“You have been weird ever since we got to this planet. I'm not sure why you even wanted to come here.”
“Children must have opportunity to engage with culture of birth,” Rick trumpeted.
“Given how you are reacting to your culture of birth, I'm not sure I want my kids anywhere near them.”
Rick’s tentacles curled in distress. “Max husband will not interfere with children. Children possess individual will for choice.”
Max threw his hands up. “Fine, our children have every right to pick these assholes who make you miserable. Now, will you explain to me why they make you miserable?” Max begged.Rick had always been so open, even when they’d had trouble talking to each other because of the universe’s worst translation program.
“I suffer no misery,” Rick said.
“Bullshit,” Max snapped.
“The excrement of male farm animals is irrelevant in this discussion.”
Now Max knew that Rick was being intentionally thick. Rick delighted in idioms–idioms, commercials, and weird English sayings were Rick's happy place. Give Rick a metaphor, and he would go squiggly with the joy. He was an English teacher's dream alien.
Max moved into Rick's personal space and wrapped his arms around several of Rick's tentacles. “Talk to me,” Max said softly. “You are my husband, and I love you, and I feel like I'm failing you as a husband when you need to shut me out.”
That worked where nothing else had. “You are not failure,” Rick said in a voice that could almost be described as soft from a Hidden one.
“And you are not a failure either,” Max insisted.
Rick curled his tentacles around Max’s body and held him in the tightest hug Max had ever felt. He was cocooned in Rick’s embrace. “I am the failure,” Rick said, but before Max could reassure his sensitive husband, tentacles were working inside his waistband, and under his shirt. Tentacles brushed over his perineum. Max had come here hoping to seduce his husband into telling him the truth, but apparently Rick's seduction game was more on point.
Chapter Twelve
“Lock door,” Rick said, but before Max could do anything, Rick twirled Max around so he was closer to the middle of the room and used his longest tentacle to trigger the door lock. “Competitive sex would distract from your annoyingness,” Rick suggested. Rick did have a weird kink for racing for the orgasm, although orgasm might be the wrong word. If Max won the race and gave Rick enough pleasure, a slit would open on his reproductive tentacle.
If Rick won, Max would be left boneless in a puddle of his own sweat and semen. It sounded gross, but it was pretty damn hot. Still, Max liked to win, so he always put in his best effort.
Max pulled a tentacle, but before he could put his full weight behind his efforts, his husband counterattacked by pressing the tip of his tentacle against Max’s hole. If Max didn’t get his pants off, he would lose another pair. Rick’s enthusiasm was dangerous to fabric. Max popped his button and pushed his pants down. Rick slid back a few inches and slowly rotated so that Max felt trapped in his gaze.
“I’m not the annoying one in this marriage, so I approve of anything that reduces your annoyingness, and pulling tentacles with you is the opposite of annoying.” Max toed off his shoes and let his pants pool around his ankles.
“My annoyingness is not of concern.” Rick caught Max’s wrist and pulled him toward the round couch in the middle of the room. “Your annoyingness, while greater, is also not of concern. Pleasure is of concern. Great concern.”
Max couldn’t argue with that. Even when his husband was absolutely infuriating, Max couldn’t care when they had sex. “Don’t let me get in the way of pleasure.”
“You will not,” Rick said. His tentacles wrapped around Max’s upper thighs. Max pulled his shirt off and threw it in the general direction of his pants. He grabbed a red-tipped tentacle and tugged hard enough to tease, bracing one hand on Rick’s collar where his tentacles attached to his head to give him more leverage. Rick gave a happy shimmy.
Sex might not solve problems, but it sure put them on hold. Max ran his hands along the length of the tentacle he had captured, and the finger tentacles along the underside caught at him. Rick shivered and leaned closer, his hat-less head resting against Max’s cheek.
“Is your leg pullable?” Rick asked. It took Max a second to even remember that his leg had been broken this morning.
“Very pullable, although that’s not my most pullable tentacle,” Max said, his voice rough.
“Your most atypical tentacle of length is my favorite to pull,” Rick said. At least he wasn’t complimenting Max on the smallness of his penis. That was the sort of thing that made a man go to therapy.
“You’ll be too weak and worn to pull any tentacle by the time I’m done with you.” Max pulled on the tentacle he’d captured–hard then gentle then hard and hard and gentle and firm. Each time he changed the force he used, sliding from one motion to another to avoid the jerking action Rick found annoying. All Rick’s tentacles shivered. Max knew how to drive his husband wild.
Rick blew raspberries. “I will cause opening in reproductive tentacle before you can.” However, he couldn’t get control over his shivering. Max was feeling pretty good about his chances. He parked his ass on the couch and pulled Rick close. His skin waswarm and smooth, and tentacles slid all over him. A tentacle slid across his lips, the tiny fingers along the underside teasing the sensitive skin. A tentacle rubbed his neck. A tentacle caught his thigh in a firm grip. A tentacle wiggled against his perineum. How had Max ever survived before finding a husband with a dozen limbs?
“I believe I shall win,” Rick said with a rumble. He curled a small tentacle around Max’s cock and tightened his hold. Max groaned and arched his back, which opened enough space under him for a tentacle to slip in his ass.
Oh no. Max would not surrender that easily. Max sucked a tentacle tip into his mouth and worked it with more force than he would dare with another human. At the same time, he strained to pull a thick tentacle as hard as he could.
Rick’s tentacles tightened around Max’s thighs, forcing them apart. Max’s recently broken leg twinged, but before Max could say anything, Rick’s touch gentled, and tentacle fingers teased along his sides.
