Page 53 of Wanted By the Alien Warden

I sighed without thinking. My breath coasted over her face, making stray hairs rustle across her forehead and cheeks. Her full lips tipped up at the corners, then parted.

I remembered seeing Cherry and Darcy kiss their husbands at their wedding ceremonies. I’d felt slightly intrigued but mostly baffled by the human custom.

I was not baffled now.

Now, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to taste Tasha’s slightly open mouth with mine. Her lips were so pink, plush and wet on the inside.

This was not helping the hard cock situation.

If I kept staring at her mouth and imagining putting my tongue inside there, I was going to ejaculate in my trousers. Which, of course, was unacceptable.

I stopped staring at her mouth, but then I was staring at her flushed cheeks, or the delicate shells of her eyelids, or that hair I longed to sift through my claws. It was all bad. Every bit of her was a perfect storm of warden-destroying temptation.

So I closed my eyes and did not look at any bit of her.

This proved to be wise, as not long afterwards, she stirred. I knew the moment she left sleep’s safety and enteredconsciousness, because the previously languorous quality of her limbs immediately evacuated the premises, leaving her rigid and breathing shallowly.

“Fuck.”

I feigned sleep, figuring that my wakefulness would not help now. I kept my breaths deep and even.

Now, it was Tasha’s turn to disentangle herself from me without causing me to wake. She seemed to think that this current entanglement of our positioning was her fault. She didn’t shout in anger or demand that I remove my hands from her.

No, like a convict herself, one who had something to hide from her warden, she slithered out from under my arm, pushed it back to my side, and then hurried from the tent.

When she was gone, I breathed out, wretched and ragged.

Then, I shoved my hand down my pants.

I hesitated, my heated organ trapped in my fist. Was I really going to do this? Was I really this weak? So weak that I was going to stroke myself to climax, alone and pining for the human who’d just left me here?

Yes. Yes I was.

Perhaps it was not simple weakness, I reasoned as my hand jerked powerfully. Perhaps I was just weak for her.

I wasn’t sure that was any better. But it certainly felt truer.

Quick. I’d have to be quick. Who knew when she’d be back? I could only imagine what she’d think if she found me now with my hand in my trousers while I huffed the last remnants of her scent from the bedding.

I didn’t need to force myself to be quick, though. A few rough pumps of my fist and I was already there, already pulsing with that hot edge of release. My stiff flesh jumped in my hand. My cock tail spasmed and writhed. Beneath it all, my sack drew tight, contracting with pleasure.

I barely pulled down my pants and wrenched the bed roll out of the way in time. Choking back a groan, I painted the dirt with the glistening ropes of my desire. The mess I made swam before my throbbing vision. My lungs burned.

With a raspy grunt, I covered the seed I’d spilled with loose dirt. I shoved myself back into my pants.

Then, I got to work packing the bedroll and swiftly taking down the tent so that Tasha would never see what I’d done.

17

TASHA

Warden Tenn and I got ready for the day and ate in relative silence. I wasn’t sure if he was simply responding to my lack of conversation, or if he had his own stuff on his mind. Whatever it was, we were both quiet as we prepared to head out for our day of travel on the slicer.

Well, outwardly quiet, anyway.

Inside? I was a screaming, hysterical mess.

Thank God Warden Tenn hadn’t woken up before I’d left the tent. Jesus Christ, I’d practically climbed the man in my sleep! I was using his palm as a cushion! My very own purple, personal travel pillow!

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