Page 28 of Ice Planet Barbarians

My big alien pushes my hands aside when I try to go back into his arms. Instead, he insists on checking over all my bruises, I assume looking for new ones. I roll my eyes and endure his ministrations, more interested in getting into his pants than having him peek at my bruises. When he insists I turn around so he can look at my back, I give him an exasperated sigh and put my hands to his breeches, sliding them in to cup his groin.

That gets his attention, fast.

My hands curl around his length, and with touch only, I feel the differences between him and human men. For one, his girth is pretty freaking impressive. He’s scalding hot to the touch, and in addition to his huge size, he’s got that hard knob, like a knuckle-shaped ridge that protrudes over his cock. I have no idea what it’s for and no questions to ask about it. He’s also ridged here, though the skin feels less abrasive, more textured like his tongue.

God, I bet it feels amazing inside a girl. I shiver at the thought. Lucky females of his race. “I’m interested in seeing more of this,” I tell him. I slide my fingers underneath his cock and feel the base of his sac. I wonder if he’s sensitive there.

His hands go to my hair, and he begins to kiss me again, flicking that textured tongue against mine. I moan and grip his cock tighter. I want him naked, but he’s still wearing his pants, so I try to fix that for him. Unfortunately, I can’t figure out how to unlace them. He’s got a breechcloth of some kind over leggings that are rigged with some sort of complex laces that are too much for this needy girl to figure out. I settle for shoving them down his hips.

Vektal chuckles and murmurs something against my mouth. He pulls at the laces, and his pants sag, then fall down. Well, damn it. Maybe I just don’t know how alien clothing works. I no longer care, either, because my big, beautiful alien is naked and I get to bask in the glory that is Vektal. When he stands at his full height, he’s utterly gorgeous.

He looks down at me, blue eyes glowing brightly, and his chest rumbles with the continuous purr. His hand goes between my breasts again, and I wonder if he’s checking for a purr of my own. “Humans don’t do that,” I tell him. “We get wet instead.” And I take his hand and guide it to my pussy, so he can see for himself.

My big alien falls to his knees and groans. He presses kisses to my stomach and then my pussy, and then holds my hips and puts his mouth directly on me.

I gasp and my knees get weak, so I have to cling to one of his horns again. In response, he lifts me off my feet and places me down in the furs, looping my legs over his shoulders and burying his face between my thighs. His tongue sweeps over my labia, and I moan when it circles around my clit.

Oh, God. Then he’s licking me with that crazy tongue of his, sweeping those ridges over my sensitive flesh and lapping up my juices. I whimper and cling to his horns, spreading my legs wider. It feels utterly incredible. I’ve had sex before and oral sex several times, but between the purring and the textured tongue? I’ve never had anything quite like this. Two licks and I’m moaning. Three more and I’m grinding my hips against his face. Two more after that and I’m practically coming off the furs, panting and crying out with need.

And my big, brutal alien just ignores my pleading for an orgasm and keeps on licking me with slow, steady, sensual motions that tell me he’s enjoying this as much as I am. He murmurs soft, unintelligible words with every stroke of his tongue, and when it swirls around the entrance to my core, I practically come out of my own skin. “Please,” I sob. “Oh God, please!”

But of course he doesn’t understand me. So I wail and beg for an orgasm, and he just licks away as I clutch his horns and think this is the most incredible, pleasurable torture I’ve ever known.

“Stop,” I moan. I’m so ready to come I’m aching inside. I want him deep inside me, filling me up. The licking and nibbling is just making me utterly crazy with need. “Oh God, stop, Vektal. I want you in me now.”

In response, his tongue thrusts into my core.

Deep.

And rubs.

I come apart in the hardest orgasm I’ve ever had, my legs locking around his face. I might be screaming his name and clinging to his horns. I might be thrashing against the furs. I’m not really sure because I’m seeing stars at the moment, and between that and the orgasm, there’s no room for any other conscious thought.

He growls, clearly enjoying that I’m coming, and just laps harder, which makes my orgasm seem to go on for mile after endless mile. I’m utterly spent and exhausted when he finally lifts his head, his eyes practically glowing like headlights, and licks his sinfully wet mouth.

I feel wrung out at the sight of that. I’ve come so hard and so frequently that I’m pretty sure that wasn’t one orgasm but a dozen stacked on top of one another, cascading with every flick of his talented, talented tongue. “God, your women must have some incredible stamina,” I tell him weakly as he crawls over my body like a big blue-gray panther and begins to nuzzle at my throat. I need a rest break, but he’s raring to go, pressing his mouth along my skin and licking all the parts he finds the softest.

And before long, I’m moaning and dragging my hands over that suede-soft skin, wanting him deep inside me. “Vektal,” I breathe and lock a leg around his hips. He’s so warm, the purring inside him fierce.

He touches my cheek and murmurs something soft and sweet and then my name. His hips settle between mine, and I realize again just how big his equipment is. Suddenly all of his enthusiastic licking takes on a new meaning because at least I’m wet as hell, which will ease the way.

“Georgie,” he murmurs, and I realize he’s saying something I’ve heard before. “Georgie sa-akh Vektal.” He nuzzles my throat again, and I feel his cock press against my core. It feels enormous, but I’m in this until the end, and I’m ready for him to fill me up. So ready.

Beyond ready, really.

He presses his lips to mine again and then begins to push into me. My body’s stretching to accommodate him, and I drag my hands over his skin, stroking and petting as he presses in, inch by thick inch.

When he’s seated entirely, I learn something new. That knob? The bony ridge I had no idea what it was for? I’ve still got no freaking clue, but I do notice that as he sinks into me, it pushes through my labia and brushes against my clit. I’m trying to analyze this unique sensation when he moves his hips and shallowly thrusts again.

And every nerve ending lights up in response to the push of that knob against my clit.

“Oooooh,” I moan. It reminds me of the time I had a Rabbit Vibrator and it worked my clit at the same time as my core. Having sex with Vektal? It’s like that, but better. Even more intense.

This . . . might kill me out of sheer pleasure. I cling to him as he begins to thrust again, sucking in a breath when his ridge pushes against my clit again. Did I think that the pussy-eating was too much to handle because of his sheer enthusiasm? It’s nothing compared to the mind-blowing sensation of him fucking the hell out of me, that ridge teasing my clit with every stroke, the ridges inside him humming against my g-spot. I come again. And again. I claw his back and scream my pleasure as he thrusts into me over and over, whispering soft words. I’m coming apart with every stroke of his cock, until I’m boneless and weak and mewing—

—and still coming.

My exhausted legs quiver as his strokes begin to take on a wilder edge. Vektal bares his fangs, his own features tightening as an orgasm rises inside him. I rake my nails down the tough, ridged spots on his chest and arms, and he growls low in his throat and shudders. I can tell he likes that, and I do it again. Come for me, baby, I think as he wrings another orgasm out of me and I choke on the overwhelming pleasure.

---