The Uncertain Scientist (The Lost Planet 4)
The taste of goldenroot candies is heavy on my tongue. I lick along flesh and find skin that tastes just as sweet.
I want more.
My hands reach and find a warm, heavy weight above me. Long hair floats around us like a curtain. My fingers comb through the strands as a mouth finds mine and drinks deeply. A moan fills my throat as I taste sweetness a thousand times more satisfying than the candy.
The hand caressing my body strokes down the length of my rib cage. Down my stomach and reaches the notch between my thighs. Lightning zings through my body and I peer up at the body above me and find Sayer’s dark eyes shining back at me.
I heave myself upright, sweat coating my skin, my body still responding to the ghost of his touch.
I thought after leaving Avrell’s office I could take a cold shower and get some sleep to help wash away the remnants of lust.
Apparently, I’d thought wrong.
My body trembles, wanting. I try to tell myself this feeling, this need, will go away, but as the seconds tic into minutes, the wanting only grows worse. There’s an ache, an emptiness inside of me, begging to be filled.
I don’t want Sayer, I don’t.
But my body does.
6
Sayer
“I can resist,” I assure Jareth.
He scowls, his nostrils flaring. “At what cost?”
I pace in front of the window in my room, ripping at the hair on my nog. Truth is, I don’t think I can resist. The urge to see Grace and…do I don’t know what…is overwhelming. I rekking dream about her now! I hate that this pregnancy is literally ripping me from my mate.
But the mortling…
With each solar that passes, my heart thrums with pride. I want to raise this mortling to be strong and wise and revered. And something inside me itches to convince Grace we could do it together. She says she doesn’t want the life growing inside her, but if she’d give me a chance, I feel like I could show her how important it is—to make her see how wonderful it could be.
And Jareth?
It’s easy to get caught up in this firestorm that is Grace and the pregnancy, but all it takes is one look from Jareth to pull me back into our world. Our world is safe and comfortable and loving. It’s familiar. I’m confused at the warring emotions inside of me. Avrell says it’s to be expected. My pull toward Grace is a physiological consequence to her carrying my mortling.
Grace.
Grace.
Grace.
I can almost scent her. My mouth waters. Claws pierce my flesh as I fist my hands, overcome with the need to sink my cock into her. She carries my young. Fierce male pride washes over me and a guttural growl escapes me.
Grace.
Grace.
Grace.
I’m thirsty. Rekking ravenous for her. I want to shred her clothes and claim her over and over again.
Now.
I’ll do it now.
Swiveling, I ram right into a wall. No, not a wall. I blink, blink, blink away the feral daze and find myself staring into sad black eyes.
“Sayer,” the voice says, reaching up to touch my cheek.
My sub-bones start cracking. I’ll destroy the one who steps between me and my mate. He flinches at the sounds coming from me.
Mate.
Grace.
My mate.
“Sayer,” the voice growls, fiercer this time. “Focus.”
He leans forward, running his forked tongue along the column of my throat. The haze fades as reality finds me. My mate stands before me. Aching and lonely and sad.
I’m a monster.
Rekk!
A choked sound escapes me. Before I can let the guilt consume me, he pounces. His mouth attacks mine, hungry and needy. Nipping and licking and sucking. My cock has been hard for what feels like days and now it seeps with need.
“Want me to relax you?” he asks, his voice low and seductive. It cuts through the maddening desire to bed Grace.
“P-Please,” I beg. My throat is hoarse.
He wastes no time ripping through my clothes in the same way I envisioned ripping through Grace’s. When we’re both naked and panting, like two starved animals salivating over one piece of meat, clarity seems to finally find me.
He’s mine.
All mine.
I can’t let this chemical response to the pregnancy destroy the love that’s grown between Jareth and me for many revolutions.
“I need this,” I croak out.
“I know,” he assures me. “Get into the bed, Say.”
I’ve barely crawled into it before he’s curled up behind me. His teeth nip at my bare shoulder and his cock ruts against my rump. He wraps his hand around my own cock and strokes me with urgency. The need to release is overwhelming. Our breaths come out heavily as he takes me to a place where I don’t have to think—a place where I can simply feel. Because of the state I’m in, it doesn’t take but a few pumps before I’m groaning. My cum jets up my stomach and all over his hand. Once I’m completely spent, he uses my semen to coat between my rump cheeks. His finger probes within my tight hole, causing me to hiss.