Page 83 of Rizzed Up By My Alien Neighbor
The garage lights dim around us, shadows dancing on the walls as if the room holds its breath. Nessa looks up at me, those deep brown eyes wide, shimmering, and I feel the pulse of something ancient and new thrum through my chest.
She’s small, soft, delicate in ways I’ll never be, but her bravery makes her immense. My golden eyes lock on hers as she speaks.
“I’ve never wanted something like this before,” she says, fingertips brushing my ribcage, sending heat spiraling through me. “Not just sex. This. Us.”
My voice rumbles low from my throat. “Then let me show you what it means to be chosen.”
I kiss her—hard, full of everything I’ve been holding back. She responds instantly, wrapping herself around me, her legs cinching my waist as I pin her to the wall. I feel the heat of her pussy even through our clothes, and I groan, my cock already straining in my pants.
She moans into my mouth. “Rychne… I want to feel you. All of you.”
I carry her to the workbench, brushing tools aside in one sweep, and lay her down gently. Reverently. She’s my queen tonight. My anchor.
Her shirt comes off first, then her bra. I drink in the sight of her round, perfect breasts, her nipples already hard. I lower my mouth to one, suckling, listening to her gasp, her body arching up to meet me.
“Oh fuck,” she whispers, voice shaky. “That feels—gods—don’t stop…”
I won’t.
I slide my hand down her belly, unfastening her jeans, tugging them and her soaked panties down in one motion. Her pussy glistens, folds parting slightly, begging.
“So wet already,” I murmur. I run a finger through her slick and taste her. Gods, she’s perfect.
“Please,” she says, voice breaking. “I need your mouth.”
I drop to my knees, grip her thighs, and bury my face in her. My tongue finds her clit and circles it slowly, then faster, then Ilick deep into her core. She cries out, grabbing my horns, riding every stroke.
Her thighs tremble, her cries rise. I slide two fingers into her, then three. She’s so tight, clenching around me. My cock throbs painfully, but I stay focused on her.
She screams as she comes, legs shaking.
But I don’t stop.
I keep licking, sucking, finger-fucking her as she moans through the aftershocks. When I finally rise, I see it in her eyes: want. Need. Love.
I strip quickly, my cock springing free—long, thick, hard as stone.
Her eyes widen. “Oh my god…”
“I’ll go slow,” I promise.
I press the head of my cock to her entrance, sliding through her wet folds. Then I push in, inch by inch, stretching her, claiming her. She gasps, her fingers gripping my arms.
“Move,” she says. “I want to feel you.”
I obey.
Each thrust sinks deep, her pussy clinging to me. The bench creaks, her cries echo. I kiss her as I move, our bodies fused. Her tits bounce with each motion, nipples stiff against my chest.
“Say it,” I growl. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” she sobs. “Rychne—I’m yours!”
That’s all I need.
I drive into her with abandon. We are fire and wind and earth. I roar as I come, filling her, body quaking. She climaxes again, writhing beneath me.
After, I collapse beside her, still buried deep.
