Hannah's Hero - Ruby Dixon Page 0,77

him, and I press a light kiss to his shoulder. He eases onto his back, still reaching for me, but I push his hands down, a playful smile on my face. “But just because I need a break doesn’t mean we can’t have fun right now. It just all can’t be my fun at the moment.”

And I reach between his legs and cup the enormous bulge of him.

J’shel’s eyes close, strain on his face. His hands clench on me, tighter than before, and I can feel he’s far more tense than I thought. It’s as if it’s taking everything he’s got to hold onto his control.

Now it’s my turn to be in charge. While I love the thought of him being the one in control in bed—boy, do I ever—I want to please him. I want to make him groan with need. I want to make him come so hard that he sees stars…like he’s done for me. Twice.

“Can I see what you look like?” I ask delicately, rubbing his hard length through his poor beleaguered loincloth. “Or do you need a moment?”

His answer is to reach down and rip the leather off of his body, tossing it aside as if it offends him.

All right, then.

I look my fill at my beautiful, gorgeous man.

J’shel’s cock is enormous. That’s not surprising given the size of the bulge I’ve been rubbing, but seeing it unfurl—and I do mean unfurl—is another matter. It’s like the moment the loincloth is ripped away, he just unrolls down his thigh and shocks the heck out of me. He’s long, but more than that, he’s thicker than I imagined, and the same ridges that make his tongue so delicious are all up and down his cock, too.

“My goodness,” I murmur, reaching down and stroking him again. “This is impressive.” I trace a finger along one thick vein that dances between the ridges, from the base of his cock all the way up to the fat crown that’s glazed with pre-cum. He’s a darker shade of blue here, as if all his blood has rushed to his dick, and I can’t help but notice that his balls are the same—large, dark blue, and tight against his cock.

The spur is a little more than I expected.

I’d heard rumors around camp, of course. Women talk, and women especially talk about sex when the sex comes with some weird shit. Bridget’s not been shy about pointing out the spur that A’tam had, or the fact that he jabbed her in all the wrong places. Lauren, Liz and Harlow have all had zero complaints, though, and Brooke can’t get enough of Taushen, so I’m guessing it’s not as much of a problem as Bridget made it out to be.

I am completely unfamiliar how to handle it, though. Do I stroke it? Suck on it? Ignore it? No time like the present to ask. I study the extra appendage—it’s about the size of a thumb and right above his cock. It looks as if it’d get in the way while running, but I guess if J’shel can move around with his big dong dangling between his thighs, he’s got no problems with the much smaller spur.

“Human men don’t have a spur,” I say, even as I stroke him again. “How should I touch it? What would feel good?”

J’shel’s been utterly quiet as I examine him, and I worry I’ve missed some subtle cue—or worse, that he’s not enjoying my touch—but when I glance back up at him I see I’m worrying over nothing. His brow is covered in sweat, and he’s biting his lip so hard that it looks painful. His entire face is a rictus of agony, as if it’s taking every bit of conversation not to blow his load all over my hand.

My poor alien looks so damn uncomfortable.

I stroke him again, my fingers lightly moving up the underside of his cock, and I watch him as I do. I can see the little shudder of need that rolls over him that he’s fighting so hard. And my heart squeezes with sympathy because he’s clearly trying to last and it’s clearly so damn difficult he can’t enjoy himself…all because he’s enjoying himself too much already.

I rub a finger underneath the crown of his cock. “You can let go, J’shel,” I murmur, my words throaty and full of encouragement. I lean in and brush my lips over his, even as I tickle the underside once more. “You can come all over my