Page 36 of Technically Abducted
"What does it mean?" I ask.
"I don't know," he admits. "But I know what it felt like."
"What did it feel like?"
Tev'ra is quiet for a moment, seeming to search for words. "Like coming home to something I didn't know I was missing."
The admission hits me harder than it should. Because that's exactly what it felt like—like every wall I've built around myself just dissolved, leaving me open and raw and somehow completely safe at the same time.
"I've never felt anything like that either," I tell him. "I've never... let anyone that close."
"Why?"
The question is gentle, curious rather than demanding. "Because getting close means getting hurt. And I learned a long time ago that it's easier to just... not."
"But you're here," Tev'ra observes. "In my quarters. After experiencing something that clearly affected you deeply."
"Yeah," I say, meeting his golden eyes. "I'm here."
"Why?"
I consider the question seriously. Why am I here? Why didn't I retreat to my assigned quarters, put distance between us, go back to the safety of isolation?
"Because," I say finally, "whatever that was between us, I don't want it to be a one-time thing. I want..." I struggle with the words. "I want to see what happens if I stop running away."
"What do you want to happen, Finn?"
The way he says my name, low and careful, sends heat through me that pools low in my belly. I look at him—really look at him—taking in the way his formal shirt can't quite hide the lean strength beneath, the way his pupils have dilated slightly, the gentle pulse of bioluminescence that seems to respond to my gaze.
"I want you," I say simply. "I want to be with you. Really with you."
"Are you certain?" he asks. "Given your earlier admission about experience levels..."
"I'm certain I want this," I interrupt. "I'm just not certain I'll be any good at it."
Tev'ra's expression softens, and he reaches out to touch my face, thumb brushing across my cheekbone. The contact sends that empathic sensation racing between us again, warm and electric.
"Finn," he says quietly, "there's no performance metric for intimacy. No right or wrong way. Only what feels good for both of us."
"Spoken like someone who's actually done this before."
"The physical mechanics, yes. But this..." He gestures between us, encompassing the charged air, the connection that seems to hum just beneath the surface. "This is entirely new."
I lean into his touch, letting myself feel the way his skin warms against mine, the subtle current of shared sensation that makes it hard to tell where I end and he begins.
When he kisses me this time, it's different from the pool. Less desperate, more intentional. He takes his time, exploring the shape of my mouth with gentle precision that makes me understand why Nereidans value systematic approaches.
The empathic connection builds gradually, layers of sensation and emotion that spiral through me until I'm not sure if the heat I'm feeling is mine or his or both. I moan against his mouth and his arm tightens around me.
"Is this alright?" he murmurs against my lips.
"More than alright," I manage to say, though my voice comes out rougher than I intended.
His hands move to trace along my bare chest, fingers exploring the skin he's already seen but not yet touched like this. "May I continue?"
The formal politeness of the question, the way he waits for my permission even though I can feel his want through our connection, makes me want him even more.
"Yeah," I breathe.
