“He’s my genetic founder,” he said. “I’m a clone, Vya. The seventh version of the original Khorahn.”
Clones. No way. It took a moment for that to sink in.
“And that’s why you don’t have nipples?” I asked.
“Correct. It’s to identify me as the clone and him as the original.”
His fingers grazed over mine. The sensation ignited a hunger for him that I knew wasn’t due to any scent-marking but rather the memory of the pleasure I found in his touch.
“I don’t mind that you’re missing a few details,” I said, trying to focus. “It makes you more interesting.”
“He will wish to speak with you.”
“Can we maybe talk about your dad when you’re not playing with my nipples? It’s a little weird for me.”
Khorahn’s ears flicked oddly.
“Dad? He is not my father.”
“You’re a part of him, made from his genes, right?”
“Yes.”
“And I’m guessing he raised you and taught you what you know.”
“For a time.”
“Then, by Earth’s definition, he’s your dad. What do you call him?”
“Founder.”
“Well, I’m going to call him mood-killer if we keep talking about him.”
Khorahn’s nimble fingers plucked at me, and my response was a small gasp, which he took advantage of with a deep kiss. When he pulled back to meet my gaze, I was panting for breath and hungry for more.
“Tell me what you need,” he said.
“You. All of you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
VYA
He growled and kissed me again, his fingers slowly tracing their way down my stomach. I caught them just before they reached my pubic bone.
“All of you, Khorahn. Not just your mouth and fingers.”
He jerked and winced.
“You don’t know what you’re asking. Mating with my kind is…intense and time-consuming.”
“I know. I’ve witnessed it, remember? And that just makes me want to experience it more.”
“We should wait until you speak with the human female on Earth’s trade station.”
I thought about what he was saying then shrugged.
“Why? It’s not going to change my answer. If I’m stuck in space—and we both know that’s what she’s going to tell me—I’d rather be stuck with you.”