Chapter Twelve
Paax
The day of the Naming Ceremony arrived swiftly. Mercy washed and dressed Axil and Drake in overly long white tunics.
“It’s a Christening gown.”
“Why is there lace?” It hardly seemed practical.
“Because that’s traditional.”
“Lace.”
“The white gown.”
“And your parents subjected you to this? I did not know Terrans had a naming ceremony.”
“It’s called a Christening, actually, and it’s similar.”
“Will they always have to wear this garment?”
“What? No. It’s just for the ceremony.” Satisfied that the boys were fed, washed and dressed, she handed them off to Dorothy.
“I’ll watch them while you get ready,” she said.
Mercy laid out a pale lavender robe and started to undress. She was breathtakingly lovely as she disrobed. He watched her go through these motions a hundred times and never grew tired of the sight.
Paax took her hands and drew her away. “I have to get dressed,” she said.
“Let me wash you, little star.”
“We don’t have time—”
His kiss silenced her protest. She grew soft against him. “The ceremony waits for us. There is no rush.”
“I’m feeling a little under dressed here.”
He disrobed immediately, standing firm for her inspection. Her fingers skated across the scar on his shoulder. “I didn’t know you were injured.”
“It is nothing.”
Her eyes flashed. “We’ve had this conversation. That’s not nothing.”
He took her hand and brought her fingertips to his lips. “I was injured. I healed. Do not worry.”
Her pupils went wide and her nipples hardened. The musky scent of her arousal perfumed the air and he hardened in response. He pressed her to him, grinding his cock against her stomach. “See what you do to me, little star.”
Her hand drifted down and wrapped around his cock. He groaned at her touch. She stroked the length of him.
He pulled away and knelt at her feet. Confusion filled her eyes. “Today is about you, mate. Not me. Let me serve you. Let me pleasure you.”
Gently, he pressed his lips to his mate’s still soft and round belly. Red marks appeared vivid against her pale skin. She was beautiful, creation and life in soft, resilient vessel. “A miracle happened here,” he murmured.
Mercy
Paax led her into the cleansing room and stood with her under the streaming water. Gently he worked shampoo into her hair, massaging her scalp with his strong fingers, careful to keep suds out of her eyes. He finger-combed her long hair, working the conditioner in. He worked soap into a thick lather on her body. Using his hand, he scooped water and rinsed away the lather one scoop at a time.
Everywhere he touched ached for him, for more. His hands massaged down her arms, across her back and shoulders and tenderly worked the sensitive flesh of her breasts. Heavy and aching, she craved his mouth on her.
“Paax—”
“Hush. I’m not done worshiping you.”
He knelt at her feet, hands working a lather across her belly, her hips and bottom. His hands glided down her thighs and then skimmed up the inside. Unconsciously she widened her stance for him.
He leaned in to the apex of her thighs and breathed in, like she was the greatest thing he ever smelled. His dark lashes rested on the warm plum of his skin, fluttering. An aching hollow feeling flared deep within her. She needed him as much as he clearly desired her.
“Paax, I want you but I’m not ready.” Not for him to plunge deep within her, as much as she craved him to fill her.
He made a placating, soothing noise, the vibrations going to straight to her core. Her hips rocked forward, eager. One hand hooked behind her leg and lifted it over his shoulder, resting it there.
His mouth sought out her pussy, tongue diving into her folds. One hand remained on her bottom, keeping her in place, not that she was about to go anywhere. He lapped at her, savoring all of her. His tongue, rough and wet, circled her clit. The sensation was enough to drive her over the edge but he pressed on. His lips clamped over her and sucked.
Mercy looked down and saw his hard, thick cock in hand, stroking. The tattoos across his shoulders, chest and back cast a silvery light.
He was speaking to her but she couldn’t focus. She caught fragments of words like “mine” and “best”. Her husband was the best but that probably wasn’t what he was saying.
She placed one hand on his head for stability and the other grabbed him by the horn to steer. This pushed his wonderful mouth into overdrive. Pressure and speed increased like he was a man starved. They both were. It seemed so long since they had a moment to themselves, to enjoy themselves, without the discomfort of a pregnant belly. Though, honestly, Paax didn’t seem to mind at the time. Quite the opposite, in fact.
His tongue speared her entrance, sending her over. Her knees trembled and her grip tightened on his horn. She nearly slipped down but he held her up, letting her hips buck as she rode out her climax.
Paax pressed the side of his cheek against her belly, his horn dangerously close to her nipples. She watched as his hand worked his length, fast and tight with a twist at the head. He released, splashing his hot seed against her thigh and sagged against her.
“I love you with every fiber of my being. The moment I saw you, I knew I belonged to you. You make my heart whole,” he said.
Her fingers worked through his wet hair. He smiled up at her, vivid blue eyes shining. Whatever the future held, she knew that he was her home and her family.