The Falcon Prince

Chapter 10

Whoa now! I am not planning to die, so don’t even think you can kill me off, Shintara quickly told Ria.

“The idea does have some merit,” Ria told Kristor, but immediately regretted her words.

Shintara was silent long enough for guilt to start seeping into Ria.

You would really…let me die?

I’m scared of flying, Ria told her.

There’s nothing to it.

How would you know? You’ve never done it, either.

Have you ever seen an unhappy bird?

Ria was so not ready for any of this. A throbbing started at her temples. She reached up and massaged them, but the ache was still there.

“No, I don’t want Shintara to die,” Ria finally said to him. “You just need to go back where you came from. Then my life will get back to normal.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Kristor said.

“I don’t really care what you can or cannot do. I just want you out of here.” She jumped to her feet and strode to the door, flinging it open.

He sauntered toward her, but didn’t walk out. His presence filled the room. The throbbing spread to the rest of her body, but changed and became a burning need that she found hard to suppress.

“We’re meant to be together. You enjoyed my kiss.” He brushed her hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek.

Her body leapt to awareness. Months had passed since she’d felt a need as strong as this one.

“I want to know you intimately,” he leaned in and whispered close to her ear.

“Why?” Her words trembled.

“Does there have to be a reason for two people to enjoy each other’s bodies?”

“But you’re an alien.”

“As are you.” He lightly massaged her shoulders.

“Only part.” She should tell him to stop, but when she opened her mouth, he covered her words with a gentle kiss. She tasted him as his tongue stroked across hers. He wasn’t demanding, not forcing her, but giving her the choice to push away or pull closer.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, but quickly changed to a deep aching need when he slid his hands over her buttocks and pulled her against him. His need was evident.

What? Was she crazy? She didn’t know this man. Hell, she apparently didn’t know herself. But who could she talk to? Who, other than him, would believe her when she told them she’d shifted into a friggin’ frog? Kristor was her only connection to who she really was.

Maybe she just wanted to relieve the tension building inside her. And maybe that’s why she didn’t push him away.

She shoved on the door, closing it.

He ended the kiss and moved back, studying her face. Then he reached for the hem of her shirt. It was almost as if she were having an out-of-body experience as she raised her arms above her head. He tugged the top off, then let it fall to the floor.

A shiver ran the length of her body. He didn’t move, only looked. Then he kissed one shoulder, running his fingers under her bra, sliding each strap down her shoulder before reaching behind her and unfastening the clasps. At the last second, she clutched her bra to her breasts, not letting him bare them.

He raised an eyebrow.

What was it about that one look? It told her that she was denying them both. And that wasn’t what she wanted to do. She was tired of the lies she’d been telling herself. She wanted him, more than she’d ever wanted a man.

She let go. Her bra fell to the floor. She raised her chin, but knew her bravado wouldn’t last long. Why hadn’t she suggested wine first? Like a whole bottle. She’d never been this nervous before.

He pulled his T-shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. The man really did have some serious muscles. She tentatively reached out and glided her hand across his chest. It was firm to her touch. Sinewy muscle, hard ridges. Battle scars. Not perfect, but she wasn’t seeking perfection. She leaned forward, her lips pressing against one jagged scar.

Kristor sucked in a breath, but didn’t say anything. It was as if he didn’t want to break the spell any more than she did.

How far would he let her go? She reached down and unfastened his jeans, then slid the zipper down. She met his gaze. His eyes were glazed with desire. She wondered how difficult it was for him as he held the warrior inside at bay.

She pushed his jeans over his hips, down his thighs. He kicked out of them. She hesitated, took a deep breath, and reached for the waistband of his briefs. The material molded to his erection. He was large. Her gaze fastened on the bulge. She licked her lips.

He stayed her hand before she could tug them down. Disappointment swept over her—until he ran his knuckles across her stomach, stopping when he was at the waistband of her jeans. He tugged the button through the hole, slid the zipper down. Her jeans followed. Slowly, deliberately, as if he would extend the mounting pressure growing inside them both, he knelt in front of her, and tugged them over her hips.

A flood of heat rushed to her face. He was kneeling right in front of her. He’d see her…all of her. She quickly brought her hands in front and covered herself. “I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

He came to his feet. “Not ready for what?” He caressed her breast, drawing on the nipple, then lightly pinching it between his thumb and finger.

