Page 37 of Captured By The Alien Barbarian
I desperately want him inside of me, but at the same time, a little voice at the back of my head reminds me that he’s so big.
Seeing the doubt etched on my face, he says, “You can take me.”
Slowly, he sinks me over him with small, controlled thrusts. Each inch ignites a burning stretch as my channel is forced to stretch to accommodate him.
I can feel each and every ridge as they enter me, brushing hidden, sacred spots. I thought he had wrung as much pleasure from me as possible, but my body is coiling once again.
Full. So incredibly full. Only when he’s fully seated inside of me does he pause. His forehead presses against mine, creating an intimate connection. “Good girl. Such a good girl,” he says, approval dripping from his words. “I knew you could take me.”
His praise sends me overboard. As if possessed, my hips take on a life of their own, grinding against him, pulling him impossibly deeper.
A growl escapes Taccit, his entire body vibrating like a high-tech adult toy, sending delightful quivers to my center.
A slow, sinister curl of his lips sends a thrilling shiver tiptoeing across my skin. His hands clamp down on my hips, and before I know it, he’s lifting me up and slamming me back down upon him.
Over and over.
Waves of pleasure cascade through me, building.
I cling to him, unable to do anything but moan out at the sensations that assault my body. He controls my movement, his hips thrusting wildly against me. Each push is deeper, faster.
The heat between us turns into an inferno. Surely we are on fire now. It’s too much. He’s too much.
I cry out as my orgasm sweeps over me like a tidal wave. Stars burst behind my eyelids. My back arches, shifting the angle just enough so that he’s slamming deep inside of me—pressing against my womb. My core quivers and clutches him, milking him. His own climax follows, his hips jerking and losing pace.
He roars out as he empties himself inside of me, his seed spraying my insides in molten bursts that somehow spur another climax for me.
And then I am falling. My body goes limp, and I’m unable to find the strength to hold myself up.
But Taccit pulls me close and wraps me up in the safety of his arms.
It’s intoxicating, knowing that my Taccit is a mighty predator who could easily end my life here and now with a snap of his fingers. But all he wants is me, and there is nowhere safer in this world than wrapped up in his velvety embrace.
The knowledge burrows deep into my soul.
This feels right. This is where I am meant to be.
* * *
Transforming into a gentle giant,Taccit carries me out of the water bridal style, and immediately the cool air playfully nips at my skin. I cling tightly to him, burrowing my face into the crook of his neck, reveling in the warmth emitted from his larger frame.
He lowers me, my feet sinking into the sandy soil. With one arm wrapped around my waist, his other retrieves a basket from a low-hanging branch. From inside, he pulls a large leather pelt, quickly draping it around my shivering shoulders like an impromptu cape.
He plants a tender peck of a kiss on my forehead before guiding me to sit on a nearby smooth rock. With practiced ease, he clears out a fire pit and kindles a small flame within seconds.
Taccit glances up at me with concern. “Are you warm enough?”
I blush, unused to such concern, the heat in my cheeks giving me a bit more warmth. “Yes, thank you.”
I stretch out my legs, letting my toes escape from the length of the blanket and push towards the growing warmth of the fire. It feels comforting. For the first time in so long, I feel content.
“So...” I begin, but am unsure how to proceed. I’m unsure what to say, how to behave now that our relationship has been taken to the next level. Do I act like everything is normal and absolutely nothing has changed between us?
My late husband wasn’t a bad man, but he despised small talk. Our pillow talk consisted of sleepy silence, punctuated by gentle snores. He’d hold me sometimes, but the memory pales in comparison to Taccit, who now shines like the sun in the cold light of retrospect.
Taccit tilts his head, a clear signal that he’s all ears while he busies himself with a few small bags from his belt. He may not look like a human, but he’s quite handsome. With his strength and refined muscles, some might even call him mouth-watering. I can easily picture him strutting his stuff on Earth, appearing in vids and talk shows, rubbing elbows with high society. He’d steal hearts left and right.
A twinge of envy strikes me at the thought of others ogling Taccit as I am now. I don’t want to share him.
