Chapter Twenty-Three
It wasn’t a long walk from the observation platform to the bridge exit then down the short corridor to the lift: one hundred feet, at most. To Maggie, today, it seemed like miles.
To get off her own damn bridge, she’d had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other to keep from running and humiliating herself further. Instead, with her head high, she kept her cool, waiting for the doors of the lift to close her in before she dared even take a breath. Maggie knew if she had stood there another moment, having to watch someone else in her chair, making decisions for her ship, or if she’d had to look into Roth’s authoritative, demanding, unyielding, and oh-so-handsome face—who was responsible for it all—she would have lost it.
Plain and simple, she’d have gone apeshit. Screaming at the top of her lungs what they could do with their damned treaty and their advanced technology, or, where they could stick the freaking appendage between their legs that by chance, at birth, gave them the advantage over her and all the other women from the Odyssey who were stuck in this predicament for the very same reason—because they had ovaries!
It just wasn’t fair.
She leaned heavily against the wall as she descended to the residence level. And somehow, without hearing the doors open, or realizing she walked down the hall, and not remember unlocking the door to her suite, she’d made it inside.
An hour later, she was still in the same spot as when she’d arrived, gazing out the window into infinite star-dotted blackness.
“At least I got my room back.”
She had whispered it aloud, trying to find something positive, no matter how inconsequential, when Roth came in.
The doors whooshed open and shut behind her. She didn’t turn, and he didn’t speak, but she knew it was Roth. His unique scent was hauntingly familiar, and oddly enough, it was also now hers. And, as he moved up behind her, she recognized the heat of his body against the length of her spine and the slow cadence of his breathing. His very presence filled her body with awareness, although he still hadn’t touched her or uttered a single word.
Maggie broke the silence. “I’d rather be alone, tonight.”
“That is not going to happen.” He moved in closer, his shirt a bare whisper as it brushed against her back. “You’ve had a trying day, little one.”
Boy, oh boy, was that an understatement.
“You won’t be allowed on the bridge if you cannot remain silent, Maggie. Dayne is in command and must have control of the ship and the respect of his men.”
Biting her tongue to contain a response that would blister his ears, and likely earn her a blistering lower as a reward, she kept her back to him, saying nothing.
Shifting behind her, his hands, big and warm, slid up her arms to her shoulders.
“I know how hard this is on you—”
“No, you don’t. How could you? Until you’ve been captured and had everything you’ve ever known ripped away from you. Until you’re told what to do, what to wear, and who to love, and when the one thing that made you feel like you had a purpose is handed over to another, you wouldn’t know. Until the tiniest bit of that happens to you, Roth, you’ll have no idea how hard this is for me.”
About the time she’d bit out “who to love,” his hands fell away. She should have stopped then, well, before that actually, but she’d been stripped raw, down to her bare bones. And rather than guarding her words, and the blows they landed because she was angry—although he hadn’t any choice in this whole damned mating process, either—she’d been uncaring and insensitive.
For a moment, it made her feel better that he got to experience a tiny bit of her reality. In the end, he was still who he was—the commander of the fleet, a strong leader, and most importantly, a man who held incredible power—and no matter how she argued, or ranted, or cried to the universe how unjust it was, nothing would change.
“We’ve been over this, Maggie. Although I’m certain you are a capable captain, regardless of your skill and experience, my men will not take orders from a woman.”
“My crew could have run the ship. Teagan is with us and is an excellent navigator. All of my people excel at their jobs.”
“That isn’t in doubt, either. Nonetheless, as we discussed—”
“As you determined.”
He paused, and she heard him inhale, counting to ten no doubt before continuing. “This is true; I did decide, for two fundamental reasons. First, you had gaping holes in your team with more than one hundred of your females staying behind. And, second, Primarian women are not warriors; they do not lead men into potentially dangerous situations, nor do they command ships in space flight.”
“And there’s the kicker, isn’t it?”
