For all the rustic trappings, the celebratory feast in the village could have rivaled any but the most debauched Malebranki fete. Music thumped through her, and Kayana smiled as she watched the pulsing, twisting crowd on the makeshift dance floor. She rested her elbows on one of the rails that edged the platform. The wind, cooled by the ocean, filtered through her hair and kissed the skin of her shoulders, keeping her nerves at a constant low-level buzz. Or maybe that was the booze. Alcohol flowed like water, and she could barely take a sip of the fruity, potent local cocktail before one of the villagers brought her another.

She had to be cautious. After all, she’d been promised a later. She wanted to be sober enough to enjoy it.

Given the way Ax’s eyes kept darting toward her, he clearly felt the same. Or he really liked the cut of her dress. It had been a relief to do a bit of shopping before the party started. It gave her plenty of options to wear beside the lounge pants and her currently soaked exo-suit. The bright prints and flowy skirts would have appalled her tradition-bound family; they dressed in the stiff, stuffy formal clothes of the Great Houses, more armor than outfit.

The sarong-like wrap dress, by contrast, felt like nothing at all. Lightweight, free, and if Ax and some of the village men could be trusted, flattering to her figure.

Interesting that it took leaving her past behind completely to finally feel at home. She looked across the crowd to find Ax. He’d changed into a loose shirt and the long kilt favored by the local men, and he half-knelt among a flock of children who paid rapt attention as he regaled them with some story or another. Probably about their adventures in the temple. And, if she knew Ax at all, certainly heavily aggrandized.

Which still managed to make an unexpected warmth bloom under her skin. He took time to pay attention to each child, so none got left out. Shy ones were coached into action, and the boisterous were contained. And he did it deftly enough that none felt slighted. If he were Malebranki, he’d make a hell of a politician.

Kayana pushed that thought away. When she returned home, it wouldn’t be with a Gr’gori lover in tow. The admission ached in her chest, a sudden weight that denied the festive atmosphere around her. Pay attention to the present, like Al’kheri said. Looking too far back or forward endangered your awareness of current opportunities.

The music shifted tempo as a new song started, and the lively pulse of the bass slowed into something more carnal. The crowd reacted, organically coalescing into pairs and triads that moved through and against each other in ways that left little to the imagination.

She caught Ax’s eye as she stepped out into the throng of dancers. Fortunately, the dance floor seemed to be the only place where it was acceptable to not have a drink in hand, since she’d left hers on the rail and no one sought to replace it. The groupings in the crowd opened up space, allowing her to slip toward the center of the dance floor and letting the music wash over her. She’d barely been out there before she felt Ax ease up behind her, fitting against her back as though he belonged there.

For tonight, at least, she was willing to admit that he did. The future would be what it would be.

His arms curled around her waist as he dipped his head to brush a kiss across the skin of her shoulder. His smile was apparent in his voice as he spoke. “It’d be easy to get used to this.”

She rolled her hips, swaying with him more than dancing. “Which this? Huge parties? Or relatively quiet, artisanal villages?”

He nuzzled the skin behind her sensitive earlobe, and she had to hold her breath to keep from trembling. Ax’s voice was husky with want as he responded, “Actually, I meant you. You would be easy to get used to.”

Heat pooled between her legs at the confession, and she ground her backside against him in time with the slow beat of the music. His shaky breath would have been reward enough, but the deliciously firm length of him reminded her of the later she’d been promised.

She reached back to thread her fingers into his hair. The gesture arched her body into his hands, an open invitation to caress. He didn’t hesitate, curving with her as his fingers skimmed over her sides, taking full advantage of the loose garment she wore. The featherlight touch sparked along her nerves, leaving ready embers in its wake. She dragged her nails across his scalp, rolling her hips against him once more, the evidence of his desire stirring an answering fire in her belly.

He brushed another kiss along the point of her ear, tracing the tender tip with a merciless patience that made her need twist like an impatient cat. “I wonder how long we’re expected to put in an appearance here,” he whispered. He grazed his knuckles along the underside of her breast, teasing through the ruched fabric of her halter top.

The touch combined with the promise in his voice tightened her nipples to an almost painful ache. Not that she had any plan to let him know he was winning. “I don’t know, the guests of honor leaving early? It sets a bad precedent.”

He nipped her earlobe, the sudden, sharp pain delicious as at burned along her nerves. “I thought you were a pirate. Aren’t you all about setting bad examples?”

By the Nine, did he have a map of her erogenous zones? For someone who claimed to have never spent time among the Malebranki, Ax had an uncanny ability to know just where and how to touch her and scatter her thoughts like holat seeds in a breeze. She bit her lower lip to keep from whimpering at the delicious scrape of his teeth on her skin.

When her senses had recovered, she opened her eyes. “You make a valid point. I’m hardly living up to the image if I don’t misbehave.” Around them, other groupings were equally carried along by the music, taking advantage of the dim starlight and the insistent beat to slide against each other in the best ways available. Her night vision made it clear that at least some couples had moved past just touching in the shadows on the edges of the village, but she wasn’t in the mood to give the holovid drone that kind of show. On the edge of the crowd, she spotted the matriarch who’d led them to the temple. The older woman gave Kayana a knowing grin and tipped her drink in salute.

“They did give us lovely cottages to sleep in,” she said after a moment of reveling in his caresses. “It would be a shame not to use them.”

His low laugh preceded another kiss along the side of her neck. “So, you’d rather sleep then?” His hips ground up against her, just in case she wasn’t clear on what he might suggest as an alternative.

“Not a chance.” She tightened her fingers in his hair, drawing a hiss from him. “Let’s get out of here.”

