Page 57 of Alien's Heart
Nox gripped her hips and leaned over her. He mouthed the back of her neck, his fangs scraping against the skin.
She quaked and trembled under him as his hips snapped back and forth. With a gasp, she tensed, as if she dared not move. He recognized the signs of her climax, the way she held still as if that could prolong the pleasure.
If more pleasure were what she wanted, he’d give it to her. He continued to work his hips, doing his best to maintain steady, even strokes. Her core clenched around him.
His release came swiftly, coiling and tightening at the base of his tail. His strokes grew frantic and uneven.
His fangs sank into the curve where her neck joined her shoulder. She squirmed, the involuntary reaction of prey fighting for its life. Keeping his mouth on her shoulder, he held her in place as he released inside her.
Ruth stilled, her face pressed against the blanket. She was his. He would not let her go. Not now. Not ever.
Nox sat upright, pulling her with him. Holding her back to his front, he wrapped his arms around her. “My mate,” he murmured, licking the bite.
She leaned back, resting her head against his shoulder. “My mate,” she repeated.
He would do anything for his mate. He’d burn the world. He’d face off against the petty villains that made her life difficult. He’d even face the consequences of his past if necessary.
ChapterEighteen
Ruth
Noxand the hypercycle were gone by morning.
Ruth shouldn’t have been surprised. How many times had Nox warned her that he wasn’t to be trusted? He was dangerous and unpredictable. She had convinced herself that was the quality she liked best about him. Well, joke’s on her. The whole thing—you carry my heart, the bite, the promises—was all a con and she fell for it.
Now all she had was a possibly infected bite mark. Ruth poked at the tender skin, before slathering it in ointment and covering it with a bandage so she didn’t have to look at it.
Embarrassment mixed with fury pulled Ruth through her day. The sting and burn of the fresh bite kept Nox in the front of her thoughts. She pushed through and got on with it. She had work to do. Nox might have tricked her into falling for him, but she wasn’t going to lay in bed and cry all day. Not over him.
Their time together was nice, but Nox didn’t mean anything to her.
Ruth kept repeating that phrase, hoping that eventually it’d feel more like the truth and less like her heart being torn from her chest and stomped into a pulp. Just a little. She wasn’t looking for a miracle as she forced herself through her normal routine: a cup of kava for breakfast, check the agripods, take soil and grain samples, and back to the lab. If she worked, she occupied her brain and she didn’t have to think about how empty the house felt that morning.
It was fine. One less set of dishes to wash and no one would make that face at her less-than-stellar cooking. She’d never have to wait for the bathroom, and she could hog all the blankets without remorse. It was fine. She was fine, totally fine, and she’d repeat it until she believed it.
Little Hunter followed Ruth around, chirping and rubbing against her legs. It was sweet the way the wuap tried to comfort her.
“I know you miss him but we’ll be fine.” Another lie. Whatever.
She must have looked dire because Little Hunter let Ruth cuddle her. Normally, she’d get a claw to the face if she tried to pick up the wuap.
By the time the sun touched the horizon, Ruth was contemplating which package of instant noodles sounded less pathetic: lime chili explosion or creamy deluxe chicken.
Her comm unit rang.
Awesome. Now she had an audience. Well, misery loved company and Ruth wasn’t about to wallow all by herself. “The creamy deluxe chicken noodles…is the cream deluxe or is the chicken deluxe? I can’t tell.”
“Where are you?” Serene asked, worry in her tone.
“Home.”
“Geral’s been telling everyone in town that you infect your crop with the fungus.”
“I did. That’s the entire point. It’s what the professor was working on.”
“Why would you do that? That’s so irresponsible.”
“I infected the specimens in the agripods, not the open fields. I’m not irresponsible,” Ruth said, her tone a touch harsher than she intended.
