Page 47 of Naughty List Delivery
I reach for him desperately, needing to touch him, to return some of the incredible pleasure he’s given me. When my hand wraps around his length, he hisses through his teeth like I’ve burned him.
“So hard,” I whisper, stroking him with deliberate intent. “Is this all for me?”
“All for you,” he confirms, his hips bucking into my touch. “Dreaming about being inside you again.”
His alien anatomy is fascinating—larger than human normal, with subtle ridges along his length that I remember will feel incredible once he’s inside me. When I lean up to take him in my mouth, he makes a sound that’s half growl, half purr.
“Fuck, yes,” he groans, his hands tangling in my hair as I work him with lips and tongue. “I’d forgotten how good your mouth feels.”
I take him as deep as I can, using everything I remember about what he likes. The taste of him is addictive—salt and spice and something uniquely alien that makes me want more. When I hollow my cheeks and suck hard, his control finally snaps.
“Enough,” he growls, pulling me off him with gentle force. “I need to be inside you. Need to claim you properly.”
He positions himself at my entrance, the head of his cock sliding through my wetness in a tease that makes us both groan. When he finally pushes inside, the stretch is incredible—almost too much after three years, but exactly what I need.
“So tight,” he breathes, his forehead pressed against mine as he gives me time to adjust. “Perfect. Like you were made for me.”
“I was,” I whisper, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him deeper. “I was made for you.”
He starts to move then, slow and deep, relearning the rhythm that had always driven us both wild. The ridges along his length create incredible friction, hitting spots inside me that make me see stars with every stroke.
“Mine,” he growls with each thrust, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. “My mate. My woman. Mine.”
“Yours,” I agree breathlessly, meeting him stroke for stroke. “Always yours.”
The pace builds gradually, three years of separation and desperate need driving us both toward the edge. When he shifts angle slightly, hitting that perfect spot inside me, I cry out his name like a prayer.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his thumb finding my clit and circling with devastating precision. “Come for me again. Come on my cock like you used to.”
The combination of his thick length inside me and his clever fingers on my clit sends me spiraling toward another climax. This one builds slowly, a deep coiling tension that promises to be devastating when it breaks.
“I’m close,” I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. “So close—”
“Wait for me,” he commands, his rhythm becoming more erratic as his own release approaches. “I want to feel you come when I claim you. Want to fill you up while you’re falling apart.”
His tail wraps around my thigh, holding me in place as he drives into me with increasing desperation. I can feel him swelling inside me, his alien anatomy preparing for the kind of claiming that will leave me marked as his in every way that matters.
“Now,” he growls, his thumb pressing harder against my clit. “Come with me, mate. Let me feel you.”
I shatter completely, my body clenching around him as the most intense orgasm of my life crashes through me. He follows immediately, his roar of completion echoing through the medical bay as he fills me with liquid heat.
We stay locked together for long moments, both breathing hard, both struggling to process the intensity of what just happened. When he finally pulls out, I whimper at the loss, already missing the feeling of being completely filled by him.
“Stay right there,” he murmurs, pressing gentle kisses to my throat. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Before I can ask what he means, he’s sliding down my body again, his mouth finding the evidence of our joining. The sensation of his tongue cleaning me, tasting both of us together, is so intensely erotic I’m already building toward another peak.
“Sensitive,” I gasp, my hands fisting in his hair.
“I know,” he purrs against my flesh. “But I want to taste us together. Want to make you come one more time before we’re done.”
His enhanced stamina means he’s already hardening again, his refractory period impossibly short. When he slides two fingers inside me, working them alongside his tongue, I realize he meant what he said about not being done.
“Again?” I ask breathlessly.
“Again,” he confirms, his amber eyes meeting mine with predatory intent. “And again after that, if you can handle it. I have three years to make up for.”
The promise in his voice makes me clench around his fingers. After eighteen hours of thinking I might lose him forever, the idea of spending the next several hours being thoroughly claimed by him sounds like paradise.