“I thought you had accepted who and what I am, and what you are now because you are mated to me. We are changing, Maggie, trying to find a way to help one another, attempting to be more accepting of your different beliefs, but our entire world and way of life cannot change for one hundred and forty-seven females overnight.”
“And if things work out and a treaty is signed, and there are tens of thousands of times more of us. What then?”
“I do not know. You said your world had to evolve and accept women as equals. Did that happen instantaneously?”
“No,” she conceded quietly, “after centuries, it’s still a work in progress.”
“If that is the case, how can you expect us to embrace an entirely new way of thinking more quickly than your kind was able to do?”
Damn him; she hated when he was right.
“We’ll have to work through the issues as they arise. For now, this is how it must be. Fighting with me and against our ways is going to get you nowhere.”
“Except perhaps over your knee.”
“I wasn’t going to bring that up, but yes. I anticipate it happening often if you stay this course.”
For the first time, she looked away from the dark heavens outside her window. She noticed her clasped hands were gripped so tightly the skin was blanched of color. She let go, rubbing her damp palms dry on her clothes.
“I didn’t imagine it would be so trying. Then I saw Dayne in my chair, giving orders on my ship… It’s all too real, now that it’s staring me in the face every minute.”
They lapsed into another long silence.
“It’s late,” Roth noted at length. “We should get you something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You can’t keep skipping meals, mate.”
“I know, it’s just… I need some time to process all of this, alone.”
His hands returned, curving around her shoulders, and she felt the warmth of his breath in her hair. His lips brushed the top of her head, lingering for a moment before he released her and moved off down the hall to the bedroom.
***
Near midnight, her brain exhausted from her internal debate, but closer to acceptance than it had been earlier in the day, she, at last, followed Roth to their bed. Tiptoeing in the dark so that she wouldn’t wake him, she pawed through the drawers and grabbed the first thing she came across that, by touch, seemed conducive for sleeping. It was one of his shirts, which hung to her knees, the material soft like a nightgown, and it smelled of him, or of them, which she was too tired to reason out right about now. Slipping under the covers, she rolled onto her side, facing away from him.
She should have known she couldn’t slip anything by him. Her head had no sooner settled on the pillow, when Roth’s long arm reached across the gulf between them and pulled her back into his long frame, aligning them spoon-style. He shifted until he surrounded her, resting his head alongside hers, and he kissed the curve of her neck where it met her shoulder. It felt good to be in his arms, and she welcomed what comfort he could give after the day she’d had.
“We’ll find a way to move past this, Maggie.”
“I know, Roth,” she murmured, concluding more softly, “we have to.” Left unspoken between them was the understanding for her and Roth, and the other fated pairs, that short of the ultimate sacrifice, there was no other option except to find a way.
“Sleep, we’ll talk more tomorrow.”
She twisted and glanced back at him. He was gentle and understanding, when, after what she’d said, she expected the stern disciplinarian to make an appearance, and haul her over his lap. Puzzled, she wiggled around until she could see his face and his beautifully expressive eyes.
“You’re not angry?”
“I was, but no longer.”
“Then you aren’t going to, um, spank me for acting like…” She paused a moment, searching for his exact words. “A stubborn, insubordinate brat.”
“You were that, little captain. You also caused me more than a few sympathetic looks from my men.”
Tentatively, she brought her hands up and rested them palms flat on his chest, one thumb lightly stroking the broad expanse of smooth muscle. “I have a temper.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
She huffed a small laugh. “You've got a bit of one, too, Commander, and it pushes my buttons, but that’s not entirely your fault.”
He chuckled, “That’s very big of you to admit, mate.”
“I’ll try not to blow up in front of your crew anymore, Roth.” She frowned, adding, “Because you give as good as you get, maybe better. Those threats to spank me in front of everyone were very effective.”
“They weren’t threats, love.”
She swallowed. “Another reason not to air our dirty laundry in public; you can be kind of scary when you’re ticked. I’d also hate for my bad behavior to be the reason your men change their minds about taking an Earth female for a mate. The alliance would crumble if they thought all of us were vicious-tongued shrews.”