She moaned, leaning toward him. “This is only sex,” she said. “Make sure you understand that this doesn’t mean I’ll be leaving with you. I like my life here. And—”

He lowered his mouth to hers, effectively stopping all conversation. Not that she minded. His hands left trails of fire as he caressed her back, cupped her buttocks, and brought her against him. His erection nudged her mound. The ache inside her made her weak with desire. Her legs trembled so hard that she could barely hold herself up. She needn’t have worried. Kristor scooped her up in his arms.

All those muscles. This was nice. No one had ever carried her to bed before making love. She thought it only happened in the movies. He laid her on the bed, then joined her.

“Only sex,” she repeated.

“Yes,” he agreed, but she thought he was only partially paying attention. He seemed much more interested in running his hands over her breasts, down her abdomen, and lightly scraping through her curls.

She automatically raised her hips, wanting more. He didn’t disappoint as he tugged on the fleshy part of her sex, then slid farther down, dipping one finger inside. She cried out. He immediately backed off. She stopped his hand from moving farther away from her heat.

“No, I like that.”

“Most Symtarian women are passionate.”

“I’m not…” She bit her bottom lip. “I’m not a…a…” Hell, she couldn’t think straight. Not that she really wanted to think right now. No, she only wanted to feel. And what he was doing felt so damn good.

He nibbled her neck, and swirled his tongue inside her ear. “A pure blood?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“But you are still very passionate.”

“I haven’t had sex in a while.” She closed her eyes, moving her body to the rhythm of his finger.

“You’re damp with need.”

She bit back a groan, but couldn’t stop it when his mouth moved to her breast and sucked on her nipple, rolling it around on his tongue. She wanted to touch him, to explore all those delicious muscles, but she was quickly losing her ability to think, to do anything except lose herself in the exquisite pleasure of what he was doing to her body.

She was vaguely aware when he moved over her. “Protection,” she muttered.

“I’ve taken care of it,” he said.

She’d been so lost in the sensations flooding her body, she hadn’t noticed.

He entered her. Filled her. Then stroked her.

Slowly, he moved his body. She rose to meet him. Cried out for more. He increased the intensity. In and out. Deeper. A little harder.

She wrapped her legs around him, drawing him in tighter. Clenched her inner muscles. He sucked in a breath.

In and out.

He dragged a pillow over and placed it under her.

Deeper still.

Heat washed over her.

In and out.

Faster.

Plunging deeper.

In and out.

Filling her.

She closed her eyes, lost in the sensations spinning through her. He took her higher and higher until she felt as though she soared across the sky, and there was no fear. The world around her exploded into a million pieces of light.

She grabbed his shoulders. Her body quivered. She cried out, gasping for air.

He tightened, muscles straining as he came, growling from the force of his orgasm. Then he was falling into her, rolling them onto their sides, pulling her close.

Tears filled her eyes. She’d never felt such a connection. Never felt this much emotion flooding through her. Never felt this damned satisfied.

“What just happened?” she finally asked when she could catch a decent breath. “Is it always like this?”

He shook his head.

She leaned back, looking into his face. “Did you feel it, too?”

He nodded, pulling her close, burying his face in her hair, inhaling the scent of the shampoo she’d used.

He didn’t speak. Now he was worrying her. “What?”

“I think I have found my lifemate.”

Her forehead creased. “Who?”

He moved just enough so he could look at her. “You.”

Before she could question him more about this lifemate stuff, he doubled over, groaning.

Ohmygod, she’d killed him. Maybe Symtarians weren’t supposed to mate with people from Earth or something.

She quickly sat up. “Kristor, are you okay?”

A fog began to roll in. She looked around. What the hell was happening? She jumped out of bed, and bumped her knee on the chair. She grabbed the robe that was across the arm, and thrust her arms inside.

The fog was so thick that she couldn’t see. “Kristor?” She needed to find the phone and call for an ambulance or something. Oh, Lord, what would she tell them? She might have killed a man during sex?

She could feel the blood drain from her face. What if she had killed him? What if she never had sex like that again? She mentally shook her head to clear it. No, that was selfish thinking. She should be more worried about him.

The fog began to slowly fade away. She caught a glimpse of a black-tipped wing. Ria took a step back. The fog cleared.

There was a hawk on her bed.

His animal guide, Shintara said. Yum. Even better than the man. Look at that wingspan.

“Shut up,” she mumbled. Now what was she supposed to do? Better yet, it was late, and she was tired. Where the hell was she going to sleep? The sofa was too uncomfortable. She’d once fallen asleep there watching a tear-jerker movie and awoke with a crick in her neck. It had been very painful.

