He takes his time stoking the flames inside of me until I’m nearly out of my mind with need. Only then, when I’m arching and shuddering and writhing against him, does he finally slide inside of me.
And this time when he takes me up and over, he joins me. And nothing in my life has ever felt so good.
Chapter 60
Kali
When I wake up, Ian is gone.
I start to feel bad—what girl wouldn’t, when she wakes up to find that the man she had sex with the night before has disappeared?—but then I see the cup of coffee on the small shelf built into the wall next to Ian’s bed and remember him dropping kisses on my face as he set it there.
Gage had needed him on the bridge—something about fixing the Starlight’s damage—and though I offered to get up, he’d told me to sleep in. That he’d come back as soon as he could.
Apparently, whatever Gage was doing was more time-consuming than he thought, because it’s now late morning and Ian still hasn’t returned.
I reach for the coffee and take a long swallow, not minding that it’s lukewarm. The second the bitter liquid hits my insides, the cobwebs around my brain—a side effect, I’m pretty sure, of mind-blowing pleasure—start to disappear.
Which is a good thing, because I can’t spend the whole day in bed, no matter how tempting the thought is—especially if Ian’s in the bed with me. So I put my jumpsuit back on and head out to find everyone else.
The closer I get to the bridge, however, the shyer I get. Ian and I had a great time last night, and judging from the way he held me this morning—and the coffee he brought me—he’s not regretting it. I’m not regretting it, either. But I still don’t know what I’m supposed to do when I see him, especially since it will be in front of the rest of the crew.
Am I supposed to pretend last night didn’t happen? Not forever, but just in front of everyone else?
Or am I supposed to pretend last night didn’t happen forever? Like, it was just a one-off, never to be repeated?
Or am I supposed to just acknowledge it like it’s no big deal?
The worst part is, I’m not sure which one of the above choices makes my stomach hurt more.
I guess it doesn’t matter, because the walk from Ian’s cabin to the bridge isn’t long enough for many more recriminations. Besides, if I’m learning nothing else on this trip, it’s that if you don’t like what things look like at the moment, wait five minutes. They will change.
I take a deep breath and another long sip of coffee and then walk through the open door to the bridge.
Shockingly, I’m the last one here. Again.
I take a second to take stock—Gage is holding court at the front of the bridge, with Ian standing right next to him, listening closely to what he has to say. Beckett is right there, too, looking as blasé as usual, while Rain looks downright unhappy, which isn’t normal for her.
Merrick looks as blasé as Beckett, a surefire tip-off that something is going down. And Max—Max looks up and notices me before anyone else.
His smile is broad and immediate, despite the fact that he was passed out drunk in the middle of the galley less than ten hours ago. Apparently, he and Rain are really living right.
I give him a wave and a little smile, and he immediately gets up to make his way over to me. To break the news of what’s going on up front? Or to run interference between Ian and me?
Something tells me it’s the latter, and my stomach does an extra flip—even before Ian’s head shoots up. Across the bridge, he turns around to see what’s up—and his eyes lock immediately with mine. My heart jumps to my throat, and I don’t know what to do. But then he smiles. Not the usual, sarcastic, thanks for joining us, Princess smile that I’m used to, but his real smile. The one I saw for the first time last night in bed.
I find myself smiling back before I even make the decision to do so. But how can I not? A smiling Ian is a gorgeous sight to behold.
As is a smiling Max, if I’m being honest—though not quite the same way. “You’re looking good,” I tell him as he approaches me.
“Considering how I woke up this morning, I view my quick recovery as no less than a miracle,” he replies.
“If that’s the case, could you maybe ask for a couple more? Because things are getting really strange around here.” Ian has gone back to talking to Gage, but that doesn’t stop me from sneaking glances at him every thirty seconds or so.
“Isn’t that the truth?” He, too, looks toward Ian.
“What’s happening?” I ask. “Why does everyone look either happy or like they’re one short step from freaking out completely?”
“Gage got the comms working.”
The words are so unexpected that for a second they don’t register. “He did?” I finally exclaim once they sink in. “When?”
“He says he woke up in the middle of the night with a brainstorm and has been working in here ever since. Guess concussions are good for ideas?”
No wonder Rain looks so sad. Operational external comms means contacting home planets, telling people we’re okay. Setting up rendezvous for safe returns. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out she has no interest in returning to the monastery—especially not if Beckett can’t come with her.
I try my best not to think about what this means for me. I’m not ready to go back to the palace yet. I’m definitely not ready to go back to my mother’s iron rule. There’s still too much I need to learn about in the system. Things like the camps Ian and Max and Milla were sent to. And the assassination of my father, which was blamed on people who didn’t do it.
There’s no way my mother will tell me the truth about either. Or anything else, for that matter. For the good of Senestris, my ass.
But I should at least call her, let her know I’m okay. Find out if she’s the one who keeps trying to blow the Starlight—and everyone on her—to pieces.
“You can’t, Kali,” Ian says, clearly reading my mind as he comes to stand beside me. “At least not yet.”
He’s standing so close to me that I can feel the heat of his body from my shoulders to my toes. And he called me Kali, not Princess. “I know. Milla comes first.” For me, too, though I don’t tell him that.
He nods. “Yeah. Then we’ll get you home.”
His voice is devoid of emotion as he says it, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad one. Is he dying to get rid of me after last night, or does he actually want me to stick around?
I hate that I’m thinking like this, hate that I don’t know how to act around him now. I hate even more that I’m waiting to take my cue from him, as if his feelings are so much more important than mine—and I also hate that today of all days is when Gage figured out how to fix the comms. Couldn’t it have waited just another couple days, until Ian and I figured out what, if anything, is going on between us?
Basically, I hate everything this morning, which I would have said was impossible, considering how good I felt when I woke up. How could the energy from four fantastic orgasms turn into this emotional maelstrom?
“So, what’s the first thing you want to do with the working comms?” I ask Ian. He’s been on Gage’s ass about getting them up and running since the beginning.