The First She ✓

THIRTY SEVEN

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"That was... mothers, little Terran. Why did the fates bless me with you?" he rasped.

He was breathless, spent in more ways than one. His eyes consumed her face as her throat worked to drink the last gulps of his baby batter. The stream was never-ending. She didn't even want to think about what would happen when he spilled in her pussy. Surely, she'd drip for days.

Vrox took her desperate swallowing as a sign of distress. "Are you unwell?" he demanded, his yellow eyes paling with concern.

With the back of her hand, she wiped her chin and managed to get her swollen lips to smile.

The sight of her puffy lips brought an earthquake to his chest. He growled, cracking his control, and bent to sear those lips with a kiss. Before he met Kira, he had been sure that his favorite color was the pure white that blessed Ezron when it snowed. Now, it was the erotic pink of this female's lips.

The symbolization of the colors was as polar as their genders. A snowfall promised new beginnings, while pink warned of his end.

He single-handedly held her against his chest, using the other to reach out for a fur. He dabbed at her chin, neck, and top of her breasts while being mindful of his claws. He dipped the cloth into her cleavage, causing one of the luxurious mounds on her chest to surface. Kira shuddered from the cold but otherwise didn't seem to mind his exploration.

He stared at the blessing that Kira called a breast, watching the brown summit on the mountain peak. His knuckles tentatively skimmed her breast's underside. The contrast between his calloused hand and her silky skin was a sight to behold.

Kira shifted on his lap, and the slick between her thighs crackled, teasing her by hinting at the fireworks that Vrox could set off down there. She exhaled a scream of frustration, feeling tormented by the desire.

"You said that these are for babies?" he asked, words tarred with lust.

She chuckled, sending the breast swaying. "Yes, they feed babies."

"I don't understand," Vrox replied. "I am not a child, yet I have an urge to taste them."

She gasped, his words squeezing more lust out of her cherry.

"Vrox..." she drew out.

"Vrox," a voice with much more baritone called from the entrance.

He covered her chest and gently moved her off his lap. He then bent down to inhale her hair, feeling pure male satisfaction when he smelled himself on her.

"Vrox," Ni'ev called out again.

After covering himself, Vrox walked to the entrance.

"Rokan went out to get dinner. He should be back soon. The storm is clearing. Are you feeling better?"

"I have never felt better."

There was weight in his words, making Kira smile knowingly.

The men fell into a conversation about the camp's status, bringing up defense strategies that she didn't understand. She tuned out slightly, moving her gaze over the weapons that decorated the wall beside the bed. There were daggers and swords of all shapes and sizes, glinting with different metals. She had never seen a sword made out of gold before, or ones with grips made of jewels. Some of them were even engraved with a language that she couldn't read.

It appeared like while the locket's transmission allowed her to understand speech, it drew a line at reading.

"These look expensive," she told Vrox when she heard him approach.

"Zix, my father was a rich warrior."

She looked up with confusion. "Zix? That word does not translate."

"Zix means yes in another language," he answered as he sat beside her, staring at his wall. "Ezronian prime was used in the capital, but the language you know is Ezronian simplified. It is the most common of the two. I do not usually use Ezronian prime, but I suppose that the memories made me slip into it."

"Wow," she replied before pointing to a broadsword. "What does that say?"

Vrox's yellows swiped across the metal, quickly reading the engraving.

"May you bleed another day," he dictated. "It is a saying of good wishes."

"Vrox, get your ugly hide out here and help with the fire!" Rokan yelled from outside. "Kira, get your pretty hide out here too!"

Vrox mumbled promises of death as he helped her off the platformed bed.

"Can you walk?"

"Yes. Your medicine works wonders. I think I'll be running around camp tomorrow morning."

"No running," he grunted, taking her words seriously.

Kira smiled at Vrox's hopeless protectiveness.

They reached the outside. As Ni'ev had predicted, the storm had passed. She took a second to slide on Nebula's shoes, her shoulders falling with worry at the memory of her friend.

"Are you sure that Draekon will know to come here if he doesn't find us?"

"Yes," Vrox assured. "He will know that we are here."

With uncertainty in her fingertips, she followed Vrox to the middle of the camp, where Rokan and Kyros were piling wood.

"Finally, his majesty has arrived," Rokan joked.

"Do not be jealous that my family line is of higher standing than yours," Vrox teased back.

His words surged forward a thought. Kira's brows drew closer as pieces began to click together. She remembered everything Vrox had shared about his father– from his ability at the battlefield to his wealth.

"Vrox," she called out.

He dropped a log on the pile and looked at her.

"What is your family name?"

He shrugged before replying, "Ezron."

"Your family name is the name of the planet?"

He gave her a look as if he didn't understand what wasn't getting. "Yes. My family line is the oldest."

"What about Rokan and Kyros?"

"They are not my blood brothers. Their family name is M'Novarie."

"But if your family name is Ezron, that means..."

He gave her another shrug. "My father was the commander of our kind, the leader of Ezron."

Her jaw fell, thudding on the moist dirt.

Vrox was royalty? She just gave a blowjob to an alien prince?

The prince straightened, and then she saw it. Both he and Ni'ev were taller than Rokan and Kyros by a few inches. Vrox needed no crown on his head to declare his status because his body in itself was a crown.

He sat down on a log, turning to look at her when she remained standing.

"Female?"

She was unable to pick up her jaw.

"So Ak was meant to..."

"Yes. He is the crown prince, but he would have likely been challenged by the council within his first year as commander. His foul temper would have been his downfall."

"And then the title would pass down to Ni'ev," Kyros interjected. "But while Ak has too much temper, Ni'ev doesn't have enough. He is disinterested in everything."

Ni'ev remained quiet, proving his point.

"I thought you said that your father was a warrior?" she reminded Vrox, eyes mudded with confusion.

"He was. Now, come. I must feed you."

She sat beside him. While her tongue stopped producing questions, her mind continued to reel.