“You’re too tough on yourself.”
“I am?” A laugh bubbled up. “That’s a switch. I figured you’d come in itchy-palmed and ready to spank.”
“Are you disappointed? Because that can certainly be arranged.”
She peered up at him, trying to determine if he was serious. When she couldn’t tell for sure, she demurred, “No, uh, I’m good. Thanks.”
He grinned. “As to your concern about my men, for as many looks of sympathy sent my way, twice as many were envious. You were stunning, and I dare say several are hoping you have a feisty sister or two waiting for you when we arrive.”
“You’re teasing.”
“Quite the opposite. I’m trying very hard to put myself in your place. I can imagine how difficult it is to have everything change in the blink of an eye.”
Appreciating his effort, she tipped her head back and whispered earnestly, “Thank you, Roth.”
His answer was to dip his head and slide his nose alongside hers. It was a sweetly, arousing caress, especially when the warmth of his breath brushed her lips. When he didn’t kiss her, she pressed near, until they were touching.
“Are you sure you don’t want to…”
“Spank you? Well, mate,” he went on with an exaggerated sigh, “if you insist.”
“Not that, the other. We haven’t done it today, which would be a first since we officially mated.”
“Mm… I suppose you’re right. We should ‘do it.’ Ending our streak when it’s barely begun, wouldn’t do at all, now would it?”
“No,” she sighed, as he pressed a kiss to the edge of her mouth then another, lightly, and another. Moving in closer, until the aching tips of her breasts were flush against his chest, she added, “What’s more, I think we just made up.”
“What of it?”
Her lashes came up, and her head edged back. “You haven’t heard of make-up sex? Where I come from, it has a certain reputation for being hotter than any other kind.”
“Any sex with you is going to be hot, Maggie. We’re mates.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t help sounding deflated because she was.
He laughed. “You’re disappointed you have a lifetime of incredible sex with me in your future?”
“No, but I’ve never had make-up sex before. I was looking forward to it.”
“Mm, let me see what I can do about that.” He rolled them both, bringing her on top and with a strength that stole her breath, slid her up his body until her thighs straddled his shoulders. His gaze dragged upward, starting at her hips, and her skin tingled wherever his eyes touched as if his fingers caressed every inch. As they slid over her breasts, her nipples stood up taut in eager anticipation. Pupils dilated and dark with yearning, he stared up at her with blatant need.
“I’m hungry for a taste, mate.”
A whimper rose from her throat as she nodded, eagerly.
Except he wasn’t asking for permission and was already lifting her higher. “Spread,” he growled, and when her thighs parted, he brought her down to his mouth, her pussy already wet and tingling before the first touch.
His hands slipped between her thighs, pushing them wider. He supported her weight on his palms as his fingers curled upward, over her backside, holding her still for his searching tongue. He tantalized and teased, setting off a blinding burst of pleasure as he first lashed her clit then moved lower, working her open and driving her wild.
“Roth…” she breathed as she always did when he roused her ardor to the breaking point. His answering growl told her he was enjoying it nearly as much. But she wanted more for him and reached behind her, finding him with one hand. Sliding her fingers over the satiny smooth head, she moved her hand down the shaft, curling her fingers around him. Feeling his urgent heat, she gripped him tight and began stroking up and down from base to tip.
“Stop,” he growled, sending vibrations throughout her ultra-sensitive places. The delicious tremors nearly short-circuited her brain, and she barely managed to keep from coming apart as she looked down, meeting his desire-filled eyes.
She choked out, “Why?”
“Because I want to come inside you, not in your hand. Grip the headboard, Maggie, with both hands.”
When she didn’t immediately ease her grip, he turned slightly and nipped her inner thigh. “Obey me, mate, or this will be over sooner than you’d like.”
With one last slow pump, she did as she was told. Then she rode his tongue until she was ready to explode, his name now a continual moan of pleasure to the wall.
