I toss her legs over my shoulders, and this time, I do not tease her. With my arms locked around her thighs and my hands pressed against her stomach, I use what her body has taught me, and I show no mercy.
Her first climax comes fast. Screaming, writhing, animalistic pleasure. I release one of her legs and press my fingers into her, growling as she pulses, gripping me and pulling me deeper. Begging for more.
Her taste, her smell, her sounds, her pleasure rolling through me, all help to clear the blurring line between myself and the shadow.
I devour her until her face is red and my shadow is little more than a ghost at the edge of my mind.
“Please, I … can’t,” she whimpers, hands wrapped tightly around my horns and hips grinding against my face. I had no idea how much I would enjoy my mate’s desperation. To feel her tugging me closer while begging me to stop. The push and pull warring in her mind.
“Your words and your actions ask for two different things,mek Lysaer.”
Her face screws up in confusion as she lets go of my horns, looking at her hands like they might belong to someone else.
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask.
She shakes her head rapidly. “No.”
My pride swells. “Good human.”
I dive back in, feeling her pleasure wash over me, clearing away the remaining darkness. None of this makes sense. The shadow begs me to claim her, but relents when I have done nothing more than give her pleasure? I do not know what it wants, and the longer it lurks within me, the more confused I become.
When her voice grows hoarse and she starts to flinch at my touch, I slow my movements, waiting for her heart to calm and her breathing to return to normal.
“Holy shit,” she pants, as she pushes herself up and lets her legs hang over the edge of the bed on either side of my body. Pink cheeks and hooded eyes greet me.
I press a kiss to her bandaged knee and run my hand down her calf.
“That was … fuck. That was life-altering.” Her palms grip my face, and she pulls my mouth to hers with surprising force. When she breaks the kiss, her eyes run hungrily over my body. “God damn you’re beautiful. You look like a statue.” Her teeth drag over her bottom lip, and she whispers, “A beautiful fucking statue.” With a finger pressed to the underside of my jaw, she says, “Now stand.”
I obey, not entirely sure what is happening.
She looks up at me from her perch on the bed, head tilted back, face perfectly level with my hips.
“Good alien,” she says with a quirk of her lips.
Zar’vok.The muscles around my spine tighten, and I think I am beginning to understand why she enjoys that so much.
Cool fingers slide down my abdomen, over the medical wrap, and to the sensitive skin just above my leathers. Her eyes go wide when they catch on the head of my already weeping cock, trapped between my waistband and stomach, and she licks her lips with pure, carnal desire.
“Vok’talja,” I curse under my breath as understanding dawns. She is going to be my undoing, of that much I am certain.
“Just tell me if you want me to stop,” she says gently.
“Never.”
My head is spinning. Heart racing. Her hands are on the laces of my leathers. My erection springs free. Her eyelids flutter.The urge to touch her is overwhelming, but I give her what I have never given anyone—complete control over my body. I am terrified and captivated. Drunk on the way she looks at me.
Her searing gaze narrows in on the appendage above my erection, and her curiosity builds. I assumed our species’ anatomical differences were nearly non-existent, but her expression tells me something different.
“It is myvirga,” I say, carefully watching her reaction.
Her eyes flick to my face. “Virga?”
“A sensory and sexual organ.”
“What’s it for?”
“Pleasure.”
