Page 84 of 20% Stud 80% Muffin
Makir’s undulations stopped, and he grasped my shoulders in a grip so firm it would bruise. He buried his face in my neck, and his reedy whine triggered my release. I sank deeper into the couch, pulling Makir even tighter to me as I released into him over and over, washing his womb with my cum. “Jesus Christ, that’s good.”
We dozed in our post-lust haze, the tether loose and sated between us, the urgency gone. The bond leaped like a child skipping down the sidewalk. Much too soon, my lock released, and a gush of our combined fluids forced my softened cock out.
“Oh, goddess Sola, that’s a mess.” Makir’s head dipped, mortified. “But I feel so much better now.” He kissed me on the cheek, shy and vulnerable.
His smile lit me up inside as if I’d won every prize at a carnival.
“Blant. Are we on my father’s shuttle?” He scanned the shuttle’s cabin and hopped off my lap, and I followed to where he opened a concealed bathroom door and ran a towel under the water. He wiped me down, not making eye contact, rinsed out the towel and then wiped himself clean. “You were supposed to stay on Tern.” He admonished me halfheartedly, then pulled a comb out from a cabinet and quickly unsnarled his mane. His fingers trembled as he attempted a braid.
“Here, let me.” I smoothed my fingers through his long mane. “I’m not about to let you face your parents alone.” The alpha need to protect and control had dulled to a simmer for now, until the next wave of his mating frenzy would take over, but the need to care for him dominated my mind.
I sifted my fingers through his tangle-free locks, massaging his scalp and pulling a deep moan from him. Then I spun him around and bound his soft hair into a tight French braid.
I was thankful for the horrific show Ginger had been contracted to work on. There had been so many elaborate braids required to complement her costumes that I’d learned how to French braid so she didn’t have to panic about it any longer.
I kissed his shoulder, admiring our reflection in the bathroom mirror. “You’re beautiful.”
Makir’s shy eyes dipped away from me.
“Hey now, look at me, Makir,” I rumbled softly.
The ship banked, preparing for descent.
My eyes sought Makir’s. “Shit, how long do we have?”
“Not long enough. It will never be long enough. We must have gone through a worm hole to get through the Reiner System so quickly. We should have had more time.” His frantic hands opened another concealed door, searching for something before he sighed in relief. “Thank you, Bonic.” He kissed his knuckle—a gestureof thanks, I presumed—as he pulled out two formal-looking uniforms and pairs of high boots, passing one to me.
He pressed the stiff maroon fabric to my chest. “Quick, get dressed, and we might make it through this nightmare.”
I was lacing my boots when the shuttle’s landing gear descended.
“Here, let me see.” Makir pulled me to standing, tucked a long swath of fabric around my back and knotted it before he wound a sash around my neck and over my shoulder. He patted my chest and stepped back to admire his handiwork. “Now, aren’t you a handsome sight?”
Makir in his hovic jumpsuit full of grease was adorable, and Makir in a swimsuit was mind-melting, but the Makir that stood before me at this moment was every bit the High Lord Tuniga.
My heart swelled with pride that a man this kind and capable could be mine. He stood taller, more regal. His braided hair threw his cheekbones into sharp relief. The same beast insignia as on the shuttle marked his left shoulder above a long sleeve of badges. Surely they stood for all the outstanding accomplishments he had achieved on Lorne. I vowed to learn the meaning behind every single one of them.
We stood side by side, fingers laced, as the cockpit opened and the shuttle’s exit door unlatched.
Tunt marched by us and engaged the mechanism to lower the ramp. “It reeks of sex in here.” He tapped out a com on his wristport before the door had swooshed all the way open. “You did not heed my warning, human. The regents will hear of this.”
“Do what you need to. I have nothing to hide.” My eyes fixed on Tunt as Makir adjusted the sash crisscrossing my chest and beamed at me.
Wen, more reasonable since he had donned the facemask unmated alphas wore around omegas in heat, bowed to Makir and shook my hand before departing. “Congratulations, Lord Tuniga. I wish you and your mate the best.”
Pheromones poured from me as I tried to ease Makir.
“Stop it.” He swatted at me, purring, “You’re going to trigger my next wave. We need to find a safe place for the next couple of days. My parents will be furious. Geo, please brace yourself.”
“Hey…” I turned him to face me, pulling his lips down to mine and brushing over them. “No matter what happens, remember we can do anything as long as we do it together.” Makir’s lavender eyes sparkled, and the shared certainty of our near-complete union fused our tether into unbreakable steel.
28
United, Geo and Idisembarked, my leaden feet rattling on the ramp’s metal grate. Wind howled against the domed windows of the arrival’s hangar, and lyre tree leaves the color of Geo’s bruises slapped the roof angrily. The residents of the capital city, Navra, should’ve been tucked in their dwellings out of the storm. Instead, nearly all of Lorne stood gathered, awaiting their wayward lord.
Jast and Bonic were unsurprisingly absent, but my parents stood front and center, flanked on either side by their personal guards, minus Tunt, who stormed ahead of us on the ramp. A host of advisers fanned out behindthe guards.
The thin thread of sanity I hung on to stretched taut and threatened to break as I struggled through each minute of fanfare. I glanced at Geo. “Here we go.”
