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Any talking is over when I take her beaded nipple in my mouth. This time, her gasp is one of pleasure as she threads her fingers through my hair and clutches my head. My exploration is slow and thorough. Our time in the containment cube was far too rushed. I didn’t have time to savor the way Devon tastes. The sounds she makes. The softness of her skin. The way she bites her bottom lip when I find the places that give her the most pleasure.

Her lower garment receives the same treatment as the thing she called a bra. With a single nick, it’s in two pieces and easily removed to give me access to her cunt and the mating fluid she produces. After a long, slow lick I discover Devon tastes like the shurup nectar I have been treated to on our neighboring planet Tavikh, a sweetener they add to certain foods.

I devour my mate like my new favorite dish, lapping at her center so I don’t miss a single drop. Her cries of pleasure are music to my ears. I focus my attention on her sensitive clit, nibbling at the swollen nub, because I remembered how much she enjoyed my touch in that place. I ease one finger—then two—into the tight channel of Devon’s cunt. She clamps down on them and arches her back pulling them deeper into her body.

“Alik, please,” she begs. “I need you.”

“You have me.” I thrust my fingers in and out.

She throws her head back and shakes it. “No. More. I need you inside me.”

I thumb her clit, wanting her to reach her first climax before I sink into her sweetness. Devon cries out and her whole body shudders. Before she comes down from pinnacle, I rip off my trou, cover her with my body, and drive my cock deep inside her cunt all the way to the hilt.

She screams my name and her blunt human nails claw down my back. Devon wraps her legs around my waist and digs her heels into my lower back urging me to move. I do as my heart’s fire demands. Anything to bring her to another peak of ultimate pleasure.

I snap my hips time and time again, pushing my cock deeper. The angle of my thrusts change so I graze her clit with each one. I bury my face in the curve of her neck and the urge to leave my mating mark is stronger than my restraint. As if Devon senses my need she clasps my head tighter against.

“Yes,” she says. “Do it. Mark me.”

With her permission, I strike and sink my fangs deep in the curve where her neck and shoulder meet. The pleasure pain is too much for both of us. Her orgasm hits and mine follows right behind. I empty myself inside Devon, and her cunt milks every last drop from me until I have nothing left to give.

She takes my weight even when I try to keep most of it off her. Her ankles stay locked at the base of my spine, her arms wrapped around my shoulders, pinning me. I lick away any traces of blood left around her mating mark. Devon shivers at the touch.

“I did not hurt you too much, did I?”

“Not at all,” she whispers. “I want to mark you next.”

My softening cock twitches at the that. What would be it be like for my heart’s fire to mark me in the same way? I would wear the proof of our mating with pride. “It would be my greatest honor to bear your mark.”

Devon makes a pleased sound. She also shifts as though my weight is finally too much, so I roll to my side and withdraw my now soft cock. My mate turns so we face each other. Her cheeks are slightly flushed and her forehead is damp. My gaze shifts to her mating mark. It’s raw and appears tender, but pride fills me at the sight of it. Later, I will ask Vornak to come and heal it for her.

“You’re pretty good at that funny business,” Devon says with a large grin.

“I am glad you think so.”

She reaches out and traces lines on my chest with her fingertips. Her lips flatten and she grows serious, but remains silent. I caress her cheek. “What is it? Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”

Devon snaps her eyes upward. “No, I promise you didn’t hurt me. I was just thinking, I guess.”

“About what? You can always speak your mind with me.”

She nods and curls her hand beneath her head. “I know.”

I want her to open up, but I don’t push. When my heart’s fire is ready to talk, she will. I just have to be patient until then. Luckily, I don’t have long to wait.

“I don’t know how to be a princess,” Devon says quietly. She doesn’t meet my eyes.

My finger goes beneath her chin and I tip her head up. “I don’t want you to be anyone other than Devon. However that manifests.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to embarrass you.”

I cradle her jaw. “You will never embarrass me. Besides, look at your friend Olivia. I have vague memories of the day of the rebel attack. The day the madness took over. You and she stormed the palace in search of…her mate…and refused to take no for an answer.”

Devon finally relaxes, and her laugh is sweet and musical. “We didn’t exactly storm the castle. I just made a carefully worded vague threat that the commander would be greatly displeased if the guard didn’t let us in considering we are friends with his heart’s fire. God, I was a nervous wreck barging in that room with her like that.”

“I would not have guessed. Both of you were fierce-looking. My annoyance at your disruption was briefly overridden by my being impressed at your audacity.”

She covers her face with her hand. “Olivia is fearless. We’ve been caught up in her tsunami of confidence many times. It’s kind of hard not to. But any confidence I have is a direct result of whatever minuscule amount I absorb from Liv.”