Page 47 of Captured By The Alien Barbarian
“Promise me you’ll keep yourself safe. That you won’t leave me.”
There’s something in his voice that makes me hesitate, the haze of pleasure lifting just a bit. Yet my need for him is too overwhelming; I can’t think clearly or fathom what he’s really asking of me.
“Please, Taccit,” I say, reduced to begging to have him inside me. I’m actually begging him.
He relents, pushing into me just enough for the tip to breach my entrance. In this position, he feels larger than ever, impossibly big. I groan at the mingling sensation of pain and pure satisfaction.
“Promise me,” he groans, and I can feel his trembling, though perhaps it’s my own body shaking with anticipation. Emotions within me are threatening to spiral out of control. I feel like I might snap. Or burst into flames.
“Yes,” I say. “Yes!”
With a snap of his hips, he surges inside me, going deeper than I thought possible. My muscles tighten around him as we both groan in pleasure. His head rests between my shoulder blades, his panting breath causing goosebumps to spread across my body and my nipples to harden.
He begins with a slow, subtle rhythm, gradually building in intensity. Each thrust leaves me gasping and crying out. In and out. I press back against him, matching his movements with my own, craving more.
More.
I need more.
I’m so close to the edge, yet something is missing. His hips move at a ferocious pace, the sound of our passion echoing throughout the cave.
Suddenly, he lifts me up, his strong hands the only thing keeping me off the ground. His claws prick my skin, but the sensation is addictive as he pounds into me from behind. This new angle is exactly what I needed, and I can no longer hold back. Stars fill my vision as my body arches and convulses in his embrace.
He roars in climax, his smooth movements stopping as he grinds into me, filling me with his warmth. My core tightens around him, milking him dry.
The world becomes hazy as I collapse into his arms, my body heavy with exhaustion. I’m faintly aware of Taccit releasing me from my bonds and pressing tender kisses to my wrists. A warm blanket envelops me, comforting me as the sweat on my skin cools. He pulls me close against his body, guiding my head to rest on his firm bicep.
“You are my prisoner,” Taccit says, gently kissing my sweaty temple.
“If I am your prisoner, that makes you mine as well. My captor.” I’m not sure I’m making much sense at this point. Drowsiness is weighing heavily upon me. I’m warm, comfortable, and content in his arms. I wish this moment could last forever.
I had so many doubts about coming to this alien planet. I would never have imagined life turning out like this. I’d never have imagined living with a partner that I actually loved.
“I better feed you.” Taccit lifts my body off of his, guiding me to lie back in the furs.
I bite down on the sigh of disappointment. I wanted to cuddle. I wanted him to hold me, to make me feel as loved as he claims. I’m growing addicted to the feeling, even willing to forsake dinner to stay in his arms.
“You’re going to need your strength tonight, since you won’t be sleeping at all.” He looks at me with a cocky smirk. My body responds in a way that it’s only ever done with him, for him.
What have I done? I married a monster.
* * *
I loungeon the bed furs, taking in the sight of Taccit poking at the fire. He’s wearing thin trousers woven from a rough material that leaves little to the imagination. They also put all of the tattoos that cover his chest and arms on full display.
“These are lusnar leaves. They will help you sleep,” Taccit says as he swings a metal rod over the fire, placing a pot of liquid on the flames. He sprinkles a pinch of pale blue powder into the mix, and soon the air fills with a soothing, vanilla-floral aroma.
As I watch him work his culinary magic, I can’t help but compare my alien-planet life to my old life back on Earth. There are some perks to living with this extraterrestrial dude—I’ll admit it. But boy, do I miss showers. Then again, bathing was quite the luxury even on the spaceship. Maybe, just maybe, I can convince Taccit to help me build a bathtub... by the river... with freezing cold water.
Great plan.
How did medieval people do it? Didn’t they boil water first? Maybe that’s an option.
My friends would be the perfect people to make an experimental bath with—in fact, I had looked forward to doing crazy stuff like this with them.
First, Maya would create some impossible design for us. Actually, it would probably be below her skill level. The woman almost never puts down her data-tablet. Add to that Stacy’s usual list of outrageous suggestions—“Let’s make it a bubble bath!” she’d exclaim. Of course, Maya would only see that as a challenge. And then we’d have... well, a mess, probably.
“You look sad,” Taccit observes.
