11
Epilogue
—
Almost a year of fatherhood had taught Kess many lessons and revealed many truths.
One of his most important discoveries: there was nothing more satisfying than the sound of his son’s laughter.
Holding Aeten in one hand, he used the other to guide the stones in the water telekinetically through the observatory’s glass.
The sleek, black fish chasing the stones revelled in the game and the attention as it executed various flips and twirls, much to Aeten’s amusement. His bright blue eyes shiny with interest, Aeten gurgled his enjoyment as he slapped the glass with his plump, tiny palm.
“Using your powers for evil, I see,” teased Karen, drawing up beside him. Aeten swivelled his head in her direction. He attempted to reach for her until he was distracted by the fish and promptly returned to slapping the glass. Karen scoffed in mock indignation. “I can’t believe I was chosen over a fish!”
Kess chuckled. “Fala’s charm is hard to resist.”
“Wait a minute, you named it?”
“Of course. Giving an animal a name denotes possession.”
Karen snorted. “So, what you’re admitting here, o mighty, tough-as-nails, Commander, is that you own a pet fish? One that you’ve trained to do tricks?”
“Yes, and if you breathe a word of it to anyone…” He leaned toward her, lowering his voice. “I will punish you.”
Her cheeks flushed with colour and it never ceased to amaze him how quickly she responded to him.
“That threat might have worked if I didn’t enjoy your brand of punishment,” she said, her lips curved in a seductive smile.
Aeten yawned and flopped his head against Kess’ chest. His eyelids drooped in a tell-tale sign of sleepiness. Kess embraced his son, relishing the feel of his small body snuggling against him with complete trust.
He regarded Karen. She was the reason why he could enjoy this moment. She’d given him the gift of life and a son he loved with terrifying fierceness. Not for the first time, words of gratitude hung on his lips but he held himself back. He preferred to show her how much she meant to him.
He carried Aeten to the crib, Karen following him.
“You’re so good with him,” she said softly, caressing Aeten’s head as he slept. “I think you’re beating me at this parenting gig.” She smiled. “But I still have an advantage. Two advantages.”
“What are they?” Kess asked, amused.
She cupped her breasts and grinned. “These. He might be weaned, but Aeten is still their biggest fan.”
“You are mistaken,” he said, pulling her from Aeten’s room to theirs. He slipped her dress straps down her arms as he covered her lips with an urgent kiss. “I am your body’s most devoted servant.”
She stepped free from her dress as it pooled to the floor and hummed in satisfaction as their kiss deepened. He freed her breasts from the ghastly contraption of hooks and bands with which she often confined them—despite his frequent request she burn them all—and fondled her flesh.
He swallowed her moan as he pinched her nipples, groaning when her hand palmed his hard length.
“Gods, woman,” he rasped, dragging kisses down her neck. “I want to be inside you.”
“Then take off your clothes and fuck me, Kess.”
She issued her command in a breathy voice, her hands already set to the task of removing his clothing. Then he lifted her and deposited her on top of their bed, climbing atop her to resume their kiss.
Her passion matched his, fervent and hungry. He groaned when her hand encircled him, squeezed him, jerked him with an expertise she’d acquired from their many, many encounters. She’d learned his body just as he’d learned hers. Yet every new moment they shared with each other felt fresh and exciting.
Kess pulled away from her, scooting back to trail his hands reverently down her creamy, supple skin. He hooked his fingers into the sides of the other useless article of clothing she insisted on wearing and dragged them from her, revealing her glistening centre to his hungry gaze.
“So beautiful,” Kess murmured, stunned that he was so fortunate to have her as his mate. She smiled shyly but her eyes were dark with desire… desire for him.
He rolled onto his side to lie beside her, cupping her face to claim her mouth in another kiss. She skimmed her fingers along his cheek, moaning as his tongue touched and tasted hers. Kess took great pleasure in the way she trembled as he slid his hand past her stomach to cup between her legs.
