CHAPTER SIX

York

 

Of course, he would come. He’s the Sidyth who doesn’t hate the rain. Of course, I’m interested in the Sidyth who can handle the rain. I only have a few chances to get an advantage on these aliens, and the one I get aroused for is the one who can run in the rain. I could have sworn I would be safe from anyone following me. The older one with the white man bun at the gate didn’t stop me when I said I wanted to go outside. He merely looked once into the rain and nodded his head.

Like he knew what was going on.

Like he knew I was trying to get away from Azan.

The thought angers me in more ways than one because I’m not upset with Azan for the reasons his brothers think.

He rejected me, not the other way around.

I’m not scared of him; he’s scared of me.

I’m the one who wants him, but he doesn’t want me.

Or if he does, he’s too afraid to let me in.

The thunder on this planet is considerably louder than the thunder at home, but I don’t mind. The lightning is more like heat lightning during the summer. Plus, it’s warm, which is nice. Despite all the rain, and my skimpy outfit, it’s more like splashing around in a hot tub. It’s pleasant, and I remember to take note of how enjoyable this is.

I hope the older one or Azan’s brother don’t think I’m running away.

I don’t want to be away from the others.

I need some time to think. To decide whether I’m going to keep pursuing Azan or let it go and accept that he’ll never let me in.

I thought I had the answer I needed until I heard him calling for me.

At first, I almost missed it, convinced I’m going crazy with need. But lifting my head, I see Azan’s massive form running towards me like something right out of a Nicholas Sparks book – not that I’ve read any of those. Nope, I certainly haven’t read every single one and fantasized about romantic moments like this with a man I loved and who loved me.

Azan’s here.

In the rain, in a mask, with a rock-hard cock, Azan stands before me.

I bite my lip, still shocked he’s come all this way and wonder if someone told him I ran away.

Or maybe he figured it out on his own? That would certainly be romantic too.

He crouches beside me, and there’s mud coating his bare feet, all the way up to his sparsely scaled knees.

He says nothing at first, merely staring ahead into the blurry, wet landscape.

This isn’t a terrible planet. For someone (like me) who likes rain, this is actually the perfect place to live. I enjoy the dankness and the beautiful fog and clouds rolling in because the colors are so much different than the ones at home. It’s warm despite the breeze brushing up against the palm-ish like trees with strange eggplant looking fruit hanging from their leaves. And as the rain lessens, I’m able to see snowless mountains in the distance.

It’s beautiful.

I want to stay, but I’m tired of experiencing everything alone.

I take in a few, deep trembling breaths as Azan and I continue to sit in silence, wondering what I should say to him. Should I demand he takes off the mask again? Do I go total girl on him and threaten him with an all-too-sexy ultimatum? Do I slide up and lean against his shoulder, relishing in his scent, hoping this isn’t the end for us? Despite my secret love for Nicholas Sparks novels, I don’t care for drama.

I like Azan. I’m pretty sure he likes me. Why can’t it be as simple as that?

“You taste like rain, you know?”

I jerk my head in Azan’s direction. He turns slowly, eyes softening before he turns away again.

“You asked me before what you tasted like. I am telling you. You taste like rain.”

I lick my lips. “You think I taste like rain?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think. I know you taste like rain.”

A blush blooms on my cheeks. Is this his way of apologizing for kicking me out? Is he giving me a piece of him because he’s not ready to remove the mask?

Either way, my shoulders relax, and I find myself sliding closer to him, feeling the chill of his skin against mine. I can’t imagine how he’s cold, but then I remember the sun rayers. They must be cold-blooded and need so much heat and light on this cloudy, rainy planet. I never thought about it before, but that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about other things. Rain. Azan thinks I taste like rain, and I’ve never had anyone say anything sexier to me before. I think of how Mom used to diffuse oils in the house when she was home, and how some of them reminded her of rain. It’s one of the reasons I love rain so much.

Christmas and rain – two of the only few good memories I have with Mom.

Funny, because one tastes like me, and the other smells like him.

“I am sorry,” Azan continues. “For ever making you feel like your affections were not wanted.”

“Look, if you’re not ready to show me—”

“I will be ready,” he says, his tone leaking with promise. “But you must give me time. I have never wanted anyone as much as I want you. And I am afraid of losing you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I breath, turning my body slightly so I can face him. “You don’t have to push yourself. I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I…” I trail off, wondering how much I can share with him, but if I’m bitching about how he needs to give a part of himself to me, how hypocritical is it, if I don’t do the same?

His eyes dance. He wants me to continue.

“I like you, Azan. I don’t know why, but I do—”

He lunges towards me before I can finish, and it comes as such a surprise, that he shoves me into the mud but quickly seizes my back, so I don’t topple completely. His mask softly caresses against my cheek, my jaw, and neck. There’s something moving in there, something soft, but another surface that’s much harder.

Fangs.

My eyes widen, wondering if this is what he’s so afraid of me seeing.

