Perfect. I grin.
He tracks my finger, his eyes widening as he realizes exactly what I'm proposing.
Without a word, not that I would understand it, he scoops me into his arms and scoots backwards, ducking into me as he narrowly avoids snagging his wings on the overhanging brambles.
The sound of the drone fades into the distance. Finally.
Alone I’m too aware of him. Of how much I need him. Of how much of mess I might just be in—and how much I want to not think about that part at all.
The heat radiating off his skin is intense.
I don't waste time. I’ve never wasted time, not ever. When I want something, I go for it.
Why should this be any different?
I reach down and unfasten the heavy buckles of his waistband. He doesn't stop me, though his huge hands tremble as I slide the strange leather down his hips.
My breath stutters.
Holy shit.Up close, his dick is a work of art—a deep red-violet color, entirely smooth, pulsing with a bizarre motion that sends a wave of liquid heat straight to my core. I tilt my head, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. It’s not pulsing, not really.
It reminds me of one of those massage chairs at those nail salons that have the roller balls that I always pretended felt good while they massacred my back muscles.
Though I don’t think I would have to pretend this would feel good inside me. Whew. I blow out another breath, trying to figure out the mechanics of this.
Since we can't actually communicate, I resort to pointing.
There’s a lot to point at there.
I look up into his golden eyes, point a finger at my mouth, and then point directly at his pulsing red dick.
That should get the point across. Hopefully.
He goes totally still, his eyes huge as he stares at me. It’s like he’s almost afraid to breathe. He points back to my mouth, his chest heaving.
A fresh bead of moisture spills over the tip before I even touch him. I lean forward, and his finger grazes my lip, sending a thrill of heat through me.
“Like this,” I say, pointing to his cock as I press his finger into my mouth. My eyes flutter closed, because eventhisis ecstasy in my amped-up state.
I pull away, and his finger, which is ridiculously huge, honestly, leaves my mouth with a satisfying pop.
He’s watching me with rapt attention, and I smile at devotion on his face. Well, maybe not devotion, not yet. But interest? Yeah. My alien is absolutely into what I’m offering.
I tilt my head again, give my lashes a little flutter—maybe she’s born with it, maybe I had them dyed last week—and point to his dick again, which is doing things I’ve never seen a dick do before, and then to my mouth.
“Like theees,” my alien says, pointing at his dick, and then at my lips.
My cheeks suck in as I bite them, doing my best not to laugh out loud at his very enthusiastic blow job consent. I lean down and take him into my mouth.
And that’s enough to keep me from laughing, because my alien is more than a mouthful. That, and the taste of his cum hasmy body going into overdrive. The flavor of it explodes across my tongue, and the earthy, salty taste actually is… enjoyable.
I don’t know if that’s a result of whatever the hell is coursing through my blood or because it actually tastes good, but I’ll take it, damn it.
My skin feels too tight, sweat dampening my slip as I work my lips up and down his thick, hot length. My own lower half throbbing so hard it aches, but the groans vibrating out of my alien’s chest make it so, so worth it.
His fingers flex gently in my hair, his talons pricking my scalp with unbelievable, careful tenderness.
I have him completely at my mercy.
