Page 40 of Alien Attachment
“I need...” I struggle to form words through the haze of sensation. “I need you to touch me. Really touch me. Stop holding back.”
His control snaps like a breaking cable. With a sound that’s part growl, part groan, he pulls me fully onto the bed, his larger frame covering mine as his tendrils map every inch of my exposed skin. The bioelectric pulses grow stronger, more insistent, creating a symphony of sensation that has me writhing beneath him.
“Like this?” he asks, one tendril finding the sensitive peak of my breast while another traces the curve of my hip. “Or like this?” The pulses change rhythm, becoming faster, more intense, and I cry out at the sudden spike of pleasure.
“Both,” I gasp. “Everything. All of it.”
He laughs, the sound rich and dark with promise. “Greedy,” he murmurs approvingly. “I like that. I like knowing you want more than I can give you in one night.”
The admission that this is just the beginning, that there’s so much more to explore, sends another wave of heat through me. Through our bond, I feel his own arousal building, his need becoming as desperate as my own.
But even lost in passion, his focus remains on my pleasure. His tendrils work in perfect coordination, each one finding a different sensitive spot—the curve of my neck, the hollow of my hip, the sensitive skin just beneath my breast. The bioelectric stimulation builds in layers, creating a crescendo of sensation that has me balanced on the knife’s edge of release.
“Not yet,” he whispers when he senses how close I am. “Let me savor this. Let me learn you completely.”
The tender dominance in his voice, the way he takes control while still prioritizing my pleasure, is almost as arousing as his touch. I’ve never experienced anything like this—this perfect balance of power and submission, of taking and giving.
His mouth finds my breast, and the sensation of his lips and tongue combined with the bioelectric stimulation of his tendrils is overwhelming. I arch against him with a cry that echoes through the cavern, my hands clutching at his shoulders, his back, anywhere I can reach.
“Perfect,” he murmurs against my skin. “You taste like starlight and sin.”
The poetic words, so at odds with the intense physicality of what we’re doing, somehow make it even more arousing. Thisis Jhorn—alien and familiar, gentle and fierce, reverent and demanding all at once.
When his hand slides down my body to cup the heat between my thighs, I nearly shatter apart completely. The pressure is perfect, his fingers finding exactly the right spot, the right rhythm, as if our bond has given him a roadmap to my pleasure.
“So ready for me,” he marvels, his voice thick with desire. One finger traces through my wetness, and I arch against his touch with a desperate sound. “I can feel how much you want this through our bond. Your need calls to mine.”
“Then stop teasing me,” I gasp, but he only smiles—that predatory expression that makes my pulse race.
“Teasing?” His finger circles slowly, deliberately avoiding where I need him most. “This isn’t teasing, Kaylee. This is worship.”
A second finger joins the first, and the dual sensation combined with a gentle bioelectric pulse makes me cry out. Through our bond, I feel his own arousal spike at my response, the feedback loop of shared pleasure making everything more intense.
“I want to learn every sound you make,” he murmurs, his mouth moving to my breast. When his lips close around the sensitive peak, the combination of heat and bioelectric stimulation sends lightning through my nervous system. “Every way your body responds to mine.”
His tendrils join the exploration, one wrapping around my thigh to hold me open for his touch, another tracing the curve of my hip with maddening slowness. The smallest tendril of all finds its way to the bundle of nerves between my legs, the delicate touch combined with tiny electrical pulses making me writhe against him.
“Jhorn, please,” I beg, my hands clutching at his shoulders. “I need—”
“I know what you need,” he says, his voice dropping to that dark, possessive tone that makes heat pool in my core. “I feel it through our bond. But I’m going to give you so much more than that.”
His fingers press deeper, finding that perfect spot inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyelids. The bioelectric pulse that accompanies the touch is stronger now, coordinated with the pressure and movement in a way that has me trembling on the edge of release.
“Not yet,” he whispers when he feels how close I am through our connection. “Let me savor this first time. Let me memorize every way you come apart for me.”
The tender dominance in his voice, the way he controls my pleasure while worshipping my body, is almost as arousing as his touch. His mouth moves lower, pressing kisses to my ribs, my stomach, the sensitive hollow of my hip. Each kiss is accompanied by a gentle bioelectric pulse that makes my skin sing.
When his mouth finally finds the center of my desire, I nearly come apart completely. The sensation of his tongue combined with the electrical stimulation is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. He maps me completely, learning what pressure makes me gasp, what rhythm makes me arch, what combination of touches makes me cry out his name like a prayer.
“Perfect,” he murmurs against my skin, the vibration of his voice adding another layer of sensation. “You taste like starlight and need.”
His tendrils continue their own exploration, one curling around my breast to tease the sensitive peak, another tracing patterns on my inner thigh that make me shiver. The coordination is perfect, each touch building on the others until I’m balanced on the knife’s edge of release.
“Please, Jhorn,” I gasp, my body trembling with the effort of holding back. “I can’t... I need...”
“Then let go,” he commands, his voice rough with his own need. “Let me feel you fall apart.”
The combination of his mouth, his fingers, and the precisely timed bioelectric pulses sends me crashing over the edge. My release tears through me in waves, each one amplified by our bond so that he feels every pulse of pleasure as clearly as I do. His own groan of satisfaction vibrates against my skin as he experiences my climax through our connection.