He’s got fangs like a saber toothed tiger? Big deal. I can handle it.

His movements remain gentle, looping his fingers through the wet tangles of my hair, pulling my face against his so our noses touch. My nipples harden under his gaze, and the moisture between my legs is no longer just rain. I hear a familiar slurping sound, and I picture him lapping up my juices between his fangs and through the mask.

Oh God, can the fangs really be all he’s hiding?

Begging him to show me, bubbles on my tongue, but I just got him to admit he wants me. He’s told me what I taste like and he’s sorry. And here I am, with a beautiful alien in my grasp, and I can’t stop thinking about his mouth. I’m a horrible, horrible person. A nosy person. A greedy person.

Something cool and thick suddenly brushes against the folds of my pussy, and I gasp out in surprise, jerking my head towards my thighs. Azan’s fingers have disappeared beneath my skirt.

Is he…

“I’m sorry,” Azan mutters, as though he feels the need to explain himself all the time. “It seems I can’t control myself—”

“No!” I grab his hand and keep his fingertips against my folds. Those scales. My God. “I want you to.”

The slick, wet sound of his pumping fingers into my pussy becomes louder than the rain. I arch my back, tilting my face towards the sky as he continues to push and pull, thrusting in and out. Azan eases me back into the mud, and I no longer care about the wet earth messing up my skin or hair. Azan’s fucking me with his scaled fingers. His touch feels so good I can barely control myself, pushing my hips up so he can go deeper and faster.

“It’s okay?” Azan asks, barely able to speak English, but still trying.

For me.

“It’s good.” I close my eyes, already beginning to feel the start of an orgasm.

Oh God, it’s so hot. He’s so hot. This is so hot.

I reach behind me and grip the wet ground, allowing the earth to slick between the gaps of my fingers. Azan continues to work his. I have no idea what he’s thinking, and I don’t think he does either. Both of us are acting on instinct, and as much as I want to kiss him, I don’t want to push. If this is what Azan can give me, this is what I’m going to take.

He seems nervous at first but becoming more confident. I never realized how awkward it is with someone, and not being able to kiss. I remember the feel of those massive fangs behind his mask and can’t stand it much longer. I’m not going to last…

“York,” Azan groans, pulling me back to the present moment.

Or rather, my impending orgasm.

I hear him say my name again as his fingers pick up the pace, and I’m all but writhing in the mud, filthy, and loving every moment. Those scales feel so good. Oh damn, how can this guy be a virgin? He’s fucking me with experienced fingers. This isn’t a person who doesn’t know what they’re doing.

“Oh my God, Azan. You’re good at this.” I arch my back as my vision blurs, and the rain increases, forcing me to close my eyes. I try to pinch my legs together, but Azan hisses impatiently, and forces them apart, giving him easier access to my bare pussy. The people at the academy keep us shaved down there because most aliens think our ‘fur’ gets in the way of their pleasure. I punch the mud. “Oh… Azan… I’m… I’m going to…”

Then I jerk as the Fourth of July explodes between my legs, and an orgasm erupts from my throat. I’m barely able to keep control, gasping and calling out for Azan as my body contorts with each little rush. Oh. Damn. Nothing prepared me for this.

Did I say I needed to know what’s behind his mask?

Not if he knows how to make me come like that with his fingers.

I collapse, losing control of my body as the rest of my orgasm and aftershocks rock through my body. I’m still so deliciously spent, and the way Azan stares down at me from his seated position is enough to remind me there’s going to be more. There has to be more because I’ll never be able to enjoy finger fucking unless he’s by my side.

And when he reaches down to squeeze my shoulder, and his eyes crinkle in the corner?

It’s the most simple, innocent and erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.

He’s tasting the air again. I hear the slurping sound, and unable to stop the smirk on my lips, I rise up on my elbows and cock an eyebrow at him.

“Still taste like rain?”

He turns to me.

“You taste like the Christmas, too.”

 

***

 

No one says anything as Azan, and I come inside from the rain, but if I’m as delicious smelling as Azan says, I’m afraid everyone knows what we’ve done. I almost feel bad that Azan made me come so hard using only his fingers, and I haven’t been given a chance to offer him anything in return. I don’t want him to think he owes me. Just like he’s pleasured me, there’s nothing I want more than to pleasure him. Thoughts of his massive cock rush through my mind as Azan nods wordlessly at Glykoran.

“Found her, eh?” His faded yellow eyes crinkle in the corners. “Good. I’ll let the others know.”

Azan doesn’t say anything, but I don’t think he needs to. He keeps his large hand at the small of my back, guiding me down the muddy halls. He doesn’t hesitate now, not bothering to take me past the Gathering Room, instead, taking me back to his lair. He closes the curtain and turns his back to me for a moment, thick shoulders heaving as he takes in a few deep breaths.

Maybe the rain hurts Sidyths more than I thought?

“Hey, are you alright?” I move closer before he holds up a hand with his back turned. I take a few steps closer to him, fighting the urge to lick the rain off his pale, glistening skin, and it’s a good thing I don’t because his words might have shocked me into choking.

