“Are you disgusted by my lack of hair? I have plenty on my head, but I do not have any anywhere else.”
He looks distraught at the idea, and I realize how ridiculous I’m being.
“No, I was wondering if you thought I was gross because I had hair down there.”
“I cannot get enough of your hair down there,” he repeats gravely.
“I don’t like it when you say it like that,” I say with a laugh, shaking my head.
His cock jerks, and we both groan. It shouldn’t feel so good against my skin, and it’s not as if my chest has ever really been an erogenous zone other than my nipples, but man, there’s something about the way we feel against each other that’s just?—
I rub my chest against him.
He moves his finger back to my neck, pushing gently. “Are you going to tease me, or are you going to do this?”
While there’s fire in the question, his eyes are gentle and kind, and I know with all the fiber of my being and completecertainty that if I told him I changed my mind, that I wasn’t interested anymore, he would stop. And he wouldn’t be angry with me; he wouldn’t be resentful like other men I’ve been with.
There’s a care in this moment that makes my heart ache with the purity of it, in spite of this is one of the least pure situations I’ve been in. Intergalactic reality TV, being forced to mate with an alien? Yeah, not exactly pure of intention.
“You don’t think they’re recording the inside of this, are they?” I ask, suddenly terrified as everything we’ve done together comes crashing back to me.
“Of course not,” he says. “Didn’t you read the clause about sexual encounters not being televised in your contract? Do they show things like this on your planet?”
“Well,” I say slowly, “usually the things that are on TV are blurred out, but, you know, they happen and they make all kinds of suggestive noises. Or it’s like a pay-per-month situation on the darker corners of the internet.”
“Are you nervous, my sweet Lily?” he asks, sitting up on his elbows.
I miss the way the weight of his hand felt on my head and neck as he pushed me down.
“Why would I be nervous?” I say cockily. “I’m about to blow your mind.”
“Are we back to that, then?” he says, sighing a little bit, a hint of something I can’t identify flitting through his eyes before they tighten again, his mouth a smirk as he readjusts his hand on my shoulder. “Then drink up, little human, because I have the only thing that you need.”
Pure lust roars through me, and I can feel my body ratcheting up in preparation. But not for the blowjob I’m planning—because I need him. I need him somewhere besides my mouth, I need him to fill me up completely.
But he won’t do that unless I know that I want to be with him.
I push the thought from my mind—the thought of forever, the thought of what if we don’t get off this goddamn space station. I push all those thoughts aside, and focus on the one thing I can control.
Making sure that he feels good. Making sure that he knows that I’m the one in charge here, not him.
I sink down slowly, savoring the heated way he watches me from heavy, hooded eyes. His wings fan out slowly as I look at the tip of his cock, precum already dribbling out.
It tastes fucking delicious, which is bizarre, but I don’t want to worry about that either. I don’t want to think about anything other than how I feel and the way he’s looking at me right now and how I have him in the palm of my hand.
I’m the one in control.
I look further down, and his cock is huge. There’s literally no way I can give him this blowjob the way I’m used to, especially not with the fact that it’s doing that sky-thing he was talking about, pulsing strangely.
Frankly, it’s slightly off-putting to have a cock do that in your mouth, but the noises he’s making, the way that his taloned hand is flexing along my shoulders as he tries to keep control, is gratifying enough that I can look past it. Or more accurately, I can lick past it.
That’s about all I can do.
Before long, I figure out what he likes, and I work my hands along the length of him, licking and sucking where I can. I reach one hand down to his balls, heavy and full of his cum, and I begin to gently massage them as I work his hot length.
His hands are heavy on my shoulders, the tips of his talons pricking my skin as he groans, practically whimpering my name. He tells me I’m his female, that I’m a good little human, that he wants to fill me up. That he can’t wait to pin me down and take me.
And as he talks himself through his own orgasm, I feel one of mine building in return.
