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He lit up, shooting a glance up her body. “Reciprocating.”
She shot to her elbows. “Do you understand me?”
With an insistent tug, he yanked her flat on her back. She felt his breath on her cunt, sending shivery waves through every limb. “I do.”
“You know Engl—Ahhn!”
Her question was cut off as he buried his tongue inside her, digging his fingers into the softness of her hips. She felt that hot appendage swirling against her oversensitized flesh. He went at her with such concentrated persistence that she was bowing hard against the bed and out of her mind in seconds. She clutched at his shoulder plates as he brought her to an almost painful orgasm. She yelled out words that were neither English nor Ternetzi.
Then he was trying to fit his entire fist inside her. “Oh my god, Caligher!” she squealed as he pushed his curled knuckle against her spasming entrance. “What are you doing?!”
It was on her tongue to tell him to stop—but then his bioluminescence kicked in, drowning them in spectral dark blue light, and the devilish expression on his face quelled her protests.
“I want to see how much I can fit inside you,” he said, gazing up at her with worrisome intent.
“That issocrude, Caligher. Why?”
His stare turned dangerously speculative. “Eventually we might have babies.”
She covered her blazing face with both palms. Jesus Christ, his mouth was only getting worse. Her womb was dancing with primal, lizard-brain glee as her mind blared off alarms.This man wants children.
“I don’t want kids,” she said.
“No?” His grin was practically a weapon—as if he could use his masculine charms and sheer persistence to convince her otherwise. He bent to lick his dark tongue over her folds, lazily holding her stare.
That is so fucking lewd. Yet her body was rising in temperature, burning like the sun. And he continued trying to bury his fist.
“I would not be a good mother.” She wanted to be in space, flying around, not worrying about feeding a helpless little person and changing diapers. The spaceship was her child.
“We will discuss this after I have gauged how much I can fit inside you,” he said, giving another deep shove that made her shudder.
“Is that really necessary?” she hissed. It seemed like he was making it up simply for the hell of it. He wanted to fist her now? His fists werenotsmall.
Rather than answering, he banded an arm over her stomach to hold her in place, and concentrated on the task with unremitting patience. Her mind fell prey to the haze. It was too early for this—and perhaps that was the point. Within minutes, that concerning pressure became an addiction.
The hardness of his knuckle sent ripples up her spine and to her toes. She felt them curling, felt herself melting, her mind noisily calculating—insisting it would never fit.
But he never let up.
And she felt that moment where she still could not fathom his whole hand fitting—and yet.
And yet...
His fist breeched the tightness of her muscles at last, his eyes sharpening with intense satisfaction. Her sharp gasp echoed in the darkness.
So… full.
She was so incredibly full.
With slow, carefully measured movements, he brought her to the peak of one of the strangest orgasms of her life. Lucca’s overwrought body was on fire, trembling hard around him. She felt herself transcending from her own skin, grounded only on the inescapable feel of him. His fist. His voice. His arm banding her in place as he sent her to the stars.
When he finally released her, she lay panting in the sheets, feeling as if he’d stretched her inside out. The lingering ache buzzed pleasantly in her blood as the sweat coating her body cooled.
She caught her breath and glared at him. “I swear, Cal, you’d better give me that translator or I’m going to find out what I can fit inside your little alien asshole next.” She didn’t have a giant fist like his, but she’d been alone on the spaceship for a good, long time. She knew how to improvise.
He stood in the room, bringing on the low floor lights and looking mighty pleased. A grin was plastered to his face. “Spend the day without it, and I will give it to you.”
“Why?” It was barely the crack of dawn according to her internal clock, and he’d already worn her out.