“I want to show you.”

I stop in my tracks and stare in silence at the massive alien with his back turned. The hand resting at his toned hip, slowly rises and uncurls at the base of his neck. His fingers flex a few times before I realize what he’s doing.

He’s reaching for a buckle at the back of his head, hidden beneath his thick, blond hair.

“Azan, wait.” I run up and grab his arm. Damn, he’s thick. Ugh, can’t think about that right now. I don’t want him to think he has to do this, especially since I haven’t done anything to deserve it yet. The man made me come, and now he thinks he owes me another favor. It’s bittersweet to know how much he thinks he doesn’t deserve me.

“I don’t want another moment to go by thinking you’ll reject me because of this. I’m in too deep now. I want to give you the chance to reject me.”

“Azan, stop. I won’t—”

“This isn’t only for you. It’s for me too.”

This gives me pause, but still. I don’t like the idea of him thinking he has to do something, for me or for anyone else, to be accepted. “You still don’t have to show me.”

“I know.” His voice is a soft rumble as I hear a soft click. “I want to.”

“Azan—”

“I want you, and so I have to take a chance.”

I’m about to retort when the mask unbuckles and gently feathers near his feet. He hasn’t turned yet, and he’s not going to. He’s waiting for me to step up and see for myself or run for the hills.

I take a deep breath, and move to his side, catching a glimpse of milky white teeth, and then move to stand in front of him.

It’s hard not to gasp at first, staring fully at his fangs. I don’t know why but I’m shocked when I do see everything I felt behind the mask is real. The fangs make him so much less humanoid, and I hate myself for thinking that, even for a moment. Yet, how am I supposed to keep my composure?

He has fangs.

They’re similar to a snake’s, only they’re enormous. Probably close to half a foot long each, and clear. I swear to God there’s a syrupy pink liquid towards the tips, but the ends of each fang are capped with what looks like a metal shot glass, so I can’t see if they’re pointed at the ends.

I’m sure they are.

“Oh my God.” I take a step back.

“They are capped, but I still do not like others to see them,” Azan explains softly. “It is why I do not talk so much, they are large, so they muffle my speech. Others made fun of me during my education, and when I simply became tired of explaining them, defending them, I started wearing the mask.” His eyes lower to mine hurt. “It was actually Mama’s idea, but it certainly didn’t help attract a woman.”

I frown, still looking at those curious fangs.

“They’re not that bad.” I finally find the courage to lean forward. I’m sure he has to keep them capped because they’re so sharp, but I also can’t get over that strange looking syrup inside. It looks like watered down Benadryl. “Bend down. You’re too tall; I can’t see them properly.”

He doesn’t say anything, but stoops over, lowering his thick body down closer to mine. He’s so nervous, I can tell by his posture, and I can’t stop staring. How can I? For some reason, I had a hard time thinking of Azan as alien, but the evidence is now directly in front of me. Six-inch-long fangs. Kissing will certainly be an interesting experience, if not an impossible one. I lift a finger and bring it towards his face, but he flinches away.

“Do not.” His voice is thick. “They’re capped, but they will have to be emptied soon. I don’t want any accidents.”

“I’ve been stung by bees before.” I’m hoping to make him less uncomfortable. When he narrows his eyes, I try to explain. “They have stingers. On their asses. Hurts like a bitch, but they’re kind of similar to those—”

“It’s not the fangs I’m worried about but what’s inside them.”

My hand freezes in the empty space between us, and I quickly lower it back down to my side.

How could I have been so stupid?

“They’re poisonous.” I never considered it before. I hate myself for not figuring it out sooner.

He nods. “I’m poisonous.”

There’s a long pause as he remains hunched over me, searching my eyes for an answer. A reassurance. Something. And though it’s only a mask he’s removed, he seems naked under my gaze. I lick my lips and continue to stare at the massive alien before me, wondering how long it’s been since he felt comfortable enough to remove his mask at all. He said his mama made him wear the mask. Sadly, I understand the need to keep his fangs capped, but I can’t believe his own mother wanted him to hide such a major part of him because it might have made others uncomfortable.

Forcing him to chide himself for so many years seems cruel because it’s obviously given him a complex. I search my brain, thinking about what little I know about snakes, and my eyes widen.

“So, they’re capped.”

“Yes.”

“So, unless one of those things actually pierces my skin, the poison means nothing, right?”

He frowns, probably starting to realize where I’m going with this. “Unless you have an open wound that it seeps into, yes.”

“No wounds.” I lean forward. “And it’s just those two, right? The rest of your mouth is okay?

“Yes, but—”

I don’t give him a chance to talk his way out of this and lunge forward, mashing my lips between those two massive fangs. I’m a fool. This kiss could kill me if I’m wrong or he’s wrong, but I can’t go another moment without touching my mouth to his. His lips are as I imagined, soft and plush. Like his skin, he tastes like Christmas. I’m hungry for his touch, and though he tries to push me away at first, I force my arms around his neck and jump into his arms, snaking my legs around his thick waist.

