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“And you will offer yourself to me again?” He huffs, nostrils flaring.
I nod.
“Every day until the sands take us back? Until we turn to stone?”
I don’t quite know what he means, or how he sees the afterlife, but I know the right answer to his questions. The only answer. “Yes.” He leans down to kiss the side of my neck, but I tug on his hair. “Wait.”
“What, owelay? I would take you now. Hearing your voice as well as your words,” he growls into my neck, sinking slowly on top of me. “Hearing you admit that you are mine…It is affecting me.”
“Me, too, but I’m too dirty,” I laugh. “Let’s shower.”
“Sh…” He tries to repeat the word in Portuguese, but can’t. “What is this?”
“Come. I’ll show you. Let me introduce you to the past.”
ChapterFifteen
Lacchus
We stand beneath the spray of water—hotwater—while the female owelay—Rhen, my mate—continues to talk without end. She tells me of a place that existed where we are standing, thousands of years ago. Too many generations of Vironai ancestors have come and gone for this history to have been remembered, kept and passed on by our tribe.
I don’t want to believe her, but I could no longer doubt her when she took me from room to room, showing me records made up of images that appeared like magic, suspended by nothing. She called them holographs, and they depicted toweringcities, a word that does not exist in our tongue but that I try to mimic in hers, much to her delight. She touched me each time I tried to say a word in her language, which only made me want to learn all of them.
Then she brought me to a small room full of stalls made out of a strange, unnatural material. The stalls were small and I didn’t like being in this confined space—at first—but as water poured from the ceiling and she stepped beneath it, tilting her face up toward a sun whose violence cannot find us down here, I began to sink into the comfort of her sighs and smiles.
She said, “Can you help me out of this?” And I clawed my way through her garments, shedding mine as well before stepping beneath the spray with her.
“And that’s how I ended up being a part of the Sucere Project,” she finishes with a sigh. “And how I jeopardized the mission by getting caught by your tribe. The Vir-one-ay?” she tries.
I smile, taking what she callsshampoofrom her hand and squeezing the substance that looks like frex-frex insides into my palm. I massage it into her hair, and she closes her eyes and moans in a way that makes my already half-erect cock harden fully. The tip presses against her belly and she gasps and tries to look down, but I hold her where she is, controlling her with my fist in her curls.
“Veer-ohn-eye,” I repeat, bending over her and pressing my lips to her forehead. “You are now a Vironai female, mated to an Mpo warrior.”
“I am.” She smiles in a way that I find irresistible. “What is Mpo?”
“Generations ago, our Vironai ancestors began experimenting on its population in the hopes of producing a stronger generation of warriors, more capable of protecting themselves and the tribe. The successful experiments are the Mpo. I am descended of these experiments, strong enough to protect my tribe. Strong enough to protect you.”
In a rough move, I spin her around and push her forward. She catches herself by bracing her hands on the wall of the stall and releases a soft, encouraging gasp. “And when I breed you and my seed takes, our children will be Mpo, too.”
“They will?” she asks, arching her back and letting the spray of the water cascade down her spine.
“All Mpo have produced Mpo, even those who have mated with stolen flesh prizes, with weaker tribes, with little owelay like you.”
The hot water smooths my hair down my back, plastering it to my scaled shoulders and exposed skin. It feels decadent. The tears of the sun. I stroke my hand up her back to reach the nape of her neck. I offer it a squeeze as I rope an arm beneath her hips and lift her feet clear off the ground. She gasps.
“Support your torso against this flimsy excuse for a wall, if you can.”
She does as she’s told and I maneuver her hips like a toy for my pleasure until her core is lined up on my cock. I use the pointed tip of my erection to press against her mons, spread her lips, slip inside her…Only the head of my erection has entered her, but it doesn’t matter. The invasion is just as tight, hot, dripping fucking wet as the first time. We groan together as I maneuver her hips with my left hand, holding her by the throat with my right.
“Rhen,” I hiss, struggling to keep the pressure of my hand on her neck light. “I’m not even sure I could have dreamed you. You are too perfect.” I push inside of her a little deeper.
She’s panting now, her arms shaking, her throat working underneath my palm as she struggles. “Lacchus, you have no idea…I feel the same…”
I bottom out, seating myself entirely up to her fleshy ass. I let go of her throat only long enough to smack her behind. She jolts and looks over her shoulder at me with a lazy, languid smile. She looks drunk. I feel drunk. I can scarcely believe she feels the same way for me that I do for her. I can scarcely believe how Idofeel about her. I’ve only just learned her name, yet I feel as if Iknowher. Have always known her.
“Harder, Lacchus.”
I cannot help but laugh as I thrust into her tiny body hard enough to nearly take down the stall wall. I switch her body around so that her hands plant against the one stable wall in this place, grab her neck again and then thrust into her with purpose. And that purpose? To breed a little Mpo offspring into her womb.
