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When I pull back to look at her, she has that spark in her eyes once more, the one she gets when she is ready to challenge me.
“Take my pants off.”
I huff out a breath. This female…
“Keep your pants on. Take mine off,” she orders, and I snatch her hand away from me and press it into the couch above her head, burying my face in her neck so that she won’t see my smile and think that I’m laughing at her again.
If there ever was an order I could accept with humility and grace…
I drag my tongue along her throat, following the line of diamonds draped across her skin before biting lightly at her shoulder.
“You should know,” I growl, my voice sounding deeper even to my own ears now, “that you may stop me whenever you wish. However.” I roll my hips firmly against her, and when I nudge her earlobe with my nose, I revel in the way her breath shudders. “I will do everything in my power to ensure that you do not wish it.”
“Jesus Christ…” she whispers, and the hand that isn’t pinned to the couch jerks up to press into my back. “Jesus Christ, Vahadr, if you don’t start touching me right now, I’m going to do it myself.”
I hitch in a breath and then I’m kneeling between her thick thighs, and she’s lifting her hips as I tug her pants off with one quick motion.
And now she is only in her lacy black panties.
I am going to take this slow, I think, and then I immediately tilt down to press my lips directly over her entrance.
That is not slow.
She gasps and her hands snap up into my hair, holding me close as if I might leave—as if there is any place in the galaxy I would rather be.
Being this close to her is doing things to me that I can’t control. Her scent, her heat, the feel of her fingers in my hair and her hips shifting beneath me… I almost moan myself when I prod my tongue against her and hear her make a strangled cry.
I pull back just enough that the heat of my breath will ghost against her and look up, tugging lightly at the lace of her undergarments. If she is anything like a Zvezdi female, this friction alone should be enough. And it is. Her neck arches and her eyes stare up, wide with what seems like surprise. I tug again at the material, and again, and shift myself up so that I can press a kiss to her soft stomach.
“Ana,” I mumble into her bellybutton as I hook a finger over the lace, even as I continue my rhythmic tugging.
“Yes,” she moans, and tries to press herself into my hand. “Take them off.”
So enthusiastic.
I smile even as I run my tongue up over her abdomen and snatch away her undergarments, unsure if I have ever been so very pleased to be with a female as I am now. But when I dip one finger experimentally between her now naked thighs, all thoughts leave me.
She is wet and hot and—mine.
I take in a slow, deep breath and feel myself harden further. When I slide my finger back up along her entrance, my mind is nothing more than a static buzz that centers on Ana.
She has a small mound near the top that is similar to a Zvezdi female’s most sensitive pleasure point, although it feels a little bit different, and when I allow the pad of my now wet finger to graze against it, she chokes out a desperate gasp that lights my every sense on fire.
I rear back into a kneel between her thighs and push one of her knees back, spreading her to my sight while her other leg remains pressed against the side of the couch.
“You are beautiful,” I whisper.
Where a Zvezdi female has a single flat expanse of skin dipping into a slit, Ana has several puffy folds that surround her entrance, soft and slightly reddened, a deeper caramel than the rest of her flesh and glistening with her desire for me, begging to be kissed—and I do not think I could resist if my life depended on it.
When I grip her between both my hands and press my face against her, hauling her hips up to meet me, her entire being seizes up at the contact. The choked, shocked, desperate cry that tears its way from her throat vibrates straight through me, straight to my cock, and I cannot think, I cannot feel anything but her wet heat on my tongue.
I am a starved male, starved for her, and my eyes slip shut as I sling one thigh over my shoulder and I tongue her slit, taste her sweet mound, and the way she moans and curls her hips against my face as if she cannot help herself…
My breath is ragged, my desire for her strong. I press down into her, clutching her hips firmly with one hand and her thigh in my other.
“V-Vahadr!” she calls out, her voice breathy and desperate and wild. “I—I’m going to—”
A moan slips out of me as her walls contract around my tongue, and I wonder, briefly, if I could ever get enough of her sweetness.