He must want to fight me but can’t find the will because he pulls me against him, continuing to his keep his lips pressed against mine. It’s obvious he doesn’t have the slightest clue what he’s doing, and there’s something so hot about that. He’s tentative and nervous, probably not only because he’s a newbie to kissing, but the whole poisonous fangs thing as well.

I moan, hoping to encourage him more, and he stiffens as I dart my tongue between his lips.

Sidyths have scales all over their tongues, but I never imagined it’d feel this good. It’s hard to avoid his fangs completely, and I can’t help but get a little nervous when my tongue brushes against the plastic-like surface, but I don’t want Azan to think for a single second that I’m regretting my choice to kiss him.

After a few tense moments, Azan starts to relax into the kiss, keeping me tightly in his arms. He’s holding me up with ease, and it’s hard not to get turned on by how strong he is and how quickly he’s able to master the art of the French kiss. I’m all but humping him when he finds the strength to pull away, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his nose.

“We should not,” he says thickly.

“Why?”

“I could hurt you.” He frowns. “It would only take one slip. My caps to become full. For them to slip off, for me to pierce you.”

“Azan.” I grab his face, fangs and all, and make sure his eyes are on me. “Don’t you like kissing me?”

He swallows hard. His throbbing dick presses into my ass. I wiggle against the crown, eliciting a needy groan from my massive alien.

“I do.” His eyes are wild with lust, and it’s turning me on more and more.

“Then let’s kiss. There’s no harm in that, is there?”

“There’s harm. I told you—”

“Kiss me, Azan. I want you to.”

I hate being so forceful, and if I’m completely honest with myself, I’m terrified of everything he’s said. It wouldn’t take much to kill me, but I want him so much. He’s bulky and beautiful, like every guy I’ve ever had a crush on in high school who would never take a second look at me because they’re too busy trying to get girls like Alaska. I can’t get enough of Azan’s touch, his words, his strength, his intelligence, and his kindness.

No single being has ever turned me on as much as him.

I bring my mouth towards him again, and a hiss escapes. He’s not turning me away. He’s lowering me to the bed. I’m nervous as one of those capped fangs brushes against my collarbone as he moves, but the thrill is like an aphrodisiac. I need more. I shouldn’t grow wetter knowing I could die from kissing him so much, but I am. I love different. I love a break from the norm, and I’ve never experienced anything like this before. Azan looks down at me, tonguing the tip of each fang to make sure the caps are in place, and I reach up and grab his cheeks, wanting more.

I’m dripping with moisture, and a squeal of delight escapes my lips when Azan’s large hands drop my breasts, testing their texture.

I moan, and he looks at me with so much lust and desire that I’m about to come.

“Oh…” I breath as he squeezes them carefully, watching my face for a reaction. Sidyth women don’t have huge breasts, but as Azan looks down at me, I wonder if he’s disappointed. After all, Blythe’s tits are fucking epic, and mine are a pretty normal size if not on the small side.

“Perfect,” Azan breaths, lowering his face and darting his tongue out to tease my nipple. “My Chosen is perfect.”

Ohhh… sweet Mother of God.

My hips buck when his scaled tongue works around my nipple, and I wonder if he could use the length to squeeze the tip. It would certainly make for a fun experience, and the thought of this alone causes me to shiver as a bubble of arousal drips from my pussy. Azan sniffs loudly, immediately picking up on this, and his eyes drop to my skirt before flickering back up to me.

“You can go lower.” I take one of his hands in mine and lower it towards my pussy. “I imagined you doing this to me last night.”

His nostrils flare. Some of the scales splay away from his cock. “You thought of me.”

“I thought we went over that.” I’m barely able to speak as I maneuver Azan’s hand, so two of his fingers are stretched out. “Touch me… here.”

That’s all he needs to hear because, after a quick flick of his tongue, two fingers thrust inside me. It’s not soft or pretty, it’s quick and powerful, and I cry out with surprise by how much two fingers alone can fill me. I’m slick with desire, and the flapping sound of my juices as he works his fingers in and out of my folds a few times fills the air before he pulls them out, looking over them curiously.

They glisten, and Azan tilts his head as though thinking about something.

And though I’m on the verge of feeling incredibly embarrassed, he dips those fingers into his mouth and sucks on them. He smacks his lips, and nothings ever been hotter or dirtier to watch in my entire life.

“Rain,” he says thickly, lapping up the rest of my juices with his long, scaled tongue. It’s like he can’t get enough and returns to my pussy for a few thrusts, and then tastes it again. And again. I’m watching how an addict becomes addicted, I guess. But it dawns on me that he’s doing this because he’s not confident enough to go down there with his mouth, and I’m suddenly very aroused by the thought of him going there.

