Page 58 of Love Galaxy

Sitting up, I reach for him, running my fingertip around the edge of his long slit, examining in close detail exactly how all this works. Maybe, if I were to lick…

Sorin’s hips thrust forward, and he bites back a groan, his upper hands reach for me even as he tucks his lower hands behind his back, evidently trying to restrain himself as much as he can.

“Harder.” He bites out the word between clenched teeth, and his voice is hoarse with tension.

“Harder?” I press two fingers to one edge of the slit. It opens a fraction, and I catch a glimpse of the tip of his cock. It’s leaking pre-cum already.

“Harder.” But he grabs my wrist, like he’s going to tug my hand away. His eyes are pressed tightly closed, and a muscle jumps in his cheek.

“Hey, hey.” I tug him down, until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, then push on his shoulders. He could easily resist me, but he doesn’t and instead lies down, his legs dangling over the edge.

I straddle his thighs, trailing my fingertips across the tight muscles of his stomach. If I listen closely enough, I can actually hear the softtap tap tapof my nails over his scales.

“Relax. You’ve got all the time in the world.”

“I am not going to last nearly that long.” He arches his back as my fingers return to his slit. I push harder this time, and it reminds me of popping the seal on a jar. His cock thrusts out, clearly determined not to miss its chance. It arches proudly toward his stomach, absolutely delectable looking.

My cheeks ache with how much I’m smiling. Which is when I realize I’m still wearing my panties. I yank them down, but they get caught around my knees. I’m hurrying so much that I’m fumbling.

Sorin grabs the fabric in two hands and tears. The lace splits at the seams, falling away. I’m too desperate to give a fuck about the waste, and I’m lining him up with my pussy before I’ve even thought about how we’re going to make everything fit.

Sorin’s not a small man. Like the opposite of small. I can’t touch the tip of my thumb to the tip of my longest fingers. And we might’ve gotten pretty handsy over the past ten days, but it’s been years since I’ve actually taken anyone inside.

I bite my lower lip, as I sink down. It’s painstakingly slow, and I’ve got to keep adjusting the angle, rolling my hips. Still, it feels amazing. Especially when he slips a hand between my folds, finding my clit.

“Fucking hell.” My back arches, and when my knees almost lose their ability to hold me up, I slip down several more inches. The stretch is real. On the verge of being painful, but somehow that only magnifies the pleasure, and suddenly my orgasm is ripping through me.

My vision blurs. I’m a human-shaped bundle of nerve endings. I’m a waterfall. I’m floating on the clouds.

I’m panting and shaking, and I might be blabbering about how much I love him. Or perhaps that’s all happening in my head. It’s hard to keep track of reality when you’re losing your fucking mind. As my internal muscles undulate, I slip down farther, and after that it’s a smooth ride, until I’m sitting flush with his hips.

Sorin’s got his eyes closed again, and his mouth is silently moving, like he’s trying to distract himself to keep from coming. I kind of wish I could’ve lasted more than half a fucking millisecond. Then I remember that I’m a woman, and thatwomen can have multiple orgasms, and I’m suddenly feeling greedier than ever.

I lean forward, pressing kisses to any and all of Sorin I can reach. I luxuriate over him, loving how strong he is. Loving how I never have to worry I’m going to squash him. If anyone’s going to be doing the squashing, it’s going to be him.

“Flip,” I demand, digging a finger into his chest to get his attention.

“What?” His eyes flutter open. He’s holding his jaw so tightly he can barely speak.

“Flip us over. I want every inch of me to be consumed by you.”

There’s another pause in which he’s probably waiting for his brain to process what I’ve said. Then he flips us with precision, so I’m lying on my back and he’s over me. The movement causes his cock to slide out a little, signaling the beginning of the end.

He touches a hand to my cheek. “Beautiful.”

“Yeah?” I’m greedy: I want to hear him say it again.

“Yes. So very beautiful, Briar.” Suddenly he’s a machine, his hips thrusting as if he’s trying to make up for lost time. It’s the slap of flesh against flesh. The creaking of bed springs. The bang of the headboard hitting the wall. It’s music.

Then his whole body is tensing, and without even having to be asked, he pulls out. I grab his cock in two hands, pumping, and he comes in long spurts, gushing over my fingers, painting our stomachs in cum, the best and most beautiful interactive artwork I’ve ever seen.

“Briar.” Sorin rolls to the side as he falls onto the mattress, narrowly avoiding falling onto me, and I settle against him, his shoulder as my pillow. “Briar.” The way he says my name reminds me of a prayer, and he slips one thick thigh between my legs.

“Oh!” My eyes widen, as he rubs his smooth scales against my lubricated clit. He’s the right mix of firm yet malleable muscle, and each of his circular scales has just enough of a bump to them that it feels a little like I’m humping an obliging foam massage roller. I grind against him, shameless in my chase, and then I’m falling over the finish line, safe in the circle of his arms.

It’s a long time before either of us speaks. All I can think about is how wonderful I feel and how much of an idiot I was for taking so long to realize I could never leave. Ril II is my new home, for better or worse.

There might not be any coffee shops, and I’m never going to eat takeout again. But what I do have is infinitely more special. Real friends and family. Meaningful work on the farm. A beautiful, rustic home.

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