Michonne and the crew of the Gypsy Moth weren’t the only ones asked to depart the planet. Lunilla and her entourage had to leave, too. But at least she fared better than the Kanishqui. For their violent actions against La’zuun guests, they were rounded up and taken prisoner. Some whispered they would make a fine stew.

Gag.

Michonne did manage a hug with her sister before they were taken to their respective ships. She whispered, “Thanks for coming to my aid.”

“I hope you’re barren,” was her sister’s reply.

Aboard the ship, there was some chaos as they prepared to depart. With nothing to do, she went to her room while Damon went to give his report to the captain.

She flopped onto the bed. Alive and kind of amazed. When she’d made the split-second decision to save Damon, she’d not thought it through very well. She’d acted. Acted to save the man who consumed her thoughts. When she’d seen him, suspended and bloody, she’d been so worried. What if her plan failed? What if he died?

She didn’t want him to die. Because I care about him.

They’d known each other only a short time, and yet he’d come to mean something to her. He was her husband, and today, by sacrificing himself, he’d shown himself also to be her protector.

And soon, her lover.

When the door finally opened, she was ready.

“Husband.” She greeted him with a soft smile and not a stitch of clothing. His eyes widened. His wounds had been tended and his skin cleaned. However, that didn’t stop her from taking him by the hand and leading him into the bathing chamber.

He studied her as she stripped him, acting as his servant, revealing all that lovely taut flesh.

“Why did you come back?”

“I thought I already answered this,” she said, disposing of his clothes and trying to keep her gaze averted from his thickening cock.

“You did, but I don’t understand. You could have escaped. Avoided that mess.”

“That would have involved leaving you to die.”

“And?” He held a question in his eyes.

She placed her hands on his chest, feeling the heat of him through her palms. “I don’t want you to die. Husband.” She said the word low, and he growled.

“Marriage to you is dangerous.”

“It is.”

“You’re dangerous.”

The cleansing air jets turned on as she tilted her head. “How am I dangerous?”

His hands spanned her waist and drew her into the molten heat of his body. “Because you make me want things.”

“Like?” she whispered.

He didn’t reply, rather instead crushed his mouth to hers, instantly igniting the passion that always simmered between them.

She opened her mouth that their tongues might dance. The heat of their breath mingled. Their skin touched, awakening a tingling from head to toe, and especially in between. She found herself shoved against the smooth wall of the shower unit, her butt pressed right against the spot one of the lights tried to beam and clean. It heated her skin, but she didn’t care as he braced himself against her, one hand on the wall, the other reaching to cup a breast. She arched at the contact, pushing the curve of her breast further into his palm.

He brushed his thumb over it and murmured against her lips, “I can’t believe I’m here with you.”

The reminder of how close they’d come to losing each other brought on a fierce need. She grabbed his head and kissed him hard, their teeth banging, and still she couldn’t get enough of him.

He tore his mouth from hers, and she mewled in protest, only to sigh as he ducked his head that he might brush his lips across the tip of her breast. Electrifying. Her whole body quivered. Then went rigid as he sucked on the erect nipple.

“Yes,” she gasped, only to cry out as he bit down on the tip. He swirled his tongue around the peak before sucking at it again, tugging at her flesh.

She closed her eyes, losing herself in the enjoyment. Feeling every suck and nibble not only on her breasts but between her legs, too.

The play went two ways. As he touched her, so did she touch him, her hands stroking over his broad shoulders, raking her nails on his skin.

She stroked lower, running her fingers down his ribcage to his buttocks. She dug her fingers into that taut flesh, and he grunted. But he didn’t stop playing. Damon alternated between tugging on her taut nipples with his lips and licking them. When he bit down, her whole body jerked.

She parted her legs for the insistent thrust of his thigh and then rode it, rubbing her mound against him, the hard muscle providing a friction for her throbbing sex.

When he replaced that thigh with his cock, she grabbed it, delighted to have something harder to play with. She used it to rub her clitoris, the fat head of his shaft just right for stimulating her.

He groaned. “If you don’t stop…”

He’d lose control? What a lovely thing to say.

Arousal coursed through her body. She was more than ready for him, and yet he seemed intent on teasing.

And pleasing.

He dropped to his knees, spread her thighs, and palmed her buttocks, pulling her forward against his mouth. She groaned at the first lick.

Moaned at the second.

He lashed her with his tongue, back and forth, drawing panted cries. He stabbed into her, licking at her honey before teasing her button again.

Her head thrashed as she moaned. “Yes. Yes.” He kept licking and brought things to a new level by thrusting two fingers into her. “Damon!” She said his name as a small climax hit, a ripple that clenched his fingers tight.

Only then did he finally stand, the throbbing tip of his cock poking at her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he lifted her, aligning her with his body, plunging his shaft into her welcoming sheath.