She stared at the hawk before making a decision. “Don’t hog the covers,” she finally said and lay down on her side of the bed, tucking the cover under her chin. She only hoped hawks didn’t snore. Hell, she was so tired, she didn’t really care at this point. It would’ve been much nicer snuggling, though.

Her sleep was fitful at best.

The next morning, Ria rolled over, stretched, and opened her eyes. Kristor watched her. His lips curled upward. Warm tingles spread over her body.

“Morning,” he said.

“You’re back.”

“It would seem so.”

She hadn’t dreamt last night. It had all happened. The lovemaking, his changing into a hawk. But right before he’d changed, Kristor had mentioned something about her being his lifemate. There was a sound of permanency to it. She wasn’t so sure she was ready for that, no matter how good the sex.

“What exactly does ‘lifemate’ mean?” she asked.

“Lifemate. It means we are meant to be together.”

Dread filled her. “For now, you mean. I mean, nothing long-term. Right?” Although, she didn’t care for the idea of his moving on to greener pastures for at least a few weeks.

He brushed her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Forever. Once a Symtarian finds his lifemate, then they are together forever.”

“But we only had sex.”

“Sometimes a male Symtarian knows the very first time.”

“I barely know you.” That sounded really slutty since they’d had mindblowing sex last night. “I mean, maybe I don’t feel the same way.”

“You will be very frustrated when you can’t reach the same heights as we climbed last night. The only way to experience this kind of fulfillment is with your lifemate.”

She scooted away from him and off the bed, pulling the robe she’d put on last night closer to her. She’d known deep down inside that nothing good would come from their making love, but had she listened? Noooo…

She took a deep breath and looked at him. Big mistake. My God, he looked delicious lying on her bed completely exposed. She dragged her gaze away.

“I’m going to put some coffee on,” she said before hurrying from the room. It was too much to take in all at once. She stumbled, slapping her hand on the wall for support when it hit her again. She was part alien. Her ancestors were full-blood aliens.

But she didn’t want to be an alien.

Kristor swung his legs over the side of the bed. He felt more alive than he’d felt in a long time.

And what will happen if you can’t convince her to leave with you? Labrinon asked.

I will.

But if you don’t. Symtarians have been known to go crazy if they can’t be with their lifemate. I don’t particularly like the idea that one of us would be a drooling idiot.

She will leave with me.

The truth was, Kristor didn’t want to think of what might happen if Rianna didn’t leave with him. Yes, he had heard all the stories of Symtarians losing their minds.

But he would convince her. He had no choice.

Or you could throw her over your shoulder, Labrinon reminded Kristor.

Yes, there is always that.

He stood, went to the bathroom and took a quick shower. Not as refreshing as standing under a waterfall, but definitely warmer.

You’re getting soft.

He almost told Labrinon to be silent, but it never seemed to do any good. He spoke what he wanted, and had the right to do so. His guide had been true and faithful. Labrinon had saved his life more than once by telling Kristor when the enemy drew close. A hawk had superior visual acuity. No, Kristor wouldn’t tell Labrinon to be silent.

This time.

He stepped from the shower, dried off, then knotted a towel around his waist. When he came out of the smaller room, his clothes had been laid neatly across the bed. He walked past them and went to the kitchen. Rianna was drinking coffee at the table.

It must be an Earth custom because the people who’d raised her did the same thing each morning. Kristor had tried the drink, but didn’t find it to his liking.

“Do you have orange juice?” he asked.

She jumped, looked up, then choked. “I laid your clothes on the bed,” she said.

“I prefer fewer clothes in the morning.” At home, he rarely wore clothes. It gave him more freedom.

“And you run around my parents’ home like this every morning?”

“No, I wear what you call ‘pajamas.’ Just like your father.” He went to her refrigerator, opened the door, and spotted a carton of orange drink and brought it out.

“Just make yourself at home.”

“Thank you.” He brought a glass down from the cabinet and poured some juice into it.

“You seem to know a lot about Earth.”

He sat across from her. “I studied. That, and Rogar explained a lot of things to me.”

“Rogar?”

“My brother.”

“What did he tell you?”

He frowned. “Don’t use something called a microwave.” He downed the juice. “This is very good. We don’t have oranges on New Symtaria.”

“Ria, are you up yet?” Carly called out.

Rianna’s face lost some of its color.

“Oh, no.” Her gaze flew to Kristor. “It’s Carly.”

The woman Rianna had called Carly stepped into the room, then came to an abrupt stop, her mouth dropping open to her chin when she saw him.