“Rezor,” I moaned. “Please. More.”
He rewarded me by sliding one thick finger inside me. I cried out at the intrusion, the stretch immediate and intense. It had been so long, and he was so much larger than any human. But my body welcomed him, clenching around that single digit.
“So tight,” he groaned against my neck. “So wet for me, Cleo. Your body knows what it wants.”
He pumped that finger slowly, stroking along my inner wall. Stars exploded behind my eyelids, pleasure sparking through my nerves. Before I could adjust, he added a second finger, stretching me further. The burn was exquisite, toeing the line between pleasure and pain.
“Breathe,” he murmured, his free hand under my ass easily supporting me, even as the other worked me toward madness. “Relax into it. Let your body accept me.”
I forced myself to breathe, to relax my muscles. The burn eased, shifting entirely into pleasure as he continued those slow, deep strokes. His thumb found my clit again, working it in tight circles that had me gasping and grinding against his hand shamelessly.
“That’s it,” he praised, his voice a deep rumble that I felt as much as heard. “You’re opening for me. Getting ready to take all of me.”
He added a third finger, and I gasped at the stretch. It was almost too much, but not quite. The edge of discomfort only heightened the pleasure. He pumped his fingers slowly, thoroughly, his thumb never stopping its maddening circles on my clit.
“You feel perfect,” he rasped against my neck, his own breathing ragged now. “Tight. Wet. Hot. I need to be inside you, Cleo. I need to feel you around my cock.”
“Yes,” I gasped. “Yes, please. Now.”
He withdrew his fingers, and I whimpered at the loss, feeling empty. He brought his hand up between us, his fingers glistening with my wetness. Holding my gaze, hebrought them to his mouth and licked them clean, his eyes flaring even brighter. A groan rumbled from his chest.
“You taste like sweetcaxosfruit,” he said. “I could feast on you for hours.”
“Later,” I managed. “I need you now.”
He gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh, and lifted me easily. I hitched my legs higher around his waist, my arms around his neck. The head of his cock nudged against my entrance, hot and hard and impossibly thick.
He paused, his fuchsia eyes locked on mine, searching. “Cleo. Are you certain? Once we do this—”
“I’m certain,” I interrupted. “I need you, Rezor. I need this. Please.”
Something shifted in his expression, possessiveness and desire and something deeper I couldn’t quite name. “Then take me,” he said. “Take all of me.”
He lowered me slowly onto his cock. The head breached me, stretching me wide, and I gasped at the intense sensation. He was so thick, so hot. He held still, letting me adjust to just that first inch.
“Breathe,” he reminded me, his voice strained with the effort of control. “We have time.”
I forced myself to breathe, to relax. Gradually, my body adjusted, accepting him. He lowered me another inch, then another, his gaze never leaving my face, watching for any sign of real pain. The stretch was intense, almost overwhelming, but not painful. Just…full. So incredibly full.
“More,” I gasped. “I can take more.”
With a groan, he thrust up as he pulled me down, burying himself to the hilt in one smooth, powerful stroke. I cried out.The sheer size of him stole my breath. He filled me completely, stretched me to what felt like my absolute limit. The sensation of fullness was almost overwhelming.
He held still, buried deep inside me, his breath ragged against my temple. His entire body trembled with the effort of control, muscles locked tight. “Cleo,” he groaned. “So perfect. You were made for me. Made to take me.”
“Move,” I begged, my body already adjusting to accommodate him. “Please move.”
He pulled back slowly, almost all the way out, and I whimpered at the drag of him against my sensitive inner walls. Then he slammed back in, hard and deep, and I gasped, clutching his shoulders. Stars exploded across my vision.
He set a rhythm, each deep thrust hitting a spot inside me that sent electric shocks through my nerves. Not punishing, not yet. His movements were still measured, controlled, giving me time to adjust to his size and strength. But each stroke was powerful, claiming, marking me as his.
My moans filled the room, mixing with his grunts and the wet slap of skin on skin. His skin felt incredible against mine—tough and textured, but smooth in its own alien way, and so hot it felt like being wrapped in heat. Every point where our bodies touched seemed to burn.
“Rezor,” I moaned. “Harder. I can take it. I want…more.”
His control snapped. His hands gripped my ass hard, holding me exactly where he wanted me as he drove into me. The rhythm turned relentless. Powerful thrusts had me crying out with each one. The spot deep inside that he hit with each stroke sent shockwaves of pleasure through my entire body.
His jaw clenched. Tendons stood out in his neck. Sweat beaded on his bronze skin, making the patterns shimmer. “Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough and possessive. “I want to see your eyes when you come apart for me.”
