The Wanting (D'Shar Men) (9 page)

“It’s not you who needs to change,” she whispered. The swift change in her demeanor was an icy cold shock to his system. “I’ve floated down the river of denial long enough. I know better than most that ignorance is not bliss, and I’m ready to do my part to make this…transitional period easier on us both.”

Chapter Seven

Present

The agreement had been a turning point in their relationship. Zasha had begun to open up and immerse herself further into his traditions; and he’d sensed a Shar mating celebration around the corner, until now.

“It could be all night before they get this evidence out of here. I want you to go get checked out,” Richards said. His muscular arms crossed over his chest as he ignored Zasha’s protest.

“We need to talk, Phelan.” Zasha’s voice was worn and tired as he entered his bedroom after the doctor exited. He nodded his head in agreement as he crossed the carpeted floor.

The woman who sat in the middle of his bed wrapped in blankets was not the one he knew. She looked tiny in the large bed, and an air of uncertainty clung to her. His legs folded beneath him as he came to rest on the edge of the bed beside her, unsure of what to say. Tavel violated the sanctity of her home, and he’d yet to hear of the horror she’d endured. The dark blue hue of the doctor’s face as he left the room spoke volumes.

“It doesn’t mean he’s telling the truth, Zasha. He’s a lunatic. He could’ve given you one of his strange concoctions as a child. It’d be just like him to tell you this to throw you off your game.”

His hand reached out to grab hers, and his body tensed as a flash of brilliant blue went off behind his lids. The sound of a rapid heartbeat echoed in his ears, and he cried out as a psychic connection was forged. The distinct black and white image that flickered in his mind conveyed an unmistakable message.

“You carry my seed!”

Fury seeped from his every pore as a blue energy crackled around him. His body quaked. His eyes bleed to black and his patience shattered.

****

With one look into his inhuman eyes her stomach dropped, dipped, and rolled like she was on a roller coaster. The time had finally come to cement the bond that would end the
Wanting
period. Her body vibrated with nervous energy as he sniffed the air and stalked towards her. Her nipples strained against the white T-shirt she’d pilfered from his dresser. Desire pooled low in her belly and leaked onto the black sheets below. Phelan gripped the edge of the comforter and sent it across the room with an impatient snarl.

“The sight of you in my clothes pleases me,” he said.

His obsidian eyes, full of approval, as he palmed her breast through the thin cotton, each achy globe lifted and weighed as if they were for sale. She mewled when his dark head bent down to suckle the breast he supported. His powerful jaw worked overtime as he went from one mound to the other. Each long draw felt connected to her cunt. Her walls fluttered and wept as he nursed at her breast through the cloth like he was in need of milk. His mouth released her and he spoke to her with cherry red swollen lips.

“Take the shirt off.”

It was a command not a request. The man who’d bent over backwards to accommodate her was gone. Her hands trembled as she peeled the shirt upward.

“Not so fast,” he said.

His hands lightning fast as he blocked the shirt’s accent up her body. She felt exposed, with her arms trapped close to the body that was bare from the waist down. Her hips bucked as a blue-tipped finger trailed from her waist down to her hipbone. The path he’d drawn was shimmery blue against her tawny skin and increased her desire. Phelan had warned her it would be like this. But she was still unprepared for the intense need that arched her back as she moved closer to the hands that hovered over her flesh.

Sweat had broken out on her skin. “Phelan,” she whispered. The tiny beads of moisture slid down her back and her face as her thighs rubbed together.

“Now you get a taste of what it is to be, Shar.”

He placed his fingers to her flesh again. The light show he created a masterpiece of torment as he drove into a mindless frenzy. The beautiful swirls of color on her skin mixed with the raw emotions they evoked took her to the edge of her orgasm and shoved her over. The walls of her pussy clamped down and nectar shot from her cunt, literally. Her creamy liquid spilled onto the sheets she clutched in her fingers, and her eyes locked onto his. In the middle of this turbulent storm, he was her anchor.

“Please,” she whispered. Her voice had grown hoarse and desperate as his persistent digits danced across the unexplored flesh of her inner thighs.

“Please, what?”

Her bound arms strained against the T-shirt. “Touch me, such me, fuck me, anything.” The wicked smirk that splayed across his lips was so loaded with devilment, she moaned.

“Anything?” he asked.