His thumb brushed one nipple through the lightweight fabric, teasing another gasp from her and a groan of anticipation from him. His breath was hot on her ear when he whispered, “Lead the way.”

#

HOWEVER RUSTIC THE village looked from the outside, they certain didn’t stick with the theme inside their cottages. A top-of-the-line holovid unit graced one wall, and she already knew that the shower produced a wonderful high-pressure spray. At the moment, however, all she cared about was the big fluffy bed that dominated the middle of the room.

As soon as they were both in the cottage, Kayana slammed the door shut and locked it. “No interruptions,” she muttered as she turned back to face him. “If Berniss wants to talk to us, too bad.” The whole damn ship could go nova. Unless it destroyed the cottage they were in, she didn’t care. Some things were more important.

She closed the distance between them, mouth claiming his as their bodies came together. His hands slid over her skirt as he nipped at her bottom lip. New sparks flared as he pulled at her lip, teeth scraping lightly. The memory of what he could do with his mouth and tongue made her draw a shaky breath. She pressed her thighs together against the slick heat of her need, the pressure not enough, only making her aware of the empty ache for more.

He smiled against her lips before tracing his way down the side of her neck. Deft fingers untied the knot of her halter top, freeing her breasts to the cool air of the room. Ax leaned back to admire his handiwork, face a mixture of devilish lust and reverential awe. Her nipples tightened under his appreciation, the pebbled skin darkening to charcoal before he dipped his head to pull one aching tip into his mouth.

The delicious pleasure that raked her nerves dragged his name from her in a hoarse whisper, and she threaded her fingers into his hair to hold him close. Her other hand ducked beneath the hem of her skirt, fingers sliding between her wet folds to stoke her need higher. She banished her brief twinge of guilt at her selfishness—after all, she had every intent on reciprocating.

“Greedy,” he whispered, his voice husky as he eased a hand down to join hers. Blunt fingers replaced her own, leaving hers to tease while he took.

“Pirate,” she managed to agree before the combination of sensations drove her breath out in a prolonged sigh.

She released his head to tug open the knots on his kilt, which fell to the floor in a rustle of fabric. His cock sprang free, and she hummed her approval before taking him in her hand. Definitely a grower, she nodded, and there’d been plenty there before. His shuddering breath as he fought to maintain control made her grin. She squeezed, stroking her thumb across his tip. So easy to make his control fray on the edges of need.

Not that hers was doing any better.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Fuck, whatever you’re doing, please don’t stop.” His fingers faltered as he thrust reflexively into her fist.

Her mouth slashed across his, tongue sliding over his in a taste of what she really wanted. She broke the kiss to whisper in his ear. “Even if I had someplace better to put it? Someplace wetter?” She drew out the last word, letting him wonder which she meant. He groaned as she eased her touch the barest whisper of skin over skin. She could think of a hundred ways to torment him, but all of that took time. Languid exploration of his body was for after.

Right now, she needed something more urgent.

Kayana stepped away from him, her body rebelling as she broke contact. Wanting to stay. Wanting more. She grabbed a pillow from the bed, throwing it down on the woven mat floor. “Kneel,” she said. Her voice surprised her; what she’d intended to be a command sounded halfway to pleading.

Whichever he heard, he obeyed all the same, lowering himself onto the pillow. She unwound the loose skirt from her hips as she straddled his lap and wrapped her legs around him. With her hands on his shoulders, she leaned back, the arc rolling her hips forward and slicking herself against his cock. His hands shaped the curve of her hips, supporting her as she ground down, his breath matching hers in quick gulps of air.

“Please,” he begged, and the feel of him made her nerves blaze to match the heat in her core. She was thankful the villagers relied on electric lighting, or her v’tana would have engulfed the cottage with flame.

She shifted her hips, so wet that she took him into her in one long stroke, despite his size. Finally, the ache inside her felt sated. His guttural noise of delight told her the feeling was mutual. He lifted her hips, easing back before slowly settling her back onto him. But she didn’t want slow. Not this first time. She wanted—needed—hard. Fast. She dug her heels into his ass, slamming down onto him with a delicious sound that made her breath hitch.

She arched back again, presenting her breasts for his attention. He took the hint, tugging one taut peak between his teeth and tearing another cry from her. He gasped out her name as they came together once more, before descending into sounds too primal to be words. The fire in her core blazed, the living flame eager for something to consume, to be released. Her fingers splayed on the floor as she rode down onto him, the curve of her spine driving him deep. He forced out air, forced out thought, until all that remained was him and the glorious heat of v’tana that threatened to explode into flame at any moment.

She chased her release, so close. His thumb slipped between the join of their bodies, expertly seeking the sensitive nub between her folds. Release flared through her, the v’tana like a supernova, spiraling out in waves as she clamped down around him. With a groan, he followed her over the edge, pouring himself into her with a final thrust.

She shivered, easing herself up enough that she could kiss the damp skin of his neck, taste the salt of their exertion. The satisfied bliss that coursed through her blood increased as he slid his hands up to cradle her back, supporting her. Kayana shoved her fingers through the sweaty mop of his hair with a contented smile. “Not bad. For a Gr’gori.”

His startled bark of laughter made her smile, and he kissed the grin from her face with slow attention. The lazy pleasure in his gaze matched her sated-cat feeling, but kept a delicious energy scoring along her nerves.

He traced one fingertip along the point of her ear. “I’m even better in a bed.”

She smirked, leaning to one side so she could check the clock on the holovid unit. “We’ve got six hours until the ship can pick us up. Prove it.”