Page 26 of The Price of Peace
I flushed. “No. But in my defense, a lot was happening.”
“Give me your clothes and I’ll figure out how to get Julie to wash them while you’re in the cleansing room. I’d join you in the shower, but it looks way too small.”
The shower was indeed incredibly small.
And while I was very appreciative of being able to get clean, I’d kill for a roomy shower with a rainfall head. Or, better yet, a bathtub. Oh, to sink into a big tub of hot, soapy water and soak until my skin was wrinkly and my muscles barely worked would be … truly orgasmic. I heaved another sigh.
A groan came from the corner where glowing green eyes locked on me with a predatory intensity that made my mouth go dry.
“Loud thoughts again?” I asked innocently.
“Very loud.” He voice was more of a snarl when he answered and I swallowed, hard.
I resisted the smile that wanted to overtake my face, kicked off my boots, and shucked my pants and panties. “Don’t worry. I’ll be quick.”
Xyrox only nodded, his hands going to the straps of his boots without taking his eyes off of me. Turning my back, I jumped into the unit and hit the appropriate buttons. A clear wall came up, encircling me. Before I could process my surprise, a dry mist of solution filled the tube. Stepping in a tight circle, I raised my arms and lifted my hair to make sure all of me was covered in the cleansing solution.
When the mist stopped and I heard the door slide back down, I blinked my eyes open only to find Xyrox’s face right in front of mind. My lips parted in surprise, and he pounced.
16
XYROX
Watching her naked body through the mist of the cleansing solution, knowing I couldn’t reach her until the timer went off, was pure torture. Without conscious thought, I moved silently, closer and closer, my eyes never leaving Peace as she slowly turned in the tube. When her arms raised her hair off her back, her full breasts followed suit, and I couldn’t stop the appreciative groan that escaped my lips.
My mouth watered for a taste of those hard pink buds, and I took myself in hand, stroking slowly as I watched. Before I knew it, I was just on the other side of the clear door, a hairsbreadth away from her lips, waiting for the timer to sound and the barrier between us to disappear. Her eyes were still closed, and I wondered whether she could sense me on the other side of the clear plastic. I locked down my thoughts to try to avoid her hearing me, I wanted to see the surprise on her face when I took that smart, pouty mouth of hers.
Buzz! I tightened my grip on my mating lingam and froze, watching the barrier slide back down into the floor. Then those glorious violet eyes popped open and locked onto mine. Her lips parted, but before she could say a word, my mouth was on hers, devouring her. My fatigue and worry were completely forgotten as my hands searched her supple flesh. I needed to feel every inch of her with every part of me.
The air between us crackled with unspoken tension, a magnetism that pulled us closer, tighter as I scooped her up, my hands closing around the perfectly round globes of her ass. Her breath hitched in her throat, a small sound that echoed in the stillness of the room. Never breaking the kiss, I whipped around and took the two steps toward the bed.
The mattress groaned softly under our combined weight as I lowered her onto it, my body following hers down. I watched my own fingers as they traced lines of fire along her skin, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.
“Xyrox,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. The sound of my name on her lips was a benediction, a plea, an invitation. One I was happy to answer “yes” to.
“Yes, xiara.” I leaned in, my breath hot on her neck as I inhaled her scent—a mixture of cleanliness and the faintest hint of something uniquely her. My lips brushed against the tender spot where her neck met her shoulder, a soft gasp escaping from deep within her.
“Mmm … you called me that earlier.” Her breath hitched as I let my teeth nip her delicate earlobe.
“Because you’re my love. Always and forever, my love.”
Her eyes blinked rapidly, and I thought I saw a sheen of tears glisten, although she wouldn’t let them fall.
“Peace,” I murmured, my voice a low growl that felt as though it vibrated in her body through our bond. “Haven’t you figuredthis out yet? You’re mine, and I’m yours. We have the magical bond marks to prove it, though I don’t think I needed them.”
The assertion, raw and possessive, sent a shiver through her. She melted into my touch, her body flowing into mine like we were one. Our mating marks pulsed hot between us. My lips returned to hers as my hands explored her curves, lingering on the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips, the softness of her breasts.
Soon, she was arching into me, her fingers tangling in my dreads, pulling me closer. I obliged her—my mouth devoured hers, my tongue tasting every crevice I could reach. The kiss was more than just a kiss—tongues clashing, breaths mingling, teeth grazing. It was it was an explosion of sensation.
When my lips left hers, tracing a path down her throat, I lingered on the pulse point that beat frantically there for me. The feeling overwhelmed me, and I flicked out my tongue, taking in the scent of her skin, her arousal. I moaned deep in my throat before continuing my descent, kissing and nipping at her collarbone, the valley between her breasts where her mark shone bright, and gave off heat like a shooting star, threatening to burn us both up.
My tongue flicked over a hard, pebbled nipple, drawing a gasp from deep within her. I lavished attention on her breasts, my mouth and hands working in sync, remembering exactly what drove her wild. When I bit down to add just a touch of pain to the pleasure, she cried out and her short nails dug under the scale plates on my shoulders. I shuddered at the sensation and my lips curled up around my teeth. I hoped she marked me permanently. I would wear her battle scars with pride.
As my lips continued to feast on her, her hands roamed over my body, exploring the hard planes of my chest, the ridges of my abdomen, the bulging muscles of my arms. Her nails tracedthe designs of the dark tattoos that told of my life and things of importance to me that, someday, I would share with her.
For now, however, each touch, each scrape of a nail, stoked the fire within me, building it higher and hotter. My lingams raised and hardened to almost painful proportions, but I would not find my own release until my xiara was satisfied.
My hands moved lower, skimming over her stomach, slipping between her thighs. My fingers found her slick and ready, her body highlighting her need for me. I stroked her gently at first, teasingly, my fingers dipping into her heat before withdrawing to circle her little nub that made her cry my name.
