Page 17 of Taken By the Alien Siren King

My hips bucked against him involuntarily. “Like I need more.”

“More what?” he asked, his voice a low growl as he pulled back to look at me. His mouth moved to my other breast, lavishing it with the same attention.

“More of you,” I admitted, my fingers finding the knot of his own wrap. “More of this.”

His smile was wicked as he stepped back, just out of reach. “Not yet. First, I want to know exactly what I do to you.” His hands found the remaining knot of my wrap and tugged, sending the fabric pooling around my feet. “Do you feel it now, Emme?”

I stood naked before him, fighting the urge to cover myself. His gaze swept over my exposed breasts, down my belly. My nipples tightened under the intensity of his attention, and my cheeks flushed despite the cool air against my skin.

He circled me slowly, his fingers trailing over my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When he stood behind me, his chest pressed against my back, I could feel the hard ridge of his cock through the thin fabric of his wrap. His hands slid around to cup my breasts, thumbs teasing my nipples as his mouth found the curve of my shoulder.

“Tell me,” he murmured against my skin.

“I feel...” I arched into his touch, my head falling back against his shoulder. “Like I’m melting from the inside out.”

One hand traveled lower, fingers splaying across my stomach before dipping between my thighs. I gasped as he found the slick heat there, his touch feather-light against my pussy.

“You’re drenched,” he growled, his teeth grazing my earlobe. “Is that for me?”

“Yes,” I breathed, beyond denying it. Beyond caring about anything but the need coursing through me. “Please.”

His fingers circled my clit with maddening precision, never quite giving the pressure I craved. “Tell me what you feel when I touch you here.”

“Like I’m going to explode,” I groaned, my hips moving of their own accord, seeking more friction. “Like I can’t think straight.”

“Good.” His other hand pinched my nipple, the slight pain mixing with pleasure in a heady cocktail. “I don’t want you thinking at all.”

I wanted to argue, but his fingers dipped lower, teasing my entrance. I whimpered as he thrust one finger slowly into my pussy, his thumb circling my clit. The invasion stretched me open, but my body welcomed him eagerly, already flutteringwith the promise of release. His teeth scraped the junction of my neck and shoulder, then bit down harder as he added a second finger.

“What do you feel now?” he asked, his voice rough with need.

“I feel...” My hips rolled against him, chasing that perfect combination of pleasure and pain. With his free arm wrapped around me, there was nowhere to go, nothing to do except take whatever he gave me. “Like I need more than just your fingers.”

In one fluid motion, he spun me away from the window and backed me toward the bed. The back of my knees hit the edge, and I tumbled onto the soft surface. I watched, mesmerized, as he tore at the twists and tucks holding his linen together.

His cock sprang free, thick and hard, curving slightly upward. It was similar enough to human anatomy to be familiar, yet different in subtle ways, the head slightly more tapered, the shaft adorned with faint ridges that I knew would feel incredible inside me.

“You’re staring,” he said, amusement coloring his voice.

“You’re worth staring at,” I replied, reaching for him.

He stepped between my spread thighs, his hands cradling my face as he bent to kiss me. This kiss was different from the others—slower, deeper, a promise rather than a demand.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched mine. “The song doesn’t lie, Emme. But it doesn’t force, either. We choose what to do with it.”

I reached up, fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “And what if I choose this? Just this, for now?”

He pressed closer, until I could feel the vibration of his words against my lips. “Then I’ll make sure you feel every note.”

I let my hand trail down his chest, over the ridges of his abdomen, until my fingers wrapped around his cock. He hissed in pleasure as I stroked him, learning the feel of him, the weight in my palm.

“And what do you feel,” I asked, turning the question back on him, “when I touch you here?”

His eyes snapped open, surprise and heat mingling in his gaze. “Like I’m being unmade,” he admitted with a strained laugh. “Like I’m going to embarrass myself if you keep that up.”

Power surged through me at his confession. I leaned forward to press my lips against the spot where his neck met his shoulder, mimicking what he’d done to me earlier. “And here?”

A growl rumbled through his chest. “Like I need to claim you. Now.”

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