Page 71 of Alien Wants A Wife

Harlee

Dazed by the strength of my orgasm, I blink, trying to clear the spots from my vision. If Roan told me I’d momentarily blacked out, I wouldn’t be surprised. I don’t think I’ve come so hard in a long time, and certainly not with a man.

My most reliable orgasms have all been self-induced. But there’s something intensely personal about it having been Roan’s fingers on my clit. He’d teased and stroked until I’d been a writhing, squirming mess.

The distinct smell of sex clings to my skin, and I revel in the feeling of sated confidence burning its way through my veins. It’s a drug, drip-fed to me by Roan’s devoted attention and the sight of his engorged cock, leaking in anticipation of my touch.

With my legs on either side of Roan, I sit up—not so straight as to tip the clothes off us, but enough that I can more fully see the broad expanse of his chest. My over-sensitive clit accidentally rubs against his scales—ohh!I could come like this,rubbing against one of his thick thighs, using the natural texture of his scales to massage myself to my finish.

I roll my hips, experimentally, and Roan catches his bottom lip between pointed teeth again, clearly still trying to keep quiet and motionless. A battle we both lost long ago.

Grinning, I continue grinding against him, loving that I can control the speed and strength of my sexy massage, but also loving that I’m not doing all the work alone. Roan tenses his muscles, and his leg moves under me, rubbing deliciously against my wetness.

Pleasuring myself, I reach greedily for his cock. It’s thick and long and dripping. As I wrap my fingers around him, I savor the heat of his skin, several degrees hotter than me. I can only imagine how he’d feel inside me and how easy it’d be to come on his cock.

I stroke him, making sure to give the head a small twist.

Abandoning his attempts at stillness, he thrusts into my hold, growling my name with such force that I can feel it rumble through his chest.

I plant my free hand on one hard pec, using it to take most of my weight, unafraid of hurting him. Considering our size difference and Roan’s strength, I think he could carry me all day and not grow tired.

Using my other hand, I guide him to my pussy and slowly sink down. He freezes, his gaze locked on the point where our bodies join. It’s the center of our universe.

It takes me a moment to adjust to his girth; I’m stretched tight, almost to the point of pain. And then it passes, and I’m left with nothing but a desperate frantic desire to move, to thrust, to chase our combined pleasure.

I find a messy rhythm, the sound of wet flesh obscenely loud. Roan’s thrusts grow erratic, but he’s still holding himself so tightly that a muscle twitches in his cheek. I think he’s trying notto spill early like he did last time. But that’s no fun, and I speed up, determined to pull all the pleasure from his body I possibly can, even as my own ecstasy peaks.

“Har-lee.” He grunts, shuddering. I swear I can feel his hot cum squirting up inside me, painting me. I don’t stop pumping him, though, and his cock gives another desperate twitch.

“Wow.” I’ve got my eyes open as wide as they’ll go, trying to see all the small details in the shadow of our clothes fort. Roan’s face is distinctly blue. Were he Human, I’d probably be panicking, but blue is his blush. And when he licks his lips, I follow the movement of his tongue as if it’s me he’s licking.

I should probably clean us up, but before I can do anything more than admire a sated and stunned Roan, he reaches for me, pulling me into the circle of his four arms.

The mess, I decide, settling firmly against him, can wait until later.

“Harlee?” Roan kisses the top of my head, hooking a leg around both of my thighs, determined to trap me against him. Determined to never let me go.

I have to clear my throat before I trust my voice to work. “Yes, Roan?” I’m both exhilarated and calm; I could either conquer the world or take a nap. Nevertheless, a twinge of the all-too-familiar guilt returns, a knot in my stomach, and the clothes are suddenly a heavy weight. I brush them away from my face, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

Immediately, I see the red lights of the watching cameras, so I bury my face against Roan’s shoulder, eyes closed tightly shut.Just a few more minutes,I beg my brain.Allow me a few more minutes in Roan’s arms.

“Is it always like that?”

His question nearly breaks me.

“I— Um…” I should lie. It would make what I’ve got to eventually do so much easier—if he thought that thisthingbetween us was nothing special.

The words stick in my throat, but apparently Roan can read my silence, because he says: “I thought not.”

“No,” I reluctantly agree. “It’s not always like that. At least…” I gather my long-neglected courage. “It was never like that for me before you.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Roan

The days pass much too swiftly, and I am left scrambling, trying to complete the tasks set by John Smith while simultaneously attempting to ignore the cameras and prove to Harlee how good a Mate I could be. The tasks themselves are not so difficult, if often confusing. I still do not understand the concept of a ‘kissing booth’, which we had to make from repurposed supplies found around my cottage. To sell kisses… I shake my head. I would not want to kiss anyone but Harlee, and she is generous in giving me her kisses for free.

Sometimes we kiss long into the night. Covered by her clothes.

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