Taken by the Alien Next Door (Aliens Among Us #1) - Tiffany Roberts Page 0,23

that vibrant green; her lips, so soft and full and pink; her lush breasts and flaring hips; her tantalizing thighs and backside.

Within moments, his ragged breaths were coming out in snarls. He offered himself no mercy, moving his hand up and down his shaft at a relentless pace, imagining it was her hand there instead—or her plump lips wrapped around him as she sucked him deep.

He tightened his grip with another snarl. The pressure in him built rapidly until his hips were bucking and he couldn’t think, couldn’t separate himself from the sensations, from his desire.

His muscles seized, and his balls tightened impossibly further.

“Tabitha,” he growled as that pressure finally burst. Seed erupted from his cock in a powerful jet, running hot over his fist and easing the slide of his hand.

Shuddering, he milked himself for whatever was left, spilling more and more seed onto the floor. When he finally stopped and opened his hand, his fingers were stiff and sticky. He forced his eyes open and glanced down at the mess he’d made.

It looked like a gallon of his seed had splattered across the laminate flooring, its pale color in stark contrast to the carbon gray planks beneath. For as much as he’d spilled, for as much pleasure as he’d felt, he remained…unfulfilled.

Release was not what he craved…Tabitha was.

“Svesh,” he rasped between labored breaths. His skin was still taut, his blood still aflame, his mind still hazed with insatiable lust.

Zevris had taken himself in hand many times over the course of his life. For most male falorans, it was the only means available to relieve any sort of sexual tension without taking another male as a lover, the only way to ease the instinctual cravings. Orgasms did not necessarily involve ejaculation—because ejaculation was the means of forming a mating bond with a female. He’d spilled a little from time to time, as was only natural, but never like this.

“Tabitha,” he repeated, letting his head fall back against the door again.

Some foggy part of his mind suggested that the mystery scent she’d spilled on herself was responsible for this, but he ignored it. Now was not the time to speculate. Just the sound of her name on his lips—just the thought of her—had his hand moving back to his still-hard shaft.

He wrapped his fingers around his cock and squeezed, growling again.

This was going to be a long night.

Six

Zevris lowered himself slowly, bending his arms and refusing to let his elbows buckle against the immense force of the grav generator he’d placed on his back. He halted when his chest was within an inch of the concrete floor.

Though his muscles burned and teetered on the verge of being overcome by tremors, he held the position, staring down at the smooth but imperfect concrete and the wet spots upon it that had been left by his sweat. As though in mockery of the burden placed upon the rest of his body by the grav generator, his tail swished from side to side freely, its tufted tip occasionally brushing over his calves.

Usually, exercise offered a brief respite from the stresses of Zevris’s everyday life—which had, for many years, involved the very real chance of death at the hands of enemies who were actively hunting him. The physical exertion required a significant portion of his willpower to overcome, required him to focus on every fiber of his body to keep them working in unison, to push past whatever limits by which he’d thought himself restrained.

But his mind kept twisting back to Tabitha.

With a heavy exhalation, he pushed himself up, straightening his arms and locking his elbows. A bead of sweat ran down his face, slowing as it reached the tip of his nose. It dangled there, creating a faint tickling sensation that should’ve been unnoticeable given the almost unbearable artificially generated weight pressing down on his back. His arms trembled slightly, and his toes, bent harshly against the hard floor, seemed ready to snap off entirely.

He closed his eyes and focused on taking slow, measured breaths, focused on the agony pulsing through his arms, thighs, and abdominal muscles, focused on the phantom ache in his groin.

Tabitha emerged in his imagination, looking up at him with her big emerald eyes gleaming lustfully.

Zevris’s shaft twitched. He bared his fangs and growled, willing the mental image away. The last thing he needed while the grav generator was active was to lower his body and have his throbbing cock suddenly take the fullness of his amplified weight on