“Yes.”
“That isn’t enough,” I countered.
She looked confused for a moment, then remembered. It hadn’t even been two weeks for me since she said it last, but for her, it had been much longer.
“Master.”
Fark. I groaned and claimed her mouth, fucking her with my finger, slipping a second inside her just so I could hear the little catch in her breath. That one word on her lips made me insane. Powerful. Dominant. I needed to be in control of her, to know she was with me, under me. Safe. Mine. And yet she had all the power, the ability to take me to my knees.
And so I broke the kiss and went willingly, lowered myself until I knelt before her on the stone tile, slid my hands down her body to her thighs and nudged them apart.
I could see her perfect pussy, and my mouth watered to taste it, to burn her essence on my tongue. In my mind.
Putting my mouth on her, I licked her from dripping entrance to swollen clit. Once. Twice. Her body wilted and she leaned back against the shower wall. With my hands on her hips, I held her up as I took her with my mouth. I wasn’t gentle.
If I was going to be on my knees before her, I would be ruthless, show her that she was still mine, that her body responded to me. She was sweet and tangy on my tongue, the scent of her so feminine and perfect. My cock pulsed and wept with the need to be deep inside her.
“Come for me, Natalie, and then we’ll play.”
I didn’t give her a chance to think as I slid a third finger into her pussy and sucked her clit into my mouth, flicked the sensitive nub with my tongue over and over as my fingers filled her. Fucked her.
I’d nearly lost her today and that knowledge burned through me as I pressed a little harder, readied her tight pussy for my cock. She was so perfect, so beautiful and ripe. She consumed me and I pushed aside everything but this moment, her body and her surrender.
I could not be gentle. Why should I? My touch, my words were demands. She would submit. She would give me everything. I needed everything.
“Come now.” I pulled the orgasm from her. She cried out, the sound of it echoing in the shower, her hands tangling in my hair, fierce and tight, as her pussy clenched and spasmed around my fingers.
The medallion, the key to the vault hung low, just above her abdomen where my son had grown and her body curved with a softness I ached to touch, ached to fill with a baby once again. But I could no longer look at the medallion as a gift to her. It had become a curse, had placed her in danger.
Standing, I lifted the medallion gently, holding it in the palm of my hand. “I will remove this, mate.”
Her hand wrapped around my wrist and she stilled. Her chest rose and fell rapidly from her release, but the pleasure faded from her blue eyes. “What?”
Shaking my head, I lowered my forehead until it touched hers. “I will remove it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, gara.”
I kissed her softly, gently, regret in every cell of my body. I’d placed her in danger for my own selfish whim, my desire to follow tradition, to mark her, to make sure every fucking idiot male on this planet knew she was mine.
But being mine placed her at risk. The gold that adorned her made her a target, and that was no longer acceptable. I kissed her, over and over. “I’m sorry. Never again, gara.”
Her body stiffened, her lips no longer soft and pliant beneath mine, but hard and defiant until, finally, she turned her head away. Her grip on my wrist tightened and her hand shook. “Why? You don’t want me anymore? You don’t want to mark me? Are you sending us back?”
“Back?”
“To Earth.” She looked at me, tears gathering in her eyes, and behind those tears, hurt and rage. “I won’t leave Noah. You can’t have him. I’ll die before I leave my son.”
Confusion froze me in place. Hot water poured over us both as her words seeped through the haze of desire clouding my brain. “Natalie, you are mine. You are not going anywhere. I forbid you to leave my side.”
Her chin lifted and she looked up at me with defiance in every line of her body. “You told me this chain, this adornment, was how Trion men marked their mates. This was your claim, that it would protect me from claims by other men.”
“It is tradition.” I rolled the gold chain loosely between my fingers. I would not place her in danger for my own selfish ends. I could stare at my emblem hanging from her perfect nipples for hours, but my pleasure faded when I thought of Commander Loris, and the others in the holding cells, the men who had allies, friends who would continue to target my mate. “I will remove this curse from your body.”
“No.”
Her refusal stopped me cold and I lifted my head to meet her gaze. “You do not give me orders, mate.”
She stepped forward, pushing her body into mine, driving me to the edge of my control when I needed it most. “No. You can’t have it back. It’s mine.”
I turned off the water and carried her to the bedroom. There, where I’d ordered it placed the day I’d submitted to the Interstellar Brides Program’s testing, was the traditional claiming bench, warm and ready before the fire.