The Scorpion's Mate (Iriduan Test Subjects, #1)

by Susan Trombley

He stared down at the water, his pincers slowly opening and closing, their reflection dancing on the nearly opaque, foamy surface. “You remind me of home. Of my freedom. I would do anything for you.”

“My mate feels good in my clasper arms. Not as good as when I am inside you, or when you taste me, but I like holding you. I want to carry you.”

“You are the flower with the sweetest nectar that is worth risking the thorns.”

“Do you ever miss the before-time?” His upper hands stroked over my hair. “No. You weren’t there.”