gasping for air as I pound into you. But I don’t want to hurt you, Nadia. I want you to enjoy it all as much as I would.”
The warmth of the water seeped through my skin into my muscles. The heat in his gaze reached all the way through to my core.
Wyck towered over me. He was so much bigger and stronger than me. Yet I felt I had the power over what would happen here, now. He’d given it to me freely.
An overwhelming sense of gratitude for this man flooded me. He had been my one and only ray of sunshine for so long. No one and nothing could spoil this for us.
“We will make it right,” I whispered as a mantra, closing the distance between us.
Everything about him felt right, even his wrongs.
I slid my hand around his back, unbuckling the gun holster from around his chest.
Sinking his fingers into the wet hair on the back of my head, he kissed me, deep and hard. The familiar taste of his kiss thrilled and relaxed me at the same time.
“Does it hurt?” I asked when he let me come up for air. I hovered the tip of my finger over the cut on his lip.
“The pain is worth the pleasure I always feel when I kiss you.” He gave me a happy smile. “Do you like kissing me, Nadia?”
His kisses had been like shots of medicine against the festering sickness of my mind during the darkest time of my life. I’d been using Wyck to help me cope and now, he had become the addiction I could no longer quit. I didn’t want to quit. But I wished to try giving something back to him.
If he felt pleasure from kissing me, I wanted to make him feel more.
“Let’s get you out of these wet pants,” I murmured, clicking the front closures of his waistband open.
The smile slipped off his face when I reached inside, my fingers sliding along his hard-as-rock erection—one of them.
“Do you really want this, Nadia?” His tone sounded almost like a threat, a warning. “Because once I start, I won’t be able to stop.”
The sound of his deep, low voice made my skin tingle with anticipation. I wished to give him pleasure, but I sensed I’d enjoy doing it. Wyck deserved it all. We both had earned this moment of time together, away from everyone else.
Instead of an answer, I resolutely shoved his pants down his legs. I sank to my knees in front of him. Opening the heavy buckles on his boots, I made him kick them off.
“You’re all mine now,” I whispered, sliding my hands up his long, muscular legs.
His two enormous dicks were positioned about an inch or two apart, one over the other. Both were so hard, the higher one pointed straight up, nearly touching his stomach.
I’d never seen a naked errock before, not even in a picture. I knew of the scientific and cultural exchange between our species. To my knowledge, however, there’d been no collaborations in terms of reproduction yet.
There was no point in asking Wyck about the errocks’ cultural norms in terms of sex. All he knew would be mostly the customs of the group of errocks on the Dark Anomaly. Whatever little information he got had been filtered for him by those who had raised him.
He and I would have to discover our own ways.
“Tell me if you don’t like something I’m doing,” I told him, gliding my hands up the insides of his bulging thighs, thick with ropes of muscles.
His hard abs rippled when I took both of his massive dicks in my hands. He hissed, spreading his arms to grab onto the walls.
“Are you okay?” I asked, trailing my fingers along both his lengths.
He nodded quickly, sucking in another breath.
His girth—either of the two—was too thick for one hand. I let go of the top one and focused my attention on the lower one for now. Wrapping the fingers of both hands around it, I slid my hands up and down. When I squeezed my hands tighter, it got thinner, the clear, shimmering moisture beading along the entire surface. The moment I loosened my grip, he slowly grew bigger again.
It felt like having a thick roll of dense clay in my hands, and I couldn’t resist playing with it. I squeezed, patted, and rolled.
“Do you like this?” I slid my hands up and down once more, then leaned in and flicked my tongue over the tip.