The gravel of his tone became a rough abrasion on her frayed nerves. Her silent nod of agreement was bathed in submission as she delivered herself into his capable hands. She broke eye contact to roll on her belly to assume the traditional mating position they’d discussed over the weeks. Anticipation, unlike any she had ever known, swept through her body. Her breath came in pants as she breathed into the sheets, and her ass tingled as his magical hands caressed it.

“As much as I like you bound, let’s free those arms so you can support yourself.”

The rush of cool air on her body made her suck in a deep breath. He had never used his power on her before. She liked it. Prone on all fours with her ass lifted up in the air, she tried to prepare herself for the invasion, both mental and physical. Tonight, they would see into each other’s soul.

When he spoke next, each syllable was forged from steel. “There will be no more secrets between us, Zasha.”

“I-I didn’t know.” She stuttered as he thrust a finger inside and stirred leisurely. Her hungry walls welcomed him with their suction and held him tight.

“I know. You’re many things, but a liar isn’t one of them,” he said. The finger he refused to move threatened her sanity, but she knew the rules. He was the musician tonight, and she the instrument he played.

“You’re being such a good girl.”

He rewarded her with a few more stirs before he began to move inside her. Slow even strokes that made her clutch the sheets and drive her hips back on to him.

“That’s it, Zash. Ride my fingers, baby.”

The sentence urged her on as her back arched, and her hips pumped faster. The pressure built up inside her until she exploded. Her creamy liquid doused the fingers that never ceased their movement.

His whispered, “Now you’re ready.” Before he removed his fingers and eased his cock inside her inch by inch. The length of him stretched her to max capacity as he went deep. Situated inside her as far as he could go, he rested his head on her shoulders.

“By the end of tonight, there will be no doubt that you belong to me.” His sharp teeth bite down on the nape of her neck as he pulled out and drove back in.

His mushroom-shaped head thrust so deep he brushed her cervix. The pain so good, she couldn’t stop the sobs that rose in her throat. Tears leaked from her eyes and rolled down her face as Sharian words sounded in hear ear. “Take it all, baby. That’s it.” The approval, she sensed, was a necessity as she strove to pleasure him. The foreign concepts that unfurled inside her like a flower had become too powerful to ignore. Thoughts of taking her place beside him as the matriarch of their people, memories of his childhood. Her cunt gripped him tight as an orgasm broke over her without warning. The convulsion of her body around him carried him over with her. Boneless, she slumped forward as he pulled free and rolled her on to her back.

“You should rest now because that was the first of many more.”

****

He knew the moment she woke, because the twinge of pain she experienced reached him through their bond. He grabbed the pain reliever his doctor had approved for his pregnant mate and walked the short distance to his bedroom.

“Relax, my Queen, the doctor gave me something to help you with the pain,” Phelan said as he stood in the doorway with a glass of lavender liquid.

“Queen,” she mouthed before shaking her head.

“How did you know I was awake?”

“I sensed you were in pain,” Phelan said. “The bond between us insures we’ll always know if the other is in danger among other things.”

He set the empty cup on the dresser next to him when she finished, and he slid beneath the covers beside her. The distress evident in her stiff countenance pierced his heart like an arrow. He hated to see her like this, so out of her element.

“H-how can you say that after what he did to your family and countless other people?” Her head lowered as the sense of shame spilled over into her voice.

“Tavel has taken enough from me. I won’t let him have this, too.”

His jaw clenched as he thought of the rogue alien. He wanted to watch the life ebb from his eyes as he chocked him to death. Upon capture, he would be handled according to the old laws. Treason was punishable by death, and the crimes he’d committed against humanity were so perverse it turned his stomach. To alter the genetic make up for a living being was unforgiveable. How many more were out there? What exactly had he done to them?

“What will the others say?”

“Others?” he said as he blinked. All thoughts of ways to dismember Tavel were pushed to the background as he focused in on his mate.

He removed his arm from her shoulder and cupped the side of her face with his hands as he turned to face her. His gentle kisses peppered her lips until the tension eased from her body and she began to respond. When they came up for air, he spoke.

“I know our start was unconventional, but this has become more than some biological response. You’re witty, intelligent, and strong. Any man would be lucky to have you, and I’m glad your mine.” He paused as his stomach clenched. “I love you, Zasha Johnson.”