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“I can retract them,” he assures me softly.
Thank God for that.
He makes good on his word and the sharpness is suddenly gone, taking some of the terror along with them.
“Too rough, slow down,” I tell him, emboldened now that I’m not afraid he’ll hurt me.
“This will help,” he says as he strokes me from within.
“Not if you’re trying to turn me on. You’re being too rough. Go slower, a little softer.” I take a deep breath, but it’s like trying to inhale soup. I have to do this. “Like this.”
I reach down my own hand and cup his strange, bony fingers and show him how to stroke me to life. On the outside. Pulling his fingers out of my body, I guide his hand to the spot that will help me feel good. His claws have indeed disappeared and it’s just his firm fingers touching me now.
I can’t watch him, can’t watch what I’m doing, but he’s a quick learner and soon brushes my hand away to take over. And God, now that he knows what I need, he strums me like it’s his only goal in life. Like I’m a mist of flora and he wants to consume every bit of me.
There’s only so much resisting I can do when I’ve been surrounded by so much stress. The siren call of pleasure is irresistible. The commander hums in his throat, pleased. His fingers push inside of me briefly, much easier this time, and he quickly pulls them back out.
Now that he’s satisfied by my readiness, he aligns with my entrance and pushes his cock inside of me. I raise up on my forearms to turn back and look at him, but he isn’t even watching me. His head is thrown back, cheeks flushed—if you can imagine that, considering his complexion. He doesn’t sweat, but that same odd flush is spreading over his chest.
The foreplay was pleasurable enough to get me ready to take the bulbous head of his dick, but I know it’s the thick length that will be the real challenge. Despite his overall brash attitude, Commander Breccan has incredible patience. He slowly thrusts back and forth, inch by inch, until he’s seated inside me.
I don’t know what to feel—and for the first time in my life, I don’t know how to act. I settle on numb. Numb means whatever happens to me won’t affect me. Especially not the fact that I’ve never been so filled in my life.
He reaches up to palm my breasts again, his claws back out and gently scraping against my flesh. I gasp at how sensitive I’ve become. At my sound, Breccan slides his palms to my hips and pumps into me harder, his prized control snapping. He thrusts wildly, and even if I were the best actress on the planet, I wouldn’t have been able to act like that thick cock spearing into me doesn’t affect me. He reaches a place in me I’ve never felt before, and it tears animal sounds from my chest with each thrust.
He obviously has no problem enjoying it. But I won’t. I breathe through it as long as I can, focusing on everything but the way he moves in and out of me. He takes longer than I thought he would to come, but when he does, I breathe a sigh of relief.
Until the heat of his semen spurts inside me, and I lose the ability to move at all.
5
Breccan
My toxica has entered her bloodstream. I know the moment it happens because my stiff alien relaxes and falls against the bed. A whimper in her throat is the only indication of her distress.
I must work fast to remedy this.
Not even stopping to towel off my cock, I sit on the bed and pull her limp body into my arms. Our species, when breeding, have toxins that are released with our semen that immobilize the female and create a barrier within her to keep the male’s seed from spilling out. Those first few moments are critical if implantation is to occur.
“Breathe, little alien,” I murmur, running a clawed finger along her hairline, pulling stray strands from her eyes. Her brown eyes are wide and keep darting all around. She’s panicking. I should call Avrell to bring something to calm her but I can’t risk introducing anything foreign into her body while she’s taking my seed.
I will have to calm her the old way. The way of my people. I’ve heard plenty of stories of females growing terrified their first time. And if I’m being frank with myself, I believe I’d be quite unhappy if the first time I bred with someone, I couldn’t move a muscle.
She’s nearly completely paralyzed.
And will be for quite some time.
It would behoove her to take a nap.
Her wild eyes that remind me so much of Draven’s indicate otherwise. A nap is far from what’s on her agenda.
