Alien Freak - Calista Skye Page 0,36

time stroking and working their way down.

I take his head between my hands to get even closer to him. His hair is messy, but thick and silky between my fingers. The kiss goes on for a long time. Neither of us can get enough.

Finally Zaroc growls impatiently, lays me down on the floor, which goes soft wherever I touch it with bare skin. My new space-age jumpsuit comes apart along specific lines when I use the right moves, and Zaroc helps slide it down past my shoulders.

His split tongue shoots out again and strokes across my throat, warm and feathery light.

The danger of it adds to my arousal – he’s absolutely deadly, and when he fights he moves faster than the eye can follow. And still I know I’m safe.

Mostly safe, anyway.

“You smell sweet,” he growls into my ear, while his hands are busy unwrapping my body from the jumpsuit.

I can only moan in response, helping him by raising my shoulders off the floor so the garment can be rolled down to my hips. The air is cool and gives me goosebumps.

Or it could be him.

The soft, double-edged tongue slides down my front, making a loop at my abdomen and moving back up again in a complicated pattern. It’s still feathery, but just firm enough to tantalize and not tickle.

My body arches up, all by itself.

Yeah, it’s definitely him.

Strong, gentle hands lift the sports bra off from underneath, and my boobs spill out.

Zaroc growls again. “There was never a more perfect woman.”

He takes them in both hands, cupping and caressing, then squeezing them together. The Y shoots out again, the tips stroking against the sensitive sides of both breasts at the same time, then all around them, leaving a red-hot wake of delighted nerve endings.

He bends down and takes one nipple into his mouth, swirling around it and creating the tiniest little sucking sensation. He flashes me with blue, checking that I’m okay.

I moan in response, feeling the last piece fall into place to where I can relax and let him do his thing. He’s delighting in this, luxuriating in my body in a way I didn’t know was possible, but he’s not forgetting that I have a say, too.

“So goood,” I moan. “Go further down.”

“All in good time,” he rumbles under his breath, reminding me that I may have a say, but he’s in charge.

But he does move down, gradually, as if he’s worried he’ll miss a single square inch of me.

The jumpsuit helpfully splits further apart under his skilled touch, I lift my hips to help, and then I’m only wearing panties.

For one more second. Zaroc tugs at them, I lift my hips one more time and then I’m bare in front of him.

He hisses again. “Irresistible! Why did you come into my life? You make me weak!”

His soul-piercing attention is too intense to deal with. I close my eyes.

Warm hands push my knees apart, and I reflexively arch my back in anticipation as the cool air hits the most secret parts of me.

Feather strokes along the inside of my thighs, moving up, fading just before the center of my heat. Then from the sides, from all sides at the same time, forcing a needy groan from my throat. Spirals moving in, traces being drawn, heat surging hard.

A gentle pause.

Then a soft kiss right across the heat, soft and insistent pressure, warm swirls and wet noises. Every little part of my sex is being touched and stroked and caressed at the same time.

How is this possible?

I half open my eyes, but all I can see is his mass of silky, black hair down there. He’s enjoying this almost as much as I am.

The wet squelches are scandalous, but I don’t care at all. I deserve this. I deserve that tongue of his working at my sex, swirling and soothing and arousing and caressing.

He’s a total freak. In the best possible way, building my heat up so expertly that the climax is there before I even know it.

At the same moment, something penetrates me, softly and smoothly, then just stays inside me, pulsating fast. Or is it rotating?

I thrash and jerk and whimper, my legs trembling uncontrollably.

Zaroc gradually lessens the pressure, and whatever was inside me pulls slowly out.

“The alien female likes the tongue, I think,” he growls, positioning himself beside me with one leg across my bare midsection so that his knee can softly rock at my hips.

“You are a freak,” I pant, gradually coming back to my