When She Belongs: A SciFi Alien Romance (A Risdaverse Tale Book 4) Read online

  Just looking at Bethiah pisses me off. Just thinking about Sophie leaving makes me crazy. I don't know how to combat this. I know she won't stay. I can't force her to—wouldn't force her to. But knowing that she's going to leave and make a life for herself somewhere off this station eats at me. I can't concentrate. I poke at dinner, even though Sophie's made my favorite noodles. My cousin talks all through dinner, dominating the conversation, pretending to be blissfully unaware of my surliness. Sophie notices my silence—because of course she does—and casts me worried looks.

  When I accidentally flick the carinoux with my tail, Sleipnir bites my leg. Not hard, just enough to send the message across. My mood's affecting everyone (except Bethiah) and that somehow makes things worse. Even with the limited time I have with Sophie, I'm keffing things up.

  I'm relieved when Bethiah heads off to her ship for the night, leaving me alone with Sophie and her pet. She pets the carinoux with affectionate little strokes, speaking in an excessively sweet voice to the thing, who twines around her legs and purrs as if he is indeed the baby she keeps calling him.

  And for some keffing stupid reason, I'm jealous of the thing, because I'm not getting all of her attention. Kef me, I'm an idiot. I push back from my stool. "I'm going to take a shower."

  Sophie looks up at me, her brows furrowing. "Is everything…okay?"

  I nod. "Just a bad mood." Impulsively, I move to her side and press a kiss to the top of her head, because I can practically feel her worry. "It's not you. It's me."

  "Do you want me to come bathe you?" she asks in a soft voice.

  The carinoux nips at my leg again, his tail lashing against mine. It's a reminder that he needs something to occupy him before I get to spend private time with Sophie. So I shake my head and press another kiss to the top of her head. "Feed your pet. We'll spend time together after."

  She reaches out and touches my hand as I walk away, and I swear I feel her touch even after I get into the shower. I flex my hand, gazing down at it in frustration. I've heard jokes about mesakkah possessiveness, but I've never experienced it until this day. It's completely and utterly maddening, and yet…somehow right. Of course I should be utterly possessive of Sophie. Who wouldn't be?

  By the time I get out of the shower, I'm still burning with pent-up emotions. I hear Bethiah's voice in my head, calling me a sucker, but more than that, I think of Sophie and her sweet smile, Sophie and the way she clung to my hand when she touched herself. Sophie smiling at me over an early morning meal of noodles. Sophie sticking her tongue out as she works. Her joy in the books.

  She's mine.

  It's time I tell her how I feel. Get it all out there in the open. Let her know that the thought of her leaving me makes me absolutely insane.

  Determined, I wrap a towel around my hips and head into my quarters…only to see Sophie staring thoughtfully at the comm panel. It's turned on, but she's looking at the buttons with dismay, as if she can't quite figure them out.

  "What are you doing?" I bark out, my tone rougher than I intended.

  She jumps in surprise, turning to look at me, her hand on her chest. "Oh, Jerrok. You scared me."

  "What are you doing?" I repeat. There's a dull ache in my chest at the sight of the comm panel lit up. "Who are you trying to contact?"

  She bites her lip, then gestures at the communications system. "I wanted to see if there were any messages from the va Sithai. I worry about them. They haven't sent a single communication and I just…" She takes a deep breath. "Sometimes I worry they forgot about me, I guess."

  My heart burns with a furious mix of emotion. I'm jealous that she's wanting to hear from them. I'm angry that they haven't even bothered to send her a single message to reassure her. And I'm hurt that she's already wanting to leave me behind. Because that's what she's doing, isn't it? Checking when they're going to pick her up?

  Wordlessly, I move to the panel and type in the commands to check for incoming messages. "Nothing."

  Sophie lets out a little sigh. "I guess that's to be expected, right?" She gets up from the seat and offers me a small smile. "Did you have a good shower?"

  I don't care about my shower. All I care about is that this female should be mine…and I'm going to have to let her go. More hot, possessive words bubble up in my throat. I want to tell her that she's mine, that she belongs with me, that no one else can love her nearly as much as I do. That no one else would take such good care of her or hold her when she's scared. But I can't say any of those things, because they're far too close to ownership.