“Open for me, Karen,” he growled. She did as he ordered, spreading her legs so his fingers could dip into her wetness. He inhaled sharply at the evidence of her arousal for him, attacking her mouth with his as he pushed his fingers into her.
She whimpered, squirming. He slipped his fingers from her and brought them to his lips to taste her sweetness. He delved his hands between her legs again to rub her engorged, fleshy bud. She moaned, tossing her head, gripping his shoulders as she bore down on his hand.
Kess rubbed her with even, insistent strokes. He watched her closely, intent on immortalizing the sight of her finding pleasure on his hands in his mind. He was painfully hard and desperate to be inside her. Withdrawing his hand, he climbed atop her again, resting between her legs.
“Yes… finally,” she said and Kess laughed at her impatient tone.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and begged for his cock.
“Is this what you want?” He thrust into her hard and deep with a satisfied grunt.
“Oh god.” She arched her back, her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. “Again. Do it again.”
How could someone who appeared so sweet and pure possess such a filthy tongue? He raised himself up to push her thighs back, spreading her open to him. He plunged into her with deep, quick strokes as she reached between them to touch herself. Kess fixated his gaze on her hand, incredibly aroused by the sight of her touching herself as his cock speared her.
Kess groaned and swore beneath his breath as her wet heat clamped around him. He lowered himself to savour her warmth and soft flesh against his skin. He missed her with every retreat, triumphant with every cry from her lips as he filled her.
“Kess… Kess…” she pleaded without needing to say the words. He quickened his pace and she swept her fingernails down his back. She shivered, his name mixed in with her moans of pleasure as she found release. The feel of her constricting him was Kess’ undoing. His moans combined with hers as he came inside her, her wet heat squeezing every last drop from him.
In the blissful aftermath, he cupped her cheek and smoothed his thumb over her lips.
“I love you,” he said softly.
She opened her eyes, the brilliant, glittering silvery blue she’d passed onto their son stared into his soul and held him hostage.
“I love you too.”
He kissed her deeply, soulfully, pouring everything he felt for her into the kiss. This amazing, beautiful, selfless human woman was his saviour, his wife, his mate.
She possessed him as much as she was his.
Forever.
—
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Preview: Out of this World
Call me crazy but waking up to a green-haired woman grinning in your face is not the best start to the morning.
“What the f—”
“Greetings, Rosalind Fry! I’ve brought great news! You’ve been matched!”
She claps her hands together and glitter falls from out of nowhere all over my face.
“Ow, ow, ow!” I sit up and spit out glitter, rubbing the rest of it out of my eyes. “Who the hell are you? Get out of my room! Get out of my apartment!”
She doesn’t move, her grin does not waver. Her eyes are wide and sparkling. There’s a disturbing unhinged look lurking in their jade depths.
“I’m Leeka, your matchmaker in love. I’m here to congratulate you on your extraordinary match!” She snaps her fingers together and a translucent tablet appears in her hand.
She attempts to show me the tablet’s screen. I glimpse a man’s face as I bat her hand away and push to my feet. Even though my older brother, Paul, calls me ‘little Fry’ because I’m short, I’ve got at least a head on this pixie.
I muster up the toughest voice I can summon. “Look, lady. Get outta my place right now or I’m calling the Enforcers.”
When she still doesn’t move, I make a run for it. There’s only one distress button in my apartment than the mandated three. As expected when you live in the shittiest quadrant on Zenovas 9. It’s literally the shittiest since Quadrant 4—or Poopapalooza Plaza as Paul calls it—is home base for the garbage dumps and sewer relief from Quadrants 1 to 3. Not to mention, the Overseer of this rust bucket complex is a cheap ass.
The distress button is supposed to be located in a place you won’t accidentally press it. Usually some place inconvenient and hard to get to. Which, in my opinion, defeats the purpose of a distress button in the first place. After all, you only ever need it in moments of emergency. Therefore, the absolute last thing you want to be doing in an emergency is squeezing yourself into your tiny kitchen cupboard for a button tucked under the sink.
