He laughs again, a harsh, predatory sound that’s almost a growl. I shudder, and he nips at my breast, then my neck. A low moan tears out of me.

“Call me your king. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m not yours,” I say. It comes out breathy and not sounding anything like me at all. I’m not sure I even believe me, anymore.

Nydo laughs, then playfully slaps me between my legs again. His fingers run through my wetness.

“It looks like you want to be mine.” He raises one eyebrow. “It feels like you want to be mine, and only mine.”

He tugs at my underwear, and they rip apart in his hands. It isn’t until I catch the faint hint of smoke that I realize he’s singed them off of me.

“You asked me to give you release. You made me agree to your terms.” His finger finds my clit again, and he swirls around it, playing with it. “Now agree to mine, and I’ll give you what you want.”

I wet my lips. “Right now, Nydo, you’re mine.”

His eyes flare, and he finally increases the pressure, finally giving me what I need—

And then his fingers disappear.

“My king, Nydo, mine,” I say on an exhale.

“Good girl,” he purrs.

The words fuck you are right on the tip of my tongue, but when he moves down my body, licking my pussy, teasing my wet clit with loud, hot licks, all I can do is moan.

“This is what you get when you are good to your king,” he growls into my pussy, and I swear, the feel of his breath and the vibrations of his voice make me even closer than all the dirty foreplay.

It’s better than I dreamed it.

“Nydo,” I whine, my voice high and needy and unlike anything I’ve ever sounded like before.

“That’s right, Leigh,” he says approvingly, “come for me. Fill my mouth with your delicious taste.”

He laps at me, and when he presses a finger into me, I thrash against him, panting. He searches until he finds my g-spot, and when he does?

He’s relentless.

“Nydo, Nydo,” I say, and he continues to feast on me, stroking me higher and higher.

“Come for your king, for your mate,” he commands.

And it’s with that word —mate—that I do, losing myself completely to the explosive power of the most intense orgasm of my life.

My legs are still shaking as he scoops me up into his arms. I’m half-aware, completely dazed from the power of the orgasm he wrung from my body.

I feel sated in a way I haven’t in years.

I blink blearily as warm water from the shower drips over me. Nydo lathers a cloth with herb-scented soap and scrubs it all along my body. I can hardly move. I don’t know if it’s from his admittedly excellent sexual prowess of the after-effects of having an orgasm post-concussion, but for once?

For once, I’m content to let him prop me up against his chest and wash me all over.

“You’re still wearing pants,” I note. They rub against my bare butt.

“My pleasure was not part of the deal.” It’s said matter-of-factly. “Did I… DJ Tom Diddleston you to your satisfaction?”

“Don’t call it that,” I say immediately. Using that phrase was a bad, bad choice.

The washcloth slides over my breasts, and I tip my head back onto his shoulder, lost in the simple sensation.

“You called it that.”

“I don’t want you to call it that.” Words are hard. My brain still struggles to compute anything after what he just did to me.

“Is it a special term for only true mates on Earth?”

“No. Humans don’t have true mates.” I snort, then start to turn, regaining at least some control of my limbs. That is, until I realize I’m face-to-chest with him. His skin is so velvety and soft, the water beading across his perfectly sculpted abdomen.

Water runs in rivulets down the valleys of his muscles, all leading south… to where his pants are soaked, doing nothing to hide the massive erection straining the physics of the material.

“This shower is really big.” I tear my gaze away, forcing myself to look at his face.

His pretty, water-flecked face, his eyes still glowing warmly. A shiver runs through my body, and he slips the washcloth over my shoulders, a wicked smile turning up one corner of his mouth. “Just the shower, then?”

I snort, raising one eyebrow. “How did I know you were going to point that out?”

My gaze dips to it again. It is… really big.

“My pleasure was not part of the agreement we struck, but if you keep looking at me like you want me to bury my cock in your cunt, then I am only too happy to renegotiate.”

I breathe deeply, managing to inhale half the water streaming from the shower. Sputtering, I wipe my eyes and try to formulate an answer, even as my entire body starts to key up again.

“We will discuss this after we meet the delegation on Ikkox settlement.” Nydo all but purrs, and I shiver again as he soaps my hair, his fingers expertly working the shampoo through my locks.

He’s surprisingly gentle, his fingertips barely scraping over my scalp, and oh so careful with the side of my head that still aches from the Roth mercenary’s attack. My raging lust abates somewhat…

How is it that this is the same dude who slapped my pussy and made me come so hard I nearly blacked out, now taking care of me like…

Like he meant what he said.

Am I really his mate?

I close my eyes, letting the warm water run over me, trying to shove the question from my mind. Instead, the vision of Nydo on the space station comes roaring back through my mind.

His mate.

“Nydo…” I start to ask him about whether he actually thinks I’m his mate, about whether or not he’s faking it—but the shower water shuts off, and I shiver at the loss of warmth.

“You are cold,” he says. In an instant, the shower steams around me, the remaining droplets heating as Nydo’s heat envelops me. I stare up at him, my mouth parted in surprise.

“That’s handy,” I say, raising one hand, watching the water evaporate.

He runs his hands through my hair, and when he’s done, it lies in dry waves around my shoulders.

“Well, that answers why you didn’t need Piper to help with my hair.”

“Is that what you were about to ask?”

“Yep,” I lie, nodding my head.

“For this meeting, you need to look the part of my queen as much as possible.”

My abdomen clenches at the stress he puts on the word, triggering an instant memory of how he called me that in bed only minutes ago.

“I know what the Roth expect to see.” He steps from the shower, and I track the ripple of his muscles, the designs on his skin as they disappear beneath his pants.

“Doesn’t Piper need to look like a… princess, too? Doesn’t Billie?”

Annoyance flickers over his face, and I latch onto it, because that’s the male I know. The one who is imperious, and not in a fun way. The one who acts like the rest of us are just here for his amusement, and like his power gives him the right to treat us all as lesser beings.

I scowl at his back, and he passes me a soft towel, which I immediately put over my nakedness.

“You raise a valid point,” he finally says, then pulls his sodden pants off. His cock springs free and I turn away, all too aware of the fact he’s seen every inch of me naked.

What was I thinking? I thought I could… just make a deal with him, and that ridiculous need to fuck him would go away? I’ve just made everything worse.

I’m so distracted by trying to scrub the image of his massive, hard dick from my brain that it takes me way too long to figure out what he’s said to me.

“What?”

“You are right,” he says easily, and when I chance a glance back over at him, he’s toweling off the rest of his body.

“I am?”

The look he gives me is quizzical and amused. He shouldn’t be so handsome. It should be illegal to look like that and be muscled and have friggin’ superpowers, too.

Oh, and he’s royalty.

No wonder he’s a massive asshat. Most of the time. I twist my mouth to the side. Usually.