  If I tell Sophie that she's mine, I worry I'm going to lose her forever. She's been owned once before.

  So I say nothing at all. I put a hand to her waist and pull her against me. She looks up at me with dark eyes, her body trembling against mine. "Can I touch you tonight?" I rasp.

  She gives me a little nod. "Please."

  I pick her up and lift her onto the comm station's countertop. The bed's too far away and I need to touch her right now, or I might lose my mind. Her eyes widen in surprise and her arms go around my neck, even as she tilts her face up for a kiss.

  "I need you," I tell her. I lean down and press a light kiss to her parted lips. "Need you."

  "I'm here," she whispers. "I'm not going anywhere."

  But she is. That's the problem. With a low growl, I grab at the collar of her work jumper and touch the auto-fastener, undoing the clasp. It slithers down her front, the fabric gaping open and revealing her lovely body to my hungry gaze. "Can I touch you all over?"

  "Yes."

  "Kiss you all over?" I move forward, putting my hand between her soft thighs. "Kiss you here?"

  She lets out a little hitched breath of surprise and then nods. "Please."

  Mine, I think furiously as I drop to my knees in front of her. All mine, and I'm going to show her.

  54

  SOPHIE

  Jerrok's been a little hard to read today. He's pleasant and sweet to me, but his mood seems to be…short. Distracted. I suspect it has something to do with his cousin. I can't blame him. Bethiah is a lot for anyone to absorb, and for my introverted Jerrok, I imagine she wore her welcome out about an hour after she arrived and now he's just in endurance mode.

  I can relate. I'm pretty ready for her to leave, myself.

  So I stay out of the way, busying myself with scrapping. I tackle the parts I can recognize—I might not know how to chart a proper star course in a navigation system, but I know how to pry apart a matter engine and extract the expensive components that can be re-sold. I've watched Jerrok do it, and when he comes over to check my work and gives me an approving nod, I feel like I've won an award.

  "Best Sidekick in the Galaxy," maybe.

  Throughout dinner, Jerrok's bad mood remains and it's leaking over to Sleipnir, who seems fussy. I make sure to feed the carinoux extra and give him more attention, because I don't want him getting frustrated and taking a bite out of Bethiah. I decide to set him up in my old bed and give him the metal husk of the engine I was working on all day, and Sleipnir makes happy little crooning noises in his throat, his feet pitter-pattering on the floor in anticipation as I carry it to my bedroom. When I'm sure he's settled and happy, I return to Jerrok's chambers…and wonder if I should check for messages from the Little Sister.

  I'm chagrined that I haven't thought about them at all in the past few days. I guess I really should.

  It's just…I love being with Jerrok. I'm dizzy with infatuation, and I enjoy being on the station. I'm happy here. Content (well, until Bethiah dominates the conversation). I'm loving my life in the little bubble of safety I have here on the station and in Jerrok's arms. I don't want any of that to change. Ever.

  When Jerrok comes out of the shower and finds me at the comm unit, though, he doesn't look thrilled. He checks for messages and I hold my breath, releasing it only when there's nothing there. No message from the va Sithai. No one's coming for me, yet.

  I never thought I'd be so glad to be forgotten.


  But then Jerrok sets me atop the counter, my back pressing against the comm unit, and the look in his eyes is the most intense I've ever seen it. "I need you," he growls. "Need you."

  "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." At least not for a few more days. For some reason, the thought makes a flutter of unhappiness coil in my belly. I don't ever want to leave. I don't belong with the va Sithai. I belong here.

  Problem is, I haven't been asked to stay. Maybe Jerrok's short-tempered because he just wants everyone to leave…myself included. The thought's a crushing one. It makes the breath escape my lungs, and I'm barely paying attention when he unfastens the collar of my sturdy work jumper.

  "Can I touch you all over?" he asks.

  Oh. My body immediately flushes with heat and Jerrok has my undivided attention. I realize that we're not going to the bed, and a fascinating tingle unfurls through me. Touch me all over? "Yes."

  "Kiss you all over? Kiss you here?" His hand goes boldly between my legs, cupping my pussy.

