Page 24 of Evan and the Alpha

8

Evan

Itouch the bruises around my neck gently. Last night’s bruising is still coming up, layered fresh on top of the older marks, which are just barely starting to fade. I’m mottled purple and blue everywhere. I almost look like a kroakka.

I’m still trembling with the thought of last night. I’ve never asked for that before. Sure, I’ve thought about it—getting railed, getting choked. I never thought I’d actually have the guts to ask for it.

Or that I really wanted it that bad. But I did. I do.

I’m already rising at the thought of maybe getting Sobek to fuck me again. I think I want him to take me on my knees next time, just bend me over and fuck me like a dog.

I’m not sure Sobek will understand that reference. Do they even have dogs here?

I have to crawl back to bed. I fell asleep pretty much right after I finished—I’m still exhausted. I feel like Sobek wrung every drop of pleasure out of me. I ache everywhere.

And still, I want more. I want him to fuck me again and again. It’s all I can think about right now as I drag myself back under the covers, settling down in the furs next to the alpha.

My alpha. Part of me—that little rational part of me that I silenced so effectively last night—wonders if I’ve lost my marbles. Maybe all the desert heat, the loneliness of space. I mean, really, an alien alpha? What the hell is wrong with me?

I cuddle right up to Sobek—he’s vaguely warm, not cold like one would expect a crocodile to be—and he wraps an arm around me, crushes me against him in his sleep. I wriggle with pleasure, my half-hard cock dragging against his belly, getting harder. Fuck, what is wrong with me? I’ve never been this needy.

Like I told Sobek, I’ve never had a boyfriend. A couple of friends with benefits sort of arrangements. Casual shit. But no one who ever really wanted to invest the time in me. Long-term was never in the cards in those relationships, and I knew that going in.

Still sucked when they ended. I always end up feeling like I’m not good enough or something. I guess that makes me the fool—I know what I’m getting into, and I still go in hoping that, like, the sex will be so mind-blowing or something, they’ll just have to stick around.

Maybe that’s why I’ve never been able to voice my desires in bed. I know they don’t really care. I know they’re not going to stick around, so why show them my deepest, darkest wants? Probably just make them leave faster.

I guess that’s it. I’ve always been afraid that if I show themme, I’ll send them running in the opposite direction. Kinda like my fourth-grade crush. They’ll call me gross and push me away.

I don’t know why, but I don’t have that fear with Sobek. If anything, I should be more afraid. I’m from a totally different planet; if anyone is going to think I’m gross and weird and fucked up, it’s Sobek. At least other humans stand half a chance at understanding a human.

Except they don’t ever seem to. Sobek’s an alien, but he seems to get me more than most people I’ve met. Maybe it’s just because he expects not to really get it. Because he knows we’re so different and he can just chalk it up to humans being weird. Or something.

I don’t really know. I do know it feels nice to be held in his arms, nice to press my face against his bare skin, and feel safe. Sobek’s not gonna let me go, no matter how weird and fucked up I am.

My stomach twists unpleasantly. He did try to sell me, that annoying rational part of me says.

That was before, I reason. Before I confessed my feelings to him. Before he claimed me.

I don’t think he can let me go now. I don’t think he wants to.

His eyes crack open to slits as I writhe against him. There are about three effective ways to deal with morning wood—cold shower, jerking off, and getting fucked.

I know which one I want.

Sobek’s eyes open more fully and he peers around the room. The south sun’s just starting to come up over the horizon, chasing away the shadows. We have a bit of time before we need to go to the market.

I press myself tight against him. His hand slides lower, grabbing my ass. “Morning,” I say as breathily as I can, doing my best to be sexy. I sound like a fucking frog though. My voice is still wrecked from last night.

“Good morning,” Sobek drawls, a chuckle infusing his words. “You’re up early.”

“Mmhmm.” I rub myself against him more insistently. He smells good. Really good. It’s all I can smell—I mean, aside from the musky scent of sex everywhere in the room.

“Are all humans like this?” There’s a hint of teasing in his voice.

“Like what?”

He rolls me onto my back, pinning my wrists above my head. “Wanton,” he whispers in my ear, and I buck my hips.