But I won’t push him. I’ve pushed so far already, so despite how horny I am for his mouth, I let him continue his little exploration of finger fucking, tasting and starting again. He says I taste like rain. Suddenly, I want to know what he’s talking about, so the next time he goes to lick his fingers, I grab his wrist. It’s like I pulled him out from a trance.

“Let me try.” My voice sounds tentative, but I have to know if I taste as good as he’s making it seem. I lick my lips and lower his hand to my mouth, testing the thick liquid on the tip of his finger. All I detect is the heady familiar taste of my come, and nothing more. I’ll have to take Azan’s word for it because encouraged by my actions, he pushes his finger deeper into my mouth, making me cry out.

It’s so hot.

It’s so fucking dirty.

I love it.

Despite the innocence of his exploration, there’s something so raunchy about it as well. I’m sucking my own juices off the finger of a fanged, poisonous Sidyth with self-esteem issues. He leans forward, his cock brushing against my clit, and I accidentally come undone. It’s too much. A thick finger in my mouth and a dick brushing against me when I’m already writhing against him.

The orgasm rocks through my body without apologies, and I fall against the bed in surprise, and Azan follows me, his damn cock still pressed up against me. He’s watching with such interest like he’s never seen a woman come before. I don’t blame him for being shocked. I’ve never come this easily. He’s barely touched me, and I’m panting like a cat in heat as the orgasm swirls through my pussy, up my hips, across my tits, and up past my mouth when I’m calling out his name.

He grows more curious, leaning in for a closer look as I finally start to come down from my high.

“Oh… oh my God.” I clutch my chest as I try to calm down. “That’s never happened before.”

“You have never been pleasured?”

The question almost makes me laugh, and my pussy tingles with the heated look in his eyes. He looks so proud, but I never want to lie to him.

“Not like that. Not from eating myself off another man’s fingers.” I can’t help but giggle. “I was fine until that massive cock of yours brushed me in the right place.” Clutching my head, I stare up at the muddy ceiling, trying to figure out how such a thing is possible. “I don’t think I’ve ever come so easily in my life.”

“Maybe it’s because I’ve Chosen you,” he mutters, laying down in bed. His voice is soft and tentative, but there’s also something else growing. Confidence: the biggest turn-on of all.

 

***

 

I can’t believe he’s still here with me. I’m in his arms. He’s an exiled Sidyth, so I should be frightened, but I feel as though all of my sexiest fantasies have come true. I’m no longer bored, and there’s nothing normal about the man lying next to me. He looks so utterly peaceful, and it’s hard not to stare at him well into the night. We’re both dry in bed thanks to the sun rayers, but even if I was soaking wet, I wouldn’t have left because I don’t want this moment to end.

Azan’s still not wearing the mask.

He’s asleep.

I’m not aware how much time has passed, but soon his eyes open, and he smiles carefully at me. I don’t have to guess what his mouth is doing; I see it as clear as anything now, and already, I’m getting more used to the fangs.

“Tell me you slept a little.”

I shake my head. “Sorry.”

He sits up in bed and stretches his arms above his head, pushing out his amazing rock hard chest before he lowers his arms and turns back to me. And his eyes widen, immediately touching his face. “I didn’t put the mask back on.”

“You didn’t.”

He dips his head and brushes his lips against mine, and it’s not to smile at his attempt to kiss me. He’s learning quickly, and I’m sure it will only be a matter of time before I’m begging him day and night to kiss me, hold me tight, and dip his fingers into my folds. There’s so much of him to want, and I’m excited because I’ll never have enough.

Curling his fingers through my hair, he continues to press his lips against mine, and I moan, enjoying every gentle moment of his attention.

“You are not frightened?” he asks, pulling away.

“Of what?” My eyes grow hooded, and instinctively, Azan reaches for his mask. I don’t stop him, though I am saddened his beautiful lips will be hidden.

“Of me.”

I frown. “Azan, you’re still the same person you were last night with the mask on.”

“I am poison.”

Oh no. Has the honeymoon period already come to an end? Is Azan returning back to his normal, paranoid self? No. I won’t allow it. I take his face in my hands and kiss the fabric his mouth is. I brush the tip of my tongue around his fangs and trace the outline of his full lips.

“I asked you to show me, Azan. And remember? You wanted to show me. You wanted me to see. And I have. I am not going to change my mind.”

He swallows hard. “Change your mind? About what?”

“About you.”

His eyes crinkle in the corner with a careful smile. I can’t help but feel as though I am bringing this handsome man to life. He’s alive, but I fear this is the first time he’s truly understood what it means to truly live. He should be able to feel my passion for him, not only in my eyes but in-between my thighs as well. He can’t lie to himself anymore. He can’t punish himself for things that cannot be changed. If he wants me to kiss him while wearing the mask, I have no problem doing that because I know what secret lies beneath.

Nothing can change the way I feel. He may have only started watching me because of my reputation, but he wants me because of it too.

“York. I have Chosen you,” Azan says in a low rumble. “You must also know, I will never be upset with you if you should leave me for another male.”

My hands jerk, holding his face, and I tilt my head to the side.

