I left Helix with Ragal, feeling a little buzzed and a lot turned on. Dancing wasn’t something that I did often—it happened even less often than going out in general. I felt like I was being lured, drawn from one exhilaration to the next. It was electrifying and I wanted more.

Ragal was still a virtual stranger, and the night had played out like a delicious sort of dream, at least so far. Guessing from the way his large, firm hands had felt on my hips, from the intense, eager way he had looked at me while we danced, I had a feeling it was just the sort of dream I’d been craving, even if I hadn’t acknowledged it.

We exited the building and walked the block back to the LCC building, where his hoverbike waited. It was a sleek, black LCC Wyvern 31-C. It was an unassuming vehicle visually, but a shrewd choice for speed and maneuverability.

He climbed on and I enthusiastically followed him, gripping the passenger handholds on either side of his thighs, my chest pressed to his warm back. The bike hummed to life and we headed out through the city.

He was staying in the Scandium, a posh hospitality center with luxury quarters for rent. It was on the far side of the city, and we had to weave through several sections that were bustling with the typical nightlife.

Ragal’s piloting techniques shocked me. Even I didn’t fly through the city at those speeds, and I knew my way around an aircraft, having piloted in the militia for several years before taking over for my father, after which I still flew as a test pilot on occasion.

He moved adeptly, like some kind of savant. It was as if he was able to see the vehicles around us and predict their paths, expertly weaving around obstacles. I probably should have been terrified, but instead I just felt giddily thrilled. He was clearly in total control. A rush of adrenaline pumped through my veins as I held fast to him and we zipped through traffic.

By the time we arrived at the Scandium, I wasn’t sure if I was more aroused by his stormy good looks or his daredevil flying skills. He parked the bike in a verti-stall outside his quarters.

Climbing off the bike and onto the stall platform, he reached out and helped me off the bike. His hands on my arms steadied me and his grip sent a rush of physical awareness through me.

I looked down at his hands on my arms and then back up at him, nervous but determined to enjoy this whirlwind of an evening. Our eyes met, even as wisps of my hair flew across my face. I had the feeling of being caught, ensnared by this darkly exotic mystery man. I leaned in and so did he. He glanced at my lips and I instinctively wet them, feeling my skin grow hot.

“Welcome back to the Scandium, and thank you for choosing a Vapor Group affiliate. We hope you enjoy your stay in Steel City. For a list of services available from your chambers, please EE the concierge or press the blue button located on the table beside your sleep accommodations. Have a wonderful evening.”

The smooth, automated voice from the speakers above interrupted us, and Ragal smiled, taking my hand as we followed the walkway to the reflective glass wall. Ragal pressed his hand against one side and the glass pane slid open, revealing a small but well-appointed antechamber.

The glass door closed behind us and he strode directly to another panel on the wall. A moment later, music started playing through hidden speakers all over the room. It was low, a little gritty, and sensual sounding.

“This is my first visit to Steel City. From what I have seen of the rest of Vaxivia, Steel City has done quite well for itself. The accommodations are certainly superior.”

I laughed, suddenly feeling a little nervous now that we were alone.

“Yes, outside Steel City, the planet is a bit more rugged. I think there is a beauty, certainly, to life in the more remote areas of our planet, but I fear my attention needs a good deal of stimulation for me to feel satisfied.”

“In that case, I will endeavor to keep your attention stimulated,” he said.

I wasn’t quite used to such blatant flirtation and smiled, looking back at the wall of glass. The skyline of Steel City glittered, and I watched the twinkling lights of traffic webbing through its streets.

“Your chambers are quite nice—you must do well for yourself in the salvage business,” I said, knowing that the Scandium rates were some of the highest in the city.

“I’ll admit, I enjoy the finer things in life. I have, in some ways, been very privileged,” he said, then paused, searching for words. “I was raised in an environment not so different from yours.”

An odd statement, considering Narsis was not known for its material wealth. Of course, I had never been to Narsis, personally.

“What is Narsis like? I’ve never been, though I’ve heard it’s quite pastoral and pleasant.”

He hesitated to answer. “Yes, it is quite beautiful. We have cities as well, of course, but outside of the cities, there is an abundance of rolling, lush countryside. As you know, we’re known for our… farming, so there is that. I have many fond memories of flying, as a child, out over the great valley of my childhood home,” he said, sounding a bit wistful.

“How old were you when you left? If that’s not too intrusive…” I asked, keen to hear more, to flesh out the mystery behind the gorgeous man before me.

“My family and I… we parted ways when I came of age, you might say.”

I suddenly felt like an idiot for prying. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy.”

“It’s all right. Would you care for a drink?” he asked, going behind a small counter on the far side of the chamber. “I don’t have any Gindaxian delicacies back here. My deepest apologies.”

I giggled and then instantly kicked myself for sounding so unsophisticated. A man like Ragal, cosmopolitan and impossibly cool, was likely used to poised, worldly women who didn’t giggle.

