Page 42 of Alien Healer’s Mate

“Kellat,” she gasped. “Please. I’m going to⁠—“

“Come for me.” The order was deep and absolute. “Come for me, Delilah. Now.”

She shattered, clamping down around his fingers. Her back arched off the bed, as she cried out, his name torn from her throat. But he didn’t stop. Instead, he worked her through it, until she thought she might die from sheer pleasure.

When the last tremor faded, she lay there, her breathing ragged and her skin slick. He pulled his fingers free, and brought them to his mouth. Holding her gaze, he licked them clean.

She reached for him, her hand finding his cock. He was huge, thick and heavy, her fingers barely closing around him, and she stroked him, learning the shape and weight of him. He groaned, hips pushing into her grip.

“Delilah.” Her name was a rough sound in his throat, almost a plea.

She kept stroking him, thumb sliding over the head, watching his face. His eyes were closed, his jaw tight as his breath came in short, ragged bursts.

He pulled her hand away and pulled her up with him. Turning her, he bent her over the edge of the bed. She braced her hands on the mattress, her back arched as she looked over her shoulder. He stepped in behind her, his hands settling on her hips as the head of his cock pressed against her. She froze a little. Even though she knew she could take him, he still felt absolutely huge.

“Slow,” he murmured. “I’ll go slow. I promise, kelarris.”

She nodded, and he pushed inside, inch by inch. The stretch was intense, almost too much, and her breath left her in a long, shuddering gasp. He rocked gently, working himself into her little by little. Her body opened for him, taking him deeper until he was buried to the hilt.

He held still a moment, and she felt every inch of him, thick and hard, throbbing within her. Taking a breath, she dropped her head, getting used to the feel of him within her again.

Then he began to move. The rhythm was slow at first, a deep, slow thrust that hit nerve endings she didn’t know she had. Her knuckles whitened as she mangled the covers in her hands.

“Harder,” she demanded, her voice rough. “I won’t break.”

He growled, his grip tightening as his thrusts grew harder and faster. The air in the room filled with the sound of his hips slapping against her ass, punctuated by her soft moans and his deeper groans.

The pleasure started building again, coiling in her belly, but it wouldn’t crest. It just wound tighter and tighter, then stopped halfway. She whimpered in frustration.

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” he murmured as he pulled out.

Turning her over, he laid her back on the bed, bracing himself over her on his elbows, and looked into her eyes.

Face to face. Held like she was his. Like she was something precious and special.

Something cracked wide open in her chest, and she bit her lip, eyes on his as he pushed inside her again. This was different. This time he was looking at her, his eyes locked on her face, and she could see everything in them. The hunger, the want, and underneath them something she was too afraid to name.

He began to move, slow and deep, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She lifted her lips to his and kissed him while he moved inside her. Her tongue slid against his as she brought a hand up to cup his jaw. His thrusts grew harder, more urgent, but when she pulled back, the look in his eyes hadn’t changed.

She came without warning, a cry torn from her as the world went white. He followed a heartbeat later, releasing a guttural roar against the side of her throat. His cock jerked and pulsed within her, throbbing as he came hard and fast within her.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. He stayed inside her, his weight pressing her into the mattress, his breath rough against her throat. She held on, arms wrapped around his back, and let herself pretend that this was real and he was hers.

Then he pulled out and rolled off her. The cold air hit her skin where his body had been, and she shivered, lying there staring at the ceiling as she listened to him get up. There was the rustle of leather and the soft click of fastenings.

She turned her head to find him dressed and standing by the door.

“I have work,” he said, his voice low and… absent, professional. Like he wasn’t even in the room with her anymore. “The case files from the conference. I need to review them before morning.”

Of course. The case files.

“Sure.” Her voice came out bright. She’d spent twenty years learning how to sound bright when she was falling apart. “Go do your doctor thing.”

He turned, and for a heartbeat his eyes met hers. There was an expression in them she couldn’t work out, but before she could, he frowned, and it was gone. Nodding, he turned and stepped through the door.

The sound of the door sliding shut was the loudest sound she’d ever heard.

She lay there and stared at the ceiling, the hollowness in her chest so big she thought she might disappear into it.