The Breeding Prize - Aya Morningstar Page 0,22
white skin. Blood rushes warm up to my ears, and my chest tightens. I don’t dare breathe.
“Is this abrasive?” he asks, meeting my eyes. His fingers run along my inner thigh, and he squeezes. “Obnoxious?”
I shake my head and whisper a hoarse “no.”
“You’re just trying to get back at me for calling you ‘moody’ and ‘illogical’ are you not?”
I nod. “Yes, but you are abrasive, Raiska.”
“In a good way,” he says. “Men on Earth are inept and unable to please you, as you said yourself. They lack confidence. They spend their days sitting in little chairs and pressing buttons on primitive machines. They lift heavy weights to give the illusion of strength, but most have never fought a real battle in their lives.”
I put my hand on his and squeeze. I’m not sure if I’m trying to stop him from reaching further up my skirt, or if I’m going to urge him on.
“You really have made me feel safe,” I whisper. “Even if you are obnoxious about it.”
“Yes,” he says. “I’ve read your body language, human, you like it.”
He moves his hand up further. I feel his veins bulge as his hand moves possessively up my leg, and I tighten my grip, bracing for him touching the more sensitive skin of my upper thigh.
I close my eyes and just let myself feel him touch me.
“Your heart rate is elevated,” he says. “Your lips are parted, and your eyes are closed, but your eyelids are fluttering. Your body is tense and nervous, because you are unsure what I will do next.”
Is he really reading my body, and not just my mind?
“I may be abrasive and unaware of your customs,” he says. “I am not smooth at talking or verbal seduction, but I can read your body perfectly, little human, and I know what it craves.”
I pull his hand away, unable to bear him touching me any closer to my center, and I turn to face him. I lean forward with my lips parted. It’s not a subtle move or signal, and if he’s even half as good as he says at reading me, he’ll know exactly what to do next.
He takes charge and grabs hold of me. His fingers grip behind my neck, and he pulls me into him. Our lips press together. His lips are so much warmer than a human’s—he must run hot to be so strong—and his tongue slides between my eager and willing lips.
He kisses me with a fierce and hungry passion. I didn’t think I needed or craved him. I thought it was just my body giving me weird and baffling signals, but now that he’s kissing me like this, I realize that those signals were a lot more clear-cut than they had initially seemed.
He pins me onto the grass and kisses me while I lie on my back. My skirt is still hiked up, but when I try to pull it back down, he grabs me by the wrist. He growls as he kisses me, and I bring my knee up and press my bared inner-thigh against his torso. I can feel the hard and solid curves of his obliques warm against my soft flesh.
Raiska rolls onto his back and pulls me on top of him. Suddenly I’m straddling his abs as we kiss. His hands grab hold of my waist, and then they go down until they are on my ass. He squeezes me there, and I moan into him as his tongue massages mine.
He smells good too. Fresh and masculine, but with a certain extra dimension to his scent that is something truly alien. It’s a good smell though, one that I’m going to forever associate with this first kiss.
We kiss for a very long time, like two middle schoolers who just found out how good it can feel. He tries a few times to steal a few bases, but I stop him. We’re still in public, and even though Lakria feels like a more sexually liberated society than the United States, I’m not ready to fuck an alien in the middle of a park.
When we finally come up for air, he grins at me and strokes my hair. “You like it when I call you ‘little human,’ even though you pretend not to.”
I try to look annoyed, but I’m smiling too wide to be annoyed.
“You think I don’t understand things,” he says, “but I do. I am trained to be perceptive. With time, I will understand your culture and the things that