“I would never leave you, idiot.” I can’t help snarling a bit. “Didn’t you hear what Korben said? If we want to stay—”

“That is not what I mean, though I will certainly talk to Prince Korben today and let him know I may have a Chosen.”

“You do have one!” I lower my hands, placing them on my lap. “Azan, I know about your fangs. I know about the poison. What else do you need from me before you believe how much I want you?”

He arches an eyebrow, challenging. “You know I will never be able to pleasure you with my mouth.”

Does he think I’m so shallow? He kissed me last night. That’s all I wanted. Does he really think I care that he can’t go down on me?

“I know things like this are important to humans—”

“Don’t talk to me about what’s important.” I’m starting to lose my temper again. “We kissed. You wear the caps. It’s fine. I’m not worried.”

“There will always be a chance I could hurt you. I could slip up. I could make a mistake.”

“We’ll deal with it.”

His frown deepens. “If by some amazing fortune you were to stay with me and I could give you a sprog, I could pass my problem on to him. Or her. Are you still alright?”

This catches me off guard.

“Huh?” We’re talking about kids already?

He stands from the bed and stalks over to the corner, crossing his arms. I can’t tell if he’s trying to intimidate me or if he simply needs space to think, but his words resonate more deeply than I want them to. I’m not stupid. I know what sprogs are, and there’s a possibility for me to carry a Sidyth child. But honestly, I hadn’t considered Azan passing his ‘problem’ to a baby. I don’t know why, but this gives me pause.

“I am sure human and Sidyth women are similar in that they use the breast to feed the sprog,” Azan continues. He doesn’t meet my gaze. “I also know it’s probably too soon to talk about such things – as it would be such an honor I could not even imagine it – but I have to say it. I wouldn’t feel right unless I told you everything you should be worried about before you decide to choose me as your mate.”

I lick my lips, still thinking this over. I’m a thinker. It’s what I do. “And what? I carry your child. It has what you have. What…” I swallow hard, “… what happens then?”

“It could bite you while in the womb.”

“Babies don’t have teeth.”

“There’s no guarantee poison couldn’t be passed in other ways.”

“Your mom handled it. I can too.”

“You’re human. There’s no guarantee. If the sprog were to pass poison while inside of you, it may kill you. Even if it were to make it to birth, you would not be able to feed it properly. It would be shameful. Mama had to deal with the shame after I was born. A child who is not fed by breast is a child that should not be left to live in this world.”

I storm over to Azan. “I thought humans were supposed to be the primitive ones! That’s fucking backwoods shit right there.”

“Though I do not understand backwoods, I believe I understand the sentiment. You must understand, York. I heard it all my life. It is true, after all. I do not want you to resent me if I were to one day have the privilege of giving you a sprog only to pass my disease.”

I take in his words, still shocked by the terrible things Azan’s said. A kid who isn’t breastfed shouldn’t be allowed to live? Damn, and I thought humans were assholes about breastfeeding. This reaches a whole new level. No wonder Azan’s so sensitive. Despite being seven feet tall, he’s been broken down by a loved one. Despite looking so strong, his heart is weak.

Now that I have him, I won’t let him feel anything less than invincible.

Still, I’m not sure I’m ready to die carrying a kid.

“Hey.” I keep my voice low, so he doesn’t retreat any further into his worries. “I’m right here, right now, and I’m not going anywhere. We just hooked up. We don’t have to plan our retirement yet.”

“I Chose you.”

“That still doesn’t mean we have to start thinking about having kids tomorrow.” I narrow my eyes. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“Bridge?”

“Another human saying.”

Azan’s eyebrows pinched together. “Do you not want children?”

I rub the back of my neck. Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with ever having kids. When I signed up for this line of work, I assumed being a mom was off the table. Plus, I’m only twenty-one. I never imagined being one of those hot young moms, dropping kids off at a daycare in tight yoga pants, and rocking a flat stomach. Another thought crosses my mind, though. One where Azan holds a child up to his fanged face and nuzzles his or her nose. He smiles at me, grateful for giving him the family he’s only dreamed about for so long.

I want to see that. Maybe not today but one day.

“We’ll tackle that road when we get there, Azan.”

“I do not plan to spar pavement, but I don’t ever want you to think you are trapped with me, York.” He lowers his head. “Mama did not know she would carry a poisonous child. You are lucky enough to know what you are getting yourself into.”

“I don’t want to leave.” I think about punching him in the face again, but my hand still stings from my first attempt. “Stop asking me that.” Doesn’t he understand? Despite my worries, he’s the one I want. There’s nothing to debate. I’m not going to change my mind, but I’m not going to keep screaming over and over that I want to be with him. Azan needs to know I’ll love him and be with him no matter what else he tries to throw at me.

Ugh, did I say love? It should be too soon, but it’s not.

I love him.

