Page 68 of Rogue Starfighter

“Then don’t stop.”

“I will not.”

He sucked my clit into his mouth. I came with his fingers deep inside me and his name echoing through the empty freighter. Vesh held me through every pulse. He did not slow until I pulled at his shoulders, insisted he move up my body. He kissed me. I tasted myself on his tongue and felt another wave of heat move through me.

“Your turn,” I said.

I pushed at his uniform. Vesh helped me strip it from his shoulders. I had seen the shape of him through clothing, felt his muscles beneath my hands. Bare skin was different. His chest and stomach were hard, scarred, and beautiful. A pale line crossed his ribs. Another cut over one shoulder. I traced both.

“Tavik?” I asked.

“The corridor.”

I kissed the scar. His body went still beneath my mouth.

“Priya.”

“I’m here.”

I kissed it again, then worked my way lower. Vesh stopped breathing when I opened the rest of his uniform. His cock sprang free. I wrapped my hand around him. His eyes closed.

“Priya.”

“Stop talking.”

I stroked him from base to tip. Thick. Hot. The skin impossibly smooth over all that rigid strength. A bead of moisture gathered at the head. I swept my thumb through it. Vesh groaned. The sound went straight through the bond. I leaned closer and ran my tongue over the tip. His hand went into my hair.

“If you put your mouth on me,” he said, voice rough, “I will not last.”

“Maybe I want to see you lose control.”

For a moment, I simply held him in my hand and watched the discipline leave his face one hard-won piece at a time. Vesh had crossed a galaxy, fought an army, and kept himself locked behind armor so thick I had started to believe nothing could reach him. But this reached him. My touch. My breath. The fact that I was looking at him like he was not a weapon or a duty, but mine. His eyes closed, and the low sound he made was so raw it went straight through me.

I wanted to give him everything he had given me, to take him apart with the same patient devotion. More than that, I wanted him to understand that I was not afraid of his need. I wanted it. I wanted him to stop treating desire like another wound he had to survive alone.

He caught my shoulders and lifted me before I could take him deeper. “Later. I need to be inside you now.”

My entire body tightened at the words. “Then do it.”

Vesh lowered me onto my back and came over me, braced on his forearms so his weight did not press my ribs. His cock rested against my wet opening. He looked into my eyes. “Tell me yes.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me you are mine.”

The possessive alien thing should have irritated me. It had the opposite effect. “I’m yours,” I said. “And you’re mine.”

“Always.”

“Always.”

He pushed deep. The stretch stole my breath. Vesh stopped halfway, every muscle in his body locked and held still while my body adjusted around him.

“More,” I said.

His breath left him in a rough, unsteady sound. He held himself still for another heartbeat, green eyes fixed on mine as if he needed to be certain I understood what I was asking for. The care in that pause made my throat tighten. He could have taken. He never would. Even desperate, even shaking with the effort of restraint, he was waiting for me to choose him.

I lifted my hips, closing the last distance myself. His expression broke. The bond opened wider, carrying the force of his wanting into me until my own need felt almost too large for my body. I kissed him because I needed to give him something back, because the tenderness in his eyes was more intimate than any touch could be.