  I bite back a gasp. He's going to put his mouth on me? Pleasure me? I've…never had that done. No one's ever gone down on me just so I could experience what it's like. "Please."

  He lets out a little growl of pleasure that makes my skin prickle, and then Jerrok tears at my jumper, shoving it down my shoulders and letting it pool around my hips. I work my arms free of the material, desperate to be naked, to get the gift that I've been promised. When I was an untouched teenager, all the books and movies made a big deal about oral sex. How mind-blowing it would be. Then I got kidnapped by aliens and sold as a slave, and no part of my body was mine anymore. Sex became something to be endured, not enjoyed.

  Which wasn't to say that I didn't have the occasional orgasm. Sometimes it just happened—through chemical means or enough friction. Those were worse, though, because I didn't want it. It felt like someone else was claiming victory over my body when it happened, and it always left me with a sense of loathing.

  Things are different with Jerrok, though. He's waited for me to learn to like myself again. He's held me so tenderly while I came, and last night, he touched me and put his fingers into me, and it didn't feel wrong at all. It felt wonderful.

  So I want this. I absolutely want this, and I'm just as eager as he is. It feels like a gift, though I'd never say anything so silly aloud.

  He holds my hips and presses kisses on my exposed skin, and I sigh with pleasure. I love Jerrok's mouth, love the way he's so fervent about everything. I love the way he's always careful with me—every time he's touched me, he's gone out of the way to make sure that I'm all right with everything.

  I really am lucky that the universe brought me to him.

  I run my fingers through his messy hair as he pulls the last of my clothing off, tearing my panties away. I'm not even mad about that. Instead, I'm thinking about how when I first arrived, he was filthy and always wore dirty clothing, like he didn't give a care about what he looked like. Now, he washes up every day, and I know that's for me. He's trying to be better…for me. It fills me with all kinds of warmth to realize that. His hair's still tangled, though, as if he doesn't quite know what to do with it. Maybe I'll brush it for him later. He liked that. He needs someone to take care of him, just like he needs someone to take care of—

  I suck in a breath as his hot mouth goes to the inside of my thigh.

  "Look at me when I taste you, Sophie," he growls, deep and possessive.

  "I am." I focus my gaze on his face, not his hair. "I'm here."

  He looks like a devil, all horns and bright eyes as he flicks his tongue over the inside of my leg. "I want you to watch me use my tongue on you." He nips at my skin. "Want you to know that it's me tasting your cunt. Me licking you until you come. I want to hear my name on your lips. Understand?"

  There's a possessive urgency to him that shocks me, just a little. It's a good kind of shock, though. My nipples tighten and heat pulses between my thighs. I nod, since he seems to need an answer, and he tugs me forward, tilting my hips and forcing me to lean heavily on the comm station. My pussy is presented to him, my legs spread wide as he gazes down at my open body.

  "Mine." He looks up at me and then lowers his head to taste.

  My entire body prickles in response at the feeling of his tongue sweeping through my folds. I suck in a breath, not entirely sure what to think. I love how intense he is, how focused. There's a hard edge to his need right now, like I'm a craving he's been fighting to get under control—and lost. He slicks his tongue over my pussy twice, then lifts his head and studies my flesh. "Beautiful."

  Before I can say anything else, his head dips again, and his tongue is on my clit.

  I suck in a breath, squirming, my hand on the top of his head. Having his mouth and his tongue there is…intense. There's no other word for it. Part of me wants to wriggle away from the touch because it's too much, and as he licks at me, I gasp, because there's no escaping the constant flick of his tongue. Jerrok locks an arm around my hip, and one leg is over his shoulder, the other propped up on the counter. I'm splayed wide open and I dig my fingers into his thick hair as his tongue delves lower, pushing against the entrance to my core. "Oh fuck."

  "Knew you'd taste so sweet," he groans, lapping at my core. "So keffing juicy for me." His fingers tighten on me, pinning me in place as he pushes his tongue into my core.

