Page 24 of Alien Desire
I shake my head. I’m too cold. I can’t move.
He yanks at me again and when I don’t budge, he mutters something in his own language and scoops me up into his arms and onto his quad bike. Settling me at the front, he wraps his hard body around me.
The thick mist still persists, visibility still muted, but Tor revs the engine and slams down his foot on the accelerator, racing us home.
I think I must pass out because when I open my eyes again and the world comes hazily into view, I find myself inside the station. Warm air blows against my back and my wet clothes have been stripped away. I’m dressed in just my underthings, swaddled in blankets with Fluffy curled up and snoring in my lap.
I lift my head and realise it was resting on something warm and hard. Tor’s shoulder. I look up and find him glancing down at me. He’s sitting up against me, stripped down too, and we’re wrapped in the blankets together.
“Emma cold?”
I nod. “Yes, still a little cold.”
He encircles my waist with his arm and pulls me against him, rubbing his palm up and down the outside of my arms. I rest my head back against his chest. His heart thuds beneath my ear, more frantically than it did before. And he squeezes me closer.
Our communication remains limited and yet I know what he’s feeling. Because I feel it too.
We nearly lost each other out there, and the magnitude of it makes me shake.
“You saved me,” I murmur into his skin. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“My Omega,” he says in reply as if this is an answer to my statement. I lift my eyes to his and he stares down at me with such intensity that it warms my skin.
I don’t think anyone has ever looked at me that way in my whole life. It’s as if he wants me and only me. As if he’d risk his life for me over and over again.
It can’t be real, can it? It must be my imagination, my foolish imagination racing away with me.
Maybe it is, but I don’t care.
I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and pull his face towards mine, pressing my lips against his.
His lips are smoother and softer and warmer than I could possibly have imagined. The taste of him spills across my lips and into my mouth, rich and deep, like nothing I’ve ever tasted before.
A kiss.
A caress of my lips against his.
But it isn’t matched by him and I lean away and peer at him. Was I wrong?
His lips are a multitude of colours, shimmering and beautiful, and his eyes are wide with wonderment. He raises a long finger and touches my bottom lip, tracing it slowly from one corner to the other. His eyes sparkle.
“Lips,” I tell him, capturing the tip of his finger between mine, “kiss.”
His hand moves to cup the back of my head and he pulls me towards him, pressing our lips together again.
“Kiss,” I say into his mouth, a little more breathy than I’d intended.
I kiss him softly and he starts to respond, copying the movement, sweeping his wet lips over mine. The sensation makes my skin tingle as if it’s coming alive, as if something inside me that has lain dormant for so long is finally awakening.
His fingers tangle in my hair and trip against the base of my skull and something sparks there so violently, I gasp. He tugs me closer, pressing my body into his. In response, I run my tongue against the seam of his lips and he parts them, letting me slide my tongue inside and he shivers.
I tilt away and smile at him. His eyelids have drifted shut and his whole face dances with colour as if he’s floating in bliss. I don’t think he’s ever been kissed before. I don’t have a whole lot of experience myself but everything tells me this is new to him.
His eyes draw open.
“More kissing,” he sighs.
How can I resist?
