Page 59 of Shielded in the Shadows

He pressed in.

My mouth fell open in a soundless cry as he filled me, stretching me slowly, again with that gentle rocking motion that let my body adjust to a level of fullness it had never come close to experiencing. He was shaking with the effort of moving so slowly, his own eyes nearly falling closed as his chest heaved.

It was too much, too much, and so, so good.

When he was buried to the hilt, his knot pressed tightly against my pussy, he let out a ragged exhale. “Gods,” he breathed, gazing at me in awe. “You are exquisite. A male could die like this and not care.”

“No one is dying today,” I managed to say. I tried to wriggle and we both groaned. “Jarrix, I need you to stop looking at me like I’m some kind of deity and move.”

“I will look at you as my captain, my mate, and my guiding star,” he said, and began a slow withdrawal that made me shudder. “But I will also move.”

When he thrust into me fully a second time, I climaxed hard and fast and almost without warning, ripping a cry from me that I didn’t recognize as my own voice until Jarrix kissed me and stole the last of my scream.

That climax rolled into another, or maybe it was the same one taken to impossible heights by the unending waves of pleasure caused by those ridges plunging in and out of me.

In the midst of my cries, the fullness lessened as Jarrix’s lower cock slipped free, and then my legs were both draped over his thick forearms and he was thrusting hard up to his knot…and then deeper.

I let out a new kind of wail—one of pleasure and the best kind of pain—as his slick knot stretched me impossibly. For a heartbeat I teetered on a precipice, the knot halfway inside me and my pussy stretched around its thickest point.

And then Jarrix slammed home, and I lost my breath. I was full.

He rocked inside me, grinding against my inner walls in new, seemingly impossible ways, that piercing on his cock head rubbing some magical place so deep inside me that nothing else had ever touched me there. I climaxed again, harder than before, fluttering and squeezing his knot. He groaned my name over and over, his claws digging into the silks and cushions beneath us.

And then he threw his head back and came with a thunderous growl that vibrated through his entire body and into mine. Heat surged inside me with every pulse of his release—perfect liquid heat that filled me until my lower abdomen bulged slightly. Tiny trickles escaped our knotted joining, leaving trails of heat that ran down to my ass, where they joined the hot cum that had spurted in what felt like a much smaller amount from his lower cock.

With a ragged sound, Jarrix gathered me in his arms and rolled us away from the wetness. He lay on his back and settled me on his chest, moving much more gracefully than I would have been capable of at this moment.

Chest rumbling in a deep purr, he drew a silky cloth over us, held me close, and caressed my back with a warm and trembling hand.

Despite how thoroughly sated I felt—and how rubbery my legs would likely be—my body rebelled against his embrace.

Habit demanded I find my discarded clothing and depart because the encounter was over. Both parties had their needs met and it was time to go.

And another set of instincts said You are safe. He sees you. This is where you belong.

I felt displaced and disoriented, caught between the reality of my life before this and the new path I was choosing. I’d staked a claim and been claimed, and I didn’t know exactly how I felt about it, other than still quivering from orgasmic aftershocks and full of Jarrix’s knot.

So I just closed my eyes and breathed.

Jarrix stroked along my spine in a slow, even rhythm as we both caught our breath. The difference in our sizes felt especially noticeable right now. His hand covered what felt like more than half the width of my back, and since I was held in place by his knot, I could neither reach his face to kiss him if I wanted or rub my toes against his feet. So instead I slid my bare foot along his calf, enjoying the texture and heat of his skin.

He bent one knee and cupped the back of my head with his free hand, forming a kind of warm nest with his own body. Maybe I should have found it claustrophobic given my longtime preference for solitude and avoidance of all post-coital cuddling, but instead it was comforting.

“Any pain?” Jarrix murmured. “Or discomfort?”

I took a moment to assess myself. Pleasant soreness in a few expected places, maybe a lingering twinge in my shoulder from our earlier sparring session, but nothing worth mentioning.

“No.” My voice was soft. “You?”

He chuckled. The sound reverberated through his chest. “None at all. I appreciate your concern, though, Captain.”

“Don’t mention it.” I curled my fingertips against his warm skin as if trying to burrow into his chest. “First Mate To’vok.”

His breath hitched and the hand that had been rubbing my back stilled.

“Would you prefer simply ‘Medic To’vok’?” I asked, feigning confusion. “Or ‘Weapons Master To’vok’?”

“I will accept any and all ranks or designations the captain sees fit to bestow upon me.” His voice was warm and his hand resumed its caresses. “Up to and including Cargo Inventory Officer, Second Engineer, or Executive Officer in Charge of Sanitary Systems Maintenance.”