  I writhe against his mouth, against the subtle press of his tongue. It feels different than a cock, but he's teasing the entrance, where I'm most sensitive, and I whimper as he pushes his tongue into me again and then pulls out. I can't seem to stay still; everything in me wants to move, and when he thrusts into my core again with his tongue, I push against him, rocking my hips to take him deeper.

  And it feels…incredible. My breath hitches, because he sinks his tongue so deep that I can feel the drag of his tongue ridges as he pulls out. "Oh, Jerrok…"

  He drags his tongue slowly up from my core to my clit again, flicking against it as he does. Then, he presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to it and gazes up at me. "Is this good, Sophie? Do you like my mouth on you, or should I stop?"

  "No," I pant. "Don't stop! Keep going!" My voice catches in my throat. "Please, please keep going."

  He growls, the sound low and sinful and it sends a shiver up my spine. "Good."

  Jerrok gives me another slow, meaningful lick, and as he reaches my clit, our eyes meet. It's utterly intense, sending a bolt of hunger through me, and I whimper even as I arch my hips. His mouth lingers there, and then he sucks on my clit, his tongue pressing in a slow, steady rhythm that mimics how I touch myself when I masturbate.

  I cry out, my hands knotting in his hair. I'm yanking on it, but he doesn't seem to care. Instead, his grip tightens and he keeps lapping and sucking at my clit as my hips work frantically against his mouth. I make needy little noises, clinging to his head as he watches me, his mouth locked in place, and it's the most erotic, intense moment I've ever had in my life.

  When I come, it startles me with how quick—and how hard—I climax. My entire body jolts, my muscles tightening, and then there's a burst of wetness that makes Jerrok groan as he licks me clean. I eventually come down, shuddering, and a little bit lost as he continues to work me with his mouth, kissing and nibbling on all my sensitive parts. I twitch when I get too sensitive, my fingers fluttering over his face. "Jerrok."

  He turns and presses a damp kiss to the inside of my palm. "Yours."

  That wasn't what I was asking…but it's perfect all the same.

  55

  JERROK

  I love the dazed expression on Sophie's face as I scoop her off the countertop and carry her to bed. She looks thoroughly wrung out, but more than that, she looks just a little bit astonished, like she's never deserved to have anyone pleasure her like that.

  Ridiculous. I loved having my face between her thighs. I loved how wet she was, how she coated my face in her release. I'd gladly wake her up every morning with a kiss on her pretty cunt.

&nbs
p; She burrows against my chest, tucking her face in. "I feel like my bones melted."

  I chuckle at the thought. "It was good, then?"

  "It was amazing." Sophie lets out a little sigh and reaches for me when I set her down gently on the bed. "What about you?"

  She has to ask? "I enjoyed it, too."

  Sophie chuckles, shaking her head. "No, what about you?" She gestures at my erection, which is aching with the need for release.

  Ah.

  I shrug. What just happened wasn't about me, not really. It was about claiming Sophie, showing her how beautiful and perfect she is…and getting to taste her. I don't mind aching as long as I get to see that sweet look of release on her face…and to savor her flavor on my tongue. "It can wait."

  "It doesn't have to, though." Sophie reaches up for me again, that drowsy smile of release on her face. "Come be with me."

  My mouth goes dry. I take her hand in mine, playing with her fingers. "Are you sure?"

  She nods. "Come to bed."

  Is she sure she wants me? A broken-down ex-soldier with nothing to offer? Because I know if I claim Sophie in every way possible, I'm not going to be able to let her go. She's going to grab my heart in her small human fists and shatter it when she leaves. I know this…and yet I still get into bed with her.

  Because I am a fool when it comes to her, and I do not even care.

  Sophie lets out a happy little sigh, sliding her arms around me as I lie down in the bed next to her. She is beautiful, her dark hair spilling out over the mattress. She runs her hands over my chest, a smile curving her lips as I get comfortable. I lean on one elbow, pulling her close and settling her smaller body against mine. I'm not going to mount her right away like an animal. I want to touch her, to make this as enjoyable an experience for her as I possibly can. I'm well aware of her past and that she needs to be treated gently.

  "Next time we do that—if there's a next time—you should use the bed," Sophie tells me, her fingers tracing little lines on my sleeve. "I don't like the thought of you hurting your knees."