Page 35 of Alien's Heart
Impossible. He would do anything to please her. He’d burn the world down if that’s what it took. If she found his cock intimidating, he’d be gentle and take his time. He’d lavish her with so much ecstasy that she’d be delirious and unable to walk for a span.
“I know I am not like a human male—”
She glanced up at him. “I know. I’m just taking it all in. You’re gorgeous.”
She reached for him, then drew her hand back. Nox growled at her hesitation. He was hers to take.
“May I touch you?” she asked.
“Always. I am yours.”
She brushed her fingers down his length, exploring the ridges and contours. She held him in a light grip and stroked upward. Brushing her thumb over the leaking tip, she spread the fluid as she worked his length. Then she leaned forward, her mouth open.
She glanced, to gauge his response.
“Anything you want, kitten.”
Emboldened, she licked the tip, then swirled her tongue around him. She swallowed him, nearly down to the base. Her mouth was warm and silky soft. She pulled back, letting his cock slide against her tongue. Nothing should feel that good.
He moaned and clenched his hands to hide his extended claws. He wanted to touch her, but at that moment he dared not.
Wind and rain drummed against the house, but it could not compete with the drumming of his heart. His pulse thundered like the storm outside with a desperate need to claim Ruth.
He gritted his teeth, focusing on the wind rather than the seductive heat of his mate’s mouth.
She reached behind and grabbed his tail at the root.Stars. Pleasure coiled tight, and Nox came to the edge of his endurance.
He pulled away.
“Was that wrong? Too much teeth? I don’t exactly get a lot of practice.”
Shame. They needed to change that.
“No, it was good,” he said. “Extraordinarily good. You make me lose myself, kitten.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks flushed red with pleasure, making the markings on her nose and cheeks noticeable. He had to taste her. Right at that moment.
“Come here,” Nox said, pulling her to her feet. He peeled away the wet trousers. Good. He reached behind her to remove the undergarment, but the clasp proved difficult to navigate with his claws out. Less good. Growling with frustration, he sliced through the fabric. The straps slid down her arms, and the offending item fell away.
Much better.
“I hated that bra anyway,” she said.
She stood nude before him. Mud flecks decorated her face and feet; it did not distract from her perfection.
She lifted her chin, as if daring him to find fault with her form. He could not. Every inch of her was luscious and made to be savored. Made for him. The brown markings were scattered across her shoulders like a sprinkle of stardust.
“Let’s get you clean,” he said, opening the pack of wipes. Mindful of his claws, he dabbed at her face to remove the drying mud. He worked the wipe down her neck and across her collarbone.
“I’m not muddy there,” she said in a breathy tone.
“I disagree. I see something here.” He leaned down and removed her spectacles, revealing the scattering of brown spots on her skin. He wiped the invisible dirt away.
“My freckles?”
“Your markings. They are charming.” So charming he could not take his eyes off them.
“You’re literally the first person to like them.”
