I guess I never said it. This is new. And maybe we both were acting a little weird that Saturday eveningbecauseit was new, and we didn’t know how else to act.
I laugh to myself at how ridiculous this entire thing was. All week I’ve been worried about him hating me and wanting to fire me, and it was just a misunderstanding.
But I also can’t stop thinking about how I’m going to show him how much I don’t hate his monster. In fact, I’m very curious and turned on by it—by him.
I keep myself busy helping the other guys while the band finishes up their meet and greets. Though I don’t make it obvious or linger for long, I keep checking to see how long the line is and guess how much it’ll be before I get Aliko all to myself.
After what feels like an entire year, the fans are gone, the guys are heading to their dressing rooms, and I’m feeling brave.
When the hallway is clear, I hurry over to Aliko’s door and knock quickly. He pulls the door open, looking confused, before I push inside and close the door behind me, pressing my back to it.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“I’m impatient,” I say, biting my bottom lip.
He smirks, but then his gaze goes downward. “There is no lock on this door.”
“Hmm,” I say, reaching for him. I hook my fingers into his waistband and pull him toward me, which I know I couldn’t do if he didn’t want me to. “How much do you weigh? And I don’t mean that offensively in any way.”
He just shrugs as he settles in front of me.
“Can I touch you everywhere?” I ask as I look up at him.
He nods, his jaw set.
“Nothing is off limits?” I ask with a raised brow. “Not even these?” I run the backs of my fingers down a tentacle, avoiding the suckers. He shivers and something close to a whimper leaves his lips. “Sensitive?”
“No, not even those, and yes. But I didn’t know that until just now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve heard stories of male tentacles and arms becoming sensitive when producing eggs b—”
“Eggs?” I interrupt. “What do you meaneggs?”
He nods. “Males produce eggs to implant into the females. That is how baby kraken are born.”
I look him up and down. “You canproduceeggs?”
All his arms lift an inch then drop down. “I do not know if I can do that inthisform, but in my true form, yes.”
Narrowing my eyes, I glance at his arms. “But if they’re sensitive, then it’s possible, right?”
“Yes.”
I hum a happy sound, then ask, “Tell me more about kraken mating.” I drag my fingers slowly back and forth across his skin. He’s cooler in this form, colder to the touch than a normal human, but not by much. Like someone who’s been standing in a chilly wind for a short time—or who has just come out of the ocean. He doesn’t feel scaly or slimy, or like anything resembling a fish. He’s as smooth as any other person’s skin that I’ve felt.
“When the females go into heat,” he begins, his voice calm and even. “The males can scent her. Those that are attracted to the scent will go to her.”
“So, there are many? Not just one?” I keep running my fingers along the skin of his lower belly, not too far from where his cock begins, if I had to guess. I know he has one in this form. I’ve seen the outline of it more than once.
“Many will try, but only the one who gives her the egg that is accepted is the mate who stays.”
“So, they just keep stuffing her with eggs?”
“They take turns inserting them. After a few hours or up to a day you will know if it will be rejected. They do this until one takes.”
“And where do these eggs come from? How big are they?”
