Page 29 of Taken By the Alien Siren King

I reached for him, fingers tracing the path from the nape of his neck down to the small of his back. He inhaled sharply, a shudder running through his powerful frame.

“Sensitive?” I teased between planting open-mouthed kisses along his shoulder. I traced a single finger down his spine. “What do you feel when I touch you here?”

“Like lightning,” he groaned, hips jerking forward to grind his cock against my hip. “Like you’re touching me everywhere at once.”

He grabbed my wrists, pinning them above my head as he leaned down to capture my mouth in a bruising kiss. The position left me open and vulnerable, his body looming over mine, but instead of fear, exhilaration flooded my system. I could take him apart. I could shatter him like glass with nothing more than a few touches.

I hooked one leg around his hip, guiding him closer. “Fuck me,” I breathed. “Please.”

He rocked his hips, sliding his cock through the wetness pooling between my legs. “I like it when you beg, my queen.”

“I’m not begging.” I lifted my chin in a defiant tilt. “I’m commanding. I need you inside me. Now.”

The last word ended on a gasp as he pushed forward, sheathing himself fully in one smooth thrust. The stretch was almost too much, but fuck if it didn’t feel incredible. He ground his pelvis against mine, hitting my clit just right, and stars burst across my vision.

“Again,” I ordered, locking my ankles behind his back to pull him deeper.

His rhythm started slow but quickly built to a pounding tempo, driving the air from my lungs. There was nothing sweet or gentle in it now, just raw animalistic need. His hips snapped against mine, and I met each thrust with equal ferocity, nails raking down his back.

“Need you,” he growled against my throat, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. “Fuck, I need you like I need the sea.”

“I’m here.” I dug my fingers into his scalp, dragging his mouth to mine in a frantic kiss. “Always. I’m yours.”

Desire coiled within me, the promise of release so close I could taste it. He gripped my thigh and hiked it up to his hip, changing the angle. The next thrust slammed against a spot deep inside me that sent me hurtling toward climax.

Lairos’s movements turned erratic, his thrusts deeper and harder as he chased his own release. Then he leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. “When you come,” he murmured, voice thick and gravelly, “I’m going to mark you. Everyone will know who you belong to.”

Another rough thrust. Another flick of his thumb against my clit. That was all it took to push me over the edge. I buried my face against his shoulder to muffle my cries as waves of pleasure crashed over me, dragging me under.

His teeth sank into my flesh at the same moment he slammed into me one final time. The sharp pain mixed with pleasure, bubbling into pure bliss that had me screaming his name. I felt him pulse inside me, filling me with his release as he marked me as his mate for all to see.

We collapsed together, his body pinning me deliciously to the sheets. His tongue lapped gently at the bite mark, soothing the sting. The tenderness in the gesture made my throat tight.

“Mine,” he murmured again, pressing a kiss to the mark. “My mate. My queen.”

“What do you feel now?” I whispered, echoing his question back to him.

His eyes met mine, all the arrogance and royal bearing stripped away to reveal the man beneath.

My Lairos. My partner. My lover. My king.

He smiled, cupping my cheek in his palm. “Complete.”

EPILOGUE

EMME

Ishifted uncomfortably in the transport capsule, trying to find a position that didn’t make my back ache or put pressure on my bladder. At eight months pregnant, comfort had become a distant memory.

“Here,” Lairos said, sliding a cushion behind my lower back. “Is that better?”

I nodded, unable to stop the small sigh of relief that escaped my lips. “Thanks.”

His hand moved to my swollen belly, fingers splayed wide as if trying to cover as much of our child as possible. The gentle pressure was followed by a swift kick against his palm. Lairos grinned, that same look of wonder crossing his face that appeared every time the baby moved.

“Strong,” he murmured. “Like her mother.”

“Or stubborn like her father,” I countered, but couldn’t stop my own smile.

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