And as annoying as it is, I’m going to have to spend most of my time convincing Azan I’m not going to leave. I don’t mind. Confidence is brewing in him, despite his worries. He’s starting to change. Removing his mask and kissing me has shown that much. I still remember how hard I came last night from his scaled fingers alone. I’m already getting hot and bothered thinking about it, and Azan must notice because his arms uncross, and he stares down hard at my skirt.

Whoops.

“You are aroused again.” There’s a hint of a smile in his voice.

“Sorry, I was uh… thinking about last night.”

There it is again. Confidence. “I did not know human women could experience pleasure so easily.”

“They can’t,” I say with a smirk. “It’s something only you can do for me.”

He cocks his head to the side, and it’s one of the most adorable sights I’ve ever seen.

“Is this an invitation for me to pleasure you again?”

I moan at the thought, but I also don’t like the idea of convincing myself that I love someone I haven’t spoken that much to. I need to know more about him. I want to know everything about him, even if I have to dig up the cruelties hidden in his past. I already don’t like hearing about his mama, but if I’m going to one day (and that’s still a very big ‘if’) carry his offspring, I think I should know a little more than how quickly he can make me come.

I move away and can’t help but smile knowing Azan’s watching my ass move in my tiny skirt. I’m a white girl with small tits, but no one’s ever complained about my ass. For some reason, I’ve been naturally endowed with a curvy, tight little thing, and I’m sure Azan’s noticed this, and not for the first time. It only takes a moment before he’s back on the bed, ready to fuck me with those incredible scaled fingers.

It’s tempting as hell.

“First,” I mutter, not wanting to lose focus. “Tell me about you.”

“About me?” He frowns. “What do you want to know?”

I shrug. “Anything. Everything. Your choice.”

Azan’s frown deepens, and he pulls away slightly on the bed, and whatever hard-on is spiking in his pants, surely is going back down.

“I’m one of the only ones here who doesn’t mind the rain, so that makes me very important for deliveries. If the ship arrives and it’s pouring, I’m one of the only ones who can go out to retrieve items Korben’s had shipped. His Highness is everything—”

“So why didn’t anyone come when we were delivered?” I remember how the Todas guided us here, and how nervous we were when no one picked us up.

“You arrived early. We were not prepared.”

I hum thoughtfully. “Deliveries, you said?” He nods. “Even though you’re in exile, you can still have items brought here?” Another nod. “That’s not too bad of a sentence. You know, other than having to buy humans for mates.”

Azan’s eyes slip towards mine. “There are worse things.”

I can’t help but blush. “So how often does it rain here? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“You can ask me anything. I am yours now.” My blush deepens. “It rains many days; this is one of the rainiest planets in our system.” He shrugs. “It is one of the reasons Korben’s father wanted us sent to Hethdiss. He knew most of us would be miserable and burrow into the earth.” He shakes his head. “When we first arrived, it took many months of digging to create the lairs. Most of us were miserable. I did not speak to Hujun for weeks when there was a collapse due to his laziness.”

“Wait. You guys built all of these? They weren’t here to start?” I’m stunned, barely able to process so much work in such a short amount of time. The idea that so many Sidyths were dumped on a rainy planet with nowhere to live… and I remember Blythe saying the males were wealthy or well-to-do back home. All that manual labor must have been terrible, monsters or not.

“As I said, it took many months, and it rained almost every day.” He shudders. “I did not mind so much, but many of my brothers were angry. Some—” he stops himself short, deciding not to continue.

Plus, my mind’s still reeling. It’s hard to imagine being sent away from home and told we’ll have to find a way to survive. Azan said it took months to create the lairs, and I can’t fathom digging into the ground for a day, let alone for months. It’s so hard to imagine doing so much work in rainy weather. I love the rain, but I wouldn’t want to build a home for the nineteen other girls.

“Geezus,” I mutter. “I’m surprised most of you aren’t dead after so much work.”

“Some of us did die.” Azan doesn’t say anything else about that. “Luckily, it did not take too long for Korben to establish some connections, so deliveries could be made. Korben’s father – for all his cruelty towards women – truly does not want his eldest son to die out here. Prince Korben still has access to all his funding, and I’m sure if his father did not want deliveries coming to this planet then they would not.”

“So, all the stuff in the food preparation area,” I mutter. “All the beds and pillows. Curtains, and the sun rayers—”

“All from Prince Korben’s Galactal account. He has been very kind to us. The rest of our assets have been frozen. I do not have a percentage of the money Prince Korben has, but I also do not have access to it. I suppose Prince Korben’s father wants him to deplete all his assets. Or he simply hopes the rest of us will die, and he can bring him home with a clear conscience.”

“That’s complete and utter bull.”

Azan smirks.

It’s the most I’ve ever heard him say, and it’s downright helpful to have some information. Fucking Blythe. She was with Korben for over a week, and she knew next to nothing about what the hell was going on here. I beam to myself, excited to tell some of the others about why we’re not exactly living in our own shit here. Although I am angrier than ever with Sidyths. Particularly, Korben’s daddy.

“So, can I ask about you?”