Because you know what can happen? You can get yanked out of that cupboard by the back of your shirt by a demon pixie with supernatural strength.
“Eughgh!” comes out of my mouth as the front of my shirt tightens around my throat. My bare thighs squeak against the floor as I’m dragged backward. I put up a fight by squirming and slapping my hands behind me. But, like I said, green-haired girl has some major galactic weight champion strength in her slim arms.
“You’re coming with me!” Leeka shouts just before a bright light envelops us. I scream but I can’t hear myself. For a few moments I’m weightless and can’t see squat. Then I’m falling and I’m screaming, flapping my arms in a futile effort to grab onto something. I’ve always wanted the ability to fly, but this is not what I had in mind! Oh shit, I’m gonna die! I’m gonna die! I’m gonna…
“…diiiieeee—”
“Oh, shut up and stop being so dramatic. You’re already here.”
My eyes spring open. I’m face down and spread-eagled on a black marble floor. It’s so shiny, I can see the extra frizz my auburn hair has acquired and my crazed, terrified reflection staring right back at me.
I snap my head up to find a scowl on Leeka’s face, her arms folded across her chest. I’m about to let loose a ton of expletives at her when a man marches into the room.
What. The. Shit.
It’s Garan Dross. One of the wealthiest men in the galaxy. Also the creator of the Vis S215 series—the fastest ships in the universe and, grudgingly, my ultimate wet dream made real in sexy, reinforced Rurium steel. Most importantly, he’s at the top of Rosie Fry’s, ‘Aliens I’d Like to Murder In Their Sleep’ Shit List.
Rich and fricking hot as the sun on Venus, Garan Dross is every bipedal female’s—and also those with extra limbs—fantasy come alive. Well, except mine. Especially not after what he did to me. Articles all over the InterGalNet wax poetic on his stunning amber eyes, his gorgeous dark hair streaked with gold and how the small black horns protruding from his forehead not only reminds us of his impressive Rur dragon ancestry, but adds to his dangerous yet sexy charm.
Wanna know what I see whenever I look at his—admittedly handsome—mug? A thieving ass.
His gaze falls on me and instant recognition alights in his amber eyes before he hides it behind a scowl. Huh. After all these years, he still remembers me.
“Your underwear is showing, human, and they’re not particularly flattering,” he says, his tone in sync with his unimpressed features. “How did you get into my quarters?”
Right. Ekran species can’t change the number of tentacles on their bodies as Garan Dross can’t change his assholish ways.
Face flaming, I scramble to my feet and tug on the hem of the shirt I slept in the night before. It barely grazes the tops of my thighs. This is all Leeka’s fault. She’s the reason why I’m standing half-dressed in front of Garan Dross in a ratty shirt and unsexy panties as his piercing gaze judges me and finds me wanting.
“Instead of whining about it, why don’t you find something else to look at?”
I raise my chin and stare him down even though my confidence has already taken a big hit. Who cares what he thinks about me, anyway? I don’t exist in his world and he doesn’t mine. Not anymore. Not after he screwed me over. But I can’t keep it up. I cow and look away, pretending to survey my surroundings.
Everything gleams in this apartment. From the glass walls overlooking the city far below, to the shiny surfaces. A cleaning bot comes by with an efficient whir as it buffs away the smudge my face made on the floor.
“Why am I here?” I demand, glaring between the two of them. Mostly at Leeka, though, because I still don’t have the courage to look directly at Garan after he’s seen my ginormous panties.
“The better question is how you got in here without my alarms going off,” he says, frowning. “But I don’t care enough. You both need to leave. Now.”
“Not yet,” says Leeka in matter of fact tones. She smooths her hands down her front and for the first time I notice her businesslike pantsuit. “As I was trying to say before you interrupted me with your histrionics, Rosalind Fry—I am a representative from the Celestial Mates dating agency, and I’m here to congratulate you on your extraordinary 97.23 percent match with your fated mate…” Her megawatt smile returns in blinding force as she gestures at Garan. “…Garan Dross.”
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