At the last minute, when one lick, lash, or nip would have taken her over the top, his hands squeezed her bottom tighter as he lifted her. He slipped from between her spread thighs, twisted, and came up behind her on his knees. His hands curled around her hips and tilted her toward him then, aided by a channel drenched with arousal, he plunged inside in one long, exquisite stroke.
His knees shifted between her thighs, spreading them wide. Next, Roth lifted her legs to curl back over his own. This tilted her body forward onto her hands where they gripped the headboard. Still, he wanted more. With his hands curving around her body, they moved up in front and latched onto the head rail inside of her own. As he began to move, his chest pressed her down until her cheek rested on the backs of his hands.
He pulled almost all the way out, but before he lost her completely, he surged inside, with a powerful thrust. Each time she stretched, enveloped, and melted around his length and incredible girth.
Moved to hold on to more than the cold, unyielding headboard, her hands inched inward, finding his, and she interlocked their fingers. He bent his head, his mouth opening on her skin as he latched onto the curve of her neck.
Relentlessly, he thrust into her, riding her with a raw rhythm that imprinted on her memory, until she was once more on the brink. Her pussy was quivering, her spread thighs trembling; she was more than ready to come.
His hands moved again, and his arms encircled her body. As he sat back on his heels, taking her with him, one hand cupped a breast, the other sliding down to glide over her clit. Helpless to do anything except take him into her body, she dropped her head on his shoulder, moaning his name.
Trapped between torment and ecstasy, when he hammered into her once more, she gave in, coming in a hot rush of pure need.
Behind her, around her, with him driving deep inside, she held on tightly and felt him surrender, at last, his orgasm inflamed by the intensity of her passion.
In the aftermath, they rested quietly, lying side by side with limbs entwined. Hearing his breathing slow and even out, she thought he slept. Roth drifting off before her was a rare occurrence. She raised her hand, brushing his dark, wavy hair from his face then placed her palm lightly on his cheek, her thumb very gently gliding along his lips—the source of infinite pleasure.
“I love you, Roth,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I was such a pain in the ass by resisting our mating.” Inching her head forward, she aligned her mouth with his in a whisper-soft kiss so as not to wake him. With her body deliciously sore, she settled into his embrace and let her eyes drift closed.
When his arms flexed, her lashes flew open, finding his lavender depths peering directly into ones she knew reflected the same vivid color.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“Maggie, my mate,” he said in a low-timbered murmur. “I heard every word, but next time, make sure I’m fully awake when you reveal such heartfelt feelings or offer an apology, for I wouldn’t want to miss it.”
Flushing hotly, she was afraid what she had accidentally offered might not be returned. He’d never said so. Like a coward, she began to backtrack. “I didn’t,” she uttered.
“You did, and I accept both your love and regrets if you accept mine. Sometimes, when the Maker gives you a beautiful gift, bringing it great distances, over incredible obstacles, and literally lays her at your feet, it takes a hard hit to the head, or a sign, like my mark emblazoned on your gorgeous body, before a man sees what’s in front of his face.”
“I, uh…” she started then stopped, her brows drawing downward. “What are you saying?”
He smiled gently. “That I love you, too, purrada, and have since the moment I saw you but was too stubborn to admit it.”
As she gazed back at him, a warm glow of happiness flowed through her. For once, she couldn’t think of a response.
“Maggie?”
Joy suddenly bubbled up from inside her, and she laughed while wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m glad the Maker decided to lay me at your feet and mark me, instead of dropping me on your head, Commander. After falling so far, I might not have recovered in time to hear you apologize.”
She giggled at the light swat he landed on her bottom.
“He graced me with a jokester as well, it seems.”
Smiling happily, she said nothing more as she cuddled up against him, content to replay his words and the fact that he thought her beautiful, her body gorgeous, and best of all that he loved her and thought she was a gift from his much-vaunted Maker.
Before she dozed off, she sent more thanks to heaven, this time silently, to her God, or his Maker, or whatever divine intervention made this man coming into her life possible.