Azan shifts, turning to look at me. “What do you want to know?” His voice turns colder.

“Uh, about your family?”

“Korben and Hujun? His Highness saved me—”

“No… I… uh… your family back home.” I’m sure I’m not imagining it, but Azan’s shutting down a bit.

“They do not view me as family anymore.” He shrugs, but I can tell it bothers him. “Mama and Papa have said Dolan will be welcome back, but if I were able to return home, I have already been told I am not welcome.”

“What? Why?” I can’t hide the disgust in my voice.

His expression contorts.

Fuck. Not again. The mask? The fangs? The poison?

Really?

I can’t help but snort.

“Your people are worse than I ever imagined.” He flinches, and I quickly amend my statement. “Present company excluded, of course.”

“Of course.”

I frown, allowing this bit of information to ruminate. It’s no wonder Azan wants a family so badly. He probably looked at others and wanted what they had growing up. I have horrible images of Azan being shunned by his parents simply for being alive and not able to get a mate. I imagine him being exiled, and his parents hugging Dolan but sneering at Azan, happy to be rid of him. His parents sound so awful, it wouldn’t surprise me if they wanted him exiled, so they wouldn’t have to deal with him.

More than ever, I want to give him everything he’s ever wanted.

I want to give him children. As many as it takes until he feels he has no more love left inside of him.

I want his children to be in love with him, just like I am because he deserves nothing less.

“Can I ask another question?” I ask softly, hoping not to offend him, but there is something bothering me.

“I told you. You can ask me anything you’d like.”

“Is it a coincidence there are only men here? Were you the only ones exiled?”

“No. Women were sent to another planet.”

“With no men?” I reason.

“Exactly,” Azan says before shuddering. “And no prince. No connections. No money. No nothing.”

“They were there sent to die?” I blanch at the thought of it.

“One of Prince Korben’s deliverers said they all died out within the first year.”

Sidyth women are cruel, but no one deserves to die like that; dropped on a deserted planet with no food or water or the chance to have it delivered.

“Damn,” I mutter. “How can someone do something so cruel?”

Azan shrugs. “It’s not as though Sidyth women are kind. They murdered fifteen of my brothers before they were boarded onto the autopiloting vessel for their exile.”

“Damn. Your women are strong, aren’t they?”

“They are physically strong, yes.” Another shrug. “But they are not kind.” He turns his attention towards me. “I prefer a combination of the two.”

“Physically strong and not kind?”

“I misspoke. I prefer a woman who is both strong and kind. Like you.”

I blush. How is this man real? If he lived on Earth, with humanoid features, of course, he would probably be one of the most desired men there. He’s tall and muscular. Strong and kind. Silent and sexy. He can cook. He wants to cook. He can make me come with a soft voice, and a hard thrust of his fingers. Plus, he wants a family. He wants a family because he didn’t get enough love from his family.

My heart flutters. There’s no mistaking it. My feelings haven’t come too fast.

If anything, loving him came too slowly.

“I hope my words have not caused you pain,” Azan says, making sure I’m okay. “My story is not flowery or beautiful, but I do not want to lie to you.”

“I wouldn’t want you to ever lie to me.”

His eyes crinkle in the corner. “I had a feeling you would say something like that. Do you… do you have any regrets yet?”

“Regrets? About what?”

“About me.”

“Azan,” I hiss, wrapping my arms around his neck and kiss the back of his head. He grunts in surprise but places one of his massive hands on my arms. “I regret nothing. In fact, I think I’ve fallen for you even more.”

“Fallen for me.” He swallows. “This is a human term, yes? For caring for someone else?”

“For falling in love, you idiot.” I’m unable to suppress the teasing tone in my voice.

He doesn’t answer, but I feel the happiness in his relaxed shoulders.

After a few hours, there’s so much I want to tell the others, but I hate the idea of leaving Azan alone. If I leave him, will he dive back into the deep thoughts in his mind and convince himself I’ll never be able to love him? I can’t let that happen. So as much as I want to talk to the others, I stay, nuzzled into his chest and arms, and twice, we go down to the food prep room and back again. There’re many eyes on us, interested but not brave enough to ask either of us a question.

Being left alone makes me giddy like an idiot most of the evening. Right until it starts to feel late again, and I hear the familiar pitter patter above.

“It’s raining,” I say to Azan who’s starting to remove his mask. His chin turns up towards the ceiling, and then he turns to look at me, securing it back into place.

“Would you like to sleep outside?”

“It’s… didn’t you hear me? It’s raining, Azan.”

“My question remains. Would you like to sleep in the rain tonight?”

Geezus, why does that question turn me on so much? I slip my hand into Azan’s offered one, and he pulls me into a standing position.

“Azan, warm or not, I don’t think I’ll actually be able to sleep in the rain.”

“Trust me,” he says thickly, a hard-on appearing between his legs. “You will be fine.”

I shiver, resisting the urge to hold his dick instead of his hand.

Oh yes, I think he’s right.