence and closed the distance between us. I had to hope he felt her desire and need through his collar. His gaze darted from our mate to me. “By the gods, Maxim. You two are fucking killing me.”

Yes, he felt it, too.

Rachel gasped as Ryston’s almost frenzied need to fuck hit us both like a blast from an ion cannon.

Without asking, he placed his hands on Rachel’s shoulders and spun her to face him.


Tags: Grace Goodwin Interstellar Brides: The Colony Science Fiction