Ordinarily, I liked to think of myself as composed and collected, but around him I felt like a bit of a bumpkin. I’d barely even left Vaxivia, having only traveled as far as the nearby asteroid field that figured heavily in our mining operations.

“I’m not picky as long as it’s not too sweet. I appreciate complex, rougher profiles.”

“Is that just in drinks or in other things, as well?” he teased.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I said, giving him a cheeky grin.

“Indeed, I would very much like to know what pleases the lady.” He smiled, and the wicked gleam in his eye brought heat to my skin and made me feel just a little bold.

Ragal handed me a stout glass containing an amber liquor. I looked back at him, letting a little lust into my voice as I raised my glass.

“To pleasure,” I said quietly.

“Mmm, to pleasure, indeed,” he returned.

We both took a sip and I reveled in the delicate, faint burn that warmed me, starting with my lips. I savored the complex flavor and closed my eyes, enjoying the faint spice and character of the spirit.

Opening my eyes, I saw him watching me. The smile was gone and replaced by an expression of raw desire. In slow motion, we moved toward one another, seeking each other through a haze of lust and sensual awareness.

His hand came to my cheek and he paused, looking at me through heavy-lidded eyes, giving me a chance to refuse him. The naked fire between us drew me in and I surrendered to the drive of my own desire.

Our mouths met softly at first. The electricity of that first contact sizzled in the air between us. We were leaning over the polished stone counter toward one another, the cold, hard surface separating our bodies.

What started as a sizzle soon became an electrical storm. The growing hunger consumed us as we discovered each other.

We skirted along the counter until our bodies finally met and rejoiced at the contact. I felt my own reaction as much as his. Playfully, he scooped me into his arms and made his way to a plush settee.

I giggled again, this time not caring if I sounded girlish. He drew me onto his lap and I sat against the warm, firm lines of his body. One hand drew flush against my lower back while the other stroked the exposed length of my thigh.

I had been dressed for business in a tight black skirt suit. It felt constricting now, and I pulled back to peel off my blazer jacket. It was only half buttoned from when I had thrown it back on when we left Helix, but I saw him watch with interest as I freed myself from it.

A rush of sensual power washed over me as he appeared transfixed, and I slowed down, enjoying the control.

I liked to be put together, took pride in comporting myself with well-groomed taste, and I relished the mantle of power I felt from a killer power suit. But right now, I wanted to revel in the feeling of shedding all that. Of standing before him in my skin, free of my status, free of the Lord-Case brand, and having that be enough.

It had been hard for me to accept, when my father’s company exploded into monolithic proportions, that every relationship, from friends to boyfriends to teachers and coworkers, would always be tainted and influenced by my position.

When Ragal looked at me, I had the sense that he was seeing beneath that veneer. Maybe it was silly, maybe it was the drinks, maybe I just needed to believe someone would look at me for me and nothing else, but it was glorious.

I was down to my silk camisole and my fitted pencil skirt, which had worked its way upward. He stared at the bare skin of my shoulders, then stroked it with rough fingers, sending chills of awareness through me.

Suddenly our mouths collided again, only this time it was with abandon. His hand rose to my waist, finding the hem of my blouse that had come loose, and worked its way up my ribcage. A thrill of sensation hit me when his hand cupped my breast and caressed it.

I inhaled sharply and broke our kiss to revel in the feel of his hands on me. I relaxed against the strength of him and felt his mouth on my neck, hot, wet, and greedy. I sighed at the sensation of him feasting upon my body and the clear reaction of his body beneath me.

There was no disguising the firm bulge I felt beneath my lap, a tantalizing pressure that I wanted to explore. I shifted off his lap and stood before him, smiling coyly.

I lifted my camisole slowly, my chest naked beneath it. The fabric caught at my breasts and I tugged just slightly, feeling myself bounce at the release, before I pulled it over my head and shook out my hair. The way he looked at me, with such fierce need, startled and aroused me and I took a step back toward his sleeping chamber.

He stood and followed, coming up to me and taking my mouth in a plundering kiss. He walked me backward until I felt the cool, smooth wall behind me.

Lacing his fingers with mine, he raised my hands above my head, pinning me to the wall as he kissed my chest. I trembled from the stroking movements of his tongue, overcome by the sight of his towering form worshipping my body.

I braced my hands on his shoulders and felt the strong, lean muscles. Raking my fingers through his loose, thick hair, I breathed in the faint smell of his cologne.

His hands found their way to my lower back and then dipped lower, palming my rear and anchoring me snugly against him as he lifted me off the floor.

I was amazed by his strength. I had a tall, athletic build. I was not the sort of delicate that enabled most men to lift me, to be carried around with apparent ease. I had always felt a little gangly and awkward, too big, even though I had never been overweight.

In Ragal’s arms, I felt weightless. He was much taller than me, and it was an exquisite, unfamiliar experience—to feel small around a man. As he lifted me without expending any apparent effort, I let my legs twine around his waist.