He might have growled, “Mine.” She knew she did. The thrust rammed him right through her maidenhead, stretched her, and claimed in a way her mark never did. Brought her more pleasure than she could have imagined.

For a moment, she could have sworn time slowed, and within that pocket only she and Damon existed. Two souls combining into one.

Then the climax hit. And by climax, she meant she lost her mind. She certainly keened and cried out as her body shuddered with the ecstasy of it. She thought she heard him shout as he spurted hotly into her body.

In that moment, she knew this was the only man for her. Her husband. She had never felt anything more right.

And when it was done, he caught her in his arms and buried his face in her arm. Just held her. Didn’t ruin it with words. Didn’t say anything at all. But when they were snuggled in bed, naked, their bodies intertwined, she happily murmured, “Thank you.”

His reply? “Always.”

Their next session proved just an intense. As did the one after. They indulged several times that night. Yet she awoke refreshed and smiling to find him watching her.

“Good morning, wife.”

“Is it morning already?” She stretched and noted how his gaze watched, and smoldered. “I’m surprised you’re still here. Shouldn’t you be off exercising with your friends?”

“I took the day off to relax.”

By relax he meant spend it with her. In bed. It was heavenly. The days following that pure bliss. It was also a time of discovery.

As he got called on various tasks, sometimes dragging her along, she began to understand what he did on the ship. Pretty much anything the captain couldn’t. Which kept Damon busy. But not so busy that he ignored her when his workday was done.

They fell into a routine, one of discovery, play, and work.

It was perfect, which meant it couldn’t last.

She was learning how to fire a weapon in the holodeck to avoid being so useless in the next fight when she was paged by her husband.

“Michi, can you come to the bridge?”

Her husband’s request emerged from the wrist transmitter he’d gotten her. This wasn’t the first time he’d asked her to meet him there. Anytime the Moth came across an interesting galactic phenomenon, he wanted to show her. They shared everything like a real couple should.

With a smile on her lips, she almost skipped to see him. She entered the bridge and opened her mouth to say hello, only to freeze. She blinked, certain it was a mirage, but the man didn’t disappear.

“Papa? How did you get here?”

Her father, dressed in a dark blue uniform, adorned with silver weave that glistened, was a big man in his own right, tall and strong, yet showing signs of age in the lines of his face and the gray of his hair—that he refused to dye—turned. “Daughter. I’ve come to bring you home.”

“I have a home. Here on this ship.”

Papa’s lips flattened. “You are not staying on the Gypsy Moth.”

“I’ll have to discuss it with Damon.” A man who stood ramrod still and silent, but his eyes…they blazed.

“It’s not up to him.” Her father folded his arms over his chest.

“He’s my husband.”

“Not for long.”

When her father moved toward Damon, she flung herself between them. “Don’t you dare kill him.”

“I wasn’t planning to. The man did the family a service when he rescued you from that slimy Kanishqui. But you’re worth more than a mere first mate. Which is why I got dispensation to dissolve the wedding.”

“What?” Her eyes widened. “I thought it wasn’t possible.”

“Only under special circumstances. Given you married to avoid an alliance with someone you deemed unsuitable, and the first mate’s recorded reluctance, I was given an annulment protocol.”

“What’s that mean?” Damon asked.

“It means,” Father said, turning his gaze on Damon, “that you will be compensated for your service to the family and free to continue with your life.”

“What if I don’t want a divorce?” she asked.

The dark gaze of her father turned back to Michi. “Your wants aren’t the question here. Family honor and alliances are. The good news is you won’t need to wait a mourning period, and I’ve lined up a few suitable suitors. I think it’s past time we settled this situation.”

“You can’t just decide that for us,” Damon argued.

“It’s already done. The signal for the annulment was sent the moment you entered the room. The bond is being severed as we speak.”

Damon coughed. Then coughed again, raising his hand and then lowering it to show a spot of liquid metal. Her mark.

Father signaled to one of his people, and a woman scooped the puddle into a box. “It is done.”

“But…” Her arms were grabbed, with Damon looking on, his expression grim. “Aren’t you going to do something?”

“It’s probably for the best, princess.”

Best for who? She wanted to scream, I love you. But did he feel the same way? Wouldn’t he fight for her if he truly wanted her?

She cast one last look over her shoulder. A longing one, and for a moment, he met her gaze, anguish in it, quickly covered by a placid mask.

He wouldn’t stop her father from taking her away.

Did nothing as she was boarded onto her father’s luxury cruiser. Did not even try to contact her as they left that galaxy, heading for home.

Her meager pile of things was waiting for her in the stateroom assigned. Including a tiny box.

A gift? She was tempted to toss it. Why keep a gift from a man who didn’t love her? And why hadn’t he given it to her before? What was inside?

Curiosity won. She flipped open the lid and sobbed when she saw the ring nestled within.