My skirt had hitched and was nothing more than a bulk of fabric at my waist. Beneath it was a thin layer of pale pink lace, through which I felt the distinct, hard pressure of his arousal.

He carried me into the sleeping chamber and we tumbled onto a sprawling bed. He stood back up, ripping his clothes off, and I slipped free of my skirt and panties, scooting up the bed in the process.

He crawled onto the foot of the bed, the faint, ambient light caressing his nude body to full, glorious effect. Seeing him in all his naked splendor, I was in awe. Manhood at attention, he was far larger and thicker than anyone I had ever been with before.

Finally, he reached me and I felt the hot weight of him above me as he looked down at my own naked form.

“You’re exquisite,” he said simply as he lowered his head to my neck.

I sighed, lightheaded. “God, you’re like every hot dream I’ve ever had, come to life.”

He chuckled. “How did those dreams end?”

Feeling plucky, I reached down and wrapped my hand around his length. “I’ll let you know when we get there.”

He throbbed in my hand and inhaled, hissing at the sensation. He caught my forearm and brought it to his mouth, kissing the sensitive inside of my wrist.

“Well then, let’s take our time getting there, shall we?” he said, his voice rich and sexy.

He took my mouth again, lowering his body to mine. His skin pressed against my own and I felt sensation coiling within me, wet heat pooling at my entrance. Suddenly, his long fingers were there, fondling me.

I threw my head back and gasped at the swell of sensation. As I did, his kisses meandered lower and lower, until he was at my center, tracing me with his tongue, lapping and suckling, as shivers wracked my body. I was so sensitive, every stroke of his tongue sent spikes of pleasure through me.

His tongue dipped into the core of me and stroked, and it felt like my vision shattered. As I cried out, moaning, I felt the slick glide of him entering me.

Ragal stayed there, filling me for a moment, letting my muscles relax as I came back down from the peak. His eyes locked on mine, and for a moment I felt captive, enthralled by the magic of what was happening.

And then he moved. Slow, long strokes that had my muscles tightening once more. I felt heavy with the fullness of him within me.

He rose from his forearms and brought my legs up and set them on his shoulders, as he thrust deeper, gripping my thighs. My breasts heaved and bounced with each stroke, and the sight clearly delighted him as he began penetrating me faster, harder.

I felt like a wanton sex goddess, writhing in pleasure beneath him. Knowing he was watching, I brought my hands to my breasts and massaged. The sensation thrilled me and his groan suggested his own enjoyment.

I felt pleasure contracting within me, tighter than before, somehow sweeter as he lowered a hand back to the sensitive mound of my womanhood, circling the swollen bud.

It was almost too much and yet I needed more. I wanted to be ravaged by him, to see him crazed with passion, to be driven to madness with him. My emotions felt so primal, so intense, I felt like predator and prey rolled into one mass, needing to both be dominated and consumed and wanting to do the same to him.

Shocks of hair fell in front of his beautifully chiseled face, but his eyes, dark and hot with passion, found mine. There was a moment of unbelievable connection, and the power of it ricocheted through my body and drew back to the place where our bodies connected.

It didn’t seem possible but, in that moment, he seemed to fill me even more, to strain the limits of my pleasure before we both erupted. Our voices sounded hoarse as they mated in the air around us.

My body convulsed in happy agony, the muscles of my center gripping at him, draining him, and taking sensation in return. My eyelids fluttered as the release undulated through my body, and I saw the tension in his muscles as he was lost in passion too.

He fell to his forearms, my legs dropping to his waist as we stayed interlocked, still trapped by our pleasure. He pressed his cheek to my breasts, and I cradled him as the tide washed over me.

Every time I thought it might ebb away, I became aware again of the throbbing presence of him within me, feeling myself tighten at the glorious invasion. I was awash in pleasure anew, bringing him with me as we embraced.

We lay together, coiled like some kind of serpentine creature lost to time and space. Eventually, the feeling started to ease. I realized my eyes had been squeezed shut against the lightning that had speared through us. I opened them and my vision was blurry. I raised a hand to my eye and felt a wetness that was entirely unfamiliar.

I hadn’t been aware of any tears, but I had been so overcome, frankly anything was possible. I felt drugged with pleasure and emotion. The thought startled me.

I had only just met him and yet I had just experienced the most intense sexual experience of my life.

He lifted his head and wordlessly searched my eyes. He looked as lost and startled as me—it felt like we were drowning in the intimacy of each other. He kissed me with such fervor it was as if his life depended on it, and it somehow felt like it did.

I felt suddenly, shockingly needed. Not Tasha Lord-Case, heiress, head of the massive Lord-Case Company and the many branches of its subsidiaries. Just me—Tasha.

It scared me a little, my own need matching his and how desperately I felt myself clinging to him. We might be barreling toward some horrible disaster, but I couldn’t let go.